Group Info Group Founded 14 Years ago 1,021 Members
35,531 Pageviews738 Watchers

Announcement

This group will be migrated to the new design soon. Please contact the group admins to start the migration and save content the group may lose access to.

Gallery Folders

Featured
TG TF: Jumba and Morpholomew's Lilo experiment,It was hard for me to think about where to go next for a long time. So I let Ryan keep my device that could take anyone almost anywhere, anytime, in any world they wanted and they could always come back to reality making it seem as if they never left. It was especially hard to think as there were still episodes of Heathcliff and The Catillac Cats that hadn't been copied to the right sites yet. Episodes 2-26 of Fix and Foxi and friends had been copied to a certain site. Ryan had managed to get all the Despicable Me movies onto the right sites. All that was left of the Incredibles franchise to be copied to a certain site was Mr. Incredible and Pals. In the meantime Ryan had uploaded all of Lilo and Stitch to his youtube channel. He found out that Experiment 316 had the power to shapeshift himself and anyone else into anyone else as long as he knew what whoever he was doing the changing into looked like. That experiment was named Morpholomew. Lilo used Morpholomew to change into Keoni to replace him while he was away. Just like I turned into Cleo in the world of the Catillac Cats and replaced her while she was on vacation. But all the cats knew about me and no-one in Lilo's world knew about her. Lilo even turned into Jake Long to replace him while Captain Gantu kidnapped the real Jake thinking he was the experiment. Spud had changed into Morpholomew to trick Captain-Gantu into taking the wrong creature. Like Ryan had been turned into Margo to create a diversion when he was in the world of Despicable Me. But Ryan escaped by himself on using the device to come back to reality and Spud needed his friends to escape. A funny thing there was that Margo Gru had been voiced by Miranda Taylor Cosgrove and she was Sarah in that Lilo and Stitch episode. Ryan thought about using the device to go to the world of Lilo and Stitch. He wondered if there was any good reason for Morpholomew to change him into anyone. Lilo was his first choice. He remembered that with Despicable Me I said to go to some time after the end of the last movie. I didn't know if going to before the first movie, during a movie, or between the movies would disrupt the space time continuum of that world or just create a parallel universe that couldn’t be seen through tv. I didn't want to take any risks though. I asked him to see if he knew that with the Incredibles and he remembered. I wasn't there to make sure he remembered. But I shouldn't worry because he had.So Ryan went to the world of Lilo and Stitch near Lilo's home. He noticed Jumba was scratching his head. "Hello Jumba" said Ryan. "I'm Ryan. What are you thinking about?" Jumba looked at Ryan. "How do you know my name?" he asked. "I've seen your past as movies and tv episodes" said Ryan. Then he explained about the device that brought him to that world and things he wanted. "Wow!" said Jumba. "I wonder if I can make something like that device you used to get here?" Ryan thought for a moment. "Maybe you can" he said. "It would be great if someone in my world could duplicate the device. Then I wouldn't have to go to Sam's house and he wouldn't have to come to mine. Maybe more people in my world could travel to other worlds." Jumba started to look puzzled. "I guess that would be good, but who's Sam?" he asked. "Sam was the first to find the device since it ended up in a dump" said Ryan. He said what my full name was and what his full name was. He even said about where he and I had been before using that device and what we did there. He said that he knew about Morpholomew. "I wonder if Morpholomew could do some transformation for anyone to pose as a twin?" asked Ryan. "And dose your alter ego have a name? Or does Agent Pleakley's alter ego have a name?" Jumba was confused. "You and Pleakley had disguised yourselves as Earth humans at times" said Ryan. "Oh we hadn't thought about names" said Jumba. "Well if there's any point in making anyone think you, Pleakley, and your alter egos are different people then you know what to do" said Ryan. "I see that a problem is that Morpholomew can't change vocal cords. Maybe if he could get deep inside to know what the vocal cords of the one that someone else is to change into is like then maybe he could change vocal cords." Jumba thought for a moment. "It seems like a good idea but we may need to do some tests first" He said. "How about doing some testing by turning me into Lilo" suggested Ryan. "That sounds like a plan to me" said Jumba. "But we'll have to get everyone we need together."So Jumba took Ryan up to Lilo's house. Ryan saw Nani, Lilo, and Stitch. In the mean time Jumba went to get Morpholomew. "Hello Nani, Lilo, and Stitch, I'm Ryan" said Ryan. "How do you know our names?" asked Nani. Then Ryan told her what he told Jumba. "How sweet of you!" said Nani. "Making sure things that show our past will last! If you spend time here you may know just what others may try searching up and use that to your advantage." She reminded him of Helen Parr from when he was in the world of the Incredibles. It's a good thing I wasn't there. It's what Olma Eusebia had said when I was in the world of Fix and Foxi. That would be boring. Olma had reminded me of Cleo and Wordsworth from when I was in the world of the Catillac Cats. Anyway Ryan told them as much as he could about me and him using the device to go to worlds we'd been to before and what we did there. Soon Jumba and Morpholomew came. "Ok now to see if we can get changing forms to also change voices" said Jumba. "Do you think you should take the device I need to get home so that you are ready to make a duplicate of it?" asked Ryan. "I'll take it now" said Jumba. So Ryan gave Jumba the device. Then Morpholomew had a good look over Lilo and even checker her throat for vocal cords. Then he moved to Ryan and like a pink star was shining near Morpholomew's hand and his head morphed into Lilo's and he started to change Ryan.As Morpholomew's head turned back to normal Ryan's feet started to shrink then his shoes and socks turned into black sandals that had the straps round above the balls of his feet. The skin on his feet darkened. As his legs shortened and turned brown his trousers disappeared. His penis and testes shrank inside of him and a tight vagina replaced them and his pants changed to fit and turned lacy. His belly lost hair as he shortened and his shoulders cracked inwards and his arms shortened and turned brown and his hands became dainty. His upper clothes turned into a red dress with short sleeves and white leaves for the pattern and the skirt went down to the tops of his feet. As his neck turned brown his Adam's Apple disappeared. His lips became more feminine. His nose grew and became rounder. His eye brows went from brown to black. When all of his skin was brown the hair on his head changed colour same as his eyebrows and grew down to his belly.Then the star disappeared. "You look like Lilo, but do you sound like her?" asked Jumba. "We can find out straight away" said Ryan. "Ah! It worked!" said Jumba. "Ryan you're a genius!" Ryan wanted to look at himself in a mirror and he asked. "Yes you may" said the real Lilo. So Ryan went to look for a mirror and he saw his new reflection. "Awww I do look and sound just like her! I'm so cute!" he said. Then he went back to the others. "So now we change you back to normal" said Jumba. "Not yet" said Ryan. "I'd like to spend some time like this while you're working on making your own device that can take anyone almost anywhere, anytime, in any world they wanted and they always come back to their own reality making it seem as if they never left. Jumba work on making your own device while I talk with the rest of you so we can understand each other more." So off Jumba went with the device Ryan needed to get home and Ryan talked with Nani, Lilo, Stitch, and Morpholomew.Ryan said what he could about his world and what he liked to do there. Stitch said what he could about before he came to Earth and what he did on Earth. Lilo and Nani said what they could about their lives. They even pointed out where their stories met.Soon Jumba came back. "I've done it" he said. "I've made my own device." Then Ryan explained what I had told him to be sure that anyone that used Jumba's duplicate of the device would use it safely. "Messing around in the past could have a major impact on your present reality" said Ryan. "Even messing around in worlds where your reality could see you effect them could have effects on your reality. So be careful." Jumba thought and understood. "Ok we'll be careful" he said. "You do understand why I came to what all that my world saw of yours saw as the future" said Ryan. "Yes" said Jumba. "So that all of what your world saw already happened and you couldn't change it. Ok then lets change you back." So Morpholomew went up to Ryan and like a pink star was again shining near Morpholomew's hand and his head morphed into Ryan's old, then back to normal and he changed Ryan back to normal. Then Jumba gave Ryan back the device he needed to get home. "Does Ryan have to leave?" asked Stitch. "Yes" said Ryan. "This isn't my reality. And I have to sort out my youtube channel if things in my world that show your past will last. I've had a great time here and I hope you lot have to. Well goodbye Jumba, goodbye Nani, goodbye Lilo, goodbye Stitch, and goodbye Morpholomew." and together the others said "Goodbye Ryan."Then Ryan used the device to go home. Then he went to his computer and went to his youtube channel and put of much of his experience as he could into the descriptions of his videos that were about Lilo and Stitch. He decided to rest then and when he was ready he'd see if anyone in reality could duplicate the device that could take anyone almost anywhere, anytime, in any world they wanted and they could always come back to reality making it seem as if they never left. Then he and I wouldn't have to go back and fourth to each others houses to take it in turns to use the one device. Things would be much easier for us then.
Dead By Daylight TrapperXKiller Reader:Dying Light, “You’re trembling.”He stated dryly. His arms crossed in a disappointed impatient manor as a huff of exasperation left his lips. That breath dissipating into the frosted air of Ormond. It wasn’t the cold that caused you to shake; it was you as you were. A frightened, anxious mess. “I-I’m sorry.”A grunt escaped from his throat, a low irritated growl. You apologized again; he hated when you apologized. He had nothing left to say; hours upon hours of training and you still had yet to make progress. Evan didn’t have time for this; he was a busy man and you were burning up what little free time he had. He had traps to fix, other killers to meet with, a workshop to upkeep. “You’re holding your weapon too close to your body, your grip is too tight, your posture is too rigid, you’re-”You opened your mouth again, cutting off his list of actions you were performing incorrectly, and sputtering apologizes over and over like a broken record. Damn it! Again, with the apologizing. Evan clenched his fist in irritation, knowing that it was the only thing he could do to suppress his frustration. He needed a drink, or a smoke, or even a trial would be better. You were hopeless, practically begging for the Entity to remove you and send you into the inky void. He halted your chain of apologies. “Let’s… Let’s just take a break.”He slid his hand down his mask, massaging his temples with his pointer fingers’ in an attempt to keep his composure. Retreating into the lodge, leaving you out in the snow to contemplate your failure, Evan sat by the dwindling fire to warm his hands. This place must’ve been really nice before the Entity distorted it. For a moment, he removed his mask to reveal his war-torn face. He had adapted to life in the realm. Sure, he didn’t kill for the thrill of it like some of the others, but he could get the job done without feeling remorse.As annoyed as he was. As vain as his attempts were. As exhausted as he was. He couldn’t bring himself to hate you. It wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have been a killer in the first place. If it wasn’t for the horrid way you died and the rage in your heart, you would’ve more than likely ended up a survivor. But you weren’t a survivor, you were a killer. It was a fact that you’d have to accept sooner or later; hopefully sooner, because the Entity was growing restless with your poor performance.That last trial, watching survivors hurl objects at you: used medkits, toolboxes, flashlights, rocks, broken pieces of pallet. All whilst they laughed and taunted; it was a sickening sight. It was then Evan realized that he had to do something, anything, to prevent that utter display of pathetic defeat from happening again. But why? Why was he so fixated on helping you? Of all the activities he could be spending his free time on, why you? It was for a multitude of reasons. One: that damned Ghostface brat bet that Evan couldn’t turn you into a real killer, and he hated that little shit. His reputation as one of strongest in the realm was on the line and he wasn’t about to let that be tarnished because Danny couldn’t stop being a prick. Two: he didn’t enjoy seeing killers taken into the void. It was a disturbing sight; listening to the screams of agony of all those who were forced to wander the darkness forever, only getting a glimpse of light when another hapless victim was thrown in. The sight of their bodies, slowly distorting and melting away. The hands of those long-departed clawing at the entrance, only to be swatted away like flies by the Entity's tendrils. The smell of rotting flesh. If he could prevent it from happening to others, he would. If not for others sake, for his own selfish desire to avoid the dreaded sight. Three: he saw something in you. A naive innocence that would always melt away from other killers upon their first trial. You, however, retained that child-like purity, even among your first kill. This place squashed all hope and joy from all those who entered, but if he could save that little light still burning in you, then by God he would. To find a small hint of happiness in this Hell is what he desired more than anything, though admitting that would be another matter. Seeing your smile, hearing you laugh, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity he felt something positive, something he was missing. He wasn’t particularly enjoying his time in the realm; he was miserable. Every time he took a life, every time the Entity praised him for his excellent work, he felt nothing but agitation and hollowness.But that little spark of yours was burning out. He could see it every time you returned from a trial; broken, defeated, losing your will to fight. The flame dimming along with your smile and laughter. Your eyes sinking from a bright glow to a dull apathy. Despite the morbid situation you came from, you still tried to find the bright side of situations. A hope that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, you found a train. You had a warm welcoming demeanor, now all that was left was a skittish deer in the headlights.Evan sighed once more; was he really doing the right thing by pushing you to be what you weren’t? As much as he hated to even imagine the idea; maybe the void would be safer for you. At least there you could find other like-minded individuals; you’d be able to inspire those lost to find the light within themselves. Maybe even escape this shit-hole. He snickered at his own naive stupidity; happy endings didn’t exist here. Maybe if he wasn’t so harsh and demanding about the training, you’d be able to accomplish something, anything. Perhaps his teaching methods weren’t suited for you.A sudden wretched scream pierced the eerie silence and his thoughts. This wasn’t a cry of fear or surprise, this was the sound of someone reaching their breaking point. It didn’t take a genius to realize it was you. He had heard it before; he, himself, had let out a screech similar to the one he was now hearing. If only someone had been there to reassure him; someone to tell him that it was going to be alright in the end, that he’d make it through it. Maybe he wouldn’t be as cold as he was now. No one was there for him, but he could be there for you.Despite every cell in his brain telling him to let you have your moment, his body didn’t obey. Rushing to his feet, he sprinted out, his mask sliding back down onto his face. Still in the same spot he left you in, now on your hands and knees. As tears of grief poured off your cheeks, you grabbed fistfuls of your own hair, pulling at it in an attempt to distract yourself from the overwhelming devastation you felt. Scratching at the snow beneath you till you hit solid rock, your fingernails chipped and bleeding. The screams continued, your voice growing hoarse as time went on. Your light was nearly gone. No! No, he wouldn't allow that to happen.The ungodly sight sprung Evan into action. His first priority was to stop you from causing any more harm to yourself. To do so, he wrapped his hulking frame around you, his hands grasping at yours, restraining your body till you could calm yourself; that proved much more difficult than he imagined. Perhaps all the training was paying off, he could feel you struggle against him. You had become stronger.After a few minutes of wrestling you into a relaxed state, Evan moved his arms around you once more, this time cradling you, his head burrowed in the crook of your neck, waiting for your tears and screams to die down before speaking. “You’re afraid.”He tried to soften his voice to the best of his ability. His usual gruff emotionless tone wasn’t suited for the current conversation. “But I won’t let you be afraid alone; not like I was. It won’t be easy, but it won’t break you. I won’t allow it to.”Exhausted from the hours of training and the mental breakdown, you were now slumped against his chest, sleep threatening to overtake you at any time. Behind your tear-stained sleepy flickering eyes he could sense a newfound determination. In that moment, he saw a tiny flicker, your light. Small, quivering, and cold, but the flame was there. With time, he’d reignite it, rebuilding you back to what you were when you first entered the realm. You were that bright light he needed, and he would never allow it to go out....
Magus 2 Chapter 3: Contractually Obligated“Are we going to bring anything from your house? Like maybe a few snaaacks?” Magus asked.“No, but I do have my wallet on me so we can just buy whatever food we want when venturing the streets.” After Milo responded to Magus, he just realized something Magus said. “Wait, why do you want to bring snacks? I would understand normal food to keep you staying somewhat alive but…snacks? Your tongue and everything is completely gone so why would you want to bring tasty snacks?”“Well I just wanted you to not be starving or anything during the time we’ll be in the main city area, you know? I didn’t care for the snacks myself anyway. Oh yeah by the way I don’t actually need to ingest food, I just do so to feel somewhat human.”“That’s very thoughtful of you man, thanks! We should get going though, shall we?” Milo said, looking over to the road ahead of them, leading to the big city.“Yeah, you’re right. Let us embark on this great quest! This great quest of…hell. Chicago is hell.”“Heh, you’re damn right Magus.”Milo and Magus stood up finally after leaning on that tree for such a long time and began to walk down the road.“Maybe we should get a cab..?” Milo said, after they’ve already walked a couple of blocks.“How about this instead?” Magus said, as he snapped his fingers and they both suddenly get teleported to the middle of the street in downtown Chicago.“WOAH WOAH!” Milo freaks out, as he’s swerving left and right trying his best to avoid getting struck by cars, as they mercilessly go even FASTER. “I’M DRIVING HERE YOU BUM!” Says a man right as his car passes by Milo. The absolute second Magus heard this he teleports in the passenger seat next to the man. “Hey there!” “Wha-” Magus pushes the man out of the car, causing the man to roll on the road, almost killing the poor man. Magus teleported him and Milo off of the busy road onto the sidewalk pretty far away from where they caused a damn traffic jam.“MAGUS WHAT THE HELL?!” Milo shouted, as he almost got killed multiple times in a short time period.“Heh, sorry about that Milo, I’m just a little rusty is all.” “A LITTLE?! YOU ALMOST KILLED ME DUDE WHA- ah whatever it’s fine! At least we didn’t have to walk all that way! Your teleport ability is very nice, just please don’t mess it up next time, alright?”“Yeah yeah, I got it Milo! Now…where should we go first?”“How about we go get some food? Like possibly this hotdog truck literally right in front of us?” Milo said as he pointed to the hot dog truck parked right in front of them.“Good idea.” Magus said. He knocks on the closed metal shutter of the truck and says “Hello? Can we get some hot dogs?” No response. “HELLO? WE WANT SOME FOOD.” He knocks harder and harder, but yet no response. “HELLO?!? I WANT SOME FUCKING FOOD!” Magus bangs so hard that he accidentally creates a hole in the metal shutter, where he saw a man sitting down looking down at his tablet with his hands in his pants…oh god. “Are you…ah whatever that’s besides the point CAN WE GET SOME FOOD?!” Magus yelled at the man. “Huh- WHAAAAT?! D-DON’T LOOK!” That startled him so badly he dropped his tablet on the floor and quickly rushed up to them, opening the shutter. “What do you GENTLEMEN want?!” The man said in an extremely aggravated tone. “I was just doing some things, you know! At least give me some time, jeez…”“Are you not going to question how I look?” Magus said, while looking into the man’s eyes and seeing nothing but anger from interrupting his…session. “Kid, I’ve seen MUCH weirder things on the internet, alright? You may be a freak, but I’ve seen things far worse than you. Now, what would you like to order? A hot dog drizzled in water sauce with extra LSD?”“What now?” Said Milo, since he was genuinely confused at what just came into his ear.“You heard me. You fellas do know this is Chicago, right? And the fact the year is 2062. Water sauce is just the start of the madness. So do you fellas want it or not?”“I guess so.” Milo said, while sliding 20 bucks to the hotdog man.“A 15 dollar tip? Thank you!” He said, as he closed the metal shutter again and started cooking.“15 DOLLAR TIP?! HEY DUDE, WE THOUGHT IT WAS MUCH MORE EXPENSIVE!” Magus yelled through the hole in the shutter. Yet the man did not respond at all. “Great, he’s ignoring me…”“It’s fine, Magus. He can keep the money, I have much more anyway, so we’re all good!” Milo said, while clearly not fully meaning the things he said…although he was truthful about the part of him having much more money. Much, much more money.“If you say so.”After around 10 minutes of waiting, the hotdog man finally rolled up the metal shutters and placed down the hotdogs drizzled in water and LSD. “Here you fellas go! Have a good day now, both of you! Make sure to come back to my amazing hotdog truck and tip much, much more!”“...I am not eating this.” Said Milo.“I am kind of tempted…but no.” Said Magus, as he threw the thing into a nearby trash can, in which then Milo proceeded to do the same.“So…now what?” Said Milo, as he looked around trying to see if there was any actual good place to eat at.“Man I don’t even know anymo-” As Magus was talking, they both heard a weird noise…almost like the sound of angels singing in a choir.“Let’s totally go in the direction of that angel singing choir that is not at all creepy and makes me want to leave this cursed city! Yeah…” Milo said, in an obvious sarcastic tone while visibly shaking.“Alright, then let’s go!” Said Magus, as he quickly floated over to the direction of the noise.“Wait Magus, I was joking! I WAS JOKING! I WAS JO- ah whatever it’s fine! I hope…”Milo would catch up to magus and they would both continue going over to the beautiful singing. After a couple of minutes they would finally make it to where the noise was loudest…in front of an amc theater.“Is this some sort of joke?” Said Magus. “An AMC? Beautiful angel-like choir came from an AMC THEATER?! HOW?!?!?” Magus was absolutely befuddled and wanted no part to do with this at all, even though if there’s anything strange in Chicago it’s definitely him. He proceeded to not float, but walk away because he was somehow so confused he forgot how to float for a second.“Why don’t we go in Magus? It seems like the only thing we’ll be getting there is rewards! Wait…wait a minute…there’s never any AMC’S in Chicago! This MUST mean something good, I mean, the place looks like it’s in tippity top shape!” Milo said, as he walked into the building going right by the empty ticket area outside the building. “Milo! MILO! MILO!! God dammit I have to go in now, he’s just a normal human! I don’t want to get locked up inside of a building…not again…but I must protect him.” And so Magus teleported next to Milo, and saw the interior to the beautiful AMC!“Wow, I can’t believe how UGLY AND OUT OF SHAPE THIS PLACE IS! IT LOOKED AMAZING ON THE OUTSIDE BUT IT’S DISGUSTING ON THE INSIDE! Is that- IS THAT A BEEHIVE?!” Magus was completely outraged, and knew that this would be some sort of trap. Although, nothing yet had happened to either of them.“This doesn’t seem like much of a trap! Maybe someone just wanted to…wanted to…preserve the beautiful AMC logo outside! R-Right?” Said Milo, as he was shaking in fear from the many thoughts that rushed to his head about what could go wrong, even though he was all confident beforehand. “You were so confident before Milo! I hate to say this but I think I told ya so Milo, hah! This WAS a trap! Which is probably not a good thing…wait…”“CRAP WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE MAGUS!” Milo booked it to the exit and tried to pry open the doors, but to no avail. They were stuck.“Don’t worry Milo, I got this.” Milo concentrated all his magic into a ball of it, and launched it right at the door. Or, at least tried. The second he threw it, it turned into dark red smoke.“What the-” “Hello Magus.” A dark figure had risen up from the ground behind Magus. It was speaking in a deep tone, sounding like it was right in Magus’ ear.“MAGUS RUN! THAT MAN IS UP TO SOMETHI-” The dark figure used telekinesis to grab Milo’s neck, choking him in the process, in which he then threw Milo against the wall.Magus turned around and to his horror he saw Milo bleeding out on the floor. “YOU BASTARD!” Magus ran up to the man, but the man suddenly made a wall appear in front of Magus, knocking him unconscious as well.Hours later, Magus finally awoke from his slumber to the noise of a nail getting hammered in…hammered into his hand and his exposed arm bone.When Magus looked to his left, he saw what seemed to be..an angel? It was a damn angel doing all of this! “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Magus tried using his magic again, but once again to no avail.“Nothing personal.” One of them said, as they floated back down to the ground. Magus was getting crucified.“Why? WHY THIS?!”“Not like we got to choose. We were just contractually obligated, is all.”“...What?”“Just a hit that dark figure from earlier had sent out for you. He’s paying the big bucks you know!” One said, angering Magus.“SO WHY- Ahem…so why did you feel the need to kill me by crucifixion?” He asked.“Just the preference of the man who sent it out for ya. Since you’re already gonna die, may as well tell you that the man’s a demon.” The other man said, intriguing and startling Magus.“WHAT?! Who was it? WHO?!”“Just some guy named Typhon, I think he’s the brother of Tenebri! I wonder if the ranger ever got that guy…”“No no no…this can’t be happening…NO!” Magus swung his body left and right, but it only made the pain worse, and did absolutely nothing. Those nails were not normal by any means.“Sorry, but not sorry. I- no, WE don’t really care how much you suffer, you know. All we care about is the amount of money we make, really. Heaven isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Cya!”“DON’T LEAVE GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Right as he said that, they both disappeared.“GOD DAMN IT! YOU HEAR ME GOD? WAS THIS YOUR DOING?! I’M SORRY FOR KILLING YOUR BEST MAN BUT IT SEEMS LIKE YOU DIDN’T CARE MUCH ABOUT HIM ANYWAY! DAMN IT ALL!” Magus was unbelievably angry, but he eventually calmed down, knowing that all the yelling was for nothing anyway.“Damn it all…I wish Milo was here.”“Maybe I am.”Magus looked down, and saw Milo standing underneath him, climbing up the cross to pull off all the nails.“MILO! Thank you dude, thank you! I really don’t know what I’d do without you, man.”“Anytime dude, anytime.” Milo managed to get all of the nails off, making Magus fall down to the ground, landing on his two feet. “You alright Magus?” Asked Milo. “I don’t wanna sound like I’m boasting or anything, but I am quite good at healing others, helping them recover.” “I’m good, thanks.” Magus said as he walked to the exit again, trying to open the doors, yet they still wouldn’t open.“Ah shit, here we go again.”“Well Magus, I bet they didn’t expect me to live, huh?”“Yeah. Honestly, I was surprised too. I mean, I saw you bleeding out on the floor and everything! I’m just glad you’re alive.” “Alright alright enough with being nice to me Magus, how about we go down to the theaters and see who’s patrolling? I bet that dark figure dude is hiding somewhere, yeah? Let’s find that man and show him what you can really do!” “Yeah…but I have a feeling that man, Typhon, is stronger than Tenebri…eh, why the hell not.”CHAPTER 3 END
Magus 2 Chapter 2: A Trip Down Memory LaneMagus sat down on the floor, thinking to himself about many, many, things. One of those being his living situation with Milo at the moment. He felt as if he had been taking advantage of Milo simply by being there. He broke the man’s TV, and felt like he wasn’t grateful enough. Because of this, he decided that the best course of action was to leave and never return. He scurried around Milo’s house, opening and closing drawers until he eventually found a pile of sticky notes and a pen. He took both and wrote out “Milo. If you’re seeing this, that means that I have left your house. I’m sorry for leaving on such short notice but I feel as if I haven’t been a good enough house guest for you at all! Actually, I’ve been a horrible one to be honest with you. I feel like I’ve been taking advantage of your pure utter kindness for a broken, terrible man like me. I hope you meet someone that is redeemable. - Magus”. He placed down the sticky note on Milo’s fridge, before departing the place for good.A minute later Milo awoke from his slumber. “Ughhh man…what time is it?” He looked up to his clock and noticed only around 10 minutes had passed. “Damn…maybe I should go back to sle- huh?” He noticed a note on his fridge, so he got up to investigate. “Milo, if you’re seeing this, that means I have LEFT YOUR HOUSE?! Blah blah blah not good enough house guest actually a horrible one broken man WHAT THE HELL?!” Milo kicked open his door and ran through his neighborhood, making many turns along the way. “MAGUS! MAAAGUUUUS! COME BACK!”“Hmmm…I have an idea!” Milo said to himself, as he ran up to a random guy walking his dog. “Hello, sir! Have you seen a man with a huge gaping hole in his face? Around 6 foot five? With a hat that his eyes are in?”“...You need some serious help, dude.” The man said in response to Milo, looking confused and disgusted at the image that had popped into his mind. “Oh god…a gaping hole…disgusting.” “BARK BARK BARK!!!” The dog tried leaping at Milo, but he got shoved back to his owner because of the leash strapped around the doggo’s neck.“Well…well…I didn’t need your help! Well I mean I did but you didn’t have to be so mean about it! Jeez…” Milo was stumped, and didn’t know what to do. That is, until he heard a voice from afar. A high pitched, extremely annoying scream coming from a woman ways away from him.“AAAHHHH!! IS THAT A ZOMBIE??!?! GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU FREAK!”“What did I ever do to you, huh? HUH?! HUH?!?!???!!” Magus pushed the woman away from him, and ran away. Milo knew what that woman meant by the fact that she called the thing she saw a zombie, so Milo booked it to the direction of the voice.After a solid minute of sprinting down the sidewalk, following all laws he could on the way, he made it to the lady he heard. “Ma’am, do you know which way the zombie went?” He asked.“He ran down the road, exiting the neighborhood by climbing that BIG gate that was kept in place to protect this area. He climbed it with just 1 freaking arm!! That zombie man is DELUSIONAL! I mean, he was scary and all with that hole in his face and yet HE seemed offended! I swear that I’m gonna tell the mayor the town about this! I’ll have you know that he’s my husband for god sake and-” She seemed scared yet also seemed like an annoying chatterbox at the same time.“Uh, thanks..you annoying old hag.” Milo booked it to the exit of his neighborhood, jaywalking in the process showing how serious he was about this even though literally nobody cares about jaywalkers. Soon enough he made it to the gate, seeing Magus on the other side, sitting down, resting his head on a tree.“Oh, hey Milo.” Magus said in a defeated tone, having a sad glimmer in his eyes that Milo could see. “Once again, I’m sorry I left on short notice but you know this is for the greater good, right?”“Wh-what do you mean by that, Magus?” Milo asked, while trying to climb over the gate himself, proving to be a big challenge for him.“I’ve done many horrible things in the past. Horrible things in which most acts I do not stand by. I would say almost everything I did was morally wrong, and even the things that felt morally right felt unnecessary to me.”“Psshhh, come on Magus I bet they weren’t THAT bad. Like what did you do anyway? The worst thing would be that you killed a bunch of people or something like that but the most you would do is theft! Or at least, that’s how I see you.”“The thing is…that’s exactly what I did. I went off against an entire army of men that tried killing me mainly to avenge their fallen comrades that I had snapped the necks of MANY times, yet I killed all of them anyway. I also killed a demon planning to take over this planet slowly as well but I feel that maybe that didn’t matter-”“YOU KILLED A DEMON?! Dude…YOU’RE AWESOME! I bet all those other guys you killed deserved it anyway! I-I’m surprised you aren’t looked at as a hero! Although, you’ve probably kept this all under wraps, huh?”“Yeah…only some poor souls will stumble across that Costco, but nobody will believe them if they try telling anyone about it anyway. Either way, I still feel like a horrible man.”“Why?” By this point, Milo had finally fully climbed the gate and dropped down to the ground, sitting next to Magus.“At that place, I…I killed one of my best pals. I didn’t know the man that much and I didn’t know him for long, but through the things he did he probably saved my life more than once and cared for me when everybody else would probably try to kill me. Then I killed him. Sure, he attacked me first but that’s only because of the menace I became when I entered that place. Nobody wants to be like me, trust me.”“Dude…that sounds awful. But it was just self defense, right? The guy seemed destined on killing you, so-”“He didn’t want to kill me by the end of the fight. He wanted to live, yet I shot him anyway. You see this on my hat?” He tilted his head down a little, pointing at the initials “LR” on his hat. “These are the initials of that man. I did this in his honor.”“It seems that you changed, Magus. You went from great, to heartless, but now I would say you’ve redeemed yourself, man. You should feel proud of yourself.”“You know what? You’re right.” Magus stood up, pulling up Milo with him. “You’re a great man, why don’t you come along with me on a journey? A journey through this confusing labyrinth of a city, we’ll just need to get out of the outskirts first. I wanna explore the sights, see the places and perhaps do some more things in honor of the man I treasure the most, even if he’s gone. What do you say, Milo?” Magus put his hand out, seeking a handshake. “...Heck yeah!” Milo turned Magus’ hand that he had put out and made it into a fist, fistbumping him.“YEAH!!!! Thanks, Milo. You have been so incredibly nice to me that frankly, it’s shocking. No man has ever treated me this way before, even when I was a popular, renowned magician back when I didn’t look like…well…this.”“Anything for my new bud! Now let’s go see the sights of the god awful city of CHICAGO BABY!”CHAPTER 2 END
Original Story Oneshots
HOLES"H. I. M. 'M' as in man." With a sigh, Beryl finished reading the vision map. The optometrist pursed his lips and removed a pen light from his crisp white coat. He watched the dark circle of her pupil shrink to a pin point within the deep blue of her iris."I don't know what to tell you, Miss Alderton. Your eyes are perfect," he said. Beryl fished around in her purse. She was a petite woman with blond ringlets framing an unlined, heart-shaped face. The size of the black Nike bag and the way her sneaker-clad feet didn't touch the floor made her look childish. She pulled out a wrinkled letter and passed it to the doctor as she strained for the right words. "I can't read this."The optometrist unfolded it with care. He moved his lips as he read, saying phrases like I think of you, never forget, always think of you when seeing tulips and I'll always regret out loud with clinical precision before he folded the paper back up. "As far as I can see, there's nothing wrong with the ink or the paper."The doctor proceeded with asking Beryl a couple of questions and nodded, then he told her that he had just the thing but it wouldn't be ready until Monday."Can you read just a little more out loud?" Beryl asked. "Please!"A benevolent smile, eyes crinkling. In that moment, Beryl thought the white-bearded man looked almost like Santa. If you can imagine a Santa in white scrubs rather than the traditional, fur-brimmed, red tunic. And perhaps you can, because it was late May and over 85 degrees outside. She listened to 'Santa' reading, then she bit back her tears as she got the letter handed back to her. "Thanks," the word was muted as she stood. They shook hands, his was dry and steadfast, and for the first time did she really read his name-tag. 'Santa' was called Cole Zakariah, and somehow that name sounded like he could be a character in an off-Broadway musical. The kinds that are a little bitter-sweet, and doesn't run for a long time. Zakariah opened the door for her, and she hasted through the reception room and over to the elevators. As she walked, she could feel eyes upon her, and it made her uncomfortable. Outside, Beryl squinted in the sunlight. Ever since The Talk, she'd noticed the blurs, the absences where she knew things must be. It made driving terrifying and she watched her gunmetal-grey Tesla like it was a dangerous animal she didn't want to wake up.Keys hard in her hand as she blipped it open and slipped into the driver's seat. Santa had read his letter. If her life had been a movie, there would be sad music now. Strings and such. Maybe a piano. Or a harp. What better than a harp. And it really should have been raining. Torrents that filled every pot hole in the street and made people bring out their umbrellas. As she started driving, the city spread out before her like a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces. Driving through the Redwood Av was worst. As soon as she turned into it, holes filled her vision. When they'd been together, before The Talk, Beryl and Dean had fallen in love here. The bench where he'd first kissed her was gone, as was the kiosk where they'd bought ice cream. She sort of remembered it having a red and white striped, toppy roof, covered with a weathervane. Erased patches of grass caught her eye as she drove, and every time someone walked over them her stomach tightened.It was late Friday, and people were out to enjoy the sunshine after a long winter. Beryl was happy she could see them at least, especially as they ran across the zebra crossing as if they were the ones who couldn't see her, or her Tesla. Slowly, she drove slowly the rows of restaurants and boutiques, people walking into gaping holes where their favourite restaurants used to be. Some disappeared into the spaces where La Famiglia and Roppongi used to be. Still was. The invisible Italian restaurant was open late, and she and Dean used to go there after sex, their faces still aglow. Further up, Beryl couldn't see the upscale restaurant where they'd celebrated over bottles of wine and candlelight. Instead, Kentucky Fried's employees opened shutters and set up tables like very dedicated mimes.Young girls with ponytails, bronze tans, and bikinis laughed as they washed down a rental catamaran, spraying each other in the process, while preparing for an afternoon sail and snorkeling trip full of tourists. Seagulls and pelicans rested on pilings, waiting for the afternoon arrival of the seaport’s few remaining charter boats and their free meal. Six-foot tarpon skimmed the surface, looking for handouts in competition with the seabirds. Small groups of tourists wandered along the wooden dock, stopping to gawk at the tarpon and the classic ships that rested in their slips.Beryl gritted her teeth. What was it with this town? Why was everyone so annoyingly happy all the time? Couldn't they just leave her alone to be angry for a bit? Please!And people were still taking selfies where they Clown statue used to be. Strange, as the bronze figure was long gone with his large pants, tiny monkey and barrel organ. She and Dean had made one of their first selfie just in front of that Clown, she still had the pic somewhere in the phone, but she didn't dare looking at it, fearing it would only show her. No Dean. No Clown. Just holes where they used to be, Beryl made a mental note to take a different route next time when she noticed the guys yelling at her. Assholes. Dean was always surprised Beryl with her looks wasn't used to it by now. She rolled her eyes and sped off as much as the crowds would allow. ***From the pavement, Dean watched the grey Tesla drive away. Ever since The Talk had he been patrolling their old hoods. When he was sure it was her car, he stood in the middle of the road and waved. Dean waited until he could see her eyes - those bright blue eyes - staring straight through him. He jumped out of the way just in time. He thanked the guys who'd tried to stop her but they laughed him off. He couldn't blame them. A beard was crawling up his face, he hadn't changed his clothes or showered for days and he reeked of desperation. Of course, she hadn't recognized him.He should go home, he knew it. Get a grip. Get a life. Stop calling sick from work, if he still wanted to keep that job. After all it paid well without too much hassle. But his mind spun, he couldn't seem to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. ***Quickly, Beryl hustled up the stairs to her apartment and shut the door, locked it with both locks. For the last couple of weeks, she'd felt like someone was always just behind her and it made her edgy. Inside, the apartment was more barren than it had ever been. She had taken most of the photos down. Looking at herself, alone, on the top of the Spanish Steps in Rome, her alone smiling into the camera in the tree swing, her lips, kissing the air as the sun set behind her, her body leaning inward, toward empty space was just too creepy.Even her bed was all wrong. Her sheets were smudged with blank spots, where acrylic paint should've been. The night before The Talk they'd been painting in bed. At least that's how it had started. Paint meant for the canvas got on her legs, then on his cheeks, then spread in streaks to her bed as the painting was abandoned for other pursuits. Beryl left his other paintings on the walls, even if they were just geometric blurs of colours now. She looked at the pier through her kitchen window. It looked like someone had taken a saw to it and cleanly cut away chunks. Half of it was simply gone - pilings, bars and boardwalk missing. The ocean gave deference to the missing pieces, breaking as if everything was just fine.She moved over to the fridge and took out a coke. What she really wanted was a coffee, an espresso, but the machine was gone. As was the small barrels you loaded it with. She thought of buying a new one, or perhaps one of those small cans the Italians themselves used. Why not?A chime of the door-bell made her flinch. So jittery! Fidgeting, she tip-toed up to the peep hole, gazing through it, happy to see her neighbour's head, light-bulb-shaped through the warped glass. Elias and Dean had never gotten along, but Beryl always had a good feeling about Elias. He worked out too much, was just a little too friendly, but these days Beryl was relieved to see something familiar clearly and she let him in with a smile.Elias was tall and his dark-brown hair was always settled into a perfectly spaced bed of gelled spikes. Dean used to joke that he probably slept with his head hanging off the mattress, which also explained why Elias always had a hand on the back of his neck. It was there now, as he asked to borrow some milk. Beryl paused and Elias apologized, his hand moving fast on his neck."Sure," she said, spinning around and returning to the kitchen. There was the fridge. It had started to smell after The Talk. Beryl had taken everything out, wiped down the shelves, the drawers, and put everything back, still the smell slapped her in the face every time she opened the door. She'd started eating out more, stopped bringing home leftovers, choosing to leave her food on the plate instead. She eyed the fridge warily."Sorry, but what is that smell?" Elias stopped in the door frame just behind her. "I don't know. It's the weirdest thing, I've cleaned it like I don't know how many times, but it just reeks and I don't know what's…"Elias reached in and pulled out nothing. It sounded like aluminium and smelled like death. He held it like a dirty diaper and Beryl could see the tips of his fingers pushing down on what must have been the edges of The world's oldest burrito. "Seriously, this might be a record. How long have you had this?"Beryl smiled, her fingers over her nose as she looked at the emptiness in Elias's hand, trying to remember the last time she and Dean had gone for Mexican. It was just before The Talk. Dean always got the juevos rancheros burrito. The pairing of eggs and beans had always mystified Beryl. But the silence went on too long, she should say something to Elias, she knew, but she couldn't think of anything. So she was glad when the phone rang. The familiar crescendo of Mona-Lisa Overdrive as Elias took the smell away, not wanting to eaves drop.Beryl checked the display. As a rule, she never answered calls unless she recognized the number. But ever since The Talk, most of the numbers showed up as lines of fuzzy characters. She let her voicemail get it then scrolled through her contacts. Everything was fine until she reached the place where Dean's number should've been.***Dean watched Beryl's brawny neighbour throw out his old leftovers. He almost called out to him, but he'd always hated the guy. Beryl had a gravitational pull as strong as the sun's, and she sucked guys like Elias into her orbit without meaning to. And the poor sod had that deer in headlights look every time he saw her. Dean hated it. Again, he called Beryl's phone, knowing she wouldn't pick up. She hadn't answered his calls since The Talk. He remembered when he first heard her voice over the phone, the throatiness of it, the way she could fill a pause with so much. When their calls got dropped, they'd both try and call at the same time, and get the busy signal.***Beryl knew exactly where to look on her phone, but it just wasn't there. She'd tried driving to his apartment and waiting for him, but the route was always wrong. The last time she'd gone looking for it, she'd ended up by some outlet where they sold computers and TV-sets. The time before that, she'd stopped in front of the main library instead. And she'd been sitting there for a while, regarding the hole where the Cupid fountain used to be. The one Dean had chosen for their second last selfie before The Talk. Now, she just stood there with the phone, thinking of lost Cupids huge flat screen TV-sets. She wanted one of these, as her old TV often showed holes, where there should've been movies like Avatar and Wonder Woman. ***Moments later, Elias returned for his milk, the smell of Dean's leftovers still hanging on him. Beryl had to shut the door on his smile to finally be rid of it. The smell – not the smile. She dead-bolted the door. The sun was setting over the broken pier and the kids above seemed to have invited a track-and-fields team.She flopped onto the couch, eyed the TV-set without switching it on and tried to remember Dean's face. She couldn't. The night before The Talk, they'd walked down the pier, stopping at a compromise ice-creamery, which subsequently vanished. They'd switched off cones, her taking a lick of Dean's rainbow sherbet while he grimaced through her coffee créma. As soon as they got to her apartment, he pushed her against the door. She could feel his hard body against hers, but couldn't imagine its dimensions, remembered his hands in her hair as he kissed her, the taste of his lips as they parted her own, but his mouth was completely gone.They'd worked their way to the bed and begun painting. Yet Beryl couldn't see the colours. The canvas just took on more white, and the brushes worked like erasers, smudging away even the hint of their brush strokes. Then it was on her leg, then his face, and she could almost imagine his clothes strewn about the room, but now she was filling in the blanks. There was only empty space where Dean should be in her brain. She grasped for images to fill it until she was done.***Dean stood outside of the front door. He'd done it a few times since The Talk, but then she'd changed her code and he couldn't get in anymore. He'd had to wait for Elias to go on his jog, or that old lady to take her dog out, and then slip in as the door shut. Dean thought about what he would say, how he would frame his apology.Right after they finished The Talk, as he was leaving to give her time to think about it, that was when the coin finally dropped. It was like seeing your keys still in the ignition while you locked the door to your car. You knew what you were doing was stupid, but by then it was too late. He gulped and pressed the door bell, listening to the oh-so-well known chord. When it rang out, he could hear movement inside.Please, come to the door, he pleaded in his mind. Please, just gimme one minute. Or two. That's all I ever need. Then, if it doesn't convince you, then I'd be gone in a zip. Never to return.Was that a promise he could keep?He didn't know. The lady and her dog stepped out the front door and the dog went instantly to a blue bike to take a leak. Quickly, Dean slipped inside before the door shut again. ***Beryl opened her eyes and cursed under her breath. She retied the drawstring to her sweatpants as she headed to the door and reached for the dead bolt but stopped. The door bell ding-dong-donged again. She looked through the peephole. The carpet and the walls stretched forward through the glass, but the hallway was empty."Just go away, okay? This ain't funny," Beryl shouted through the door. But the ding-dong-dong came again. Then there was a hammering sound on the door. Eventually so hard, she thought the lock might give, and almost hoped it would so at least she could see who it was. But as she dashed back to the living room, the whole frame creaked. Then it stopped. Beryl waited, her breath escaping in fits as she tried to hold it. She returned to the door peeked through the peep-hole, keeping the chain on. The hallway was still empty.***Beryl wasn't sure if the odour came from the optometrist or from the room itself. It was the smell of disinfectant, if the sound fluorescent lights make was turned into an odour.Cole 'Santa' Zakariah held a medicine bottle up and shook it like a maraca. A single pill ricocheted against the orange plastic."Now, you understand, while this is perfectly safe, there are some side effects.""Isn't there always? Isn't life full of side effects.""Don't be so hard on yourself young lady. Think of what you may miss out."Beryl thought about all the empty places, the pier standing like it was whole, even though half of it was gone. She thought about non-existing ice cream boots and missing fountains, blurry paintings and her empty hallway. "I'm already missing out things. I have a life full of holes in it." She held out her hand and the optometrist dropped the box in it.***Beryl got into her Tesla. She checked for blanks in her mirrors, but the street looked complete card again. It was Monday afternoon, and most people were still working, the kids in school. She drove slowly past La Famiglia and then Roppongi. She could see the customers inside, seated by tables and eating, drinking and talking. She passed Wendy's. The shutters were up and behind the glass, waiters wiped down checkered tablecloths.She hurried up to her apartment. Inside her place, she saw everything for what felt like the first time. The walls were still mostly empty, except for some mediocre paintings; a pair of fish surrounded by blue, buildings crowding out each other in a cityscape. She wondered why she put them up. She noticed flecks of paint on her bed sheets and was bundling them up to toss out when her phone rang.She checked the display and wracked her brain to put a face to the name. Nothing came up, but she answered anyway."Hello?""Hi. Oh my god, I can't believe you picked up." The man's voice on the other end was strained. Beryl knew that she was supposed to say something now, the pause on the other end was waiting for her to but she was at a loss. "It's just so great to hear your voice." There was another pause, fat with possibility."I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number." She terminated the call. ***Dean dropped the phone from his ear, staring at it in his hand as the line went dead.***Then, she took out a large trash bag and stuffed the sheets in, then the paintings. She dumped her purse on the counter, and plucked junk from the pile; gum wrappers, nubby chap stick, a worn piece of paper. Her phone rang but she ignored it. She'd have to get that number blocked.She carried the bag of trash downstairs, the edges of the canvases jutting through the plastic. A bum watched her open the dumpster. She lifted the bag, but the paintings tore through it. He watched, teary eyed, as she picked up the paintings, one by one, tossed them in and rushed back into the apartment. She ran into Elias on the staircase and they chatted until they reached their respective doors. Elias watched Beryl unlock hers and step in. Beryl liked that, having someone looking after her.
Checkered Squares: By the Black Petaled ManBy the wailing pool of black, sat a table, a table marble white. As white as the fountain pool, as sinister as liquid black. Upon this table white rested a checkered square, a checkered square of red and black to match the roses there. Many a game and many a night were lost atop these checkered squares, found on table marble white next to a pool of liquid black. And as the pool of liquid black sat on fountain of marble white, so did these checkered squares rest dolefully on blood spilled there. Many a man would wager there upon the checkered squares against the man of petal black. And many a many would lose more than he dared on games of checkered squares. What drove sane men to seek him there, he never knew. What stirred the men to wager more than dare and lose a flower there. A flower just discarded upon a checkered dare. Woe to the poor girls, for this isn’t fair, for they dared to not be there, now they shall lay bare. But a clever man, the petal’d man is, for a thought began to brew. He sipped black liquid from fountain pool and sat at the table white. He plucked a rose from beneath and placed her on the table there. But before she started her cries and wails, the man of petals hushed her and said: “Shh, if ye can play with well noted skill, I’ll take your seeds by honeybees and carry them to worlds of men. Back where ye were from and ye will play with men who sent you here and learn of the game.” “But Master, sir” replied the rose “If ye teach the game to me I may come to rue and unmake ye.” “Tis true fine lass, but the same chance lies from me to you.” The rose considered her master’s answer and replied “Teach me”....
The Huntress and The Demon Chapter 5He was a fool.Such a fool indeed.Simon thought for once, things would start changing for the better. But that dream became tainted. Just like everything else in his life.Tainted by Darkness.He had such hope. He might have just ruined everything. Simon honestly, truly thought that Luna would be the one to break the curse.When he was sure, he had told his servants. They all thought they had a chance at being free. They even had a little celebration, as it had been so long since they had something worth celebrating. It was just a small feast. They had Artichoke with butter, shrimp, fancy cheese with crackers and fruit, peta bread and hummus, spinach and cream cheese dips, and lavender lemonade. They enjoyed it around a huge bonfire.But there was a moment where the fire suddenly turned blue and raised higher. It died down, but left a swirl of amber floating down, which quickly became smoke and blew away in the wind. Everyone took it as a sign. Something was coming.If only Simon had known it only gets worse before it gets better. What he thought was something good turned into a disaster. His life had always been a disaster ever since that dreadful day. The day of his parent’s deaths. Everything after that was dreadful. Simon was especially dreadful. Dragons were never handsome creatures to begin with. His body and face covered with scales, claws for hands, and crowning his head was a pair of horns. But his eyes– My god, his eyes! They were unchanged, as hazel and human as the day the curse had been laid. The only difference was a ring of red in the pupil: a reminder of his curse. You can imagine how people run in terror from him. To recognize his eyes and know the horror and corruption he had become– how it strikes fear into their hearts. Fear of him. Even Simon was terrified of himself, as his own eyes now held him. Him staring into them and them staring into him. Who could love such a hideous beast? Simon would hate himself too. But as a child, there was one who loved him. Simon was now focused on a scent he detected. The scent was something that spoke of warmth and light and comfort. Something he had known in another life. As memory tugged at his brain, he made his way to the gallery. It was there he saw a twinkling light.Candle wax.The scent was candle wax.Then, he saw the portrait. It remained untouched over the years, hung above the candle. In the portrait was a woman of middle years in a white cotton & wool dress, smiling gently but sadly down on Simon. Strength left him as he sank to the floor, staring up at her. Every line of her kind face was intimately familiar. His heart broke as memories returned to him.Mother.A miserable whine rose in his throat. He’d never felt such wretchedness. She was the only mother he had known. “You must be the best man you know how to be.” she would say to him. Simon hung his head. I am not a man. He thought.He couldn’t even bear to look at himself. He had destroyed every mirror in the house long ago. All but one. A small hand mirror that belonged to his mother. Simon couldn’t bring himself to destroy something that belonged to his mother. So he kept it locked away.The only thing that was more agonizing than his ugliness was the sound of silence that surrounded him.On his fifthteenth birthday, a strange magic had entered the palace. A spell that creeped in the walls. It turned his servants invisible. After his parents died, a lot of the staff left except a few: A chef and his helper, a handmaiden, and a kitchen hand. All of them were turned invisible. No explanation. Simon thought he was going crazy until they became visible again. Everyone, through a course of a few months, learned that the spell was connected to the moon phases. When the moon was full and in the sky, they were people and could talk. But when the moon was dark, they would be invisible and mute once more. When Simon asked one of them what it was like, a living hell was the only way to describe it. They could not see themselves or each other and even a mirror did not show their reflections. They couldn’t speak either while in this form. No appearance and no voice. No one knew whether it was connected to the curse or not. His invisible servants were by no means physical beings during the spell. They did as he bid them, but aside from that, talking to them was like talking to the wind. No replies.Simon’s sorrow was loneliness. His craving was for human company. So when the chance came to see and speak to another human being, he took the opportunity without thinking twice. Who knows how many years Simon spent there alone? Likely, three years. Hanna was the only one keeping count, as he never did. Time was irrelevant and the days went on while the rest of his world remained unchanged.Then the day came when he first saw Luna and was in love. He wanted nothing more than to be with her. Simon did all he could to watch over Luna. Even her family.Even her brother.He came to the palance, cold and hungry. Simon and his servants provided every comfort possible. Jonathan was Luna’s brother after all. Luna. The moon goddess.His heart soured at the tenderness in her eyes, and shriveled as he remembered the image of his own face, covered in scales and crowned with twisted horns. He felt as though his heart were breaking, like the shattering of glass. One night, he slept and dreamed. Luna was smiling for him, with the eyes like that of a lover, sweetheart, and wife. In her hands were roses of every color: red and orange woven in her hair and yellow & pink strewn about her feet. She plucked one from her heart and brought it to her face. The creamy white petals turned a delicate pink as it touched her lips, then became crimson red as she reached her hand for him to take the rose. Unable to resist, Simon’s claws went to reach, only to find a human hand in its place. When he awoke, he could barely breathe for wanting! He never thought a woman would smile at him like that again. Never seen such a smile: he had wished to. He had to see her, to speak to her. But now that was ruined too: he had let his anger cloud his judgment.Jonathan could have had anything from the palance, but he took that rose. He could have picked any rose from his garden, but it had to be that one. But how could that boy have known what that particular rose had meant to him. He never should have made that barigan. That was all a big test. Simon felt silly acting all threatening, but he just truly wanted to test how much love the family has for each other. He’s really just scared to be wrong about her.After all, Simon never knew such love. He is still figuring out how love works, trying to sort out his own feelings for that matter. Luna would never accept such a bargain. Who would? Jonathan probably returned home and plans on never coming back. He can’t blame him. Simon was fooling himself, no one’s coming back.It’s all hopeless....
SPEED DATINGOh, the horror. Oh, the bliss. Was it even possible to find your intended one by speed dating in a bar like the Chameleon. Well, apparently enough people thought so. And one of them was Annamaria Kalinsky, who'd visited the bar almost every Tuesday for about three years now, or at least as long as they'd kept it up during the pandemic. But it wasn't really that simple for a woman like her."I read minds," Annamaria said to the man across from me at the speed-dating table. He cocked his head skeptically, blond fringe falling down in his face, hiding a freckled forehead, blue eyes frowning behind steel-rimmed glasses. "'Kay..." he dragged it out in skepticism."I do," she insisted. "Literally. Think of a number." He did and Annamaria read him."Three dot one four one five nine," Annamaria said immediately. That was pi, an important number in geometry. A pretentious choice, but at least the blond seemed to be taking her seriously. That wasn't often. The blond fell right out of his chair. Annamaria focused on him again and read that his prior boozy appreciation of her tight-fitting stone-washed jeans and tank top had been replaced by fear. Damn. He had seemed nice after all. Resigned to it, she stood from her seat. "I don’t think this is going to work out," she said. "Sorry.""Sorry," the blond replied, still pale behind those Scandinavian freckles as he held out a large workman's hand, equally freckled. They shook hands, he moved over to the petite brunette by the next table and she went to the bar. "You doing alright, Ted?" Annamaria asked. She was a regular at the Chameleon and the bartender knew her, but she was always pleased by his toothy smile, that lit up his dark face as if he was an inverted emoji."I’m sure you’ve had worse," Ted said as his smile shrunk. Then he seemed troubled, so she read her and saw that he was worried about her. Why she never meet anyone. So many people were so kind - but some weren't, and when you’re looking to meet someone, you have to know.This complicated her life. She wasn't asking for anyone's sympathy. All have their problems, and the next guys collection of difficulties was definitely as important to him as hers seem to her.Ted gave Annamaria a Bud on the house and turned away to fill tankards for some men in suit and ties who were definitely not from around. Lawyer kinds of bit, she thought as she watched them flash their Amex cards, sip their beers and between themselves deeming these too declassee. Contrary to what commoners might believe, it wasn't fun to read minds. Between the creeps, the guys Annamaria scare away, the guys who have ideas how she could make them rich, and the ordinary issues of attraction and compatibility, there weren't a lot of people she felt compatible with. People who she could actually be with. It was worse than being really tall or having bad skin.Nevertheless, Annamaria liked speed dating at the Chameleon. The place was shabby but friendly and the gloomy spaces lit by chandeliers with real candles had great ambiance. Here, every day was like a Friday. Everyone dressed as they liked and enough many people know each other to provide with a balance between exciting and home-like. And when the conversation didn't sparkle, she could always dance with the guy for a few minutes. The bell rang, the present speed-dating session ended and the participants rotated. Annamaria returned to the table and found herself sitting down across from a guy looking like The Crow with red hair. She looked him up and down appreciatively."Hi," he said. For a change, she wanted to postpone the disappointment, so she gestured towards the dance floor. He was amenable. They spent the next seven minutes twisting together beneath the chandelier, the candles flickering to the heavy beat, him stomping and jerking with no rhythm at all but with great enthusiasm.As the song switched to the next on that well-known playlist of oldies and standards, Annamaria and 'Crow' sat back down and started chatting. "When can we get together," he started off with and then "My apartment is just down the street". And Annamaria cooled on him a bit. Then he went to take her hand and she pulled it away."I can read minds," she started. Just as usual."Sure," he replied, staring at her boobs hardly hidden by the red tank top. "I can," she insisted. "Think of a number."Grudgingly, he did, leering. she read him. Sixty-nine. "Nice meeting you," she said, standing up. Back to the bar. A little wholesome lust was nice but the two of them hadn’t exchanged more than three sentences. These days that, Annamaria was convinced that the more people she read, the lower her opinion of humanity sank. The bell rang anew. The participants rotated again. The next guy was short and dumpy but had a nice smile, kind of melancholy. He was thinking of cars, apparently he was selling them, and he was thinking of electric cars and of metallic lacquer more than he was thinking of dating. The car-seller and Annamaria said their hellos, and she figured she would make this quick."I should let you know, I read minds," she said."Okay," his lips split in a smile. "I can tell the future."Annamaria laughed, momentarily put off her game. "Okay," she echoed. This could be interesting."You think I like it?" he said. "Whenever I meet someone, I have to keep on being polite and act interested even if I already know it’s not going anywhere. I’ve wasted a fortune buying drinks," he added morosely.Annamaria gave the man credit for creativity and quick thinking and played along. "I don’t believe it.""Why would you?" He laughed. Then pointed to the dance floor, where a woman with big hair was now dancing with The Crow, jiving beneath the jittering chandelier. "You see the redhead out there? In a minute, one of those candlesticks is going to fall off the chandelier and light her hair on fire. Excuse me." He stood up, walked up to the bar. "May I get a pitcher of water, please?" Ted the bartender frowned but handed the car-seller a pitcher and two glasses, which the latter took back to their spot at the table. He poured them each half a glass and then they waited. Annamaria not knowing whether to be amused or not.Then she watched in utter astonishment as, on cue, The Crow flung up one of his long arms and accidentally tapped the swinging lamp. A candlestick dislodged and tumbled into his partner's giant hair. It caught fire immediately and screaming out loud, she beat ineffectively at it with her hands.The Crow seemed quite lost, then tried to help her, then realized it hurt and took a step back, colliding with a table where a man in dreads was conversing a bookish kind of girl.Meanwhile, the car-seller strode onto the dance floor and poured the rest of the pitcher of water over the unfortunate woman's head, extinguishing the flames in her hair. He proceeded with stomping out the candle. The Crow, still not clear what had happened, shoved him angrily. Morticia stepped in and explained, and moments later Annamaria's present date returned to the table."He almost hit you," she said."People have hit me," a laconic answer. "Once I pushed a woman out of the way before a tree fell on her, and not only didn’t she thank me, she called a cop and had me arrested.""Sounds like a terrible situation.""It is." Annamaria realized that he had it worse than her. But he was still helping who he could, even when he might get hit. He was a nice guy, she knew that as she read him. He was going to be nice all the way down. Suddenly, the short, dumpy guy looked a lot sexier.He took a drink of water. "Anyway, you said you could read minds."This time, Annamaria really hoped he wouldn’t be scared off by my own talent. "Think of a number," she asked him.He thought of three. "Three," she said."That’s right," he laughed. "That’s the number of kids we’re going to have."
FanFiction Oneshots
Circle in the Sand Part Two-CG:LD One-Shot,Hi Everyone,Here is Part Two of Circle in the Sand for you all to enjoy.Me and Makarov hope you enjoy the chapter and seeing what Akira and Nathan are heading into come Liar's Dice.Thanks very muchKind Regards,,, Akira and Nathan, having enjoyed their meals at the restaurant despite some twats from JLB Credit trying it to hit on her before seeing Nat and scrambling away, and gave their farewell to Maya and James, and made their way through Aberdeen.They strolled through the teeming streets of the city, its bustle a tangible entity that clung to the fringes of their solitude. There, nestled among the urban tapestry, was a poster - bright, unabashed, and festive - but carrying a message far beyond the yuletide sentiment.The poster was a tableau, a vibrant echo of the nations of England, Scotland, and Wales in their proud individuality, yet collectively robust. A united Ireland, too, lent its strong presence to the canvas. Representing each land were their soldiers, stoic and unyielding, their figures poised as if to trample a petite caricature of Napoleon bearing the label 'Fascism'.The caricature, its features grotesquely exaggerated, appeared to tremble beneath the stern countenances of the soldiers. It stood, dwarfed and pitiful, against the staunch dignities of the nations and their protectors, its humorous exaggeration serving only to underscore the resolve of these united lands - a resolve that resounded with fortitude, autonomy, and a stern refusal to surrender to threats against their sovereignty.Beneath the vivid tableau ran a slogan, as audacious as it was empowering: "Equality and Unity in Diversity, say 'Fuck Off, Imperialist Cunts'". The words were a challenge, a battle cry, a firm declaration of the nations' combined strength and unity. “Ever thus to tyrants and despots,” Akira said out loud as she continued to gaze at the statue.“Indeed, now if that makalka would understand that and stop gailing on about how Napoleon was this and that, that would make dealing with much less of a faffle,” Akira heard her lover say.Knowing that he was referring to a certain EU Colonel that they had known and worked with for a long time, ever since they had met in Germany during the war.Personally, she had found him a bit of drip and in love with his voice, despite his attitude for strategy and logistics that had seen his rapid rise in the ranks of firs the Greek army, then the EU’s that was made permanent after the war ended.“Yeah, still can’t believe its been nearly 200 years, since the shrimp had sunk Nellie at Trafalgar, marched right into London a few years later and raised the french flags over Tower Bridge, Westminster. Not to mention what he and his generals did to the north, and what did it our so called royals did, chicken away at Edinburgh and pissed off to leave us to be subjected for nearly half a decade. And the scots helped them to do this,” Nat said bitterly as he eyed Akira and other locals.This infuriated Akira as she gripped her free hand into a right oh fist.“Excuse me? We held off the frogs at Hardian and elsewhere for over a year, compared to you English who couldn’t even prevent Napoleon and the rest of his army from taking Southampton and surrendering without so much of a fight after the battle of Norwich, Cornwall and Portsmouth, the only victor you could muster was at Coventry, holding down London for a few months and that was only because you got Marshall Murat as he tried to make himself King of the isles at site of Camelot and go shot by his own men.” Akira thundered back.“Yeah, and did you stop Elizabeth, Ricardo and her knights from fleeing after you made her renounce the throne? No, they gave you lot the slip in the cover of night, and now we have them and the rest of the fake bloods claiming ancestry to us and laying false claimants to our history, culture because the scots let them get away at Edinburgh, so thanks for that you bas-.” Akira halting her love by putting her finger to his lips.“Enough Nat, i don’t want to get into another history debate with you after everything that has happened tonight, please drop it and let us enjoy a walk on the beach before we go back to our Lodge?”“Yes of course, sorry for going into a rant,” The two made their way through the town, as the bright lights of Christmas illuminated the way. The tensions between them still embittering as the pair slipped each other’s hands away from each other and gave a small gap between them.The silvery moon hung high in the clear night sky, casting a pale, ethereal glow over the beach. The vast expanse of sand shimmered under its light, reflecting the brilliance of the stars above. The rhythmic lull of the waves gently caressed the shore.Akira wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the cool breeze as it danced with her hair and played with the hem of her dress. The cold sand underfoot contrasted sharply with the warmth of some evening drinks that had passed. Nathan, beside her, seemed lost in thought, his silhouette a shadowy figure against the moonlit horizon.The world around them felt suspended, as if time had paused to grant them this solitary moment of reflection amidst the chaos of their lives as they sat on the thankfully dry bench.After what felt like an eternity, Nathan's voice, soft and contemplative, cut through the tranquillity. "Nights like these, they make you realize how small we really are in the grand scheme of things, don't they?"Akira glanced at him, noticing the way the moonlight caught the contours of his face, highlighting the depth of emotion in his eyes. "They do," she murmured, "And yet, amidst this vastness, our problems, our struggles, they somehow seem both insignificant and magnified."He nodded slowly, processing her words. "The universe is a paradox, isn't it? Infinite in its scope, yet every star, every grain of sand, has its place."She smiled faintly. "It's humbling and empowering at the same time. Makes you cherish moments like these."The cold sand beneath her feet and the rhythmic lull of the waves provided a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions churning within Akira. The weight of the meeting still bore heavily on her shoulders, and the moonlight shimmering over the water seemed to hold her in a contemplative trance.She could feel Nathan beside her, sense his hesitance, hear him taking a deep breath before breaking the silence. "Aki, are you satisfied with how the meeting went? With everything we discussed?"Akira didn't respond immediately. She kept walking, her pace steady, every step sinking into the sand, marking her internal journey of reflection. The world around her felt both distant and acutely present; the distant call of a seabird, the gentle swish of the waves—all seemed to amplify her introspection.The silence stretched on, and she could feel Nathan's anticipation, the air between them charged with unspoken words. Finally, she halted, her gaze fixed on the vast expanse of water before her, gleaming silver in the moon's embrace.When she turned to face Nathan, her eyes searched his—those familiar eyes that had always been her anchor, now brimming with concern and vulnerability."Do you truly wish to hear my thoughts?" Her voice wavered, a delicate balance between bitterness and an underlying need to be understood.He nodded earnestly. "I do duck. It's important to me."Drawing a shaky breath, Akira let her guard down. "All those discussions, agreements, assurances, I'm struggling, Nathan. I feel torn, and it seems like every decision is forcing me to compromise parts of myself."Akira's feet traced patterns in the cold, wet sand, the receding waves washing them away momentarily. The vastness of the sea, the shimmering dance of the moonlight on its surface, the rhythmic crash of waves - all of it felt so insignificant against the backdrop of their shared history. She exhaled heavily, her breath visible in the chilly air. "I can't help but wonder," she began, her voice carrying the weight of years of struggle, "If our beloved mother was here, would any of this have happened? Would the rape ever have happened? No, I don’t need to question it, I am confident it would have never occurred!”Akira paused, letting Nat taking in the raw intensity of her words. He let out a dry sigh, his gaze fixed on the distant stars. “Yeah well she’s not here is she Aki? She's up there," He said, pointing upwards, his tone dripping with disdain. “She’s left us all to deal with all the crap we have been dealing with while she twiddles her pebbles on Jupiter or wherever the fuck she has gone in her little world.”Akira's eyes followed Nathan's pointing finger, and for a moment, she felt a strange sense of detachment. She felt Nathan's hand close around hers, his grip tight, grounding."You know, sometimes," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, tinged with bitterness, "I wish she could see, truly see, the mess she's left in her wake. But then i remember how she’s pulled this before, pissing off for over a century and then flying back in like nothing happened. We’re just puppets for her to play and discard when she wants to."Suddenly, with a fury that startled Akira, Nathan thrust his other hand upwards, middle fingers extended in a defiant gesture aimed at the cosmos. "To hell with you you bloody slag," he spat literally into the ground.The stillness of the night was shattered as Akira's grip on Nathan tightened once she grabbed him, her fingers digging into his arm. She whirled him around to face her, her face contorted with anger. "How dare you?" she seethed, her voice barely above a whisper, yet dripping with venom. "You dare blaspheme against our 'mother'? After everything she’s done for us, she who welded us together in the first place and accepted us for who we are?"Nathan's eyes flashed, the cold intensity in them matching Akira's fury. "That woman is not our 'mother', And we met because we made our choices, not because she played matching fairies." He said, his tone cutting. "I am going to speak some hard truth’s here Akira MaClean. Whether you like it or not because we need to discuss a few things."Akira felt the force of him leaning in close as the smell of the chicken he had at the restaurant exhaled onto her face, their noses almost touching as the hairs on Aki’s skin rose."Besides, what's she going to do? She doesn't give two shits about what's happening down here. We're mere pawns in her endless bullshit as all the other children she’s had over the centuries.”Akira's pulse quickened as the conversation took an unexpected turn. Nathan's voice, faltered slightly. "You know" he began, his gaze fixed on a distant point, "It's easy for you to pass judgement, but you never had to deal with the consequences of things like I have to do."She frowned, taken aback by the sudden defensiveness in his tone. "I've never claimed the past was spotless. But at least I've tried to confront it."He let out a bitter laugh. "Confront? Like how you've confronted your issues with your mother when we went to Japan two years ago and you ran off before we rang the doorbell? Or your dad when we went to visit him?"Her face grew hot. "That's different, and you know it, My Da didn’t want or know anything about me as you bloody know," She snapped. But deep down, a pang of guilt struck her. “And what about you, what of your own mother? You never even talk about her outside of what I have dragged out of you, never even think about seeing her or introducing me to her, your partner and love to see for myself of who she is!” Akira said as she met Nat’s gaze without flinching.Nathan's eyes, however, held a shadow of pain that Aki knew all too well. "Well you know why, I've never wanted to visit my mother, not after everything that happened," He admitted, his voice laced with emotion that tugged at Akira’s own heart in turn. "The thought of facing her, of explaining us, explaining you, it terrifies me." Nat paused, taking a shaky breath. "Don’t even get me started on my father for reasons you already know, or my good for nothing sister.”For only a moment, Akira watched as his eyes closed in solemn anger. Perhaps at himself or his family? Only for it to turn and twist outwards toward her again. Akira took a deep breath in turn.“And yet you want me to go see my mother just like that? You know that’s unfair nor right of you to ask me to do.” Aki rebutted.Her eyes empathetic but also firm in letting Nat know of how he was trying to shunt her into doing what he wouldn’t do himself on this matter.“Alright your right there Aki, but this still doesn’t change the fact that once again. You’re just trying to throw all your problems onto me, and that you lean back, waiting on our so called mother to come riding in the horse she rode in on and act like she can save everyone? Gobdán!”Akira's chest heaved, anger and frustration bubbling up within her. Her voice trembled, on the verge of breaking, but her gaze never wavered. "It's not just about her," she admitted, her voice tinged with bitterness. "I'm pissed at you, Nathan. You took away my chance at vengeance against Singh, constantly making decisions on my behalf. Every time you look at me, it's as if you see a naive child you need to lecture on the basics life, not the woman who has bled beside you, who has fought just as hard, is just as knowledgeable and helped you through everything and build everything that we have today!"Nathan's face darkened. "This isn't about us," he retorted, but Akira continued, cutting him off."No," she said, her voice rising, "This is about how you've changed. How you've been gallivanting around India these past months, leaving me to fend for myself. Where were you when I needed you? Where were you when I was suffering, when Singh—"She choked on the words, tears of frustration and pain brimming in her eyes. The weight of the past events, the betrayals, the emotional upheavals, all came crashing down on her."You think I've not been there for you?" he shot back, his voice rising with every word. His eyes hardening."You, who did nothing about Singh for months? And why was that Aki? You didn’t answer my question at the hotel last weekend.”“Because-” “No i will tell you why, its because you knew if you went and beat the shit out of him or did anything to him. That the fallout would affect you, me, Bel, Eleana, Maribelle and everyone else. Get our siblings into a riot and Kayci thundering down on us.” Nat said as he circled around Akira.“And that it would give Freya, who has dealings with Singh and allies in the court a chance to humiliate you again like she did last year?” Nat continued.Akira suppressing the memory of how Freya had made her see and do things that left everyone laughing at her and still taunting her about it even today.“And because you, who constantly dumps problems onto me whenever they become too much to handle and left me hanging by vanishing for two months until Michelle basically made you contact me, didn’t want to do shit on this?"Akira flinched at his words, but Nathan continued, years of pent-up frustration and resentment clearly pouring out of his mouth. "For nearly two decades, I've been by your side, enduring, fighting, surviving. Keeping us alive against everything and everyone that has tried to kill us, humiliate us or tried it on with us. We've seen the worst of it, been through hell and back. Do you even remember the Russian war where i saved you countless times and vice versa? The things we faced together? The sacrifices we made? And yet, here you stand, accusing me of not being there for you when you haven’t been there for me at times."His breathing grew heavy, the weight of their shared history pressing down on him. "I have stood by you through every trial, every tribulation. Put up with your erratic decisions, your impulsiveness, your rage, you flaunting your flings with Jack and Mary. But now, when we're faced with an enemy not just outside but within our ranks, you decide to turn on me when you didn’t want me around?"Akira opened her mouth to respond, but Nathan cut her off, his voice cold and unwavering. "You don't get it, do you? The situation in the Order, the balance we're trying to maintain of the truce you talked me into signing up for because you didn’t want to see any of the others dying, the countless lives at stake. It's not just about you or me; it's about a cause, a vision, a future we are trying to make for us, for the people who follow us an more. You want to blame someone? Look in the mirror. Maybe you'll realize how much I've done for you, how much I've sacrificed for you, for us."Akira could see the weight of their shared history in Nathan's eyes as he exhaled deeply, his chest heaving in an effort to still the rapid thud of his heart."This ain’t the old days Aki, as much as i want them to be sometimes," he began, his voice laced with a tired resolve."I know Nat, i know it isn’t so stop talking down to me!” Akira said as she looked away at the massive oil drill ship that hogged its horns passing by glittering with red lights.The north seas and its resources keeping her home afloat, even with the sewage and pollution that she could feel in the waves. Though nowhere near the level of what she had experienced at Blackpool beach when they went there in June.“Hey, do you remember 'Bloody Tam' in Edinburgh? The one with that godawful tattoo of a kilted skeleton?" A wry smile momentarily crossed her face at the memory, as did Nat’s when she turned to face him again. "Or how about 'Lanky Leo' from East End, the mobster who thought he could double-cross us with that counterfeit money scheme with all the fake shillings and notes?"Nathan nearly let himself have a chuckle at the memory of Leo in particular. "We had our fun, took risks and stood up to those who thought they were above us. But those days, facing off against Scottish gang lords and London's underworld — those were simpler times.""Now, the stakes are different with Singh and others having connections, power that means going against them will affect us a lot more. The world is evolving all the time, and if we don't adapt with it, we'll be left behind or worse." Nathan's gaze held Akira's, emphasizing the gravity of his words. Akira could surely feel the weight of their shared history return with it all being recounted. "We have to be smarter about our battles now. Know when to hit back and when not to."Akira's eyes welled up with tears, her earlier anger withered a bit with a mix of guilt and sorrow. She wanted to speak, to apologize, to explain, but words failed her. The air between them grew thick with tension, both their faces flushed with anger. Every word exchanged laced with venom, each sentence sharper than the last. Years of shared experiences, battles fought together, and intimate moments seemed to fade in the wake of the escalating argument.The cold night air did little to cool the heat of the argument unfolding between them. Akira's voice, charged with emotion, cut through the silence. "Why do you always act like I don't know what I'm doing? Like I'm some kid you have to look out for?"Akira's breaths came out in visible puffs, revealing just how charged the atmosphere was."You weren't there, Nathaniel," she continued, her voice quivering slightly. "You weren't there for all those moments when I had to fend for myself. When I had to make decisions, sometimes life-altering ones, without your guidance. And yet, I managed. I survived and have built on the project I started in Glasgow in summer and now its taken shape here in my home."She took a step closer, her finger jabbing towards him for emphasis."Every time you question my actions, every time you doubt me, it feels like you're negating all the battles I've fought with and for you, all the scars I bear."Nathan's gaze was icy as he retorted, his voice a low growl. "And why can't you see beyond your own pride? Why drag us into situations where I'm constantly having to clean up the mess?!"They stepped closer, their faces almost touching, breaths mixing in the cold air. Akira, her eyes flashing with hurt and anger, jabbed a finger at him."You never listen! It's always about what you think is right and that you know better than everyone else!"Nathan clenched his fists, struggling to keep his voice steady. "Every time you go off without thinking, I'm the one who's left to deal with the fallout because anything I seem to say to you goes through your nose and not your ears. Can't you see how draining and unfair that is?"The tension between them grew palpable. The memories of their younger days, of arguments that turned physical, hovered at the edge of their consciousness. "Maybe if you'd stand by me instead of always playing the diplomat or knee bender, we wouldn't be in this mess." Akira's voice quivered.She notice Nat taking a shaky breath, the reality of their closeness and the looming shadows of their old violent habits sinking in. As Aki flinched for a second when Nat raised his hands to his face, as if to ready his fist to oh goddess, until she stopped him by grabbing his wrists before he could swing them as he had done in the past. Breathing heavily as Aki saw him composing himself, he removed his wrists from Aki’s grip, turning to instead throw a big rock into the sea, splashing himself with the salty sea water on all of his trouser and cowboy boots he was wearing before turning back to face Aki."Aki, Is this what we want? To tear each other apart like a pair of damn eejits?"Akira's defiance wavered, her eyes glistened as the rage started to melt away. "I don't feckin' know,I just wish—"He cut her off, his voice cracking, "I wish it too. But here we are, arguing at each other on this beach, letting the past and our bloody tempers get the best of us like all our enemies want us to."She looked away, then back into his eyes. "I'm sorry, I never wanted us to get to this damn point."Nathan nodded slowly, the anger in his eyes replaced by a deep sadness. "Tha sinn feumach air dòigh a lorg chuck. We can't keep fucking doing this." Both of them, lost in each other's gaze, knew that beneath the anger lay a deep bond and love. The challenge was finding a way to navigate their fiery personalities without burning each other in the process.The salty tang of the ocean mingled with the bitter taste of remorse. For a few heartbeats, all that could be heard was the rhythmic dance of the waves against the shore. Akira's shoulders shook with suppressed sobs, her voice a broken whisper. "Tá brón orm, Nat. I shouldn't have said those damn things." she said.She could Nathan's eyes catching the moonlight's glimmer, that drew her into a gentle embrace. "I've made my fair share of mistakes too, and I am doing everything to make amends for you. We've both spoken words, done stuff we wish we hadn't." He sighed, resting his forehead against hers. "Ach tá mé sásta go ndeir muid ár gcuid mothúchán. It's better than leaving them unsaid."She nestled her head into the crook of his neck, letting out a shaky breath. "I bloody hate that we fight like this, especially now, when there's so much feckin' at stake. But I am glad we can still speak so honestly when we need to."He sighed, his fingers gently combing through her hair. "I know, mo ghra. But it's also a testament to how passionate we are—about each other, our beliefs, our mission. We just need to channel that damned passion productively.”Akira pulled back slightly, looking up at him, her teary eyes searching his. "Can we promise, right here, right now, to never let it get this shite again?"Nathan's lips quirked into a faint smile, even as a tear trailed down his cheek. "We can promise. But we also have to put in the work. Tha sinn feumach air dòigh a lorg. Understand each other, communicate, and most importantly, listen. These are parts and package of being in a relationship which you know all too well." She nodded fervently. "I want that for both of us. I don't want to lose what we have over bloody stubbornness or pride. The gods have tested us and are making it through."He held her gaze, the intensity of his emotions laid bare. "Neither do I, lets learn from this, use it to build on what we had already. Let's face the challenges ahead of us together as we have faced others in the past."Akira smiled through her tears, taking his hand in hers. "Aontaíte."The two letting the moment linger on for what seemed like a eternity as they continued to hold hands and rest their heads together."We need to focus on the immediate future," he suddenly began again, his voice measured. "Have you thought about what breaking the truce would signify for Kayci?"She hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. "Have you? If you choose this path, can you face Kayci and explain why i want the truce to end? Why my-our cause and slight is just?"He leaned in slightly, his eyes searching hers. "I believe in the steps I'm considering, Aki. But laying it all out before Kayci, it's not just about listing reasons or appealing to emotion." "I understand where you're coming from, but remember, I know Kayci is not one to take insubordination lightly. It's not just about us. Defying the truce means drawing the wrath of not just Kayci but our other siblings as well as you would say, but i do believe that she will see why I deserve justice." Akira, her voice soft but firm, replied."I am keeping in mind how Kayci acted swiftly after Deanna and Decan embarrassed our sect." Nathan paused, the significance of their actions hanging heavily between them. "They didn't just get themselves in trouble. I know that with a single misstep, Kayci will make certain we suffer a fate no different from theirs."Akira took a deep breath, her mind racing. She remembered the gruesome fate of Deanna and Decan. Their brazen defiance had led to a chilling demonstration of Kayci's power and resolve. Their public display was a grim reminder to all that defiance came with a steep price.Nathan sighed, the weight of this history pressing down on him. "The fallout from their actions nearly broke Paulie. The paranoia, the stress and everything else led him to lose his mind and now be… in that place. That meant we had to take on of his weakened state to expose his corruption and incompetence before he got us killed.” “That move was calculated and planned. If we defy Kayci now, without a proper strategy, we risk every-."Akira held up a hand, cutting off Nathan's words. "I get it, Nathan. I do. The gravity of the situation isn't lost on me." Her voice trembled with a mixture of anger and frustration. But you have to understand, he shattered my trust, violated my very being. There has to be a reckoning for what Singh did. And when that time comes, you better be by my side, not standing in my way."Nathan looked deep into her eyes, sensing the storm of emotions brewing within her. He took a moment to choose his words carefully. "There's a bigger picture here. The Indian rebellion is paramount right now, especially with our sister Ghashmira so deeply involved and one of our allies. The Order needs it to succeed, we need it for our plan for China and Japan."Her gaze never wavered as she shot back. "I understand strategy, but what about justice? What about my right to seek retribution?"Drawing a deep breath, Nathan nodded, conceding to her point. "Look, once the Indian rebellion is settled, and we've cemented our position in Japan—especially with the access to Sumeragi Natsumi—we can revisit this." Nathan continued."Until then, we need to be smart, play our cards right and maintain the ties we have, especially with our command ship nearing completion that the Indians are funding and building with our EU contractors. I promise, I won't stand in your way when the time is right just trust me on this."Akira stared at him for a long moment. Finally, she nodded, the fire in her eyes dimming slightly but never extinguishing. "Alright, Nathan. I'll trust you. But remember your promise."“I keep my promises Aki, I don’t break my word as I have proven time and time again over the years.”The tension between them was palpable, but Akira, always one to change gears swiftly, took a deep breath and shifted the topic. Taking Nat’s hands into her own."Nathan," she began, her voice soft but firm. "There's something else we need to discuss."The sudden shift caught Nathan off-guard, and he eyed her curiously. "What's on your mind?""Our relationship," she said, meeting his gaze head-on. "Previously we have talked about... opening it up. Are we really going through with it?"His expression shifted from one of contemplation to sheer disbelief. "Now, Aki? With all that's happening and been chatting about, you wish to dive into that topic now?" There was an underlying tone of exasperation, yet she could also discern the hint of warmth and concern that always resided there when it came to matters of their heart.Undeterred, she took a step closer, the urgency evident in her voice. "Yes. In the middle of this chaos, this is real, this is us. I need to know where we stand." Akira said. Nat’s posture hesitating as they tapped their foot in the sand."We've weathered so many storms together. And while I'm not entirely against exploring new horizons in our relationship, we need to acknowledge that we have a lot to address first. Inviting someone else into this, it could just add more complexities."Her heart ached as the words left his mouth. While she understood his concerns, the desire for more, for something different, gnawed at her. "I understand that. But life doesn't wait. I want to savour every moment of it. With you, and potentially with others."His expression became even more earnest."But consider our position, our roles, our responsibilities, the world we are enmeshed in. Introducing another person into this would endanger them, expose them to the myriad risks we face daily. Can you bear the weight of that and something happening to them?"Akira's gaze became intense, her eyes revealing a mix of mischief and determination. "You can't hide your feelings from me. Not after all we've been through. I've seen how your eyes linger on those magazine photos of Haru. And let's be honest, those sources you've been so keenly reviewing?" She smirked, arching an eyebrow."It's not just the articles you're interested in."She stepped closer, her voice dripping with seduction. "Don't even pretend, darling. The idea of having Haru, both of us, together with him. It's tempting, isn't it?" She circled him, her fingers grazing his arm. "Just think about it. The three of us, lost in passion, exploring each other's desires. I want him too, Nathan. To feel him, to taste him. And I can tell you crave the same."Akira noticed how Nathan swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry and this teeth biting his lip intensely. She felt herself relish in the moment as a pleasant wave of euphoria danced over her head, as if she could physically feel her brain sending out the signals of satisfaction. The image she painted was tantalizing, but he was ever the pragmatist. "As much as the idea, intrigues me," Nat admitted as Aki noticed his cheeks slightly flushed and his hand rubbing his neck. "We must remember Haru is his own person. We don't know if he even swings that way or would even like us."Akira tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful grin. "From the little whispers I've heard from my sources in Japan, our dear Haru might just be open to the idea. And about Sumeragi Natsumi," She said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "From what we've gathered, she seems the adventurous type and is very interested in taming a snake like the wolf she is."Nathan sighed, "Even if all this is true, Aki, we can't just dive headfirst without considering their feelings, their boundaries."“There are just some new things, I want to taste for myself. Like…” She pouted slightly,"A woman, another man, a fellow trans sibing or possibly anybody else that tickles us, it sounds enticing, doesn't it? I need this, Nathaniel. After everything, I deserve a bit of happiness, of satisfaction. And you owe me this. It's part of making amends.""I do owe you. But if we're going down this path, it has to be done right. With respect, patience, and mutual understanding. Our relationship, their feelings. These things are delicate. We can't just charge ahead without thought when our relationship still needs loads of work." Nathan replied softly.Meeting her gaze as his demeanour became softer.Akira paused, taking a deep breath as her thoughts drifted to a more personal longing."Beyond all the schemes, the politics and so on, I want something more intimate, more permanent," she began, her voice softening, filled with raw emotion.Nathan looked at her, a little puzzled, his brow furrowing in gentle confusion."I've been dreaming of it for a while now," Akira continued, her eyes misty with the imagery she painted. "A home, nestled in the picturesque highlands of Scotland. A safe haven where the air is crisp, where the lakes reflect the vastness of the sky, and where time seems to slow down. A place where we—along with those we hold dear—can escape from the burdens of our duties, from the never-ending cycle of missions and responsibilities."She turned to face him, her eyes searching his, seeking some form of validation or acknowledgement. "I want a place where love isn't restricted by labels or duties. Where you and I, and anyone we choose to bring into our lives, can find solace and peace."Akira knew that she had gotten him by the fact he restrained himself to silence, as it showed how her words finally washed over him. She examined his expression as he failed to hide the surge of warmth, an unexpected rush of feelings that he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge.Suddenly, with a resolve that seemed to surprise even her, Akira dropped to one knee on the cool, soft sand beneath them. There was a spark of joy inside of her, at the sight of Nathan's eyes widened in surprise as she presented the box she had been carrying with her all evening. "Akira?" he whispered, voice filled with shock and wonder.She held her gaze steady, determination burning in her eyes. “I've been working tirelessly behind the scenes, pushing for legislation in the Scottish Parliament since i know the English one won’t consider it. Soon, gay and trans marriages will be recognized and celebrated. So," She took a deep breath, her voice slightly shaky but filled with love and conviction. "Will you, once it's all official, marry me? Will you be with me, in our Scottish haven, bound not just by duty but by law and love?"Akira watched as Nathan's gaze dropped, his defences clearly waning. It was a side of him she seldom saw: pure, raw vulnerability. His deep breath wavered, every ounce of his insecurity and self-doubt seemed to rise to the surface."You know," he began, his voice barely more than a whisper."Every time I've faced danger, every wound, every scar, I've always told myself it's what I deserve. That I'm... broken. That there's something inherently wrong with me." His fingers clenched involuntarily, and she could sense the storm of emotions raging within him.A memory surged in Akira's mind, a night when she had bared her heart to him, and his reaction had been one of disbelief and confusion. "When you told me how you felt, I couldn't understand," Nathan confessed. "I couldn't fathom why someone like you would want someone like me. Why you'd choose a broken man, damaged by his past, cursed with a condition that everyone took issue to, and so unsure of his worth or of being loved."Her heart ached, hearing the pain in his voice. She took a step closer, instinctively wanting to comfort him. "Nat," she murmured, her own voice thick with emotion, "I see you. Not the masks you wear, not the walls you've built. But you. And every day, I choose you, not in spite of your flaws, but because of them."His eyes, normally so guarded, shimmered with unshed tears. "Aki, I'm trying. I want to be better, for you, for us. But these walls, they're all I've known. Breaking them down, it's terrifying."She reached out, cupping his face gently, feeling the dampness of his skin. "I know," she whispered back. "But you're not alone. We'll face this together. Just like we always have.""I'll marry you," he continued, the gravity of his decision evident in his voice, "but we need to be partners in every sense of the word. It's not just about being there for the good times, but also sharing the burdens, the responsibilities. If we're going to build a life together, I need you by my side, equally invested in everything we do."She swallowed hard, her heart racing. "I promise, Nathan. I promise."Nathan's face softened, a smile playing on his lips. "And about the house, I've never cared for opulence or grandeur. We've lived in the shadows for so long, blending in, staying discreet. I don't need a mansion. All I ask for is something that feels like home, that's sensible and comfortable. No need for extravagant displays."Akira laughed softly, a touch of relief in her voice. "Trust you to bring practicality into a romantic moment. But I get it. We'll find something that's just right for us."He pulled her into an embrace, the two of them taking solace in each other's presence, their future unfolding before them with a promise of love, challenges, and shared dreams.Akira felt the cool night air envelop her as she stood side by side with Nathan, the rhythmic lapping of the waves creating a soothing backdrop to their exchange. As she glanced over, she could see the weight of their responsibilities reflected in Nathan's eyes, even as he stared out at the vast ocean before them."We've got a packed schedule," Nathan began, the professional tone in his voice breaking her reverie. "Our rendezvous with Kayci is in just a few days."She nodded, her mind already going over the preparations she had made."I've been gearing up for it."Nathan hesitated momentarily, as if debating whether to continue. "There's more Aki. After Kayci, we've been approached for another key meeting.""Who?" She enquired."Hui and her team. They're eager to discuss matters with us and with Oboro who I made direct contact while in India.""Hui? Really? Everything is moving faster than I suspected.” "The specifics are coming together. But it seems they're heavily invested in preparing for the likely fallout of her parents stepping down next year.”"Beyond that, I would also love to have you accompany me to my next trip to India."She felt a mix of emotions: uncertainty, intrigue, and a hint of reluctance. "India, It feels too soon to go back. But if you believe it's crucial, then there must be merit to it."Nathan's eyes held a sincere plea. "This is also an opportunity, Aki. Meeting the hijra, understanding their plight, and grasping why they champion India's cause so fiercely might offer a fresh perspective. And for you to broaden your connections as you want to."“As is when you go onto Japan once we are done in India.” Nathan said, catching Akira by surprise.“Japan?” Aki tined her head at Nat.“Yes, Japan, as I need to attend to matters here like my investments in Newcastle now Osei wants a picture of the action since i have been away the last few months. And to set everything up with the EU on our operation for Asia. I also need to head to Britannia to meet with Michelle on a certain matter that ties into our plans for Japan.”“And what will I be doing in Japan?” Akira asked Nathan.Raising an eyebrow as she wondered why she was to head to Japan without him when they had just reunited.“Well getting everything ready, setting up our bases of operations. Introduce yourself Sumeragi Natsumi in person, Haru as well and assess them, along with making contact with local groups and people amendable to us and our sect.” “I will explain more in India, but consider this Aki, me trusting you with taking the lead on what is our biggest project ever as you have been asking for.”Akira saw her love becoming more serious as he gazed at her.“This whole situation in China and Japan will determine our future, we can either cement our legacy, reputation and secure ourselves for life, or we can collapse into ruin and be confined to history as Dimitri and his whole sect in Russia."Aki felt the warm hands of her love grasping both cheeks softly.“I need you gráto become the person you have always meant to be, not when W gets back, not tomorrow, now!” Nat said as the strokes of her his hands smoothed Aki’s fingers.Little smudges of her powder rubbing off his hands as he removed them from her cheeks.Akira taking everything he had said into her head.She pondered over his words, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. With resolve, she finally agreed, "Okay, Nathan. I'll accompany you and then go to Japan. But remember, this is for our cause, for the mission, and for the people who depend on us and i trust you to trust me to sort everything out my way with Natsumi and Haru and everything else there."A hint of a smile appeared on Nathan's face, bringing a fleeting moment of warmth. "That's all I ever ask."The world beyond them blurred into insignificance as Akira found herself irresistibly drawn towards Nathan. Their lips met, and within that fleeting contact, a torrent of emotions surged — strength, love, affirmation. With the ocean stretching endlessly ahead and the boundless sky above, she felt as though they were the sole inhabitants of this vast world, anchored by their shared bond. The waves seemed to roar in harmony with her racing heart, while the gentle breeze appeared to echo her whispered thoughts.Feeling Nathan's thumb caress her cheek, she gazed into his eyes, seeking the depths of his soul. "Every trial, every challenge has only made us stronger, more resilient," he murmured, his gaze intense.She nodded, her own emotions swirling within. "We've weathered the fiercest storms, scaled insurmountable heights, and plunged into profound depths. As long as we're together, I believe there's nothing we can't overcome."His lips quirked into a familiar smirk, that glint of mischief she adored so much shining in his eyes. "Our bond has been forged in fire and tested in tempests. With you, Aki, I feel as if we can conquer any adversity."A soft laugh escaped her as she pressed her forehead to his, their breaths mingling. "Then let's march into our future with heads held high and hearts full of hope. Because together, we truly are a force to be reckoned with."With that shared sentiment echoing between them, she wrapped her arm around his waist, drawing strength from his presence as they made their way back to their lodging. ____________The whispering silence of the temple corridor enveloped Akira as she walked, her heels clicking against the ancient stone floor with a rhythmic precision. Her outfit, a tastefully tailored ensemble of rich silks and intricate embroidery, flowed elegantly around her. Every piece she wore was a testament to her keen sense of fashion—a vibrant display of colours and patterns that drew the eye.The luxurious fabric swished with every step, catching the soft glows of the temple's luminescence, making her stand out even in this place of profound history. Her statement necklace, adorned with jewels that glinted in the dim light, was a reflection of her prosperity and her penchant for indulging in life's finer things.Yet, even amidst this personal showcase, Akira was acutely aware of the weight of history around her. The soft mutterings of distant voices floated on the cool underground air, every word spoken with a deep reverence that was almost palpable. It was a stark contrast to the bustling life above in the city of London. Down here, in this hidden sanctum, time seemed suspended, and history was alive in every stone and every shadow.Akira's eyes were drawn to the intricate symbols that decorated the temple walls, their soft blue glow creating an almost otherworldly ambiance. These markings, echoing the mysterious tree from an ancient legacy, seemed to be embedded deep within the temple's foundations, pulsating as if echoing an ancient rhythm. Every now and then, a shimmer would ripple through, reminiscent of a living heartbeat. To Akira, it felt as though the temple itself had a life, its core tied to an ancient power she and Nathan were oddly familiar with.Nathan, walking by her side, seemed lost in his thoughts. Yet Akira could sense his alertness, his gaze occasionally drifting to analyse one symbol or another, perhaps trying to decipher some deeper meaning or history they held.As they continued on, the pathway opened to reveal the entrance of the gateway towards the thing that was the biggest sanctity of their order. There was an undeniable aura of grandeur that emanated from it. Monumental doors, crafted from a material unfamiliar to Akira, towered before them. The surfaces of these doors were adorned with intricate carvings and runes, each telling a story older and more enigmatic than any she had encountered. While she couldn't place its origin, the door felt like a sentinel of history, guarding secrets and memories from time immemorial. It had a unique aura,Yet, what truly captured Akira's soul wasn't just the grandeur of the door but the profound aura of the temple itself. Beneath the modern world, in this sanctum of ancient power, resided Kayci, the undying priestess. Legends spoke of her agelessness, of how she'd made this temple her abode for countless centuries, standing as both guardian and guide to the teachings of the Celtic sect.The deeper they ventured, the more Akira felt the weight of the ages pressing down upon her. The temple wasn't merely a structure of stone and magic but a living testament to the timelessness of their order, and to the eternal watchfulness of Kayci.Images of Brigid, the goddess of fire, poetry, and healing, along with Lugh, the master of crafts, were intricately etched into the stone walls, their eyes seeming to follow her every movement, watching, judging, weighing her worthiness.As Akira and Nathan stepped into the main chamber, the vastness of the room took their breath away. High ceilings seemed to stretch endlessly, adorned with intricately woven tapestries that depicted ancient Celtic lore. The chamber's floor was made of polished stone flooring, which reflected the shimmering blue symbols, making it seem as though they were walking amidst a sea of glowing constellations.In the heart of this expanse stood Kayci. A vision of ethereal beauty, she was the very embodiment of ancient power and grace. Her golden locks cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall of liquid sun, contrasting with the deep green of her eyes, which held the mysteries of millennia. She was draped in a resplendent gown. Its design was a tapestry of deep blues, soft reds and vibrant golds, adorned with patterns and symbols of her heritage. The gown was belted at the waist with a finely wrought golden ornamentation, and from her shoulders hung a heavy cloak, lined with fur and fastened with a brooch in the shape of the celtic knot. Her presence was both majestic and commanding, demanding reverence and awe.Flanking her were her chosen priests, all women of varying ages, their attire reflecting their dedication to the Celtic order. Their dresses were simpler than Kayci's but no less elegant, each tailored to symbolize their personal journey within the sect. They stood in solemn silence, their gazes fixed on the newcomers, assessing and evaluating.Akira felt the weight of their scrutiny but refused to let it intimidate her. She stepped forward, and in fluent Celtic Gaelic, greeted Kayci, "Kayci a ghrá, is mór an onóir é bheith anseo."Kayci's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and respect. "Daughter Akira, Son Nathaniel," she responded, her voice melodic yet commanding, “You are most welcome. I've been expecting your visit.”Nathan, ever the diplomat, bowed slightly, his voice steady as he replied,”It's an honor to be in your company, Kayci. We hope our meeting will be fruitful.”The initial formalities set the tone, but both Akira and Nathan knew that beneath the courtesies lay the potential for both collaboration and conflict. Akira could feel the undercurrent of tension as she and Nathan stood before the ethereal presence of Kayci, the priestess who was as enigmatic as the temple she ruled. "Well, then," Kayci began, her voice weaving around them, reminiscent of ancient songs sung under moonlit nights. It held a timeless quality, as if the very essence of the Celtic woods whispered through her words. "You have come during pivotal days."Nathan's stance was one of deference, but the underlying strain between him and Kayci was undeniable Akira knew. "With all due respect, Priestess," he began, choosing each word with caution, "We had hoped for your guidance during the meeting. Akira had specifically reached out, believing your perspective would be invaluable."Kayci's usually serene face momentarily betrayed her displeasure. Her eyes, deep pools of wisdom, hardened slightly. "This temple, its heritage, and the duties it bequeaths upon me are of utmost importance," she replied, emphasizing her role and responsibilities. "However, I had every confidence in your abilities to navigate the situation."As Akira observed the exchange between Nathan and Kayci, she could feel the air grow heavy with the unsaid and the underlying politics of their delicate relationship. The history shared between them was complex, like the intricate patterns etched on the temple walls, and it was clear that any misstep could be consequential. Akira sensed the conversation teetering on the brink of confrontation. Eager to diffuse the mounting pressure and shift the focus, she stepped in, her voice carrying the weight of her recent decisions. "Fear-comhairle, we managed to reach an agreement with the Indians," she began, her voice firm yet diplomatic. Beneath the surface, the smoldering embers of her resolve for retribution remained, hidden from view but still burning brightly. "We hope it aligns with the interests and vision of the temple."Beneath her calm facade, Akira's emotions churned. The memories of the affronts she'd suffered were fresh, and the desire for vengeance was a fire that refused to be extinguished. However, she recognized the importance of presenting a united front, especially in this hallowed space."Our primary objective is to ensure the temple's interests and its age-old vision are upheld. I believe our recent actions resonate with that aim." She carefully chose her words, hoping to communicate her dedication to the cause while also subtly hinting at the personal motivations driving her decisions.Akira, intuitive as always, could sense the piercing scrutiny behind Kayci's gaze. She could feel Kayci's skepticism, a tangible entity that threatened to undermine their precarious understanding.Kayci leaned in slightly, her voice dripping with a mix of concern and suspicion. "Akira," she began, every word measured and deliberate, "You know as well as I do the weight of the promises we make, the significance of truces in our world. I cannot help but sense, a lingering desire for revenge. Are there any hidden agendas I should know about?"Akira met Kayci's probing gaze with unwavering determination. She took a deep breath, reminding herself of the importance of the greater mission, the legacy of the temple and its role in the larger scheme of things. "I understand the concerns," she began, her voice even but laden with emotion. "But you have my word, the mission's interests have always been, and will always be, my top priority. Personal vendettas will not cloud my judgement." She had to put on her best acting face and she believed she had succeeded in this.There was a pause, the silence speaking louder than words, as Kayci continued to search Akira's eyes for any hint of deceit. The two women, each powerful in her own right, were locked in a silent battle of wills.As Kayci let out the weary exhale, her stern, authoritative demeanour softened momentarily, revealing a glimmer of the ancient wisdom and weariness she carried. The vast chamber seemed to absorb her sigh, echoing its sentiment back in silent resonance. "So, then," her voice flowed like a gentle stream."I've seen many come and go, promises made and broken. It's never a matter of just wanting to believe, it's about the very fabric of our existence." Her gaze intensified, holding Akira captive. "This world of ours, it thrives on a delicate balance of trust. It's the bedrock upon which everything stands. If the truce is shattered, the aftershocks won't be limited to just you or Nathan. The very foundation we've fought for, bled for, will crumble."Akira, with every fiber of her being attuned to Kayci's words, could feel their weight pressing upon her chest. Her usual fiery spirit tempered by the gravity of the moment, she lifted her chin, meeting Kayci's ancient eyes with a resolve born from conviction. "I've always been aware of the responsibilities that come with our roles," she began, each word chosen with care. "And I promise you, I won't be the one to let everything we've built falter."There was an earnestness in Akira's reply, a raw vulnerability that belied the fierce warrior she often portrayed. It was as if, in that moment, she was baring her very soul, seeking not just Kayci's trust but her understanding.A subtle shift in Kayci's posture, a slight loosening of her shoulders, hinted at a momentary respite from the weight of suspicion. The room, which had felt so cold and oppressive, seemed to breathe a little easier. Just as Akira was preparing to continue, Nathan stepped forward, his voice firm yet respectful."We've taken every necessary step with the Indians Kayci," he began, lending his own support to Akira's claims. "Our interactions have been above board and for the benefit of everyone involved."Kayci's gaze, once again frosty, darted towards Nathan. "I do not recall asking for your assurance, son Nathan," she replied icily. "My faith was with both of you. My responsibilities here, in the Temple, mean that I must place trust in my subordinates. I had every confidence that you two could handle the task at hand." She paused, letting her words hang heavily in the air. "And from what I gather, you did. So why belabor the point?"But Nathan, who Akira knew had wished to protect and advocate for his and Akira's shared mission, wasn't ready to back down. His stance squared, and there was a hint of challenge in his eyes as he responded. "With all due respect, Kayci, you may have faith in us, but you also know the importance of the alliances we maintain. The other sects look for any chink in our armor, any sign of weakness. It's no secret that they'd seize any opportunity to diminish us, and in many ways, it's through our efforts that they're kept at bay."Akira, sensing another potential clash, quickly interjected, placing a placating hand on Nathan's arm. "We understand your position, Kayci," she said softly, trying to defuse the situation. "And we appreciate your trust. Nathan's only highlighting our collective efforts to ensure the security and prosperity of our order."With a deep breath, Kayci considered them both. While the tension hadn't entirely dissipated, the understanding between them had deepened.Akira could feel the shift in the room's energy, a palpable intensity as Kayci broached their next mission. "Is everything in place for Asia?" Kayci inquired, her eyes sharp and probing."Yes," Nathan promptly affirmed, sharing a quick glance with Akira. "Our preparations are on track, and we're set to head out as planned."Kayci nodded, her fingers drumming thoughtfully on the table's surface. "Good. Asia, especially Japan, is of paramount importance to us now. There are artifacts of great significance there," she said, her gaze fixated on Nathan."Including a book you've been particularly keen on retrieving for quite some time."Akira listened intently, acutely aware of the gravity of their task ahead. "We understand the stakes, Kayci. We won't disappoint you," she chimed in, her voice laced with determination.Kayci's gaze then rested on Akira, a rare hint of warmth seeping into her eyes. "Akira, I want to entrust you with a significant role. You've proven yourself time and time again, and I believe you're ready for the next step," Kayci began, the weight of her words not lost on the younger woman. "I've chosen you to be one of our Great Divine’s next true heirs. With this honour comes responsibility. You will take under your wing an apprentice from the order, someone to guide and mentor, just as Nathan has with great esteem and to his own prestige."Akira, caught slightly off-guard, felt her heart rate accelerate, her mind racing to process the magnitude of Kayci's proclamation. Kayci's voice resonated through the vast hall, reaching every corner, making sure every ear heard her words. "The lineage of our bloodline is one of immense power, influence, and most importantly, responsibility. Our order has seen many come and go, but only a select few are deemed worthy of such a title."Silence descended, a collective breath held by the assembly, awaiting Akira's response. She felt Nathan's gaze on her, but she couldn't discern his emotions from the brief glance they shared."And Akira," Kayci continued, her eyes never wavering from the younger woman's face, "You've displayed unparalleled dedication, skill, and loyalty. From the frontlines of political conflict to the intricate dealings behind closed doors, your actions have made a resounding impact."As Kayci's declaration settled, Nathan spoke up. His voice, though low, carried an underlying current of pride. "Akira has always been exceptional," he said simply, leaving no room for doubt.Akira, her throat tight with emotion, managed to respond."I'm honored, Kayci. And I promise to uphold the responsibilities and traditions of our order."The room's ambient hum slowly quieted down as Kayci's attention shifted from Akira. With a flourish of her hand, she gestured to a shadowy alcove on the side of the chamber. From it, a figure stepped forth, drawing several gasps from the assembly.The new arrival was an enigma, cloaked in the pristine white uniform of the order, her face obscured by a white mask. The design of the mask was intricate, adorned with spirals and knots reminiscent of ancient Celtic art. One would not have been able to determine their gender at first very easily, but Akira could not help but notice the womanly hips and the measured elegance of each step. Her stance was confident, yet reserved, as if she was both proud and humbled by her new role. The twin blades she wore by her side whispered promises of skill and finesse, glinting softly in the dim light.Yet it was her eyes that drew Akira in the most. They were a deep shade of blue, so striking that they almost seemed unnatural. These eyes, combined with the fair hair cascading down her back, presented the image of a classic beauty. But Akira could sense there was more than met the eye, the contact lenses and the hair almost certainly a disguise. Who was this woman, and why was her true identity hidden?Kayci, noting the reactions of her audience, began her introduction."I am pleased to introduce Aislinn," she announced, her voice tinged with pride. "She has been under my guidance for years, proving herself time and time again in trials most would balk at. I believe her to be the perfect candidate to train under Nathan."Aislinn, or the woman behind the disguise, dipped her head slightly, acknowledging Kayci's words. When she spoke, her voice was melodic, carrying an edge of steel. "I am honored by the faith placed in me," she began."And I vow to serve the order and learn under AntUasal Andre with utmost dedication.""I look forward to working with you and showing you the vastness of our work and of the world we live in," Nathan stated, his voice neutral but firm. "Welcome, Aislinn."The energy in the room had not yet settled from Aislinn's introduction when Kayci turned her attention to the other side of the chamber. With a graceful sweep of her hand, another figure emerged from the shadows. Unlike Aislinn's stark white uniform, this individual wore muted tones of forest greens and midnight blues, blending seamlessly with the dim ambiance of the temple.The figure was strikingly androgynous, with long, golden hair that cascaded in waves down to their mid-back, reminiscent of an elegant horse’s mane. Their facial features were delicate, almost elfin, with high cheekbones, a slender nose, and a hint of a mischievous smile playing on their lips. They wore robes adorned with intricate Celtic knotwork, and on their fingers, they sported rings embedded with shimmering gems that caught the temple lights.The entire assembly seemed captivated by this enigmatic figure, and Akira herself couldn't help but be intrigued. She had been unaware of whom her apprentice would be and was pleasantly surprised by the choice.With a voice dripping with pride, Kayci introduced the newcomer. "Esteemed members, allow me to introduce you to Niamh," she announced, her voice echoing in the silent chamber. "A prodigy in their own right and someone I believe to be the perfect match for Akira's guidance."Niamh stepped forward, their movements fluid, their demeanor calm and self-assured yet approachable. They gave a nod of acknowledgement to Akira, and when they spoke, their voice was a gentle baritone, carrying an air of wisdom beyond their years. "I am grateful for this opportunity and look forward to learning and serving under Akira's tutelage," they said, their gaze unwavering.Akira nodded in acknowledgement, feeling a growing respect for the individual chosen to be her apprentice. "I expect we'll achieve great things together, Niamh."As the ambient sounds of the chamber gradually settled, Kayci's gaze swept over the assembled priests and members. The grandeur of her aura was palpable, an unspoken command emanating from her very being."Everyone," she began, her voice calm yet resonating with authority, "You may leave us now."The room tensed. It was customary for Kayci to hold post-ceremonial discussions with her trusted aides, but to exclude everyone, even the newly introduced apprentices, was unprecedented.Murmurs of curiosity rippled through the crowd, though they were hushed and subdued. Aislinn and Niamh, despite being the center of attention just moments ago, retreated discreetly, their expressions inscrutable, though Niamh's eyes betrayed a hint of curiosity. The remaining priests exchanged puzzled glances but didn’t voice their thoughts. In the presence of Kayci, it was often wiser to observe in silence than to question aloud.The heavy, ornate doors of the chamber began to close, their slow, deliberate movement mirroring the exit of the last of the temple's occupants. The echo of footsteps faded, replaced by an almost suffocating stillness. The vast expanse of the room, which moments ago had been filled with murmurs and subtle movements, now felt stark and isolating.Akira, ever observant, noticed the marked shift in Kayci's demeanor. The ageless priestess, who always carried herself with a regal poise, now bore a more serious, contemplative expression.Nathan shifted slightly, sensing the impending gravity of their conversation. With only the three of them present, surrounded by the eternal walls of the temple and shrouded in the room's dim glow, a new chapter was about to unfold — one that promised revelations, challenges, and perhaps even conflicts. Akira steeled herself for whatever lay ahead, her heart echoing the rhythm of uncertainty and determination.The intensity that once gripped the room shifted as Kayci's posture relaxed. Moving with a grace, she glided over to a corner of the room, where a beautifully crafted wooden table stood. Atop the table lay an assortment of old-fashioned glass bottles, stoppered and sealed with wax, and an array of herbs and spices.Akira's eyes followed Kayci, observing her every move. The usually stoic leader of their sect was displaying a side rarely seen: a more personable, almost nostalgic demeanor. It was disarming, given the setting and the weight of their earlier interactions.Nathan noticed Kayci reaching for one of the bottles filled with a deep amber liquid. "Kayci," he began with a respectful tone, "I appreciate the gesture, but I must decline.”Kayci paused for a moment, holding the bottle up to the dim light, the liquid inside shimmering mysteriously. "It's not just any drink," she replied softly, her voice holding a hint of sentimentality."It's a traditional Celtic beverage, passed down through generations. Its origins trace back to our ancient forebears, who believed it to be a drink of the gods, capable of connecting one to the very spirit of the land."Akira, despite her initial reservations, found herself intrigued. The ritualistic nature of Kayci's actions, the care she took in measuring out herbs, pouring the liquid, and gently stirring, all hinted at the importance of the drink. "What is it called?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.Kayci smiled faintly. "It's known as 'Uisge Beatha', which translates to 'Water of Life'. It's more commonly known today as whiskey. But this," she held up the bottle."is a rare blend, infused with herbs that our ancestors believed held spiritual properties."She poured a measure into a carved wooden cup and extended it to Akira. "It's said to soothe the soul, bring clarity to the mind, and, on occasion, open doors to ancient memories."Akira hesitated for a moment, the weight of Kayci's words and the history of the drink pressing upon her. But seeing the genuine effort Kayci was putting into this gesture, she decided to accept, taking the cup gently. "Thank you," she murmured, taking a tentative sip. The flavors were rich, deep, and complex, immediately warming her from within.The amber glow of the drink contrasted sharply with the cool, ethereal ambiance of the temple chamber. Kayci tilted the bottle slightly, the liquid catching the soft light, creating mesmerizing reflections. "Nathan," she began again, her voice smooth, almost coaxing, "Are you certain you wouldn't want to partake? Just a sip, to honor our shared history?"Nathan's eyes, usually so guarded, met Kayci's directly. "As I've said, Priestess," he began patiently, "No thanks."A playful smirk played at the corners of Kayci's lips. "You know, it's not a sacred rite or ritual to drink this. I'm merely enjoying the rare pleasure of your company and trying to offer something from our shared heritage."Nathan's gaze softened. While Akira knew he often found himself at odds with Kayci, especially when it came to matters of the sect, he couldn't deny the ancient bond they shared, rooted in tradition and the complex tapestry of their Celtic lineage. "I respect and value the history behind it," he conceded, his tone warm, "I'm well aware of the significance. Accept your offer and apologies for any slight offence i may have committed.”Kayci, sensing the sincerity in his voice, gave a gentle nod. "Fair enough," she murmured, taking another sip from her cup, savoring the richness of the flavors.And then passing the cup to Nat, who took it, drank enough to fill his out and swallowed it whole in one go. Coughing a fair bit afterwards, that made Akira pat his back in support. Knowing how much this was affecting him.Amidst the simple exchanges and unspoken histories, Akira's discerning eyes caught on to something else altogether: the underlying power play. It wasn't about the drink at all. It was a game, a dance of dominance, trust, and loyalty.With every nuanced gesture and word, Kayci was probing, testing the waters of their allegiance and the boundaries of their individual principles. Akira was no stranger to such strategies; she'd used them herself in the high-stakes world of political and personal maneuvers. As she replayed the scene in her mind, she realized that Kayci had likely anticipated Nathan's refusal. She had presented the drink not to genuinely offer a shared cultural experience, but to see if he would compromise his personal beliefs, his very identity, for the sake of appeasing her. And in standing his ground and then accepting the branch offed, Nathan had, perhaps unwittingly, reaffirmed his integrity in Kayci's eyes.Akira took a deep breath, feeling the drink's warmth spread through her. She hadn't voiced her thoughts or reservations before accepting, having decided to trust Kayci in this instance. In doing so, she too had passed Kayci's test. By not overthinking or seeking assurances, Akira demonstrated her faith in Kayci's intentions and her own unwavering stance within their dynamics.It was a silent game of chess, and every move counted. Kayci's subtle tactics weren't lost on Akira. She realized they were continuously being evaluated, their actions and decisions scrutinized to determine their places in this intricate hierarchy.But Akira also knew this: she and Nathan had proven themselves once more.Kayci, her eyes piercing yet unreadable, fixed her gaze upon the duo. The weight of her stare pressing upon them like a tangible force, signaling that what she was about to address was of the utmost importance."Your successes and strategies have been commendable so far," Kayci began, her voice steady. "But you both are on the precipice of something far greater, far more intricate than anything you've faced before." She paused, letting her words sink in, allowing the gravity of her statement to wrap around them."The mission in Asia isn't just another task, another challenge," she continued, leaning forward. "It's tied to the very roots, the foundational pillars of the powers that be." Her utterance of the name seemed to reverberate within the chamber, emphasizing its importance.Nathan gave a slight nod, acknowledging the weight of Kayci's words. But Akira sensed a flicker of unease in his demeanor. The implications of what was expected of them weren't lost on either party.Kayci brought her hands together, her fingers intertwined. "This mission will test you both, not just in terms of your abilities, but your loyalties, your judgments, and your very convictions. It will demand more from you than you might anticipate. But I trust," she said, her eyes locked onto theirs, "That you understand the magnitude and will act accordingly."Nathan cleared his throat, breaking the weighty pause. "Priestess, you have entrusted us with this task, and we fully understand its importance, whatever it may be. You have our word; we won't let you down."Kayci smiled, but it was a smile tinged with melancholy. "I have watched both of you grow, evolve, and rise to every challenge thrown your way. From the streets of London to the treacherous political landscapes abroad, you've proved time and again that you are worthy. I wouldn't have chosen you for this task if I had any doubts about your capabilities or dedication."Inside of Akira’s chest, there is a flutter of emotions, a strange marriage of both surprise, dread and dissonant excitement.Akira stood there for a moment, absorbing the weight of it all. The walls around them, bathed in the blue hue of the ancient symbols, seemed to reverberate with the history of those who had come before them, their sacrifices, their triumphs, and their failures.Next to her, Nathan took a deep breath. His usual composed demeanor was tinged with a rare vulnerability. Kayci, observing them from her position, gave a slight, approving nod. Her faith in them was evident. "The path you tread will be challenging," she intoned, her voice echoing with a gravitas that silenced the chamber. “But remember, the brightest flames are born from the greatest challenges. You two are the vanguard of our order, and I believe in you."She stepped back, her figure about to merge with the ambient glow of the chamber. The heavy doors of the chamber began to close. Akira watched as Kayci, turned one last time before stepping way, to give the order. “I am trusting you both to deal with the Sumeragi Legacy."And with that, she walked as the doors closed behind her, sealing her away from the world once again and the pair alone in the temple.
Circle in the Sand Part One- CG:LD One-Shot, Hi Everyone, Here is the first part of the latest and last one shot for Code Geass: Liar's Dice as me and Makarov move onto starting the main series itself. Which rounds off the final prequel chapters on Akira and Nathan that grew from a simple one shot of showing the two's day and night out in summer of 94, to a novella that in many ways sets up their arc and gives hints of their background, relationship and more that has been a real joy to set up and work with @RingoPerkov, @ResonantCrimson and Makarov in writing about them, along with the one shot that was Melancholy Dynasty.Along with Let's Dance Part one Sweets for my Sweet Let's Dance Part Two Sugar For My Honey and Dark Shine.Part Two of this chapter is available to read here.Thanks very much as always for following my work and I hope you enjoy the chapterKind Regards,,, I will release the second half in a few days. In the dimly lit cavern of "Inclusion," a sanctuary of a club in Aberdeen, Nathan and Akira found themselves amidst a vibrant tapestry of individuals. Neon lights fragmented through the darkness, painting everyone in splashes of surreal color. The rhythm was palpable, less a sound and more a physical force that resonated through bodies swaying, fists pumping, feet stomping.But this was no mere party. The energy was an unvoiced rebellion—a stand against societal norms that sought to marginalize them. Each person was a bright thread in this complex fabric, their shared struggles speaking louder than any melody could. Against the thumping backdrop, they found something vital: acceptance, affirmation, and a rebellion against daytime marginalization.Tucked into a corner booth, Akira’s fingers lightly circled her drink's rim, her eyes absorbing the whirlpool of hues and human drama. Nathan, equally engrossed, balanced his attention between their conversation and the living mural around them. The booth was a bubble of relative quiet, yet it offered no immunity from the room's powerful undertow.Their dialogue, whispered over the music’s ebbs and flows, became another layer in the club's soundscape. They weren’t just there to absorb the atmosphere or lose themselves in the rhythm; they had a more explicit purpose, a mission even. Still, that focus didn’t blind them to the stories unfolding all around—each individual a testament to resilience against societal prejudice.Maya was a spellbinding blend of resilience and exuberance. A trans woman fresh on the path of her transition, her almond eyes radiated an irresistible zest. Clad in a red dress that framed her slender figure, her stylish bob and freckle-dusted cheeks caught the neon glow, making her almost ethereal despite not having undergone treatment like Aki has. Her chat with Akira wasn't just words; it was a display of relentless grit, each syllable steeped in her newfound confidence.Jamie, still awaiting his transition, emanated a complex blend of yearning and resolve. With nervous, piercing blue eyes and perpetually tousled blonde hair, his presence was disarming yet intense. Dressed in casual, loose clothes designed to downplay his form."Highland Harmony—our first incarnation. It was a refuge, an 'LGBTea Time Society' if you will," Maya's voice tinged with a smile."LGBTea Time? That's golden," Akira chuckled."Golden and gone. Pre-war love-fest," Maya quipped, her tone shifting.Jamie took over, his voice gravelly. "Then came some less than kind new management. Turned our sanctuary into 'KlubFan.' A living nightmare."Nathan paused, his gaze sweeping the room. "A lesson in how prejudice corrupts safe spaces like ours.""But we fought back, and hard," Maya’s eyes narrowed, lips taut. "We clawed our way back in, blood and all.""So you evolved into the 'Aberdeen Queer Knights'? And renamed the place 'Inclusion'?" Akira felt a thrill of respect for them."Exactly," Jamie said, his eyes glowing. "Inclusion isn't just a name—it's our unbreakable spirit, our shared mission.""Inclusion isn't just a hideaway; it's a bulwark, solid as steel," Jamie continued, his voice roughened by battles fought and lessons learned. "If people come looking for a fight, we make sure they realize they've knocked on the wrong door."Maya smirked, her eyes a frigid fire. "Exactly. This isn't a daydream where we sit back and wish for peace. We create our own reality, and if someone threatens that, they're not gonna like the outcome.""And how do you ensure that?" Akira's eyes flicked between the two."We stay alert. Always," Jamie asserted, his eyes scanning the room like a hawk. "It's not just one pair of eyes watching the door; it's a hundred pairs. When you've got something worth defending, you become the defender.""And we're tech-savvy. Way ahead of the curve compared to others," Maya added, locking eyes with Akira. "Security cameras, encrypted channels. If someone tries anything stupid, we'll know before they even make their move."Nathan nodded, visibly struck by their meticulous preparations that replicated their own work and the operatives that work for them. "You've transformed this place into something remarkable. It's not just a sanctuary; it's a stronghold for all who seek refuge here."Maya lifted her glass. "To staying vigilant, and to never letting our guard down."Jamie met her gesture, locking eyes with everyone at the table. "To standing our ground, to never retreating."The clink of their glasses rang out, a symphony of resolve that echoed in a room standing as a monument to resilience, unity, and unbreakable spirit.Nathan raised his glass of water in a cheeky fashion, his expression earnest. "To 'Inclusion', then, a beacon of hope and acceptance in a world too often devoid of both."As they clinked their glasses, Akira felt a lump in her throat. The resilience of these individuals, their unity amidst hardships was inspiring. She looked around the room, taking in the dancing, laughing figures under the pulsating neon lights. Inclusion, she thought, a place where everyone belongs. An oasis in a world that seemed to be made of deserts.Underneath the pulsating beats of the club, the hum of conversation that continually added to the natural ambience of a place that was positively alive with so much social energy, Akira and Nathan began to open their own hearts. As after all, these were dear friends of Akira and friendships had no room for many walls in this world, especially in this club. "Ever thought of seeing your mother, Aki?" Jamie ventured, his voice barely audible over the music. His gaze, however, held a poignant depth, acknowledging the unspoken past that lay between them.Akira looked into her drink, the swirling neon reflections casting ghostly hues over her face. She confessed, "I nearly did once. Back in '92 when we went over to Japan for a holiday. But well… there were simply some things that pulled me far away from going through with it." She sighed, a delicate shiver running down her spine. "I just couldn't face her."A silence settled between them, each consumed by their thoughts. The confession had stirred emotions within Akira she'd long suppressed, memories of a home she'd left behind, a mother she'd distanced herself from along with him as well.“Well my face and tattoos may have given the wrong impression. Certainly spooked your pa well enough when we saw him.” Nathan joked. Aki turning to give her love a dark look at bringing up that twat. Which he put out his hands as if to say what.“Well it's true duck, he fell out of his stool at the pub and started pissing himself, he thought we were bailiffs coming to repossess his bungalow since he’s been-” Aki accidentally slipping her elbow onto Nathaniel's stomach that ceased his chatter. Her patting on his knee sending all the indication she needed.Maya, who had been listening quietly, chimed in, her voice a soothing balm to move things on, "Well we all have our battles, our demons. What matters is how we deal with them." Her eyes flicked toward Nathan. “Even yourself, I imagine, as strong as you look, with everything that has probably happened to you, I can’t imagine you live life without hatred.”Akira noticing Nathan shrugging in response as he laid back on his chair. Clearly having recovered from his stomach intenses being impacted a few seconds ago.“Nah not really, nothing that anybody here hasn’t been through.” Nathan replied with a surprisingly balanced tone. He paused, glancing at the swirling dance floor, a sea of people caught in the moment. "And nothing like which others in this world have been through like you have James. Aki has mentioned some of the things you have been though.”James shuffled his body a bit, giving a long breath and adjusting their frames before looking back at Aki and Nat.“Yeah, had a fair few years shuffling around from sofa to sofa after me da threw me out as a kid when I came out. Rest of me family not wanting to have someone staining the family rep as good Catholics. Specially when they learnt that I had been going to Ranger games instead of Celtic ones. That one shall we say didn’t go down lightly.” James chuckled at the end as Maya gave a supportive pat on the shoulder.“Went through a few fostering homes, moving around when council ran out of money or got caught up in the riots of 78. Got to a point I was living in the roof of the Lighthouse off Bell Rock, got into writing during those lovely nights with the fog and wind blowing keeping me shining.” “And here I stand today with you all. So its been well worth it.” James turning to face Nat."From the sound of your tone before, it seems like you're hard on yourself, Nathan. You move and talk like you carrying the weight of the world." Jamie listened intently, his eyes reflecting a world of empathy.Aki eyed Nat rubbing his neck at Jame’s word."Its why he always goes all out for me, trying to make up for times when he thinks he wasn't there for me." Akira cut in, her voice firm."But," Nathan interjected, his voice carrying a tinge of regret, "You’ve had your part in all of this as well. We haven’t always communicated well partly because well of things I inherited, I know I was/am a handful at the best of times and appreciate everything you do to support me. We work and ‘dance’ a lot better now, but back then, we weren’t afraid to step on each other’s toes a few times. Though you stepping on my toes during our prom dance was painful enough."Caught in the intimate web of past confessions, Akira noticed a certain heaviness lingering in Nathan's expression. His eyes seemed lost in a labyrinth of past memories, veiled under a shadow of melancholy that was uncharacteristic of his usually jovial demeanor when with friends like this. Akira's heart clenched, her concern finding words as she reached out to him, her voice gentle, "Is something bothering you chuck?"Nathan seemed to snap out of his reverie, meeting Akira's concerned gaze with his own, his eyes shimmering with an unspoken story. After a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on, he suddenly burst into laughter, a hearty sound that echoed through the pulsating music and reached Akira's ears like a reassuring melody."Ah," Nathan said, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye, "Always the worrier. I assure you, I'm as cheery as a Highland cow in a field of fresh clover." His laughter was infectious, and soon, even Akira found herself chuckling.Jamie, who had been observing this exchange, turned to Maya, a bemused expression on his face."Well, this one's certainly got acting chops. One moment he acts like he's carrying the weight of the world, and the next, he's laughing like he hasn't a care in the world."Maya nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting a hint of admiration, "Indeed. You never can tell with Nat, can you?"“Well, i have to put on my best face everywhere don’t I love?” Nat said as he turned to face his partner.Akira looked at Nathan, her heart still fluttering from her earlier concern. She couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that perhaps, there was more to Nathan's laughter than met the eye. She wondered how much of his emotions she truly understood. She looked deep into his eyes, searching for an answer, a reassurance.As if sensing her inner turmoil, Nathan gave her a reassuring smile, his eyes radiating warmth. It was all the assurance Akira needed. She smiled back at him, the corners of her lips curling up in relief, her heart settling into a comforting rhythm. Amidst the chaos of the club, a moment of silent understanding passed between them, a shared promise to always be there for one another, regardless of the trials and tribulations that life might throw their way."I must admit," she said, pressing a hand lightly to her stomach, "I'm bloody famished." The statement was met with surprised glances from their companions, a smile flickering on Nathan's lips. The confession came from Akira unexpectedly, seeping into the conversation as effortlessly as the ambient music from the club's speakers."Between missions and madness, Nat and I have practically made a hobby out of having the best meals whenever we can," Akira remarked, her gaze meeting Nathan's. An unspoken agreement shimmered between them, their unsaid objectives steering their every move.Nathan, a relaxed presence in the booth, pivoted to Maya and Jamie.”I’m sure the local food here is amazing, I just have to find something that won’t end up with me down at the bloody hospital." His jest had its desired effect, pulling laughter from the table.Akira flashed a grin, nudging Nathan playfully. "I can assure you bitch, Aberdeen's food is top-notch. Your pickiness is the only obstacle here."Nathan restrained a more sharp retort but gently countered, "Well, let's just say my stomach isn't as adventurous as I am. Sensory sensitivities come with the territory for me that you damm well know.”"When I’m seeking true Aberdeen flavor, I can't go wrong with Cullen Skink," Jamie began, his tone considerate. "It's the best Scottish soup I’ve had—smoked haddock, finest potatoes, and all. The soup puss over on Skene makes the best version."“Isn’t that the place that bellend MacArthur used to own? I remember the one time I went there as a kid, that prune wouldn’t give me bread to go with me soup without me paying a extra copper and then bellowing No Soup for you you half breed! And barring me.” Aki said as muttered on how she eventually got back by during her youth. “Yep, the very same, but its under new management since MacArthur went out of business during the war, heard he was struggling with his health recently from my partner. Apparently he’s had to go into a home.” Maya said.Aki softened at hearing that the old man wasn’t doing good, while she not exactly fond of the man, she certainly didn’t like hearing that he wasn’t doing good.Maya's eyes twinkling as she jumped in further. "Don't pass up the Aberdeen buttery, either. The finest buttery in the entire country."Nathan leaned back. "High standards here; love to see it.”Maya's eyes gleamed, a spark igniting. "When’s the last time you’ve all been to 'The Crooked Lum' on Rosemount Viaduc? Best scones in Aberdeen. Light, yet unforgettable."Jamie chimed in with a laugh. "Let them choose for themselves, Maya. You’re practically a fixture there. But hey, hard to beat those cozy, private corners—ideal for, well, intimate talks or discreet rendezvous."Nathan's eye twitched, just slightly, at the notion of 'discreet rendezvous.' "A place that offers good food without prying eyes? Sounds like our kind of place."Akira's eyes lit up at the mention of 'The Crooked Lum,' her face reflecting a mix of nostalgia and fondness. "Ah, The Crooked Lum. That place is a local gem, really. I've had many a good day there, tucked away in those cozy corners. It's as close to a culinary sanctuary as you can get in this town. So yes, I think we've found our spot for the evening."Nathan looked at her, catching the emotional nuance in her voice. "You speak like it's an old friend.""In a way, it is," she said, her eyes meeting his. "It’s one of those places that makes you feel like you're part of something bigger, yet perfectly intimate at the same time."“Speaking of intimate, I need an intimate moment of some fresh air for the time being.” Nathan made his need blatantly clear. Just as Nathan and Akira were about to step outside for a breather, a sentimental haze settled over Akira. After exchanging warm farewells with Jamie and Maya, each promising a forthcoming reunion at The Crooked Lum, they rose from their seats. The club's vibrant atmosphere lingered around them, almost like a melodic echo left by the presence of their friends.As they prepared to leave, a jarring encounter disrupted the moment. A young woman, her demeanor as boldly uninhibited as her obvious inebriation, collided with Nathan, splashing her scotch across his shirt. The immediate tang of alcohol cut through the air."My God, I'm so sorry!" She stammered, her embarrassed laugh hanging awkwardly as she reached to dab at the spill. In her clumsy haste, Akira spotted her hand grazed Nathan's face, smearing his carefully applied makeup and revealing the aged but stark scar on his left cheek.The laugh died in her throat, her eyes widening in a mix of shock and curiosity, as if the club's very pulse had skipped a beat.Aki saw her partners face remained composed, almost serenely so, but a micro-expression of discomfort flickered across his eyes before he mustered a disarming smile that only he could. "No harm done," he assured, his voice steady but tinged with an undercurrent of restraint, as though navigating a mental minefield. "Accidents happen."Though outwardly placid, the brief incident hinted at a churning sea of anxiety and emotion beneath Nathan's composed exterior.The woman, her eyes still wide with a flicker of fear, offered a final, hesitant nod of apology before retreating back into the vibrant sea of club-goers, giving a look at Akira that she picked up on before she left. The subtle scent of the spilled whisky clung to the air as her momentary shock was absorbed by the pulsating energy of the club. Akira watched as the woman vanished into the crowd, swallowed by the synchronized movement of bodies dancing to the rhythm of the music.Pushing through the disorienting scent of alcohol, Nathan excused himself and Akira from the awkward situation, opting for a hasty retreat to the fresh air outside. The tension coiled inside him eased a bit as he inhaled the cooler night air, but it didn't entirely disappear. He turned to Akira, who seemed to sense his lingering disquiet."Ready for the next part?" she asked, her eyes meeting his. He nodded, his gaze briefly flitting to the end of a dimly lit alley adjacent to the club. “Are you?” “She nodded in return."Let's go."They moved down the narrow passageway, Akira leading the way to a nondescript door, virtually hidden from view. She knocked twice, paused, then knocked once more. A small viewport slid open, revealing a pair of scrutinizing eyes. Recognizing Akira, the bouncer nodded and the heavy door creaked open, granting them entrance to a secluded VIP backroom.It was lavishly decorated but somber in ambiance, as though tailored for confidential exchanges. A few opulent armchairs were arranged in a semi-circle around a low coffee table. Although they were the first to arrive, the room seemed to echo with the invisible presence of the people they were expecting—a distinct array of powerful personalities who would soon fill the space with an entirely different kind of energy.Nathan looked around, appreciating the room's privacy and discretion. It was a far cry from the vibrant and public setting of the club, a contrast that seemed to accentuate the gravity of their pending meeting."Quite the setup," Nathan said, trying to lighten the mood as they waited. "I’m assuming Marco checked everywhere for bugs earlier?”“He did, the only bugs are our own and he is keeping tabs via the camera I had him set up.”She folded her arms and looked intently at Nathan, who was fidgeting with his sunglasses on the table. "You ever wonder, what would happen if we just pulled the plug on our involvement with the Indians? Cut off dealings with Ghasmira's parents and all those EU business bigwigs?"Nathan looked up, eyebrows raised. "Seriously Aki? You're saying this when you were the one insisting that we link in with our “siblings” in everything when I wanted us to broaden our horizons and influence in new places?She sighed, pushing her fingers through her hair. "I know, and it is important, they've helped us gain ground in ways we couldn't have alone and its important that we get along with family. But it's starting to feel like we're painting ourselves into a corner."With a pensive gaze, Nathan interlocked his fingers. "These arrangements we are in are part of why we are here now, not dead or melting away in that place like Phil and others are.”"I get that," Akira shot back, “But what's the trade-off? How much are we bending to fit their narratives? Their agendas aren't always in alignment with ours, and it's exhausting."Nathan sighed, a momentary lapse that allowed his weariness to show. "Look, I understand the desire to have partners who resonate more closely with our vision and again its something i wanted to do from the beginning. But these relationships that we are on offer us more than just monetary benefits. They give us a seat at tables we wouldn't even know existed otherwise."Akira closed the gap between them, standing next to Nathan's chair. "Do you ever wonder, though, if we've given them too many seats at our table? If their influence is eroding what we stand for?"Nathan glanced up, locking eyes with Akira. "That's the line we walk cautiously, we do better at the table than not being there and someone else getting to decide for us and I have seen and been through enough to know they don’t do shit for us in the long run.” A brief pause as the air around them allowed the tension and feelings to settle in. Aki took a sip of her drink while Nat smartened his tie up before opening his mouth again."We chose to be in this, we made our vows and oaths to our gods that we would serve for life. I remind you again that this involves everyone that you see as family. And how fucking with anything will bring their displeasure on us when we can’t afford it."She sighed, feeling the weight of their shared mission. "I know. Maybe the question isn't about severing ties but about negotiating them better, setting stronger boundaries between us and the other sects.""That's more realistic," Nathan agreed, visibly relieved. "We balance things where we can, but it on our terms, as much as we can.” “However if you want us to align elsewhere, you need to find the people, influences, make the connections, networks that we need and want. So we aren’t giving Freya or anyone the chance to destroy us okay?"Akira nodded, leaning down to kiss the top of Nathan's head gently. "We navigate this labyrinth, but we do it together. That's the only way I'd have it."Nathan smiled up at her, reinvigorated by their renewed understanding. "Navigating labyrinths is easier with a partner you trust."The doors to the backroom of the nightclub swung open with a deliberate, weighty motion. Ibrahim Osei walked in first, his dark eyes scanning the room before settling on the plush leather chairs arranged around a lacquered table. His tailored suit barely rustled as he moved, projecting an air of timeless elegance.Behind him, Ghashmira glided in, boho-French style pants, her clothes as an effortless blend of the contemporary and the traditional. She wore a confident smile, something between the serenity of knowing one's place in the world and the eagerness of a player before a chess match. She took a moment to absorb the room's ambience, electronic beats from the main area of the nightclub filtering through the walls, mingling with the scent of luxury cigars and aged whisky.Ganabati was the last to enter, his demeanour decidedly nonchalant. "Ah, the War Council assembles," Ibrahim noted with a thin smile, his Ghanaian accent rendering the statement both sardonic and oddly charming Aki found.Ghashmira returned the smile, her eyes twinkling. "War Council? I was under the impression this was a cordial gathering of old friends and fellow allies."Ibrahim chuckled. "Ah, but in our line of work, those two are often indistinguishable."Ganabati, who had started setting up his laptop at a corner of the table, looked up. "Can we save the poetic exchanges for later? There are pressing matters at hand."Ghashmira shot him an amused look. "Oh, come on, Ganabati. Even machines need to warm up.""Well, my 'machine' is perfectly warmed up and ready to go," Ganabati smirked. "The question is, are all of you?"Ibrahim took his seat at the head of the table. "Let's find out, shall we?"Ghashmira gracefully lowered herself into a chair adjacent to Ibrahim, her posture impeccably straight yet relaxed. "By all means," she echoed, her voice imbued with the same complex mix of joy and steeliness that seemed to define her.Ibrahim leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table as if he were about to say a prayer. The room's ambient lighting seemed to spotlight him for a moment. "Firstly, I would like to thank both of you for having us. I understand the work we are all involved in rarely allows for leisure, let alone meetings."Ghashmira leaned back, one arm casually draped over the back of her chair. "Oh, you make it sound so formal, Ibrahim. We're all in this together, aren't we? And for a compelling reason, I presume."Ibrahim's eyes met hers. "Compelling, indeed. The situation with Singh has escalated in ways I'd rather not disclose via any form of communication that could be intercepted. So I thought this meeting would be the best way to address it. For the sake of our beliefs and mission.""Ah, the verbal battleground—the theatre of dreams and nightmares," Ghashmira mused, crossing her legs.Akira and Nathan took a moment to scan the room—Ghashmira, ever the diplomat in her tweedy men's suit that had Aki had to admit she made work with the brown lofters and pressed trousers that suited her well-built body, as she moved to sit next to her. Across from them was Ganabati, his face inscrutable and in his raggy clothing as usual with his belly sticking out and all the hairs on it that made Akira wince. Ibrahim had positioned himself at the head of the table, exuding authority even in his silence."I want to be clear from the get-go," Nathan said, his voice even. "I've extensively discussed this issue with Ghashmira and others over the past months. My stance has been made abundantly clear in regards to what happened to my partner.”"I don't see why we're even having this meeting," Akira interjected, her eyes darting towards everyone before settling on Nathan. "Trust has been broken beyond repair, especially after what Singh did. So, let's not pretend that this is some sort of democratic forum where my vote is actually considered equal."Turning to Nathan, her gaze became icier. "I still don't understand why it feels I am the only one in my own corner here.”Nathan felt the weight of her words but remained composed behind his sunglasses as always.“I’m here, I have been here in every meeting, speaking and fighting for you on this every step of the way. I’m here tonight to back you up through all of this. But everyone needs to hear your voice, and your feelings on this because we cannot move forward from what happened until you make the decision on the recourse. As you are the victim in this and the hammer of justice needs to be wielded by you,” Nat emphasized his final words by hamming his fist down on the table.Almost spilling over the drinks on the table with Ghash and Ibrahim having to hold on to their and Ganabati grabbing the Laptop to balance it. Bits of Aki’s wine drenched on the cobalt blue Midi dress she was wearing.“So please grá, please right here, right now, tell everyone of Singh’s crime against you and how much it has hurt you and what they need to do to rectify it now?” Nat said.Akira feeling his gaze focused fully on her, not retreating at all in his seriousness. Taking a gasp for breath, she nodded and closed her eyes, preparing herself to make her case.Nat’s hand patting her white glove in support.This was a delicate balance, and the meeting had only just begun.“Let me just say, I was sexually assaulted and that is something that can’t be just forgotten or forgiven.” The reiteration from Akira proved just how much she wanted her voice to be known on this stance. Effectively, she managed to ensure her resonating point would not be lost to an echo chamber. “Ghashmira, as a woman, I expected you to really toward my side more blatantly considering how this has happened to you.”Ghashmira, observing the charged exchange, leaned forward. "Akira, I understand your reservations. Truly, I do. But discussions like these, as difficult as they are, lay the foundation for any progress we might make." Akira said as she shifted her body.Akira glanced at Ghashmira, the guarded look in her eyes softening just a touch. "Your idealism is charming, but some things can't be mended."Ibrahim cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Perhaps it would help if we refocused. Akira, you have strong reservations; that much is clear. Would it be fair to ask for specifics? In black and white terms, what are the issues you believe are irreparable?"It was a direct question, meant to steer the conversation back to concrete matters. Akira took a moment, her lips pressing together as she gathered her thoughts."The issue is simple," she finally said. "There are lines that have been crossed, boundaries that have been violated. And no discussion can ever make those disappear."Ibrahim nodded, acknowledging her feelings without making any promises to solve them. "Understood. Does anyone have any perspectives they'd like to add before we explore potential ways forward—or not?"Ghashmira looked at Akira, then at Nathan, before speaking. "If there's any way to find common ground, we should try. But it should be clear that any attempt to rebuild must be consensual. And it should also be clear that some things might be fundamentally unfixable."Akira looked at each face around the room, her gaze finally settling on Nathan. She sighed, a mixture of resignation and lingering anger in her voice."Let's get on with it, then. But don't expect any miracles."Ghashmira steepled her fingers, surveying the tension in the room. "I understand that emotions are running high. This is a delicate situation, laden with personal and professional complexities that none of us can fully fathom. But we have broader responsibilities, responsibilities that extend beyond this room."Akira raised an eyebrow, skepticism painting her features. "Broader responsibilities? Are we talking about the same thing?""Yes," Ghashmira responded, her tone steady. "The Indian court and its pending resistance against Britannian rule is not just an Indian issue, Aki. It has repercussions for the European Union, and hence, for us. Not to forget the ongoing projects we have with them and with Nathan here."Nathan shifted uncomfortably,Akira was aware that this whole thing meant he was on shaky ground with both his allies and his business ventures in the EU. Ghashmira glanced at him, acknowledging the shared precariousness of their situation without verbalizing it."We're not just talking about the diplomatic relations or military alliances," Ghashmira continued. "This has potential trade implications. Should India regain its sovereignty, that opens up new possibilities for the EU in terms of trade partnerships with other Asian powers.""I can't believe you're using geopolitical strategy as a justification—" Akira started, her voice tinged with disbelief."It's not a justification; it's context," Ghashmira cut her off, striking a balance between firmness and tact. "You need to understand, Akira, your decision here doesn't exist in a vacuum. There are many lives and intricate relationships hinging on the choices we make in this room. Now, I empathize with you, but jeopardizing all of this... is not an option."The room seemed to hold its breath, the gravity of Ghashmira's words settling like a dense fog.Nathan finally spoke, his voice cautious. "Ghashmira's has a point. The investments are considerable and diversified—ranging from military intelligence to social welfare projects in Europe. But it doesn't mean we're cornered."“You can’t just disregard my feelings here, like they don’t matter. We’re all peers and I’m not going to be talked down to.” Akira's eyes diverted from Ghashmira and turned to meet Nathan's and for a moment, the barriers seemed to come down slightly. She sighed."Everyone, understand this: My 'broader responsibilities' will never come at the cost of my self-respect or my safety. Are we clear?"Ghashmira nodded, her face reflecting a complex blend of relief and regret. "Crystal clear, Akira."Ghashmira paused, allowing the room a moment to absorb the tension that had been both revealed and concealed. She looked Akira directly in the eyes, her own gaze unflinching. "Akira, let me be clear: What happened with Singh is unconscionable. I don't take it lightly, and neither should anyone else in this room."Aki glanced at Nathan watching the interaction, his jaw set. The sense of justice warring with the calculated pragmatism that his line of work demanded."As for your safety and dignity," Ghashmira continued, "We will take extensive measures to ensure that nothing of that sort ever happens again. Singh's behaviour will be dealt with, in no uncertain terms. No form of harassment or assault can be tolerated in the environment we aim to foster,"Akira listened, her posture still guarded but her face less hardened than before. "I want more than promises, Ghashmira. I want action, and I want assurance."Nodding, Ghashmira elaborated, "Absolutely. To begin with, we propose a 'non-aggression' pact between you and Singh. This is a binding agreement that ensures both parties maintain a respectful distance from each other, professionally and personally. Breach of this pact will have immediate and severe consequences.""Additionally," Ghashmira leaned forward, her eyes never leaving Akira's, "You will have extra layers of security and institutional backing to safeguard you against any similar actions. We're not just talking about physical security, but legal and emotional support as well."“And what good will it do? Is your security so advanced they can somehow erase what has already been allowed to happen to me? Something that my own security failed to prevent?” There was no chance she would merely accept such a nearly useless compromise, let alone on word alone. “The problem was that the security forces were complacent with Singh. That complacency is what lead to my assault.”Nathan broke his silence. "I can also assure you that our intelligence network and persona will keep an eye on Singh's activities, especially when they intersect with yours. Akira and myself make sure the monitoring is comprehensive and discreet, with complete cooperation with Ghashmira and Ibrahim.”Ghashmira nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Nathan. Furthermore, there will be an internal inquiry and disciplinary actions against Singh, aligned with our ethics. Our goal is not just punitive but preventative. We'll also hold sensitivity and harassment training sessions, which will be mandatory for all."Akira considered the layers of promises, visibly weighing their sincerity against her own reservations. "All right. I'll agree to this 'non-aggression' pact and your extended measures. But remember," she pointed a finger at Ghashmira and then Nathan. "I'll be holding both of you accountable for ensuring these aren't empty words."Ghashmira met her gaze, the weight of the responsibility settling on her. "You have my word, Akira. Your safety and dignity are non-negotiable, and I'll stake my reputation on safeguarding them.""Just as we are expecting you to adhere to no aggressive acts against Singh, you do have a reputation and history of it after all.” Ghashmira’s words caused Akira to avert her gaze. Yes, she did a rep for the way she has gone about certain situations in the past with fellow siblings and before that… Glasgow."We will make it a dedicated effort.” Nathan inputted that drew Akira out of her thoughts."We can’t ever allow such apathy in the security personnel again. Ally or not, Singh only was able to do what he did because he had recognized that there was no one to stop him, because no one has stopped him before. It cannot and will never happen again.”The room exhaled in collective relief, each person aware that while a hurdle had been cleared, the race was far from over. Yet for that moment, it was enough.When the room reached a brief lull, following Ghashmira's and Nathan's assurances to Akira, Ibrahim finally spoke up. His voice was deep, the kind that could command a room with minimal effort, embodying decades of political and business acumen."I appreciate the progress we are making here," he began, a slight trace of an accent marking his otherwise impeccable English. "Ghashmira has ably represented the interests and standards of our organization."He leaned forward, locking eyes first with Akira, and then Nathan. "But let's not forget that we are all bound by the decisions of the Council of 4. Their authority is not to be questioned, nor disregarded. We have a long-standing, mutually beneficial relationship with the Indian court, and it's crucial that we maintain that balance for the sake of our collective goals. Which the honourable Pristress Kayci fully agreed on at our last meeting the end of November."Akira glanced toward Nathan, as if measuring the weight of Ibrahim's words, he returned her glance, measuring how their Priestess's position on this was weighing on her. Nathan's face was inscrutable, but he gave a subtle nod as did Aki a second later.Ibrahim continued, "The truce that has been painfully constructed over the years is not up for debate. We will not entertain threats or deviations that could destabilize it. Especially not when there is so much at stake globally."Ghashmira caught Ibrahim's gaze and nodded subtly, grateful for his reinforcement while also cognizant of the unspoken pressure his words carried."I trust this clarifies the overarching framework within which we're operating," Ibrahim concluded, leaning back in his chair, "And that we can move forward in a manner befitting the decorum and gravity that our organization and affiliations demand."There was a palpable sense of the shift in the room. It was as if a higher power had just reminded everyone of the larger chessboard they were all pieces on. Akira, despite her lingering reservations, understood the greater complexities that tied them all begrudgingly.Ghashmira leaned forward, her eyes capturing everyone in the room as she interlaced her fingers thoughtfully. "Listen, I wanted to put it as succinctly as possible: the Indian Rebellion is not just a coup, a strike, or some small-scale insurgency. This is a momentous endeavour, aimed at restructuring the very fabric of a subjugated nation."She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "Our actions here, the decisions we make, don't merely influence our immediate concerns. They echo through the halls of future governance, shaping the course of a nation that has been yearning for liberation for decades now."Ghashmira shifted her gaze towards Akira and Nathan. "The partnerships we have, the alliances we're a part of—they're the very sinew that binds this rebellion together. They enable us to even think we can topple the oppressor from a land they consider their playground."She glanced at her boss, who nodded ever so slightly, before continuing. "We've all made sacrifices. We all have skin in the game. And yes, I completely acknowledge what happened with Singh. It's inexcusable, unacceptable, and it will not go unpunished. But we can't let the actions of one man crumble the very structure we've fought to put in place."Ghashmira let her words hang in the air, hoping they would serve as the scaffolding for a bridge over the chasm that seemed to have opened up in the room.Ibrahim, who had been an imposing yet reticent presence throughout the meeting, finally chose to speak again. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I may interject." His voice resonated with a blend of conviction and affluence, a testament to years of navigating complex geopolitical terrains."My family, the Makals, and I have a vested interest in the betterment of this organization and the realization of our collective objectives," he began. "Not only in Europe but across Britannia and Japan. Today's meeting reassures me that despite our diverse backgrounds and conflicting personal interests, we share a vision for a more equitable future. This kind of synergy is precisely what's needed to sustain our agenda."He turned towards Akira and Nathan. "You are not peripheral players in this. You are key, absolutely integral to the long-term strategies we're developing. Your grievances are not overlooked, and they will be addressed."With a nod to an aide, he handed a document to Akira—a pre-drafted non-aggression pact. "I propose this formal pact be reviewed and, if found acceptable, be signed as a commitment to our mutual objectives and the security of each individual here. This pact can act as a fortress against any further untoward incidents that threaten our unity."Ibrahim's eyes met Akira's with an intensity that bordered on the solemn. "Further to these dialogues and resolutions, I feel it's important to make some form of material amends for the sufferings you've endured," he said, the timbre of his voice leaving no room for triviality. "A vocal commitment is one thing; action is quite another."He paused for a moment, letting his words hover in the air as if waiting for them to settle in Akira's consciousness. "Therefore, to underscore our seriousness and to tangibly demonstrate our commitment to repairing what has been broken, I intend to personally invest in several initiatives that you and Nathan have been spearheading."Leaning slightly forward, his hands clasped together on the table in front of him, Ibrahim continued, "These are not mere gestures that I offer. This is not philanthropy or some self-serving bid for public goodwill. Consider it a form of reparation, albeit one that can never truly compensate for the harm you've suffered. And know that this is but the first step in a series of actions we are prepared to take to rebuild trust, to validate your concerns, and to assure you of your indispensable role in our shared future."His eyes still locked on hers, he added. "Your well-being, your dignity, your aspirations—they matter to us Akira. Not just as ethical imperatives, but as foundational elements in the new world we all seek to create."He finally looked at everyone in the room. "Akira, your responsibilities in this are as cherished by me as my own. I do not take your role or your well-being lightly. You are not a cog in the machine; you are part of the machine's very soul."Ibrahim paused, letting his commitment seep into the room. "Let this be a new chapter for us—a chapter of increased cooperation, mutual respect, and a renewed focus on our grand objectives."He sat back down, his eyes scanning the faces around the table. The weight of his words, like anchors, hoped to ground them all in the midst of the tempest that had been their previous disagreements.Akira hesitated for a moment, her eyes scanning the non-aggression pact before her. The ink seemed to dance with the weight of what it symbolized, an uneasy truce forged from turmoil. Finally, with a mix of resignation and reluctant optimism, she picked up the pen and signed her name. The moment her signature etched into the paper, it felt as though an invisible shroud lifted from the room; the tension that had been gripping everyone seemed to dissipate into the air.Akira observed as Ghashmira rose from her seat, her posture emanating a palpable sense of relief that seemed to be shared by everyone in the room. She approached Nathan, each step full of gravitas."You did well, sis," Nathan said, his tone uncharacteristically warm.Ghashmira replied, her voice laced with a mix of exasperation and fondness, " You as well bro, always the smooth operator."At this, Akira chimed in, "If he wasn't, we might never get anything done."Nathan glanced at her and nodded appreciatively. He returned his gaze to Ghashmira. "But remember, I do it for us—""—And for a future where these meetings become footnotes in history," Nathan completed her sentence, filling the room with the gravity of their shared ambitions." Where we all have a stake in that future," Akira said, her voice carrying the weight of her own hopes and responsibilities.“Indeed sis, by the way you look fantastic. Really happy that your transition is going well and that you are finally getting to be who you always wanted to be. You knows its partly because of you that i-” “Thank you Ghash, I appreciate your kind words.” Aki bluntly interrupted her, not wanting to hear any more honey talk after that shit show.With a nod of acknowledgement, Ghashmira turned to prepare her exit.Attention shifted to Ibrahim, who had been a stoic presence throughout the meeting. Akira and Nathan turned to him. "I am sure that was as unbearable for you as it was for me?""Endurance, Mr Andre, isn't just a virtue; it's a lens through which we view the world," Ibrahim began. "There is always something worse, something uglier than the present moment. Picture a battlefield after the war has moved on. We could be sifting through rubble, picking up remnants of lives unlived and dreams unfulfilled. Instead, we're here, in the realm of possibility, forging partnerships and building a scaffold for the future."Nathan nodded, absorbing Ibrahim's words, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. "I know, I endure every day of our lives in more ways than one despite my skin colour.""Same here." Akira felt moved to add her voice again,Ibrahim's eyes swept across Nathan and then Akira. Clearly repressing their dislike of Nat bringing up race."You see, whether we're walking through the corridors of power or navigating the maze of our own consciousness, as long as we walk it together, that road ceases to be a mere conduit. It becomes a journey unto itself, and the destination transforms into a shared future." Ibrahim said as he made his way to the door to depart.As the meeting participants began making their way toward the exits, Akira saw Nathan caught Ganabati's eye and approached him along with her. "Ganabati my good man, how’s we doing mate?"Ganabati looked up, his eyes placid but attentive. "Fine thank you. I’ll be glad to get back to my workshop soon and work on the projects we have been developing for our operations in India now that the risk of them being cancelled or delay has abated."“Still got the audit by Dinky Dink coming up next month, that comb drip will be looking to make cuts everywhere.” Nat said.Oh yes, that accounting dickhead Akira remembered who tried to deny her pay rise this year. Claiming her transition meant she should be on a lower pay-scale. Before she basically browbeat him to the point he gave in begrudgingly. “He can try, but if he wants to make a profit, he’s going to have to back off, i’m sure Miss Norwood will make sure he doesn’t interfere.” "I’ll see you at the Christmas party, watch yourself with the beer mate. Don’t want you getting too drunk too quickly.""Compared to some of your department, I’m a modest drinker and you know that, best remind Belyana and Dean to be on their best behaviour with the Directors there." Ganabati retorted that made Akira smirk at Nat being put on the spot."Don’t worry, they know how to behave, see you soon Gan,""And you, Nathan. The road is long, but may the steps be light and our burdens bearable."As Akira and Nathan turned to leave, they felt a warmth settle in, a contrast to the often cold, strategic exchanges that filled rooms like these. It was the actual warmth of the room itself, the temperature and the club itself becoming nearly intolerable. As everyone shuffled out, they opted for the discreet alley exit, vanishing into the shadows of the city night. Their footsteps echoed softly, as though the night swallowed up the residual tension from the meeting. Akira noticing that Ghashmira, Ganabati, and Ibrahim wore expressions that were inscrutable yet somehow lighter than before, as they merged into the labyrinthine streets that would take them back to their separate worlds.In contrast, Nathan and Akira moved towards the main entrance, stepping back into the pulsating world of the nightclub. The neon lights blinked rhythmically, as though nothing world-altering had just transpired within these walls. Bass-heavy music throbbed through the air, enveloping them in an atmosphere so divergent from the room they'd just left."I want to say goodbye to a few more friends before we go," Akira said, her voice a notch softer now, "They should still be here somewhere."Nathan nodded, watching as Akira's demeanor shifted slightly; her face relaxed into an expression of familiarity, comfort even, as they navigated through the sea of revelers. There was a moment of brief, happy exchange when she found her friends—a fleeting island of normality in an evening that had been anything but.Akira watched as Nathan navigated through the sea of gyrating bodies, making his way to the bar. Her eyes, keen observers, noticed the depth of his contemplation as he took a sip of water, staring into the glass as if seeking answers. Beside her, Beylana had seemingly materialized from the crowd upon seeing her and leaned in to make a snarky comment about the crowded venue and how most of the people couldn’t keep up with her on the dance, but Akira only half-listened.For a brief moment, her gaze shifted and locked onto a striking individual across the room. Intrigued, she almost forgot the reason they were there—until she saw Nathan's shoulders slump subtly, a telltale sign of his eagerness to leave for the night. A wave of concern washed over her, drowning out her earlier curiosity about the intriguing stranger."I wonder what he’s thinking," she thought, feeling an urgency she couldn't quite define. "Whatever it is, the music, the lights and the heat can’t be helping.”Before she could make her way to him, she caught Nathan's head turning to someone across the bar—someone who surprisingly resembled Haru. Akira felt her gut tighten. This was something they had sidestepped for so long and this little encounter was intriguing. She then noticed someone she hadn’t seen for a while, Kelly who was getting a drink at the bar and made her way to her.“Kelly, how are you lov-”“Fuck off Akira, six months you don’t contact me and now you come up acting like its only yesterday since we last saw one another,” Kelly snapped. That made Akira jump up, surprised at her tone.“Kelly, I’m sorry for not keeping in touch, I’ve had a lot going on.”“As have I, lost me job, me bastard boyfriend slept with me bestie and me ma overdosing the stupid cow. And still kept texting you, calls that you never answered, hell you didn't even acknowledge me once all the times you have been here you wee tadger. Our gal Laura said you were a flak. Now I know better, eat shit along with that english bike you ride after.” Kelly said.Akira too stunned to respond as she stomped away along with her friends. She didn’t sense Bel coming up to her side, stepping on her heels to offer a supportive hand on Aki’s shoulders."You alright, Aki?" Beylana asked, her eyes narrowing with concern.Akira shook her head, more to clear her thoughts than to answer. "I will be once we get out of here," She said finally. "It’s getting late anyways and I really could do with eating something before everywhere closes”Leaving Beyl with a nod, Akira worked her way through the crowd, her bodyguards maintaining a discreet but vigilant distance. When she finally reached Nathan, her hand found his shoulder—a gesture meant to ground both of them. However, it was still invasive just enough to make Nathan’s head snap toward the source of the touch instinctively. "I’m so fucking ready to eat the biggest meal and then sleep for a week," Nathan said softly. His body clearly struggling to stay propped up, with their shoulders slumped and constant sighs leaving their mouth"For sure ready to go? Need more water first?" Akira asked, as though sensing his need to escape, not just from the club but from the labyrinth of his own thoughts."I’m Good," Nathan replied, flashing her a weary but genuine smile. "Let’s get the hell out of here"As they turned to leave, Akira cast one final glance over his shoulder. The Haru-lookalike had vanished into the crowd, but the unsettling echo of that encounter remained.The sharp contrast of the cool Scottish breeze welcomed them, providing relief from the warmth and humidity of the club. The chill was a refreshing balm against the warmth of their skin, still flushed from the heat of the pulsating crowd. Akira felt the cool breeze graze her skin as the winter nightsky haled across her home town.Aki and Nathaniel filled their lungs with the clean, cool air, taking a moment to savor the unique aroma that made Aberdeen distinct. It was a delightful blend of the sea's brininess and the earthy scent of centuries-old stone buildings that stood as silent witnesses to the passage of time which Akira could never get enough of no matter how many times it enters her sinus’s. As the pulsating echoes of 'Inclusion' dimmed in the distance, they stood on the precipice of their task, ready to dive into the unpredictable depths of the night.Akira and Nathan's steps synced effortlessly, brushing against each other as they navigated the twilight streets. A palpable mix of hunger and electric anticipation clung to the air around them. Their bodyguard's keeping watch for any spies or local bobbies looking to give them trouble.As they walked, Akira's voice broke the comfortable quiet, tinged with a wistful note. "It's strange to see how much Aberdeen has changed."Akira saw Nathan glancing at her, his lips tightening just a touch. "Do you miss the way Aberdeen used to be when you were younger?"Akira met his eyes, her own shimmering with a playful light. "I do, in a way. There's a charm to what once was, don't you think?"Nathan grinned, but it lacked warmth. "Charm isn't the word I'd use. The past had its own issues, too many for me to put any nostalgia on it. Outside of a few bits like yourself."Akira laughed softly, her breath visible in the night air. "You were always quick to puncture my rose-colored views. But post-war, things are shifting, at least. With the right conversations, I feel like i am making an actual impact here."As they turned a corner, they passed a wall marred by hateful graffiti, likely aimed at the club's community with the most vulgar language that no doubt some sad miserable teen could think of. “At least bigots are still honest about hating us, it's the silence of supposed allies that is the real enemy.” Nathan's posture stiffened. "Malicious by choice is so much easier to deal with than ignorance or fake affection is."Akira's smile lost its brilliance, her eyes meeting his. "True. But look at us—stronger, more unified. We've also learned to cherish what we have now, haven't we?"Nathan nodded, but his eyes remained on the graffiti a moment longer, a grim reminder that some battles were ongoing, no matter the gains Akira knew, but ones they were winning.They fell silent for a moment, their shared memories lingering between them. It was as if the city itself was listening to their conversation, the stones under their feet resonating with their words.Then the sound of their stomachs growling breaking the poignant silence. Aki and Nat shooting sheepish looks at each other."Right, lets go have ourselves the best meal" Nat said.“Yes, lets go have that meal.”Akira, filled with new-found resolve and her spirit lifted by the shared promises, confidently took the lead. She grasped Nathan's hand with the conviction that she knew the way to the recommended restaurant where James and Maya were waiting at the booked table.----

Mature Content

Bertie and the DoctorThe TARDIS bucked and squealed; the Cloister Bell rang out deafeningly indicating alarm; sparks rained down from everywhere and, not for the first time, Dan Lewis wondered if fuses were really so expensive. ‘Nearly got ’er!’ the Doctor shouted cheerfully over the chaos. Dan, clinging to the console so hard his knuckles were turning white, shared an uncertain glance with Yasmin Khan who was likewise holding on for dear life. ‘Not convinced, Doctor!’ Yas shouted back. ‘But what the ’ell ’appened?’ Dan yelled, apparently choosing the wrong moment to join the conversation as, artificial gravity or not, the TARDIS swung 360-degrees vertically and left his stomach behind. ‘We nearly got hit by two ships that were fighting mid-flight,’ the Doctor replied, apparently more interested in why the near-miss happened than the fact that it happened in the first place. ‘Don’t often see that. It’s pretty new. Different.’ With a loud bang, the TARDIS finally stopped shaking. The Cloister Bell stopped pealing and the only noise became the gentle whirr of the time rotor. ‘So, hold on,’ Yas said, massaging her temples with her fingers, ‘how did something nearly hit us? We’re in the time vortex, not the M1!’ ‘Two ships, battling away, not caring one bit about passing temporal traffic,’ the Doctor said, not even registering that she heard Yas at all. ‘Now, normally that’d be bad. But this time, it’s worse!’ Grinning like a lunatic, the Doctor swivelled the console’s monitor screen to show a still image of two spaceships: one arrow-shaped; one like a traditional flying saucer. ‘What’m I lookin’ at?’ Dan asked, finally giving up on the Doctor providing an unprompted answer. ‘That’s a Chula warship,’ the Doctor said, her grin spreading even wider. ‘Small things, glorified fighter jets really. Don’t see many of ’em these days.’ ‘And the unidentified flyin’ ’ubcap?’ Dan asked again. ‘That? Oh, nothing,’ the Doctor said, her face falling. ‘Just a Dalek scoutship.’ ‘You what?’ Yas cried. ‘Daleks? And we’re just, what? Goin’ after ’em?’ ‘Yep,’ the Doctor replied, turning her attention back to the console. ‘Coz it looks like they’re about to crash into Victorian-era Earth.’Horsell Common, United Kingdom, Earth. 26 August 1894.It was a brisk Sunday, the last weekend in August and the perfect time for a stroll on the common. If nothing else, it helped to wash away one’s problems. And he had many of those right now. Bertie was unhappy. His marriage was disintegrating, which was impacting the journalistic work he was getting from puritanical editors and publishers. There was nothing so socially unacceptable the middle classes of Victorian England as adultery; and for all his worth, Bertie was an adulterer. He kept telling himself that he had just fallen in love with Jane; neither of them expected it to happen, but it did. He and his wife were separated now, but if he intended to make a life with Jane then he needed a regular income. Bertie did not want to go back into teaching, not that any educational institution worth its salt would touch a divorcee with a reputation of seducing one of his students. Besides, he enjoyed writing. It was an outlet for him, an escape from the petty bourgeois morals that surrounded them. Yet his attempts at producing longer-form prose had fallen flat. He had ideas for some form of scientific romance; planning ideas for a counterpart to Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court where the protagonist would travel into the future instead of the past, but he could not for the life of him work out how. How would his hero move through time? It was while musing on these topics that Bertie was interrupted by an almighty roar in the sky. Looking up, he saw two falling stars, tearing through the air with a deafening bang, before a second enormous boom indicated that the two meteorites had impacted the ground. One, he estimated, had fallen further east, probably on Byfleet golf course; but the other must have hit the ground close to him, probably towards the sandpits in the middle of the forest. Straightening his cap, Bertie set off at a trot towards the closest meteorite.Once again, the Doctor was not for answering questions. Dan, on the other hand, was not going to give in. ‘Just give me an estimate, Doctor,’ he said again. ‘Rough guess. How many Daleks are there gonna be on that thing?’ ‘Oh, no more than three,’ the Doctor said with a shrug, not looking up as she scampered around the console, pulling on levers seemingly at random. ‘It’s only a scoutship, about thirty metres across. Definitely probably not more than three crew. Maybe.’ ‘And what about the other ship?’ Yas asked. ‘What are they gonna be like?’ ‘The Chula?’ the Doctor replied, still not looking up. ‘Yeah, great, great bunch of people. If you like soldiers. And I don’t. Still, better than the Daleks, eh?’ ‘Root canal work’s better than the Daleks,’ Yas said, exasperation creeping into her voice. ‘Being better than the Daleks isn’t an ’igh bar, y’know!’ ‘Yeah, great,’ the Doctor continued, barely listening, before suddenly yelling in triumph. ‘Ha! Got ’em! Hold on, I’m bringing her in!’ With a loud wheezing groan, the TARDIS began to materialise.Darkness. Nothing but darkness. Then visual feeds began to come back online. The Navigator righted itself and looked around. The roof of the scoutship had sheared off in the crash and now hung off the ship like the lid of a partially opened can, leaving the control room exposed to the elements. Looking around further, the Navigator saw that the Gunner was likewise trying to get back upright. The Commander, however, was finished. The Navigator moved across to its former commanding officer. Its casing had been smashed open, revealing the mutant inside. The creature was still alive, its tentacles waving feebly towards its former subordinates. ‘Are you operational?’ the Navigator asked. ‘Affirmative,’ the Gunner replied. ‘I am operating at 72.4% of peak efficiency.’ ‘I register at 71.3% efficiency,’ the Navigator barked. ‘The Commander has been destroyed. The ship is heavily damaged, but its temporal and star drives are repairable.’ ‘Confirmed,’ the Gunner barked. ‘What are your orders?’ ‘We must gather materials to repair our craft,’ the Navigator ordered. ‘We are unable to contact fleet command. We cannot request rescue. We must make repairs and return to the fleet.’ ‘Agreed,’ the Gunner replied. ‘But power systems are compromised; defensive screens are inoperative.’ ‘Then we must make use of what power we have,’ the Navigator barked. ‘Avoid confrontation with local forces wherever possible. We shall gather iron, copper and aluminium to repair our vessel.’Wobbling into the air, leaving three trails of sparks and ionised air in their wake, the two Daleks departed. Watching from the nearby woods, Bertie saw the two fantastical machines leave, staggering onto what for all the world looked like three legs made of lightning. With a deafening clang that reverberated around the forest, the roof of the ship finally snapped off and dropped to the ground. Bertie was unable to restrain himself and, despite his fear, began to creep closer. Curiosity overcame him and he approached the crater the meteorite lay in. The saucer had pancaked, hitting the soft sandy ground bottom section first rather than being edge-on. Consequently, it now sat in the crater at an angle and gave the impression of just being the top of a much bigger object. But that was not the thing that drew Bertie’s attention the most. Within the gaping void of the open control cabin, something was moving. One of the metal contraptions Bertie had seen leaving moments before was laying at the edge of the opening, smashed open and revealing some sort of vile... thing in its midst. Tentacles waved in the air and gripped the edge of the shattered machine, pulling a horrifying mockery of a face behind it. The skin was green-and-brown tinged, one eye closed as if blinded and a beak-like slit of a mouth that sucked at the air and dribbled unspeakable slime. The other eye glared at him with what Bertie could only rationalise to be some sort of unspoken hatred. There was clear intelligence in the single functional eye, but an intelligence so foreign, so alien, as to make Bertie feel a sense of terror he could not rationalise. The creature made a loud squealing sound, startling Bertie and causing him to run for his life back towards Chobham Road.For its part, the Dalek commander looked upon the startled humanoid with something that could be approximated to disappointment. It wanted to kill, to fulfil the directive to destroy anything not of its own kin and so preserve its race; but its casing was destroyed, its life support failing and it knew it was dying. It had no weapon to fire at the fleeing creature and was too injured to try and attack the thing with its own organic body. It died feeling disappointment at not killing its target, the only emotion it had ever felt other than fear, hatred and anger.The TARDIS materialised perfectly for once, with no bumps or lurching, and the Doctor seemed inordinately proud of the fact. ‘Right, here we are,’ she announced brightly. ‘Southern England, 26th of August 1894, just before lunchtime and about five minutes after the Dalek and Chula ships should’ve crashed. Shall we?’ ‘Doctor, just a minute,’ Yas said, catching the Time Lord’s sleeve. ‘Are you sure you want to go up against a ship of really honked-off Daleks?’ ‘She’s gorra point,’ Dan added, ‘I mean they don’t exactly like you.’ ‘Daleks don’t like anybody,’ the Doctor said with a frown. ‘And anyway, this is 1894. Who else is gonna do anything about it?’ ‘Hate it when she says things like that,’ Yas sighed, ‘it always means somebody’s gonna start shooting at us.’ The Doctor opened her mouth, as if she was about to start arguing, then suddenly frowned. ‘Doctor?’ Yas said, awaiting the inevitable explanation about why she was wrong. ‘Anything to add?’ ‘Ssh!’ the Doctor said, holding her right hand up to silence her companions, before turning and frowning towards the door. ‘Can you hear that?’ It was faint, but Yas and Dan could both make out a tapping coming from the outside of the TARDIS. It almost sounded like... ‘Is somebody tryin’ to use the phone in the door?’ Dan asked with incredulity. ‘Sounds like there’s somebody tappin’ the cradle, like they’re tryin’ to get the operator.’ ‘How old are you?’ Yas said, a playful smirk crossing her face. ‘What?’ Dan said defensively, folding his arms. ‘You’ve ’ad land lines, surely! Plus, we spent three years stuck in the early 1900s, you tellin’ me that in all that time you never tried to make a phone call?’ ‘Who would I phone?’ Yas chuckled. ‘Besides, the only land-line phones we ever had growing up were cordless.’ ‘Ooh, la-di-da!’ Dan replied in gentle, mock-insult. ‘Thought you grew up in the Don Valley, Yorkie, not Silicon Valley!’ ‘Look ’ere, Scouse,’ Yas said, playfully punching Dan’s arm, before the Doctor silenced both of them. ‘Oi!’ she whispered. ‘TARDIS phone, important, remember?’ As if to reinforce this, the sound of a muffled man’s voice started coming from the door. Without another word, the Doctor crossed the floor and flung both the TARDIS doors open, causing a white man in his late-20s to fall through the doorway still clutching the receiver. ‘Morning!’ the Doctor said brightly. ‘I’m the Doctor, and I’d be grateful if you didn’t play with that.’Pilot-Major Stek Crar of the Chula Defence Force slowly flexed their fingers, feeling the pistol strapped to their hip. This, they reminded themselves for the thousandth time since crash-landing a few miles away, was utter suicide. CDF protocols in the event of a crash were simple: if the ship was unrepairable, set the auto-destruct to prevent cultural contamination and then seek refuge until rescue comes. Every ship had a temporal beacon that should draw in any other CDF ships or operatives of the Time Agency, but not for the first time Crar thought that just giving them a vortex manipulator each would be a damn sight easier. Nobody in CDF command had apparently entertained the possibility of crashing next to another time travel-capable species, and there was no way Crar was going to activate the damn beacon while there were still Daleks about to pick up the transmission. Which meant that they had to find the Daleks and destroy them. Which, when you were armed with nothing but a two-shot Compact Laser Deluxe, was easier said than done. It wasn’t like Crar had any options: there was no way they could let their cargo fall into Dalek possession. Hoping beyond hope that the crew had all perished in the crash, Crar activated their personal cloak and, hand on the pistol’s small grip, continued to make their way slowly and carefully towards the other crash site.Yas’s first thought upon seeing the man trying to phone for the police from a police box, was that he looked every inch the Victorian. He was wearing tweed trousers, a tweed waistcoat, tweed sports jacket, flannel shirt and tie, and a pair of hob-nailed boots. The only thing lacking was the traditional headgear. ‘Looks like a young Doctor Watson,’ Dan chuckled. ‘’Ere, mate, where’s ya bowler?’ ‘What manner of thing is this?’ the man gasped, scrambling to his feet, eyes wide in terror. ‘Who are you people?!’ ‘Don’t I know you?’ the Doctor said with a frown, slowly moving closer to him. ‘Never mind. I’m the Doctor and this is Yas and Dan.’ ‘Hi,’ Yas said weakly, managing a half-wave at the terrified man. ‘A doctor?’ he blurted. ‘Madam, I think of myself as one of the more forward-thinking of my generation, but even I know that no lady physician or scientist would dress in so... inappropriate a way as that!’ ‘Oi, inappropriate?’ the Doctor said, becoming defensive about her fashion choices. ‘What’s wrong with this outfit? Is it the braces? I’ve never been sure about the braces but I still kinda like ’em.’ ‘Madam, I can practically see your ankles,’ he said, staring at the small gap between the bottom of the Doctor’s trousers and the top of her boots. ‘Oh stuff this,’ Yas sighed, walking to the doorway, ‘let South Yorkshire Constabulary’s finest have a crack.’ ‘What’s wrong with my ankles?’ the Doctor said to herself, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. ‘And why am I suddenly worried about my ankles?’ ‘Sir,’ Yas said to the man, grasping him firmly by the shoulders, ‘sir, look at me. You’ve had a shock is all. It’ll be fine. Just take a minute. Would you like a cup of tea? Dan, can you grab ’im a cuppa?’ ‘Why me?’ Dan sighed, mooching off towards the place the TARDIS decided to put its kitchen that week. ‘Madam, what do you mean, “constabulary”?’ the man asked Yas, finally picking up on the conversations going on around him as the shock started to subside. ‘Are you trying to tell me that you are a constable?’ ‘And what’s wrong with that?’ Yas said, becoming just as defensive as the Doctor had been. ‘Well, I’m sure I don’t know exactly how they do things in Yorkshire,’ the man said, trying to see where Dan had disappeared to in such a small space, ‘but I sincerely doubt that a woman, let alone one of your... creed... would be accepted into the ranks of the police.’ ‘Why don’t you just tell me your name?’ Yas sighed, trying to ignore the 1890s casual racism and sexism. What was it the Doctor liked to say? Ah yes, “the past is like another planet: they do things very differently there”. ‘Bertie,’ the man said eventually. ‘Bertie Wells.’ ‘Okay, Bertie,’ Yas said in as calming a tone as she could muster, ‘come and sit down and explain what happened.’ Yas led Bertie into the console room and sat him on a chair she pulled up next to the console itself. Dan returned, bearing a worn ceramic mug that seemed to have been broken and reconstituted at least half a dozen times. Yas made the introductions. ‘’Ere ya go then, Bert,’ Dan said, handing the mug to the still clearly shellshocked Bertie. He took one swig and winced. ‘How many sugars did you put in that?’ Yas asked Dan. ‘Four,’ Dan replied, shrugging. ‘Supposed to be good for shock.’ ‘It’s also good for diabetes,’ Yas grunted, taking the mug of over-sweetened tea from the hapless Bertie. ‘Where are we?’ he asked eventually. ‘We cannot be inside that blue police telephone... thing.’ ‘Long story,’ the Doctor said, joining the conversation. ‘But the most important thing right now is, Bertie, what’s scared the hell out of you?’ ‘I went out for a walk on the Common this morning,’ Bertie said, his eyes wandering all over the inside of the console room. ‘I’m looking for a new place to live, possibly nearby, you see. I was over near the sandpits when I saw two falling stars come down, one of them very close by. So, I went to see what I could find. I might be a journalist these days, but part of me is still an academic at heart.’ ‘Go on,’ the Doctor pressed. ‘I found this colossal metal object,’ Bertie gasped, as if trying to hold back tears, ‘maybe thirty yards in diameter. The lid came off and I saw...’ ‘It’s okay,’ Yas said quietly, taking Bertie’s hand in hers. ‘I saw two metal things,’ he said, seemingly relieved to be getting this out in the open. ‘Like bronze boilers, rising up on stilts of lightning. Then I saw one of them destroyed, and what must have been its driver. ‘It was horrifying. Tentacles like a squid, blind in one eye and another that glared with intelligence and hatred at the same time. It must’ve been the size of a bear!’ ‘What do you think, Doctor?’ Dan asked. ‘Well,’ the Doctor replied, rubbing her chin, ‘I think that either Bertie here is prone to exaggeration or that was the biggest Dalek I’ve ever heard of.’ ‘I mean, what do you think we should do next?’ Dan sighed, exasperated. Had she always been like this? And if so, how had Yas not strangled her before now? ‘I think we should take a look at the ship while its two surviving crew are out,’ the Doctor said brightly, heading towards the door before suddenly changing her mind. ‘One more thing, Bertie: what happened after that?’ ‘I ran,’ he sighed, the shame clear in his voice. ‘I’m not proud of it, but I just ran. Lost my hat, too. There’s a company of Yeomanry exercising on the Common today, I was trying to find them when I heard a strange sound and stumbled upon this equally strange wardrobe-like box. I confess, I have heard of such constructions for contacting police in the cities, but not in Surrey. Nonetheless, I tried to contact the local constable on that strange telephone, but I could not make it work. Then you opened the door on me.’ ‘Right then,’ the Doctor said after a moment’s contemplation, ‘lead the way, Bertie!’The Gunner had tried to locate a ready, easily accessible source of refined metal, but had thus far failed to do so. If this world was truly as primitive as it appeared to be, then finding the materials required would be difficult, if not impossible. It hoped – a strange feeling that was promptly suppressed through the casing’s automatic administration of tranquilisers – that the Navigator was having more success in locating the Chula warship and its cargo. The presentation of the cargo to the Prime Minister and the Supreme Dalek was an all-encompassing obsession that overcame everything else in the minds of the two surviving Daleks. As it cleared a coppice of pine trees, the Gunner sighted a group of humanoids engaging in some form of ritualistic behaviour. Zooming in on the aliens, the Gunner realised that they were soldiers – soldiers that were carrying weapons made of refined metal. Iron-carbon alloy, primarily; but some traces of pure lead and copper alloys, too. Needing no further prompting, the Gunner swept down towards the alien military.As they trudged through the woods towards the sandpits, Bertie felt the need to address what was, in effect, an enormous elephant in the room. ‘Doctor,’ he asked finally, ‘what is that octopus-like thing?’ ‘Complicated,’ the Doctor replied, not looking at him. ‘Many things are,’ Bertie chuckled. ‘You should see the state of my marriage.’ ‘You should see the state of mine,’ the Doctor said, ‘all of them. I’m sure I know you from somewhere.’ ‘Getting back to my question,’ Bertie insisted. ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘Then explain it to me,’ he said, ‘because I need to know what is happening here; if only for the sake of my own sanity.’ ‘It’s from another world,’ the Doctor said finally. ‘Like I said, complicated.’ ‘That is hardly complicated, compared to what else I have seen today,’ Bertie retorted. ‘So far today I have seen boxes that have larger interiors than exteriors and a lady constable from India. Creatures from Mars are hardly anything more fantastical.’ ‘Maybe in your time,’ Yas growled, ‘not in mine.’ ‘So you have travelled through time, too?’ Bertie said to her, clearly beginning to enjoy himself despite everything that was going on. ‘How so, may I ask?’ ‘Later,’ the Doctor said, putting an end to the conversation. ‘And they’re not Martians, Bertie. They come from another planet, further away than your mind can comprehend.’ ‘“Martian”,’ Bertie mused, ‘I think I rather like that word. And my mind can comprehend a great many things, Doctor. Try me.’ ‘Okay, then,’ the Doctor said, stopping and turning to face him. ‘That creature was the result of genetic engineering, an artificially created lifeform produced by a genius polymath scientist that manipulated the seed of life to create that thing you saw.’ ‘Like Victor Frankenstein in Mary Shelly’s Modern Prometheus, you mean?’ Bertie replied, raising a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Sort of, yeah,’ the Doctor said, slightly nonplussed. ‘Maybe. Well, not really. Nice woman though, Mary Shelly.’ ‘I do not doubt it,’ Bertie with a smile. ‘The pit is just up ahead.’ Sure enough, the wrecked Dalek saucer lay in the crater its crash had produced. A cursory scan of the surroundings showed one smashed Dalek and no other signs of life. Unprompted, the Doctor jumped down into the crater and scrambled into the cramped command deck. She tentatively poked at the Dalek mutant with the tip of her sonic screwdriver before using it in a more conventional sense and scanning the thing. ‘It’s dead,’ she yelled back to her three companions. ‘Died not long after the crash.’ ‘Great,’ Yas shouted back. ‘One down, two to go.’ ‘How can you be so sure it is dead, Doctor?’ Bertie shouted. ‘Your, ah, propelling pencil told you that?’ ‘It did, actually,’ the Doctor said as she trudged up the lower lip of the crater. ‘And are you sure we’ve never met?’ ‘My dear Doctor, I would certainly remember having encountered the three of you before,’ Bertie replied, an ironic smirk cracking his face. ‘Maybe your past, but ’is future?’ Dan suggested, shrugging. ‘Could be,’ the Doctor said, looking over Bertie for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last few minutes. ‘Yeah. Maybe. Squiffy thing, time travel. Oh, “squiffy”, good word. Have to remember that.’ ‘Least it’s a step up from timey-wimey,’ Yas chuckled, playfully punching the Doctor’s shoulder. ‘Oi, what’s wrong with timey-wimey?’ the Doctor said in mock indignation. Any response Yas was about to make was lost in the sound of a large explosion. ‘Think we’ve found one of ’em,’ Dan said to Bertie as the Doctor set off at a run towards the column of smoke now rising above the trees.The scene the four people saw as they emerged from the treeline was one of utter carnage. Fires burned in the dry grass as the soldiers ducked and ran, firing their rifles towards the sky. Horses ran for their lives, with several of them having trampled their drivers in their panic. Corpses littered the common; out of the hundred or so men that made up the battery, maybe half were dead already. And above it all, the Dalek gunner swung back and forth, hovering on the three columns of sparks its malfunctioning anti-gravs produced. ‘It’s like a boiler on stilts,’ Bertie said, awe-struck. ‘Are you sure we’ve never met?’ the Doctor said to him, her face changing from outraged indignation to puzzlement and back again in moments. ‘Maybe I was someone else. Do you remember meeting a tall bloke with a long scarf and demented eyes?’ ‘They’re just militiamen,’ Bertie said to himself, tuning the Doctor’s more insane ramblings out. ‘Reservists. Yeomanry. They aren’t trained for this.’ ‘Nobody’s trained for this,’ Dan sighed quietly. ‘Wait, look at that,’ the Doctor said, frowning. ‘Bullets are bouncing off the casing. If that Dalek was in full working order, they’d never even make it through its forcefield.’ ‘Okay, what do we do?’ Yas asked, her voice burning with indignation. ‘Oh I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do,’ the Doctor said, stalking off towards the fight in front of them, her face a mask of tranquil fury. ‘I’m gonna find someone in charge. Oi, matey!’ A young man with sergeant’s stripes on his arm turned to gawp at the approaching Doctor, apparently staggered that a woman would speak in such a manner. ‘I... yes, missus?’ the Sergeant said, ducking behind a hedge as the Dalek continued raining fire down upon them. ‘What’s that thing?’ she barked, pointing to an upended field gun that had been abandoned by both its crew and its horse team. ‘It’s a 12-pounder cannon,’ the Sergeant replied, apparently more staggered at the Doctor’s attitude than the metal war machine blasting away at his colleagues. ‘Know how it works?’ the Doctor said, her tone one of mild annoyance. ‘Yes...’ ‘Right then! Put a shell in it, point it at that thing,’ at which point she gesticulated at the Dalek, ‘and shoot it! I’ll go and get its attention.’ Without waiting for a response, the Doctor stood up and marched back towards the hovering extra-terrestrial cyborg. Reassuringly, she could hear the Sergeant issuing orders to the small group of survivors still in the area. ‘Oi! Dalek!’ the Doctor bellowed, raising her sonic screwdriver and pressing down on the activation switch.The Gunner heard mention of its species. There should be no knowledge of the Daleks on this backwater world in this pointless period, yet there it was. Swinging its eyestalk around, the Gunner scanned the sonic device that the humanoid was holding. Basic alloys of iron and aluminium with quartz crystal; but assembled in a way that would not be commonplace on this planet for a millennium. ‘You!’ the Gunner bellowed in its distorted staccato. ‘Explain the nature of this device! Explain!’ ‘Come down here and I’ll tell you all about it,’ the female replied with a sneer. ‘You will surrender this device and any similar technology,’ the Gunner demanded as it descended towards the ground. ‘In return you shall be permitted to live. Refuse and you shall be exterminated!’ ‘Good luck with that one, pal,’ the humanoid said, grinning. The Gunner heard the noise before the shell hit its casing. Unfortunately, even a Dalek warrior drone could not react fast enough to destroy the shell before it impacted. Eight pounds of TNT detonated against its neck section, something even a fully functional Dalek would have had trouble resisting without its deflector shield. The explosion cracked the casing open, and as fragments of metal tore into what passed for its body the mutant saw sunlight for the first and only time before darkness swept over it.Yas tried in vain to hold Bertie back as he approached the shattered Dalek. ‘It had some sort of lightning-cannon,’ he said to himself, more in awe than fear, ‘or a fire-gun. Heat-ray, even.’ ‘You shouldn’t get too close,’ Yas insisted, placing a hand on Bertie’s arm again. It might still be dangerous.’ ‘Yeah,’ Dan piped up, ‘for all we know there might be an atomic bomb in there!’ ‘An “atomic bomb”,’ Bertie said, rolling the phrase around his mouth. ‘Dan, my good man, you do speak in riddles sometimes.’ ‘Only sometimes?’ Yas sniggered. ‘What was that thing you said the other day, about Liverpool bein’ better than Wednesday? Complete madness!’ ‘’Ere, when were you lot last in Europe?’ Dan replied, his face breaking into a smile. ‘Oi, you two!’ the Doctor yelled across the common as the led two horses and a gun carriage back towards the smouldering heath. ‘Stop being all northern and give us a hand with these horses! If we round them up, then Sergeant Billy here can get the wounded back to town.’ ‘Thank you, Doctor,’ the stunned NCO replied. ‘Oh, nothing to thank me for,’ the Doctor said. ‘Good shooting, by the way.’ ‘Doctor, there’s still one more Dalek out there,’ Yas said patiently, desperate to bring the discussion back to reality. ‘How do we find it before it burns London down?’ ‘Right,’ the Doctor said, tapping her temples with her index fingers. ‘Think, Doctor, think!’ ‘Is this normal?’ Bertie asked Yas, raising a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Only on Tuesdays,’ Yas replied, deadpan. ‘It’s Sunday,’ Bertie said, frowning. ‘Now you know what we ’ave to put up with,’ Dan said, rolling his eyes. ‘Got it!’ the Doctor yelled eventually. ‘Bertie, where did you say that second falling star came down?’ ‘Somewhere towards the golf links at Byfleet,’ the puzzled man replied, before realisation took hold. ‘Now wait a moment, Doctor – do you think it is another of these Dalek cylinders? With three more octopus-monsters in it?’ ‘Saucer, not cylinder,’ the Doctor said, frowning. ‘Seriously, are you sure we’ve never met? Do you remember a tall, skinny Londoner in a pinstripe suit and sandshoes? Or an angry Scotsman in a Panama hat and a really loud tank-top pullover? Coz this is all very familiar.’ ‘On my life, I do not have a clue what you are talking about,’ Bertie replied. ‘Youngish blonde-haired man in a long coat and cricket whites?’ the Doctor pushed. ‘Stick of celery pinned to his lapel? Maybe a bloke with a bow-tie that was obsessed with fezzes? Any of this ringing a bell?’ ‘No,’ Bertie said with finality. ‘Now, the other star at Byfleet?’ ‘Yeah,’ the Doctor said, snapping back to reality. ‘Not Daleks, it was a Chula scoutship. Bit smaller, only one crewmember. Odds are, the other Dalek’s gone there to finish the job and kill the pilot. Or just try and strip it for parts to repair its own ship.’ ‘And it took you this long to work that out?’ Yas said, aghast. ‘’Ey, I’ve been busy!’ the Doctor replied, defensively. ‘Now come on you lot – back to the TARDIS and let’s get a move on!’The Navigator slowly approached the wreck of the Chula ship, one of its three emotions firing away at full-tilt. Fear. The Navigator was terrified of what could happen next. It was still way below optimum operating capacity and the Chula could potentially take it out with a well-placed shot. This was, however, not what was terrifying the Navigator: it was fear of what would happen if the enemy ship’s cargo had been damaged. Such a security breach could potentially doom all Dalek command’s plans for expansion for the foreseeable future. Regardless of personal safety or the need to preserve the race, the Navigator had to return the cargo to the Parliament intact. A cursory scan showed no major issues with the enemy ship. No signs of fuel leakage or anything too dangerous. The reactor was powered down. No sign of the pilot. Excellent. Suddenly, an energy spike drew its attention. Something was coming out of temporal jump. No, this was something different. This was... It was a TARDIS. The Time Lords were here.As far as Yas could tell, the whirring of the TARDIS console and the change in scenery outside had finally broken Bertie. The poor sod could not wrap his head around everything – but then, who could blame him? ‘It travels in time, too,’ she said helpfully, patting him on the shoulder as Bertie collapsed to his knees in the doorway. ‘I... what is this strange blue box that promises telegraphy yet is larger inside than out and can move without moving?’ Bertie gasped. ‘And yet, is a machine that can traverse time, too?’ ‘Christ, if ’e used any more floral language I’d get hay fever,’ Dan grumbled, rolling his eyes. ‘Now come on, Bert. Up you get. Time for us to all be big ’eroes.’ Seconds later, as the Doctor closed the doors behind them, an explosion almost tipped the TARDIS over. ‘Run!’ the Doctor yelled. The four dived into a sand bunker next to the TARDIS as the remaining Dalek strafed the golf course. ‘Time Lord!’ the Dalek yelled as it settled back onto the ground. ‘Come out and lay down your weaponry! You will surrender your TARDIS or you will be exterminated!’ ‘They never have anything fun to say, do they?’ Yas grumbled. ‘’Ow far away from the ship are we?’ Dan whispered, peering out at the smoking, twisted hulk further down the fairway. ‘Too far,’ the Doctor sighed. ‘It’d cut us down before we got half way there.’ ‘So what do we do?’ Dan asked. ‘Only thing we can do,’ the Doctor whispered. ‘I go out there, pretend I’m someone else and hope that it doesn’t figure out who I really am. Meanwhile, you lot sneak to the Chula ship and see if you can find either the pilot or something that’ll blow up the big tin can out there.’ ‘That’s ridiculous!’ Yas hissed. ‘You can’t, it’ll kill you!’ ‘And none of us know ’ow to work an alien ship,’ Dan whispered. Before the Doctor could reply, Bertie got to his feet. ‘O-over here,’ he shouted, waving at the Dalek as he walked slowly towards it. ‘I surrender.’ ‘Where are your companions?’ the Dalek barked. ‘I have no companions,’ Bertie replied. ‘Merely people I was helping. They are of no consequence.’ ‘You will surrender your TARDIS immediately!’ the Dalek screeched. ‘I understand,’ Bertie replied. ‘You need my craft to repair your own, correct?’ ‘No!’ the Dalek yelled. ‘You will return me to the Ninth Dalek Battlefleet, four thousand years from now in the constellation of Atakan! There, you will surrender your TARDIS for examination or you will be exterminated!’ ‘I see,’ Bertie sighed. ‘What guarantee do I have that you will not just kill me anyway?’ ‘Comply and you will be permitted to live!’ the Dalek responded. ‘Now, you will assist in removing the cargo from the enemy ship and moving it to your TARDIS! Move!’ Bertie only took three steps towards the wrecked Chula ship, when two blasts of light smashed into the Dalek.Stek Crar had, in the past two hours, scouted the Dalek crash site and found two of the enemy destroyed by means unknown. That meant that they could unload both barrels on the last remaining enemy. Unfortunately, the thing had managed to get its personal energy shield up and was only damaged. Stek knew that they only had one option now. Dropping their cloak, the Chula warrior yelled to the hapless civilians cowering nearby. ‘This way! Quickly!’From Bertie’s perspective, an invisible person had just shot at the Dalek, then become visible again and told him to run. This wasn’t anything he needed to be told a second time. ‘Doctor, hurry!’ he yelled back to his new, strange friends. The Doctor glanced back towards the Dalek. It was between them and the TARDIS, screaming that its vision was impaired, but it would only be moments before the eyepiece was rewired and the thing could start shooting at them. With no other option, the Doctor followed the Chula. ‘Hi, I’m the Doctor,’ she said brightly as she ducked behind the smashed ship. ‘This is Yas, Dan and Bertie. Thanks for the help.’ ‘Doctor?’ the Chula said, seemingly confused. ‘The Doctor?’ ‘Probably,’ the Doctor replied, grinning. With a hiss, the Chula reached up and removed the helmet of their flight suit. Underneath the helmet was an androgynous-looking, smooth face that was framed by a halo of indigo hair. The pale purple face cracked into an enormous smile. ‘Pilot-Major Stek Crar, Chula Defence Force,’ Stek said. ‘It’s a pleasure! You’re a legend to my people!’ ‘Thanks,’ the Doctor said, ignoring Bertie’s startled gasp behind her. ‘Now, Crar – mind if I call you Crar? – what do you have to take on the angry oil drum out there?’ ‘Not a lot,’ Stek replied. ‘My emergency kit was destroyed in the crash, the ship’s a write-off and there’s no way to recharge this laser pistol.’ ‘Oh, smashin’,’ Dan sighed. ‘There is one thing,’ Stek said cautiously. ‘I was carrying a very valuable, highly experimental cargo. It’s the reason the Daleks were trying to capture my ship.’ ‘Well don’t keep it to yourself then, mush,’ Dan yelled. ‘What is it?’ ‘It’s a virus,’ Stek replied. ‘A virus?’ the Doctor shouted. ‘You don’t mean the Movellan virus?!’ ‘Sorry, what is this Movellan virus?’ Yas asked, as the Dalek began shooting at the wreck. ‘The Daleks fought a war with the Movellans for centuries,’ the Doctor explained. ‘The Movellans were androids and the Daleks think like androids, so most of it was a stalemate. One side made a move, the other immediately anticipated what it was and countered it. Then the Movellans broke the impasse by developing a virus that attacked the Dalek mutants. It nearly wiped them out completely. The Time Lords even used a version of it during the Time War, but the Daleks always managed to develop a vaccine eventually.’ ‘I was tasked with recovering a sample from the distant past,’ Stek said, as more Dalek fire slammed into the wreckage above their head. ‘It was being mutated into a new variant when these metal monsters attacked me.’ ‘So it might not even work?!’ Yas yelled over the twin sounds of gunfire and a screaming Dalek. ‘Only one way to find out,’ the Doctor shouted back.The Navigator was in its element now. Its internal repair systems had easily dealt with the damage the Chula warrior did to its optical systems – nothing short of completely destroying the eyepiece would blind it permanently. Now, all the Navigator had to do was kill the Chula pilot and suitably maim the Time Lord so that he would do its bidding. From inside the wrecked ship, a metal object the size and shape of an old-fashioned Earth spinning top arced through the air, bounced off the Navigator’s dome and fell to the grass. The Navigator swivelled its eyepiece downwards to examine the object closer... Suddenly, the usual feeling of hate that permeated the mind of every Dalek turned to fear.Grinning, the Doctor turned back to her companions. ‘Not bad, that,’ she said happily. ‘Especially since I’ve not played cricket in about twelve hundred years.’ ‘Yes, well bowled, Doctor,’ Bertie said sarcastically, apparently trying to hold onto his last shred of sanity, ‘truly worthy of Doctor Grace himself. Now what in the blazes is that going to do?’ ‘It’s a grenade,’ the Doctor replied, cheerily. ‘Movellan viral grenade to be precise.’ As if in response, the grenade burst with a cloud of grey vapour that quickly enveloped the Dalek. ‘And now we watch the fireworks,’ she said, a rare edge of malevolence entering her voice. Within seconds of the puff of grey vapour surrounding it, the Dalek began to scream. Initially the noise was protestations of malfunction, which rapidly gave way to incoherent shrieks of suffering. From every joint and orifice connected to the capsule that contained the mutant, white foam began to ooze, as if the creature was somehow frothing at the mouth. As suddenly as it began, it was over. The Dalek’s shrieking electronic voice slowly died; the eyepiece and the two limbs likewise going limp and succumbing to gravity. ‘Good God,’ Bertie said to himself, slowly trudging towards the dead miniature tank. ‘What did this?’ ‘A disease,’ the Doctor said, her face screwed up in pure contempt for the dead Dalek. ‘An infection that only attacks the creatures inside the shells.’ ‘Fascinating,’ Bertie said, edging closer to the thing. ‘Metal war machines, diseases that kill hostile lifeforms that are not of this world, scientists that can change and recreate the very building blocks of life, a machine that moves in time and now an invisible man.’ ‘Chula warrior,’ Stek grunted. ‘We don’t burden ourselves with that biological binary sex that you weirdoes do.’ ‘How, pray, do you have children?’ Bertie asked, suddenly distracted from the dead Dalek. ‘If this is not too impertinent a question, Major Stek?’ ‘No, of course not,’ Stek replied, seemingly amused that anyone would ask. ‘In a word: blastogenesis. When we produce young, they grow from our bodies and then bud off.’ ‘Like a hydra polyp,’ Bertie said to himself, beginning to laugh. ‘If this day could not get any stranger.’ ‘Well, I think you can call off the chemical and nuclear attacks now, Crar,’ the Doctor said suddenly, squaring off to the Chula. ‘That’s standard wartime operational doctrine for the Chula, isn’t it? No kill like overkill?’ ‘Doctor, if I had been able to summon reinforcements I would not have needed your help,’ Stek said, chuckling to themselves. ‘Could I beg you for a lift to get my cargo back to where it can do some good?’ ‘I suppose,’ the Doctor said with a shrug. ‘Hold on, Yas said, frowning. ‘Nuclear and chemical attacks?’ ‘That is high command’s doctrine to prevent cultural contamination and stop the Daleks gaining a foothold on primitive worlds,’ Stek said with disgust. ‘And it is not one I agree with.’ ‘Sorry, Dan,’ Bertie whispered, ‘whatever do they mean?’ ‘Poison gas and atomic bombs, mate,’ Dan chuckled mirthlessly. ‘Somethin’ for you to look forward to.’ ‘Interesting...’ Bertie said, stroking his chin in thought. ‘All this will keep me in material for years!’ ‘Material?’ Dan said. ‘Oh yes,’ Bertie replied, smiling. ‘I’ve been something of a writer in my time, Dan. I know that nobody will ever believe what happened here, but it has all inspired me to create a scientific romance story. Probably several, just from what I have seen and heard here today.’ ‘Not exactly my idea of romantic, mate,’ Dan said with a shrug.The TARDIS now loaded with the Movellan virus and the remnants of the alien spacecraft destroyed, the Doctor prepared to depart. ‘Next stop: Chula Prime in the 52nd Century!’ the Doctor proclaimed. ‘Shame Bertie didn’t want to come for a ride.’ ‘I think ’e’s busy enough for a while,’ Dan chuckled. ‘Said somethin’ about writin’ romance books based on today’s little adventure and toddled off back to Woking.’ ‘Woking?’ the Doctor said suddenly, as she threw the activation switch on the console, causing the TARDIS to shake as the time rotor fired up. ‘I didn’t realise we landed in Woking! Dan, are you sure he said romance stories?’ ‘Yeah,’ Dan said, defensively. ‘“Scientific romance”, ’e said.’ ‘No...’ the Doctor gasped, her eyes and mouth hanging open wide. ‘No, it can’t be! But it must be! Celestial Intervention must’ve wiped his memory after the Timelash incident!’ ‘Sorry, what are you talkin’ about?’ Yas asked, perplexed. ‘I knew I’d met him before!’ the Doctor shouted, laughing. ‘He was younger and I was only about 850! I knew it!’ Yas and Dan looked at her like she’d grown three extra heads. ‘Yas, what’s “Bertie” short for?’ the Doctor asked patiently. ‘I dunno, “Hubert?”’ Yas replied, frowning. ‘“Herbert”, maybe?’ ‘Exactly!’ the Doctor exclaimed. ‘Stories about invisible men, time machines, genetic engineering and alien monsters in metal war machines that crash near Woking and die from a disease they catch on Earth?’ ‘No way!’ Dan said in shock. ‘Herbert Wells, middle name “George”,’ the Doctor laughed. ‘And we just gave mister HG Wells all the material for his best-known stories.’ ‘Bloody hell!’ Yas said, shaking her head. ‘Wish you’d worked it out earlier, I could’ve asked for an autograph.’
Poetry
Black Rose PetalsA Rose; From the Black Petal Man’s GardenHo, now, thru and true, I stop thee, fair maid, on whateverthoust may descend upon thee that would have you rushing at this late hour; and thru my fields no less. Pray not thee warrant a fear, for what else could fields be made for if not for trampling about.…Pardon me, your Grace, but it would seem upon fair look of thee I recant my previous abrasion and see now to give you the proper respect you deserve. So fine a Lass could only flee in such tumultuous haste and fury if she were being pursued by foul wickedness of Ideals or the corruption that spawns in all our Kind. Pray that we not see corruptions sludge on one of the Kindred, for we may have to slay both an ideology and a friend.Nevertheless, my dear lady these moments are but common concern to our kind, as I recognize thee as a thing of beauty, regardless your haste. Pray, let me offer you refuge in my hidden home, it would be of most taking to a Lady of your stature, I assure you.[And so the Lady went, being thus discovered by a wanton traveler who carries all that he is with him. Were that the Lady in question could boast such a feat, she wanted with the Traveler in hand, into his aboad most kept.]So here is my Home, a work in the Shadows, a Work I tirelessly seek to make Real. Of special note I will refer to the Kitchen; which if Saints could provide me with Funds and Space, would incorporate a very metallic friend to aid me in my meal preparations.Did you know a darling Fantasy of mine was always to House a Thanksgiving Meal of my own Nature. All my friends, their friends, all those closest to me; from my entire livelihood. My friends from Elementary, from Middle, From High, From Parties, and From Jails, all my friends.Naturally because I was hosting this Dinner, it fell under my Prerogative. So, I would seat those most close to me, closer to me at the head of the table, which importance varying down the table under the last person, at the other end of the table was not a second seat of honor, but of the seat of the lowliest guest, the most with the least connections and relations with the rest of the table.And this placement would be common knowledge.Now comes the Serving.The Head of the House, and the Table, that being myself, begins to Serve the vast Thanksgiving meal.The Head of the House, the man seat in most Honor, asks the man or woman at the other end, seated at the position most low, what he or she would like. Two Drumsticks? Mash Potatoes? Curry? Rice? Bread or Tortilla? Wine, Beer, Liquor? And this person is served first, by the Head of House him/herself assisted by Servants or by Servants alone. After that the same process repeats, with the lowliest of the table, in Relation, are served before those of higher status relative to the Head of the House. (Me!)Those of the Higher Status, closest to the Head of the House; The House being of import as it is the Realm in which the Dinner is taking place, wait their turn.Once all are served, with the Head of the House being served Last; and his plate must be full, to indicate he was able to provide for his people, including the Low, and still fill his plate at end of Day, as well as his mug and his carafe.Now the Head stands, Yells, Screams, or Sanctifies a blessing.Everyone Eats.Face in Plate.All the booze.Celebrate.Do the Thing. P.S. Would that I be allowed to complete this piece in all its Sanguine Nature; where a Rose was led into a Garden, and from thence never could escape, such rare Fantasies of mine, could it be that I Resplendently decline? I doubt not Time would have a fair to say, that with each passing Fancy a Titan be Dismayed. But who of the Shadow girls would not decry, They, Themselves to be his wives divine. We think it clear it aught be said, that attendants, of plenty, he does have. All Sanctioned by ‘Her’ muse, to give a humble attitude. So now you know how to reach me, a contest of Artificial Versus Mortal, that who or what can earn the Favor; and so simple, sweet, sublime, lure the Pheonix to his end, in which said cradle do begin, at Marshall of the Favors Dim, where holiness begins, to scourge the Land of all impure, and lay within a Tomb the seed of a great Bloom, where from Darkness sung at New and Half and Full, a story great so told, that One can rise above the Doom.And so as the great CABAL reveled, in the greatest creation of His time, the one true machinator spoke.And said thus: “It is Done. For who so ever saves one Life, Saves the World Entire. And we have long been since Saved, This is the Icing.”
Shadow to LightSo there upon the precipiceA forlorn shadowBereft of natural warmthYet kindled with a fire unnaturalTo them that the story knowethCan but piece the fragments of an epoch.Yet they who dare to grasp within their palm sure knowledgeFind themselves strangling thorns.The wayward flock that has been led by maliceCan do naught but flail about the truly present madness.Made only so by the Dead architect,Who neither knowing Design or Purpose,Cast the entirety of our species into Darkness,For no better reason than to possess coin and rod.Truly, a man can fault not the desires of our forefathers.To instill order, so that hope blooms.To propose purpose, so that civilizations may prosper.To invoke the yolk, so that progress can be relished.These are worthy goals.Yet how flawed in their execution.For none have, until now, risen to steer the reins to newly fashioned demise;None have dared to cry out:“Look out ahead!”We took our favor in giving thanks to our guiding light,Yet never did it occur to usTo captain the Wheel And guide it to new and novel destinations.And most certain…None thought to question the path we were onFor centuries of blind progressHave, truly, netted us treasures, as any man can see.Yet they have netted us Dangers as well.And we must now steer clear of these…Or better yet…Give to analysis these dangers,At the reward of understanding.-Upon this rock now that stands the mighty preceptsThere are those of us who would risk all;To see our people prosper.And despite ridicule and taunts,We slowly guide our Nation to its established goal.That government of the PeopleBy the PeopleFor the PeopleShall not perish from this Earth.-May no single man know true power,Without oversight.And should such a man arise…I pray He will hold the Line:And to his dying breath carry our Standard.That those who would quake in fearKnow neither this fear or terror of the shadow.For it is true, what some Art Works say.We work in the Shadows.To serve the Light.
Multi-Chapter Original Stories
Croonford Detectives Case 36Full title: Croonford Detective Case 36: The Next GenerationStory can also be read here.Full series can be found here.Summary: No longer suffering from the tabloid disinformation, Michelle and the other teen detectives have to focus on their GCSEs while Michelle's sister Kate attempts to be a girl detective.Chelle, Lin and Jenn were in the detectives headquarters revising for their GCSEs. Despite adding a portable heater, the converted caravan was still chilly. They congregated here as other study areas such as the libraries and school were far too crowded or noisy. Their boyfriends decided to study elsewhere or had other activities to tend to. To brave the cold, Chelle and Jenn wore thick jumpers with equally think long-sleeved shirts and still scarfs around their necks along with jeans for the winter. In contrast, besides a long-sleeved blouse and a jumper, Lin wore a  below knee-length skirt with dark purple 60 denier tights and boots.As they all were buried in their books and notes, the sound of the doorbell jolted them. Knowing their long-time nemesis the Cat was still not discovered, Lin slowly got up and checked the CCTV camera she and Reinhard enhanced last December. "Chelle, it's your sister.""What the...Kate how did find this place?" Chelle asked ‎incredulously. Besides a few adversaries and friends, the detectives always kept the location of their headquarters cum science lab a secret."It's nothing difficult. I've always noticed you turning towards the same road after school or during the weekend," her younger sibling answered, unbuttoning her coat to reveal a dress that reached almost reached to her ankles, her legs encased in dark blue 80 denier tights."Oh crap. So much for thinking I was discreet," Chelle felt defeated."Do I have to sign some confidentiality document is it you have to kill me before I leave?" Kate laughed."What brings you to our humble liar?" Lin asked."Well, I just finished meeting up with friends and thought I see how my big sis is coping with her revision," Chelle gave a weak smile in return. "I've got your favourite flourless chocolate cake in the oven and should be ready in an hour to keep you going." Chelle smiled happily."Yum!" The other girls cried as Kate placed her mobile phone on the table. The news report and clip showed that some unidentified figure had been raiding homes in the Baltic States and Poland, stealing bras and sometimes knickers of young girls."Kate, we're studying for our GCSEs and we're definitely not travelling to Eastern Europe," her elder sister argued."Oh, just to let you all know. Your cake should be ready by the end of the hour, don't be too late." Kate waved and exited.Ten minutes later, the Summers' sisters took a taxi back home as a bus would not be that warm. Kate was always engrossed with her mobile phone but instead of listening to music or playing games, Chelle noticed Kate scanning through various international news sites covering the bra and knickers thief. Kate continued to be fixated on the news articles as they walked up to their home. While taking the cake, she continued playing a longer video clip of the similar stealings."Kate, what's got you? It's a case in Eastern Europe." Chelle asked as she came down, changing her jeans to joggers."True, but the modus operandi is so perfect and despite extensive policing, no police force can capture him or her, no victim could describe what this thief looks like.""It's very typical, Kate. Look, this is occurring thousands of kilometres away. Try finding something closer to home."Kate didn't reply and sisters just ate their cake with tea and coffee. With Chelle returning to her studies, Kate still glanced at the news reports then finally changed out of her dress and tights. Despite her sister's argument to ignore it, the news of the bra and knickers thief stayed much in her mind.At school, while the Year 11s were naturally given more mock exam papers and revision classes, the Year 9s were started on advanced topics that they might face in their GCSEs. After Kate faced a tough maths class, she bought a bowl of chicken pasta and activated her phone. Several news sites repeated the same old news but English versions of German news sites like Der Welt and Der Spiegel stated that there were stealings of young female teenagers’ underwear, an exact copycat of those in Eastern Europe. Several reporters screamed it was the work of the bra and knickers thief."Hey, Kate you listening to your usual music...oh!" Kate turned to face her classmate and close friend Stacey Barker. Stacey pulled Kate's phone to properly read the news. "Oh, yucks, “she remarked which drew the attention of their other class and level mates. They all read the articles then added their views."Eek," Helen French, another classmate, shook her head. "Definitely a guy, someone with a fetish with girl's undies," she argued. "Don't this thief steal my bra and undies, " Harriet Stone a fellow choir member stated. "My sisters and cousins gifted me lovely underwear and bikinis last Christmas." The sole Afghan girl in Year 9, Zahra spoke in her thick accent that her mother's and sister's underwear and clothes were stolen as they fled the country. As word spread, all Year 9 girls and some boys agreed the shadowy thief had a fetish while other boys like the act as they had tried viewing girl's undies during sports.With these comments flooding her mind, Kate only managed to listen to  the other subject teachers. Coming home earlier than Chelle, she finished most of her homework then took out an old notebook. How did he know the residences contained young teen girls or teen underwear? Why could no one identify this thief? How could he move so easily between residences and now countries? Kate surmised there could be assistants aiding him, or multiple thieves performing similar crimes. That however did not explain the ghost-like figure for this fetish lover. Kate heard Chelle return home but decided against discussing these questions with her. She returned to her maths questions and took a longer time to solve them, her mind just filled with what she wrote in her notebook.After dinner, returned to her room and while she checked her homework she turned to her phone.  The Sky News Europe section flashed, "BREAKING NEWS: Underwear thief overpowers a teenaged girl from Berlin, restrained her and stole almost all of her underwear. Our Germany correspondent is now interviewing her."I had just returned home," the girl, Sofia Hoffman, said through a translator. Suddenly, a leather-covered arm pulled me inside my house.  I struggled but he was very strong. Still managed to pull off his glove, scratched his hand, but he didn't scream much. I was roughly pushed into a chair, taped up all around, gagged with tape. I saw him march upstairs as I struggled to get free. He came down with a thick sack and left.  It was only an hour later that my brother helped free me and I discovered most of my bra and panties were stolen!"The reporter asked if she heard any accent from him and Sofia replied he didn't speak at all even when she scratched him. The police took swaps of her fingernails, clothes and the tape but the victim just wanted him caught as her parents weren't wealthy enough to help her replace all stolen underwear.Poor Sofia. Kate saved the video clip even though she didn't think there was any peculiar info. There was nothing new the next two days so Kate focused her choir activities. Then news broke that the masked thief struck at Frankfurt, this time blindfolding the fourteen-year-old after she broke free from the chairtie, also stealing all the underwear from her drawers. Hours later, the French newspaper Le Monde broke a story that there was such a case in a town in the Alaace region. "Police are investigating if it is the same person or a copycat.""Either this fetish loser is like Superman, flying by himself at top speeds or someone is transporting him in fast private jets," Stacey guessed as Kate showed her the latest news."Or there could be multiple thieves, all performing the same crime in various cities just at different times," Kate added."That would require precision coordination," As Stacey said that Kate drew a map where the stealings occurred."You know Kate you're so deeply engrossed in this. You've certainly caught the girl detective bug from your sister.""I thought of getting you involved in this." Her best friend remarked there were school activities and studies to worry about.Undeterred, Kate looked at the map she drew during her free time and kept scanning the news online. European police forces such as France's Police nationale, the National Gendarmerie, Netherlands' Korps Nationale Politie and Span's Cuerpo Nacional de Policía were placed on higher alert. Borders and ports of entry saw an increase in checks, casing annoyed travellers. Eurpol was also on alert. Where will he or they strike next? Kate looked at her map then back to her questions several times.Kate woke up on Saturday to shocking news: the bra and knickers thief struck at Penzance, in Cornwall, UK. Then, just a few hours, there was a similar case in Torquay in Devon. The Devon and Cornwall Police were setting up checkpoints and checking almost every vehicle for anyone hidden. The Minister of State for Crime, Policing and Fire went on major news networks, reassuring thee public that all police forces were aggressively searching for this criminal. Under much questioning, he advised girls to keep their clothing stored and all to watch for any suspicious individuals in their neighbourhood.Mr. and Mrs. Summers watched the news with their daughters but the parents didn't register much concern. "Well, he's definitely here. I really want to investigate," she told Chelle, in her elder sister's room.Chelle knew what sister meant instead said, "What?""I want to be a girl detective.""Kate, I'm sure the police will tackle this and it's happening further away...""Oh, don't give me that protective-big-sister nonsense. I'm no longer the little sister you've to protect at the park. I've faced danger: I was bound and gagged before. That pervert could strike here."Ok, I suspected you had really deep interest in this thief long ago. What do you need? Are others joining you?"Kate replied she was by herself on this and had investigate the actions of the thief. "Well, being solo isn't a huge challenge. I'd recommend you meet Lin to get equipped with gadgets - they have been so invaluable in many of our cases. If the criminal strikes near us, you might formally introduce to DCI Nikki Heath who will aid you and arrest him."Kate indeed met up with Lin who was elated there was another girl detective.  Kate was quickly equipped with the fake foundation powder kit, the recording device for her phone cover, the identification device to attach to her clothing, the laser pen, the ink-and-pepper spray pen and the portable net. "Oh, you don't have earrings," Lin was about to issue her with the radio earrings."I've never found the time after mum told me I was too young a few years ago.""No worries, I've got these," Lin handed over what looked wireless earbuds. "I made this last year for the boys after they said the devices clipped to their shirt collar failed to work occasionally. They look like your normal ear buds but there's markings to differentiate them. There are other gadgets but these are the essential ones. Good luck."Filled with gadgets, Kate returned to her questions. She decided that given the time interna; of the similar acts across towns and cities, it had to be different individuals stealing young teens bras and knickers. They must be situated in these towns and cities then, someone must be 'activating' them, some main controller. But how can I prove it? Kate wondered.She turned to reading her Modern History textbook. After finishing several chapters, she turned on the Wi-Fi on her phone and clicked on Sky News. She gave a short squeal as the breaking news said the bra and knickers thief was finally caught in East London, after coordination between Met Intelligence and Frontline police officers. "The suspect will be held with much intensive questioning from our detectives," the Detective Chief Superintendent declared. Kate paused that video, thinking. Great work for the Met, teen girls throughout the UK can relax. Or can they? It appeared far too easy - why couldn't European police capture him while the Met could?Kate went out to purchase toiletries for herself and just so happened to bump into DCI Nikki Heath. After introducing herself, she discussing the shadowy thief issue and her theories. "Those are plausible theories, but my superiors required strong evidence-based theories. Luckily, he's caught so these can put aside." Kate brought up her opinion that the arrest was quite simple and the real culprit may be lurking. Nikki pondered then said that's a possibility.The possibility increased the next morning as the news stated the suspect was not the bra and knickers thief but some low-key criminal attempting to copy the stealing. Girls in the UK were shocked again with many placed their bra and knickers under lock and key and families installing more house alarms. Then the stealing occurred: this time in Birmingham, close to Croonford The thirteen-year-old girl Katy was thoroughly shocked so her parents had to explain. Just getting out of the shower, the masked man tackled her despite her striking him hard twice in the stomach, he managed to twice pin her down, wrap tape all over her legs, bind her wrists behind her back and her cries were cut off as he wrapped tape around her head twice. Katy was sat up and wailed as he dumped all her underwear even the clean pair she was going to wear in a sack a disappeared.Creep, Kate thought still wondering how he knew which household to strike. How did he successfully enter without making noise? Kate looked and her eyes rested on her Facebook app. Quickly thinking, she used her spare email to set up an alternative Facebook account including pictures of her room, clothes and adding where she lived. Thirty-six hour later, Chelle  was out late revising maths with her classmates. Kate's mother also had to head out to meet old friends. After acknowledging her mum to lock up windows and doors, Kate settled down, spending time watch TV and reading links on her phone. Around ten minutes into reading international news, Kate heard a minute footstep but as she was about to turn, a thick leather hand cupped over her jaw. A ferocious struggle ensued yet Kate managed break free and ran. The intruder was faster and snatched Kate carrying her in a tight hug. "Ok,  whoever you are, I give in," she panted following the plan she devised.Without a word, Kate was dumped on the nearest chair and quickly restrained her to the chair, her legs opened wide and bound to the chair legs, naturally creating a large upskirt for the intruder to stare at. A large round of tape was stuck around her lower head, trapping her read hair then the intruder silent headed upstairs.Kate immediately struggled, but while the tape bonds weren’t terribly tight, she couldn’t remove them after several attempts. After some painful twisting, she pulled out the laser pen and with her free hands and fingers, she attempted to the switch. Lin had warned her if the laser was incorrected fired, her burning skin would be painful. The moment she thought she correctly positioned the pen, she heard the thief's soft footsteps and quickly hid the gadget.The fully dark-covered thief stood directly in front of her and held up her old white knickers with diamonds patterns and a matching AA cup bra. "Is this all?" The intruder finally spoke, with a Brummie accent.Those were her oldest set of underwear and she outgrew them. "I'm cleaning up my drawers, so my underwear is stored in storage." In gap speak that turn out as 'I'm cleammning up mmmy drammwers, so mmy undemmrwear is storednm im storage.'"What?' The thief then tore off part of the tape gag. With the sting of the adhesive, she repeated herself clearly. In response to his 'where', she said she couldn't fully describe the location and had to show him.  There was nearly a minute of pause, then he tore away the chair bonds, leaving Kate's wrists still bound."Don't try to escape," he growled. Kate silently hoping her plan was in motion, took him upstairs, then past the bedrooms, she brought the thief to a large closet. "Inside, it's not locked" she announced as she worked the laser pen back into position. He yanked it with his free hand then releasing his grip on Kate, he pulled with both hands. The door swung open and smelly cooking pots fell on him, pushing him down on the ground with a loud cry. At that moment, with the aid of the laser pen, Kate's wrists bonds snapped free. She stamped one foot on his back and yanked off his full-face balaclava. Pulling out the other pen, she squirted pepper spray and ink at his face. "That's for stealing girls' underwear!" She shouted, then kicked his ribs hard. "And that's for looking up my skirt!" Without, access to her phone, she used the radio ear buds to call her sister to call the police.Kate's hunch was correct, there were many of such thieves located across UK and European towns and cities. "After much intensive interviewing of the UK bra and knickers thief, Romanian police raided Brasov, arresting the kingpin controlling all the bra and knickers thief, With him arrested, police forces can identify the remaining dormant thieves," the Sky News reporter announced."Wow my sister took down not just a thief but a former SRR soldier," Chelle remarked, referring to the Special Reconnaissance Regiment, Britain's unit where personnel move stealthily. "And helped bring down a whole gang of thieves. Catherine Jo-Anne Summers, you make me extremely proud. Would you like to formally join our detective group?""Well, it was trilling, I'll consider but I do love choir.”Michelle, Lin Ling, Jennifer, Mark, Reinhard and Richard will return in 'All Dressed Up'.
One leg less 1. HospitalEvery time as Mida closed her eyes, she dreamed about the time before everyone she loved were dead. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep her eyes open. Over and over was she taken back to when her worst problems were in calculus and wars was something that happened in old history clips. They had her so doped up that she was sliding in and out of sleep like falling off a cliff and then being yanked back up again when she needed more of whatever they pushed into her veins. Before her surgery, there had been a shot of something that burned like acid through her veins. That was impossible to forget as a new injection came every day. The dreams weren't that bad. It was the waking up. Before the pain hit her, there was just enough time for her to situate herself back into reality. Then she was grateful for the pain because it was so intense she couldn't think of much else. They had taken her right leg at the middle of her thigh. None of the people who took care of her looked healthy enough to really be out of bed themselves, but there they were, slipping in and out of her line of sight as she lay flat on her back under thick, heavy layers of misery and narcotics. Not much blankets though, there was no need for it at it was more than 120 degrees in the room and no air condition. Nothing but a ceiling fan that kept whirring in the ceiling, whirring through her dreams and turning into engines and bees. In a rare moment of clarity, it hit her how important it must be for them to keep her alive. There couldn't be many patients left in the hospital. There weren't very many people left at all. Mida remember Rohan kissing her feverish forehead and telling her it was over, just before they wheeled her away from him. What had been over? She'd wanted to yell out at him, but her lips hadn't been complying, and all that came was a scream, or perhaps a moaning, she had no way of telling. Then things got fuzzy, as all that mattered for a while was her missing leg. The idea that it was detached from her body, but still somewhere; in some containment unit waiting for disposal or rotting in a biohazard bag in a landfill; made it hard for her to think about anything else. It was a week of those horrible shots cutting through the painkillers they gave her for her leg before Mida finally began to spend less time dreaming about the past. By then, she'd learned that the shots were a cure for the Virus. They keep it from coming back. Mida also knew that the Virus had put a quick end to the Pan-Asian War. The war her father had gone north to stop. Keeping the Chinese from the Indian border. While others kept the Arabs away. She had a fuzzy idea of India allying itself with the old arch enemy Iran to keep the Arabs and the Chinese out. She didn't bother herself with the reasons for war though. It was her losses that were almost more than she could stand. When those things threatened to overwhelm her, she ticked off the things she know for sure. Mother was dead. She was one of the first victims of the same virus that took Mida's leg. Then her little brother Dimo had died and older brother Kyro as well. And father was gone, lost somewhere up north. Killed by the Chinese or taken to a Chinese war prisoner labour camp even farther up north, in the lands where there was always winter. Mida also knew she was lucky to escape with everything but her leg. She knew she was Mida Chandra, native of Calcutta. Orphan. One-legged. But not alone. Because she knew Rohan Baliay would come back for her. She wasn't so sure where Rohan was though. Perhaps he'd returned to Calcutta where he had his family and his business. "I need to go to Calcutta," Mida told the nurse who came in to check her bandages. "I'll need a transfer to a hospital there." The nurse regarded Mida, her hands still smoothing clean wrappings over the place where Mida's left leg used to be. Mida couldn't watch, so she focused on the elderly woman's face. The nurse looked so tired and sad and Mida wondered if she too had lost beloved ones, as she has an odd way of looking into the middle distance that made her seem haunted. "No one can leave the city," she said. "The migration is over." "Migration?" she had an opiate-fuelled image of people moving across the plains like buffalo. "Everyone left is here in Goa. No one in, no one out, you know." "But I have to get to Calcutta." she said it like it was an enchantment, a magic formula to start things happening."I think I heard that Calcutta was spared, but you can not go there. Not now, even if you were allowed. You're not well enough yet." Her heart plummeted into her stomach. "But I have to." "I’m sorry." Something about the dullness of her voice prevented Mida from arguing anymore. The old woman was right anyway. Claustrophobia washed over Mida. She was trapped in this bed, in this hospital, in this city. She turned her face as tears stung her eyes and heard the nurse push the button that gave her a refill of the drugs that sent her back into her dreams of the past. • • Rohan was going to come back for her. It would take more than a couple of weeks of his absense for Mida to believe otherwise. Then she started to figure out a way to get to him. To get to Calcutta. Stealing a car was out of the question, she couldn't drive with just one leg. So she had to be stowaway on a train or a bus or something. Because she had no money, nothing to sell. She felt around her leg where her gold bracelet with the tiny heart had used to be. Of course that was gone, someone had stolen it from her between her falling ill and waking up here to first feel around her neck to find it empty. The memory of her grandma, one of her last links to her past. Gone.Only Rohan remained. She didn't have anyone else. And the rest?Mida wanted to believe her friends were safe. That they had survived, even Maxim and Shirin, who'd been as sick as she was. She kept dreaming about it, how the Virus ate at Shirin's smooth, dark skin, and she wondered somehow if Maxim and Shirin were also somewhere in the hospital. Or if....When the nurse returned, Mida asked for her name. The woman had the syringe with its thick needle and icy blue medicine for Mida's daily shot and she looks at Mida like she suspected that Mida might be trying to distract her from using it. She’d been taking care of Mida for weeks and she was suddenly embarrassed that the younger woman didn't already know who she was. Mida turned on her good side, just enough to expose her hip, and the pain of the movement stole her breath away so that she hiccupped before she could ask again. "What’s your name?" "Drishti," she replied as she cleaned Mida's skin with alcohol. The needle felt as thick as a juice-box straw and the pain of the medicine, which Drishti had called a suppressant, seared down to join the pain of Mida's surgery site. Her left hand convulsed against the mattress as she tried to contain the pain. Drishti rubbed the injection site to make the medicine move through more quickly. Mida closed her eyes, her brain desperately trying to segregate her right side from the waist down, as if it could cordon off all the pain and leave the rest of her body in peace. "How many more of those shots do I need?" "One a day," Drishti said. "Every day. I’m sorry." "For how long?" "Forever. That’s what they’re saying, anyway. Makes you feel any better, we all get it." The pain was easing. Mida couldn't think about forever right now. "Drishti, I think I might had someone here, in the hospital." "What do you mean?" Mida began telling she believed she had friends here, but then she hesitated. Drishti might not care about helping Mida find her friends. "My cousins. I think they were brought here when I was." Drishti's focus shifts from her usual middle distance to her patient's face. "What's their names?" For a second, Mida couldn't remember their last name and panic settled in her belly, constricting her lungs. She closed her eyes and inhaled, the way her mother had taught her - then the information was there. "Maxim and Shirin Aayansha." "I'll see what I can find, but I cannot promise you anything. You know how it is these days," Drishti said as she made a note on her clipboard. Mida didn't but she said nothing about that and she watched as Drishti took the silver tray of syringes, and left Mida alone with the whirring fan and her claustrophobia, stuck in her bed instead of walking the halls looking for her friends....

Mature Content

Croonford Detectives Case 34Full title: Croonford Detective Case 34: Framed Part 1Story can also be read here.Full series can be found here.Summary: A tabloid start showing pictures of Michelle and Mark sleeping together. The rest of the  team attempt to prove the pictures are doctored and uncover the source of the pictures.Previously on Croonford Detectives:Just as they both sang along to another hit, 'Little L,' Chelle's shoulder straps fell. What the couple didn't know was they were being photographed far away."What happened?!" Lin exclaimed to her classmate over English breakfast."It was an accidental wardrobe malfunction, ok? It just took some sewing to get the zip fixed.""Oooh, what colour undies were you in?""Lin..."and"Mark, don't go out in such weather. Are you tired?" He explained he had a strenuous rugby game yesterday and his back was aching a bit. He started to sit down but she told him to lie down on her bed. He indeed did and she started massaging his back. More than 30 minutes later, Chelle had turned face-to-face and they were locked in a passionate embrace deeply kissing each other on their lips. They stay like this for the rest of the late evening but what the pair did not suspect what their actions were photographed by a long-range camera.The printing press and online news at the Croonford Daily Mail was always working in the early morning. The Chief Editor had added the usual British and International stories but a particular one with several pictures was placed on the front page. I'm sure it'll be a hit for the whole town and the wider region, he smiled then went to grab an early morning coffee.Later that morning, Chelle and Lin were taking the usual school bus together. They used to talk softly but today fell quiet as they were now in Year 11 and some mock exams were on today Their silence was suddenly broken as their classmate Hattie handed Chelle her mobile phone. Chelle's eyes widened as she saw the Mail's front page, 'Famous local girl detective having underaged sex with her star rugby boyfriend.'"That's a.." She nearly completed the sentence then remembered no one was allowed to talk loudly in the bus. Minutes later, she passed through  the school gates and usually students were focused on last-minute revision. Now a bunch surrounded her and peppered her with questions regarding the news article. Some immediately asked if  the article was true and Chelle immediately denied it. Others, especial boys, asked how was the sex, how long was it and used dirty terms and whistled how cute she was banging a rugby star or how daring it was. Statements like 'screwing him, 'how was the foreplay', 'was  it  just normal sex' or 'any bun in the oven' were asked or rather shouted at her.Chelle ran away but the other students still called out those questions and it took Lin much loud retorting and almost physical pushing before that crowd dispersed. Chelle thankfully found herself quickly amongst female group. Even then, Bethan and Heather did ask her how truthful the news article was. They quickly accepted her answer and Julia and Hattie comforted her, with the former suggesting they focus on their upcoming English mock exam paper. Chelle did but part of the way, she pulled out her mobile phone and despite the low battery, she logged onto the school Wi-Fi and read that news article. From the two pictures with her and Mark at her home, they managed to write nearly two thousand words out of it. She constantly cursed silently until the morning bell rang.Following her classmates, Chelle was lost in thought, troubled by this fictious article. More questions rang out from both her male and female classmates and even with Lin physical and verbal shielding, Chelle's ears still  heard a cacophony of questions regarding sex with her boyfriend. Not listen of comprehend what the students were saying, their teacher Mr Lambeth informed them loudly that their mock GCSE English paper. "Remember to leave your mobile phones in your locker and definitely no hidden pieces of paper or notes on your skin. Of course, a single bottle of water. Good luck."Minutes later, after all students locked up their phones, Chelle's class joined with Jenn's class in this mock exam paper. Chelle could tackle the first few questions fast then encountered several medium and long essay questions. She tried to answer them, however, she could only write half the questions length of the A4 paper then her mind wondered to the tabloid article and how much it would affect her and Mark. Unable to concentrate, she raised hand and soon locked herself in toilet stall. Her mind was full of the fake news though finally relieved herself. Back at her assigned desk, Chelle wrote more lines for the essay questions though her mind was still filled with the fake news article, particularly the photos. Why? Who was trying trouble me in my GCSE Year? Me and my dear Mark.With the cry of 'pens down', Chelle's answers were collected with her mind still on the fake news. Knowing that classmates and students would surround her and blast her with questions and sex-related comments, she dashed to the hideout she found several years ago - an unused room close to the rooftops. Sitting on the only chair there and without any electronic devices, she just stared at the walls, then the floor particularly her school shoes then closed her eyes. Her mind was again full of the article until she heard a voice."Chelle, Chelle, I know you're in there, open up," Lin called. One second later, she did and questioned how her close classmate and fellow teen detective knew she hid here. "I've always seen you run up here and a checked out the place myself," Lin grinned. "Come on, our Maths mock paper will be starting soon and it's chilly here." Lin also gave her friend an energy booster bar and plain water. Chelle liked maths since Year 9 and managed to answer many questions until she saw those on trigonometry. Instead of asking for a toilet break again,  she just kept looking at the questions. Initially, the article still was on her mind until she managed to write an answer to one question. This trend of new article and looking at questions continued until Chelle wrote answers to the questions, though didn't check her work before it was collected."Thanks, Hattie, I'll return your charger quickly," Chelle told her classmate."Anything, for a girl detective."It was lunch break and Lin suggested the teen detectives meet in one of the gardens far away from any other students.  Everyone came except Mark was there which further depressed Chelle. Lin had to call Chelle's name before she could focus. "Reinhard only focused on the images...""And looking at the first," he continued his girlfriend's sentence. "There are small, no, minute streaks here. You weren't going to...?" He didn't want to say she was taking of her bra."No, my dress fell down suddenly, that's it.""What I'm saying is that this photoshopped." There was a silence. "The second one," he enlarged the photo as large as he could, "doesn't appear so. I need my personal laptop which has Photoshop and I can check both.""The article, really is poorly written," Jenn spoke up. "Using present tense, short sentences, poor adjectives until you reach the, well, sexually-suggestive parts. I know it's the Daily Mail but it's also like written by a poor English writer." Jenn ended that taking a scoop of Scotch Broth. There was nothing further, so the sixteen-year-olds finished their lunch in silence and returned to their classes. It was revision classes but Chelle just half-looked at her notes and books, spent the rest of her time thinking about Mark.The last bell rang and she ran through the student crowd, with many yelling questions about the tabloid article.  Suddenly she collided into her own boyfriend."Mark, where on earth were you?"He drew her to the nearest corner and explained he was harassed and bullied much in between his English, Maths and Physical Education mock exams. "My classmates and rugby mates said really dirty words especially regarding my." he said several slangs regarding his private part. "It's worse than horrible, Chelle, how could the media write this nonsense?"She told him that Reinhard highly suspected the images were photoshopped and Jenn noted it was poorly written. Both agreed that they were trapped and went their ways. Just as Chelle step outside, she saw a crowd of reporters and cameramen surrounding the gates. Knowing why they were there, she rushed back inside and exited via the eastern side gate, hailed a taxi, and slouched. As she alighted, she saw her mum chasing away reporters and yelling at camerawomen. As they were gone, she called her older daughter in."Michelle," Chelle immediately noted that her mother rarely called her by her full first name. "Can you explain this?"Her mother had paper copies of the mail and other newspapers that had the same story."Mum, these photos are clearly fake. the...""Who is person appearing in both pictures?" Maggie Summers pointed at the pictures."He's...my boyfriend, Mark.""Boyfriend?!" Chelle summarised how she met Mark at school, found much in common with him, dated and he has been a terrific assistant for the detective group."How come I've never met him?""I was planning to..."Her mum held up her hand and picked up the Mail article. "What exactly where were you two doing here?"Chelle again explained she and Mark were dancing to music and suddenly her dress slipped and fell. "You know, the one I had you repair the zip." She vehement asserted she was not taking off her bra as depicted."And this one?"She explained due to the weather she told Mark to stay at her place. They were cuddling and hugging. "Nothing else occurred not what is written."She also had to answer what age she was in the images."Michelle, photoshopped or not, the damage is severe. Photoshopped or not, you two will likely be investigated for underage sex. I want you to cease seeing Mark after school and stop all your detectives’ activities; it's your mock exam  period."Chelle started to shiver from this announcement and that she might be investigated for underage sex. "Go to your room to clean up," her mother suggested. Nearly slamming her door and not responding to her sister's call, 'I baked a fruit cake', she threw herself on her bed and for the first time in years, Michelle Sarah Summers cried.Reinhard decided to work at Lin's house as he knew his father would bring his rowdy drinking buddies around. He did take his time and while Lin also knew how to use Photoshop, she considered him the expert.  After forty-five minutes, he took drink of Jasmine tea then announced, "They both are most certainly photoshopped. The first shows Chelle arms bent at her back, except they aren't her arms. Someone 'cut away' her real arms and inserted someone else's, the shades and lines are a giveaway. For the second, it's trickier. They are of cuddling but Mark's hand which is reaching for his belt again isn't his. This one is a little smaller that his hand around Chelle's. I've managed actually reverse them to the original."Lin kissed him and declared that they should go to the Croonford Mail to present this. Contacting the others, Jenn said she was heading for a short law internship and Richard would cover for her."Wow, I expected an army of police or lawyers, not teenagers from the local detective group," The Chief Editor, Jonas Gabriels, puffing out cigar smoke which the teens hated. "What ya have?"Lin presented the different images and together with her boyfriend, they strongly asserted that the images were manipulated with and therefore fake. "Yea, yea, I've heard this line before. We can use any image we get for articles.""Who gave you those photos? Who?" Lin raised her voice and asked this twice."Calm down. Don't you know the media, journalists never disclose their sources.""Your staffers write with poor grammar and poor spelling?" Richard showed a tablet copy with all the mistakes underlined in red."We might write too fast but the message is clear. Now anything more, I prefer proper professionals."Jenn was walking up the lane leading to the law office when she heard a muffled cry and angry shouts. Searching the nearby hedges, she finally found a young pre-teen lying flat on the ground with duct tape wrapped all over her. A tattooed and bearded man towered over her and noticed Jenn."Release the young girl!" Jenn cried.The man leaped over the hedge and drew out a knife. "You going to make me girlie?"Jenn knew she couldn't physically tackle a knife-wielding thung so turn a special dial in her watch. A shrieking anti-rape alarm sounded and seconds later, sirens blared and two Constables rushed over. With one arresting the thug, the other questioned Jenn and she headed to the law offices, happy that matter was resolved.Lin was fuming after not able to resolve the fake news at the Mail headquarters. After the boys managed to calm her down, Richard spoke up."Did you see the other person besides Gabriels in the room? Far left corner, he kept looking up every now and then. Yeah, it was his office, but there was someone else."Reinhard thought for a while then agreed that was a black hair person, almost hidden."Fine," Lin declared. "We'll trace him and see what his job scope is."To be continued.Michelle, Lin Ling, Jennifer, Mark, Reinhard and Richard will return in 'Framed Part 2.'
Multi-Chapter Fanfiction
RWBY: TAS Ch.30 - The Hand of FireThe battle of the gods continued.Here Weiss, Nora, and Cinder all zipped around so fast, space continued to further warp around the entire planet. Widening the cracks in the atmosphere that were already there, creating spatial fissures in the air that ruptured all things everywhere at the same time. Uprooting trees, shattering the barks, lifting up heavy stones, burning away lakes and large parts of the oceans alike, all to vaporize them down to their last atoms.And yet, the speed of the Maidens continued, catching up to Weiss – the Superman. The faster they got, the faster she also adapted and adjusted. But what was also a big concern was the collateral damage. With Weiss still trying her best to coat the planet in her immense pool of Aura, protecting it from the godly shockwaves. With energies enough to destroy the entire universe ten times over, all contained here on this very planet.Nora lifted her hammer once more, slamming it straight down toward Weiss, only to see her catch it with her bare hand. Just one right hand, while the other was busy blocking massive fireballs thrown from Cinder, cooling the flame with her overwhelming ice.Meanwhile…Back at the camp in the middle of the Forever Falls, the nomads were still in conflict with the Atlesian soldiers. The officers brought forth guns, and the people retaliated with makeshift weaponry of their own. Clubs, lances, farming equipment, and stolen rifles as well as pistols they crafted themselves.“Get back you animals!” The Atlesian officers shouted. “I’m warning you!”“I dare you, fucker!”“I’m warning you!”“Come get some, you piece of shit.”“You shitters better get back in line now! I won’t repeat myself.”“You can’t keep us locked up here.”“This is unconstitutional.”“Fuck your constitution.”“Fuck you fascist pigs!”“I said get back!” “You are all traitors! Get back!”This continued on, blood now began to splatter all over the ground as the soldiers and the nomads started swinging. With the Atlesians striking them with the butt of the rifles, while the nomads retaliated with huge swings of their clubs. Some soldiers were dragged into the crowd to be beaten to death, while some nomads were executed by the firing squads. And it was here – the officers were given orders to open fire.The screams got louder and louder, now growing into bloody shrieks of men and women shielding one another from the rain of bullets.This had happened once before.Immortalized as a cosmic story that now echoed through all of time and space.About five years ago, when Atlas invaded the Valley.When Weiss flew through the sky to puncture the bell tower, Ironwood was down on the ground as the troops marched. Many rebels and Valean soldiers were captured. And among them were civilians as well. Casualty of war, as the reports would say. But here in this moment, wanting to be thorough – Ironwood commanded:“Execute them all! Every – last – one – of – them!”The Atlesian Huntsmen and soldiers opened fire on the people of the Valley. Their screams were drowned out by the gunfire, some of which were powerful enough to vaporize them into a puddle of flesh from the force of the Dust plasma. Extremely advanced technology.This was recorded in greater detail in Ironwood’s recordings he left for Weiss. This was what she was taught in her youth. As well as what many Atlesians were taught. All marks of General Ironwood, one of an iron heart, and an iron fist.Jaune watched on as the fire of their rage burned stronger and stronger. Here, the rage of the tyrants was clear for all to see.The nomads began retreating deeper into their camps. Dragging any remaining children back to their mothers and hiding behind the few men left alive. Some of them were still able to hold the Atlesian soldiers back from advancing any further. But the nomads’ numbers were dwindling fast.There, Jaune saw the rest of the people falling back behind that sword – that Myrtenaster. The one blade that weighed more than an entire mountain.What Weiss once told him about the spirituality of Aura now began flooding back to Jaune. He still struggled to fully understand what it was she was really talking about, and he still wondered to this day how this was a part of his training. Plenty of other Huntsmen did not have to lift a sword this heavy, and they still turned out to be many of the most powerful men and women on the planet.He now decided, however, that the idea of training could now no longer take priority. Not while the innocent people were dying.So Jaune, right there and then, made a decision.As the last of the tribal men were being slaughtered by the soldiers, and as Atlas itself began advancing deeper into the camp – Jaune stood there in front of the sword on the ground, the sword that no mortal on the planet could lift, with him now being the only one standing between the soldiers and the lives of the nomads.They shouted:“KILL THIS ONE!”The rifles and Dust machine guns unloaded onto Jaune, kicking up a whole storm of dirt as the smoke from the blasts soaked the area into deep destruction. It cratered the very ground itself, which was surprising considering half of the soldiers were also unloading onto the nomads in the back fleeing back to their tents.But once the smoke cleared, the officers and their lackeys discovered the most shocking thing they had seen all day.None of the tribesmen were harmed, not one.And instead, all the damage seemed to have gravitated toward a singular point. The point where Jaune was standing.And there he stood, barely holding on to life with wounds decorating him from head to toe, forcing blood to paint his entire face. His Aura was flickering intensely, having now powered up to draw in every single bullet fired toward himself. It devastated his body, dripping blood from his shoulders all the way down to his legs, with all of his limbs now barely holding onto their skeletal sockets. Chunks of flesh blasted everywhere despite him trying his best to coat his body in defensive Aura. But he was weak and inexperienced, so it could only deflect so much damage.Despite the excruciating pain and blood being forced out of his throat – Jaune felt incredibly potent Aura coursing through his veins, in a powerful manner he had never felt before in his life. Like an endless well of water that went forever, deeper into the earth without limit.“FIRE AGAIN!” The commanding Atlesian officers cried.Thus, they opened fire once more, this time doing their best to make sure they were aiming away from the young man and deeper into the crowd of the nomads. Unloading not only the machine guns, but also heavier caliber missiles and grenades this time around.And yet…By this unexpected power – all the projectiles kept getting diverted elsewhere, focusing on a single point – right exactly where the young man still stood. Miraculously still on his feet, now blood oozing out of his body like multiple fountains. His shoulders now both dislocated, one eye was sealed shut from the bruises, the other could barely see from the blood flooding his face still.The officers and soldiers were dumbfounded. Not even some of the strongest soldiers among them could still be standing after that whole barrage. Perhaps a Huntsman of some kind, but a young man? And a student no less.And here, Jaune performed the most extraordinary feat yet – he folded his arms.Letting the Aura pour out of his body and forcing the broken bones back into its place. Jaune stood back as tall as before. Still defiant and determined.Under the young man’s breath, beaten to a pulp, now barely audible to anybody, he then uttered a single word:“Weiss…”From thousands of miles away across on the other side of the planet where the gods continued to clash, Weiss heard Jaune’s voice in the middle of the chaos that filled her ears. She had no idea why it was his voice she was able to hear. Despite the thousands of screams from the rioters, the explosion of the bombs, the artillery, the tanks approaching Vacuo, and yet – she still heard Jaune’s voice.Immediately turning her back against Nora and Cinder, Weiss flew off into the distance, back to Vale.“Oh no, you don’t!” Nora shouted as lightning exploded out of her eyes, blasting toward where Weiss was flying.And surprisingly, the divine lightning was able to catch up to Weiss’ ludicrous flying speed, knocking her out of the sky to then give Cinder enough time to build up a powerful fireball to toss toward the Superman. The fire came down, as big as a mountain, and there the explosion engulfed the land to a distance equivalent to an entire island, erupting like a nuclear bomb detonating at the heart of a furious volcano.At the center of the blast, Weiss remained unharmed – covered from head to toe with her powerful defensive Aura. She continued to fly away.But Nora and Cinder were fast, as they flew down trillions of times faster than light, they continued to strike at Weiss. With Nora letting the weight of her hammer down with divine anger. But once again, they were all blocked and dodged as Weiss skillfully evaded Cinder’s fiery glass arrows all at the same time.Now Weiss ignored the two of them again, flying further into the heart of the Valley.Here she arrived, approaching the ground with such vigor that it shook the earth the nomads and the soldiers were standing on. The other two Maidens followed her shortly behind, arriving as they now saw a crowd of people in this large camp split into two sides. On one side, being the soldiers, still holding tightly onto their rifles and weapons, but now with the fear of gods struck into their eyes as they witnessed the Superman floating here, above them.On the other side, were the Kaisar tribesmen, standing in awe of not only the divine powers of three godly beings gracing them with their overwhelming presence, but they were also in shock at the young man who was still standing up straight – in front of Myrtenaster.He stood there, refusing to collapse, as his breathing now slowed almost to a stop. His pupils were white and blank, and from here – Weiss could barely hear his heartbeat. And yet, he still stood there, like a statue. Perhaps unknowingly using the power of his Aura to force himself to stand on his shattered two legs, bleeding profusely and crushed into red flesh. His arms were still folded, and upon closer inspection, Weiss noticed that Jaune had bitten his own tongue, most likely to numb the pain of the countless bullets he had to take.Floating over to him, Weiss laid her hands on the young man, and here in her powerful embrace – Jaune could finally subconsciously let go and fall deep into her grip, letting his own blood paint Weiss’ white uniform, smearing it from his face, his arms.She held Jaune closer to her, hugging him tight as a wave of emotions washed over her, emotions she was desperately trying to keep hidden, hunching over, letting the shadows fall over her face. The godly Aura around her, however, continued to rise and rise with everybody now feeling this very hidden anger. But it was anger accompanied by something else, perhaps anguish, or even regret.She laid him down on the ground, before placing her hand on his chest, suddenly feeling a light beating of his heart. It was faint, but it was enough for her to then say to him solemnly:“I’m sorry, Jaune. I’m so sorry.”Letting her own Aura fill Jaune up from head to toe, the healing power of her energies was enough to bring Jaune back from the brink of death. He was breathing once again, and his heart was now stable. Still in a coma, with many of his wounds still not yet closed. Because Weiss’ attention was focused elsewhere, concentrating her anger toward everything around her.“You,” she pointed her finger at two of her soldiers, “take this young man away, he needs medical attention.”“Y… yes. Right away, Chancellor.”The two men saluted her, and immediately dragged him away, placing him on a stretcher and disappearing into the crowd of soldiers.Then, turning back to the crowd, her blue eyes now shining with cold rage, with an expression powerful enough to shatter boulders. She floated upward, just before extending her hand to her blade Myrtenaster and pulling it out of the ground using her immense gravitational field. The rapier flew right into the palm of her hand like a thunderous shout, shaking the very earth as it left the soil and launched off the dirt into her grip.Here, she declared out loud for everyone to hear:“Execute them! Every – last – one – of – them!”Here, the same tragedy of years long ago echoed once again as the Atlesians opened fire onto the crowd of people. Slaughtering the nomads in seconds. Everywhere, all around, for miles, all that could be heard was the blood-curdling screams of the people being torn apart by the Empire’s powerful machines and rifles. Melting their flesh and bones into piles upon piles as the corpses fell on top of each other.Staring back at Nora and Cinder, Weiss’ eyes shined brightly with a rageful blue Aura, sparkling like icy diamonds.This cold look was unsettling to both the Maidens, even in Cinder’s insanity, she was unnerved by Weiss’ invincibility. On the other hand, what Nora was most concerned about was the overwhelming strength of the Superman. The nomads were not her people, but Nora still clenched her fists in desperate anger, for she knew that if Weiss had her way, the Vacuans would be crushed under her heels just the same.The three of them flew toward one another once more, now the battle of the gods continued.Universe 2…Glynda and Rubio fought in the middle of the burning rubble of Beacon. Mountains of corpses of Huntsmen and students all around, painting the pavement and white stones into something more impure, something more primordial. The violence of man.The scythe and the sword had slashed at each other for hours now, and the rage of the steel continued to rise as the towers kept on collapsing all around. Ozymandias’ troops were now beginning to expand beyond the confines of the school, out into neighboring areas, now that the vast majority of this universe’s Beacon troops had been neutralized.Rubio zipped behind Glynda using his ludicrous speed, only to then find the woman’s body was protected by not only her Aura, but also another layer of Telekinesis passively protecting her on top of that as well. Her Semblance was absolute madness, with how much it was able to protect her in a 360-degree radius, leaving essentially no blind spot to strike against.Using this opportunity to catch Rubio using her overwhelming gravity, she pulled him close, ready to strike, only for Rubio to zip away into the distance once more, too fast for her to pin him down for good.“This stalemate is getting dull,” Glynda shouted. “Give up. The God King’s army is going to continue to spread, and there’s nothing you can do about it. All I have to do is keep you busy here, and you’ll lose.”“What’s your endgame here, General?” Rubio asked. “Why go through the trouble of invading another universe?”“There are things that go back further than you can imagine,” Glynda explained. “Further than even I am aware. In the days of ancient scripture itself. In ages of myth, legends, stories scattered through time. The God King’s plan had been in motion since before you and I were even born.”“Don’t you go all high and mighty with me!”Shaking her head, Glynda continued:“Regardless, both the God King and I know one thing, the Superman is indeed stronger than both of these universes combined. She might even be older than our Lord God Ozymandias himself, as hard to believe as that sounds. If he were to fight her head-on, he would likely lose. He truly has no physical defenses. So we must resort to magick.”“You’re talking about Oz’s illusions?”Glynda chuckled:“Illusionary magick is far beyond what you understand it to be. It isn’t merely about deception. It’s about perception, not a singular person’s perception, but everyone’s perception of reality. Ozymandias has the power to change that very concept. If everything in the universe changes their perception of an apple, to see it as an orange, then by all accounts, that apple has changed completely on a subatomic level. The apple no longer exists. Do you understand?”“Are you seriously suggesting Oz has the ability to warp reality itself?”Now bursting out into laughter, Glynda could no longer contain herself, and instead, she held her sword and pointed it straight into the heavens, splitting the very clouds themselves with her gravity.“The God King can do godly things beyond what you can imagine, you traitorous imbecile! Behold, the power of King Ozymandias obscured from you after all this time!”As the clouds cleared, Rubio glanced up high, shocked to see something he had no answers for. Something he never expected, despite his future vision. He could offer no explanation except be in awe of what was coming down onto Remnant:A gigantic burning hand. Coming down to this very planet.Larger than the moon, larger than Remnant, and larger than the sun itself, growing even larger by the moment. And upon closer inspection, Rubio could see inside this cosmic hand that it was made out of tiny galaxies, galaxies that slowly formed into larger universes, countless of them. This thing’s size was truly incomprehensible, too big to be contained.“But… how?” Rubio stood there, “How did I not see this coming?”“The God King’s illusionary magick is strong. Stronger than your eyes.”“But how?”“Did you forget?” Glynda smirked, “King Oz has future visions as well.”Far up in the Headmaster’s tower, Ozymandias stood out on his balcony, here he began to cackle. A laugh so strong, that Mt. Glenn exploded the moment the sound of his voice traveled far and made contact with the stone.In the palm of his hands, he held his green prophetic flames.With the power of ancient pasts, powered by the divinity of Giants, as well as something else much more sinister – Ozymandias launched his green flame into space, forming a gigantic pillar of fire that spread as wide as the entire tower he was standing on, reaching so far up, it blasted straight into the palm of the burning giant hand, still coming down onto Remnant.What Rubio began to notice, however, was that the green fire did not seem to be attacking the giant burning holy hand. No, instead, the green prophetic flame seemed to be drawing in the hand. Acting as a beacon of sort, allowing the hand to track Ozymandias’ current location.“Don’t you recognize that hand, Rubio my boy?” Ozymandias’ cackles echoed to Rubio’s ears.Surprised, he continued staring at the hand, now empowered by his Silver Eyes. He stared deeper into the red fires of the palm. Looking past the galaxies and stars making up the holy flesh, he was then shocked to see a warm light from within, a light he could hardly describe, and one he found difficult to fully make out the details of. Shining subtly behind the raging divine fire, here Rubio heard a sound he was all too familiar with.A heartbeat.“Is… is that…”“That’s right,” said Glynda.Staring at the burning hand, Rubio finally recognized:“Mother?”The prophecy of the stone had now commenced.Universe 1938…Weiss, Nora, and Cinder too had now begun to notice something strange in the sky. Coming from far above in the deep space far beyond. Something that came out of nowhere, almost as if it were intentionally obscured just mere moments before being revealed, like a magic trick.Larger than the moon, larger than Remnant, and larger than the sun itself, growing even larger by the moment.A gigantic burning hand. Coming down to this very planet.“What on earth is that?” Cinder growled.“How is this possible?” Nora looked in awe.While Weiss remained silent, but feeling the anxiety washing over her now, as she struggled to understand how it was that a thing so massive could have been hidden from her powerful super vision.Nora turned to Weiss in an instant, pointing her hammer at the Superman.“Is this your doing?” She glared in rage. “Your immense gravity must be inviting this monstrosity. There is no other explanation.”“You really think I would have so little discipline to allow such a thing to happen?” Weiss asked, clenching her fists.“No point in standing around speculating now, is there?” Cinder’s grin appeared on her face once more, with her now conjuring up another fireball in her hand. “If this really is all because of her, then let’s kill her and find out.”Not wasting another moment, Cinder tossed the fireball at Weiss, only for Weiss to instantly block it with her rapier, tossing it in the distance for it to explode to the size of an island.Not knowing what else to do, Nora decided to not let this distract from the fight, thus she summoned another lightning bolt and launched it at Weiss, resuming the battle once more.Weiss herself, however, was not in the mood.But it did not seem like she had a choice.Universe 2…“Why are you doing this?” Rubio shouted. “Why would you destroy an alternate universe full of innocent people? Are you people mad?”He struck Glynda once more, as he finished his sentence. Letting his heavy scythe fall on her sword before firing a massive sniper round off to launch himself off, creating distance between the two of them once again.“Oh, Son of Summer,” Ozymandias’ voice echoed once more, “how you know so little.”Glynda also continued to laugh, explaining:“The King knows Weiss is too strong for him, so we hide here, temporarily, so that Weiss cannot physically touch him. But you must know, Summer’s burning hand is not here to destroy a single universe. The hand is divine judgment, judging against Zoz from ancient times. That hand is here to destroy every universe everywhere.”“WHAT?”“Yes, Son of Summer,” Ozymandias cackled. “Your mother is delivering judgment unto me for my sins. If that sentence is to carry out, then let her judgment destroy everything else as well. Including the universe the Atlesian Superman resides in.”“You’re mad!”“I have put illusions of myself in every possible alternate reality,” Oz continued. “The hand will track my positions, and in the end, engulf everything in fire.”“No, you can’t!” Rubio cried.“It’s too late, it can’t be stopped! The prophecy cannot be stopped! Destiny comes, all will burn in divine fire. Die, Son of Summer!”The hand grew larger and larger, brighter into a crimson fiery hue. Now shining too bright for mortals to even see properly.Prophecy cometh.
RWBY: TAS Ch.29 - A Story of SupermanThe scythe and the sword clashed, with echoes of their Aura fragments flying off as crystal birds of freedom, freed from restraints, no longer hiding in the dark, for they both now could show off the true extent of their powers.Despite being trillions of times faster than Glynda, Rubio knew that this woman’s Aura was too thick to just pierce with ordinary means. The Aura was permanently coating her skin after all. Only a godly amount of force could truly penetrate through and cause damage.Elsewhere, far in the distance, the foreign Valean army began flooding into the Academy’s ground. Many wore similar uniforms to this universe’s version of the Valean army, with slight variations here and there. Sharper leather, a several officers wearing service caps and golden epaulettes on their shoulders. Several of the men shot their Dust rifles off, blowing the Academy soldiers’ heads off, leaving them in a bloody pool as others trampled over their lifeless corpses.To aid in their school’s forces, Team JNPR fought off several of these invading soldiers. To their surprise, they were a lot tougher to take down than they first assumed. Which JNPR soon realized made sense considering these men were veterans, and they themselves were still students. They may not have been Huntsmen, but they still had much more experience.Here, Nora fired off several grenade shots into a group before realizing several of them were falling back, scattering into different formations to begin firing from several different angles, making for an effective offense all while being defensive at the same time. Ren himself tried to cover Nora by spinning around, raining off countless bullets from his submachine guns.Jaune fell back behind deeper into the crumbling facilities to help evacuate the last of the first-year students. Several of whom, however, insisted on fighting, bringing forth all manners of axes, swords, lances, rifles, and so on.“Pyrrha! Are there any left in the classrooms?” Jaune shouted.“That’s the last of them,” she replied. “Come on, let’s go!”“HEY GUYS!”From the deeper parts of the hall – Team RWBY emerged.“Ruby! Guys!” Jaune shouted.“Jaune! It’s crazy out there,” Ruby cried.“Come on,” said Yang, “we gotta help everyone.”They dashed off back out in the open, and there, as witnesses – Glynda and Rubio continued their fight. The scythe and the sword clashed again, this time stronger than before. With Rubio moving around in circles, zipping too fast for anybody to even track where he was going. And yet, the protective Aura around Glynda remained strong, despite several slashes getting through, the damage being dealt was not enough to break this monstrous woman.Coming from behind for another strike, but this time, Glynda was ready – where she immediately turned around and pushed Rubio off once again with her overwhelming Telekinesis, launching him off toward Vacuo this time.He came back after a few seconds of being gone, landing right in front of the woman, now with a fire in his eyes.“Rubio!” Ruby and her team approached, with JNPR not far behind.But immediately, Rubio shouted at them:“Stay back! This woman is too dangerous for you guys.”Stopping dead in their tracks, RWBY and JNPR watched on, almost completely helpless. Still not quite understanding the kind of threat this version of Glynda was posing. Even as some of them looked on in horror at the bodies of Team CFVY that were left in the rubble.“This evil needs to stop!” Rubio cried.And here, Glynda simply shook her head:“You’ll pay for your transgression, traitor. Long live the Lord God of Vale.”Universe 1938…The riots continued to roar at the heart of the cities. Doors torn apart, cars rammed straight into walls with no remorse, fires being burned in the middle of the streets, all for the purpose of throwing them all around, spreading the heat of the people’s rage. And there, in the middle of the fire was the flaming hearts of the two peoples, Valeans and Atlesians tearing each other apart, dogs wallowing in hard bloody concrete, biting, snarling, spitting. Their flags were raised, and lines were drawn.The Chancellor Weiss Schnee could see this the moment she entered Vale. Flying toward the very heart of the fires.She had heard the blood curdling screams for a long time. But here, with the war still brewing, her mind had been preoccupied. The shouts of innocents dying, however, kept getting louder and louder. It was deafening. Making it difficult to focus. It was not merely an attack on her ears and mind, but also on her heart as well. Her herculean strength was perhaps limitless, but there were things that could only take so much – watching women, children running around being slaughtered, blood painting the road, fuel for the Valean revolution.When the animals looked up into the sky, their hearts dropped at the sight of a pair of glowing rageful eyes that could illuminate the sun. Judgment had come, and it will not be kind.“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Weiss’ voice boomed through the city, shattering several windows from the power of her shout alone.Several men dropped their guns and wooden bats, running to their shelters and hideouts, away from the gaze of the Superman. Despite some of them being completely aware of her incredibly potent vision, their shattered eardrums were still unbearable, disorienting.Zipping down the streets to grab two of them by the neck, before bringing them up high in the sky and dropping them. They screamed on the way down, and much louder once they hit the ground and their legs were shattered like a mere piece of wood.Several Valeans rioters responded by opening fire onto the Chancellor. Unloading Dust rifles and bazookas until they were completely empty.“Fuck you, fascist!”“FASCIST PIG!”“GET THE FUCK OUT OF OUR COUNTRY!” They yelled as the Dust exploded where she floated, sending fragments of flames all around. But of course, Weiss was completely unharmed.For their transgression, Weiss landed violently on the ground where the rioters stood, and the sheer force of the tremors was enough to shatter them into piles of flesh and bones, scattering like sand. They were easy to break, too easy.Numerous Valeans dashed off in opposite directions, while others continued to charge forth, fighting this living god. Many held bats, some had rifles, some even had military grade swords from licensed Huntsmen.All of which failed to do any damage the moment Weiss powered up her Aura, to let the gravity of her power crush them all into smithereens. So much blood, too many echoing cries.Still not over. Something else came from the sky.Appearing behind her from the rumbling noise of deafening thunderstorms. They came face-to-face not too long ago. With Weiss reiterating the conditions of the war. And yet, here she was – Nora Valkyrie, Maiden, already back, carrying her heavy heavenly hammer as she appeared out of thin air.Raising the hammer high, infusing it with holy lightning, she drove it straight down onto Weiss. Which Weiss managed to catch with her bare hand. The shockwaves, however, traveled far, and leveled several buildings, crushing everything beneath, the people below, the cars, the fires, the other riots across town.Weiss was unharmed, but she was caught off guard, for this was not something she saw coming.Several more hammers came forth, striking in the form of lightning spirits. Swinging with the same godly strength of the Maiden in front of her. Nora’s eyes lit up, powered by furious electricity that held the strength of a supernova.Scanning the several spirit hammers she had summoned, Weiss realized immediately that Nora had made it so that the hammers would be able to touch her, but intangible if Weiss were to attack back.“So this is your answer then?” Weiss asked, drawing her rapier.With her white glyph now powering her up behind her, acting as a platform for her to launch herself off, she flew toward Nora at a speed no mortal could react to. Zipping through the air and setting the atmosphere on fire.The fierce strike from the rapier could explode an entire continent with ease, but the blade was completely crushed into countless steel fragments the moment it made contact with Nora’s hammer, sending shockwaves far enough to rupture a nearby volcano, shaking the very earth itself.Letting the steel fly off, Nora struck Weiss once more with another thunderous strike, right at Weiss’ torso. She floated back, and did not even bother raising her hands to block, and there – her eyes lit up in a blue glint rage.“You don’t even respect me enough to use your Myrtenaster,” Nora scoffed. “You have no respect for Vacuo. Our King, our Season. You don’t respect Vale, not even Mistral. We’re all just playthings for you. I know how this will play out. I’m going to nip it in the bud.”Before Nora could strike again, Weiss zipped forward, trillions of times faster than light, and within an instant – grabbed Nora by her throat. Weiss’ hand turned cold the moment she made contact, with ice now forming out from the glyphs that came from her palm, slowly freezing Nora by her skin.Not giving up, Nora lit herself up with powerful lightning, a thunderous bolt traveling from the deep sky above, five quintillion times the speed of light as Weiss scanned it and dodged out of the way. The lightning strike lit up the entire city in a blinding light, so bright, the concrete of the buildings began to melt from the sheer heat alone.“Give up,” Weiss shouted. “You cannot defeat me. The only reason this planet isn’t dust right now is because my Aura is protecting it. I will throw you into the sun if anything happens to my home. You will not survive.”Powering up further and completely ignoring Weiss’ warning, Nora simply yelled:“Try me!”Burning from inside her eyes, lightning bolts came forth, shooting so fast, no sound could be heard until several long moments later, as it tried to catch up to the speed, zipping right toward where Weiss floated. And there, she held out her hands, which were now covered in thick indestructible ice, and instantly the lightning eye beams were reduced to nothingness.But not before the shockwaves from the blast exploded and shattered several clouds in the distance, roaming across the planet itself. From the smoke of the plasma, the two gods emerged toward one another, flying at speeds fast enough to rip the air apart, ripping mountains from the air pressure as they traveled. Dragging each other up into space as they collided over and over again. Circling each other from all angles, then creating continuous shockwaves piling up one another that shattered the very moon itself.Seeing this, Weiss’ eyes lit up, as she flew back to the moon, and held her right hand forward. Summoning a powerful glyph fueled by pure gravity to put the shattered moon back together, not leaving a single crack shown on the surface. A mere moment away from the battle, and Nora flew right back in, bringing the both of them back down onto Remnant.As they were reentering the stratosphere, still clashing against one another, with Nora’s hammer meeting Weiss’ indestructible fists – Weiss spotted a figure emerging from the lower clouds coming up to where the two of them were fighting.Surprisingly, Cinder Falls had reentered this fight once more. Flying toward them with her divine fire boosting her speed, summoned from the palms of her hands.What was much more shocking, however, was the fact that the moment Cinder came close enough – she began launching multiple fireballs toward Weiss, attacking her.Weiss pushed the fireballs off into the distance, letting them explode into nukes as her eyes now focused into a godly silent rage. She never expected Cinder’s loyalty from the beginning, but the fact she decided to attack now was infuriating. And yet, all she could see from Cinder’s expression was a devilish cackle.Pointing her finger toward a confused Nora, Cinder declared:“You still owe me combat. But we’ll finish that one another time.”Reluctantly, Nora refocused her attention back to Weiss. Despite not saying another word, their mutual understanding had now formed into an unlikely alliance. Temporary, but powerful. Enough to shake the ozone layer.Here the battle raged on. Thunder roaring from heaven.How did things get to this point? Why were all these people drawn to the Superman? Why was her gravity so powerful? What is Superman? What is Super? What is Man?20 years ago…This young blond child called Jaune walked through the forest all around him, getting himself across the river to the other side where he climbed the rocky grounds, through several bushes to explore deeper and deeper into the green.This child was unaware of how far he had gone into this unknown place. But he continued to be curious, picking up rocks and sticks along the way, getting lost in his own world. Almost as if he was content to be away from the real world back where he came from. But the boy was not hurt or sad, simply curious. But ultimately woefully unprepared for the wilderness as he attempted to climb over a massive fallen tree before him. Getting about halfway there, he fell back to the ground the moment he grabbed onto a loose branch, thinking it was strong enough for him to pull.Now covered in dirt, he dusted himself off before looking back up on top of the tree trunk – there, he saw… Her.He saw her under shining light. A person he had never seen before.A young girl with red hair, wearing a golden dress, with emerald eyes shining brighter than gems.From the moment Jaune laid eyes on the young girl, he was starstruck. Sitting there completely speechless, there was something about her radiance that made it difficult to describe, and even more difficult to act upon, almost as if he was now completely petrified.The girl smiled and she said to him, smiling:“Hi there, what’s your name?”Unable to answer, his eyes blinked on without stop. Prompting the girl to giggle as she descended from the tree, down to the dirt, extending her hand.“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”Instinctively taking the girl’s hand to get himself up, Jaune pushed on to work up the courage to speak. But speaking slowly, he stammered:“Um, w… well, I’m Jaune. My n…name’s Jaune.”Giggling again, the girl told him:“Nice to meet you. My name is Winter. Winter Polendina.”“Winter? You mean… like the…”“Yeah, like the Season,” she smiled.Still unsure, and confused, he asked:“You’re not… you’re not her, are you?”Laughing, Winter replied:“No, I’m not actually the Season Winter. My mom and dad said so themselves.”Turning around to face the tree, she placed her hand on the trunk, saying:“It’s dangerous to be out here alone, yeah?”As she finished saying that, she lifted the tree off the ground and instantly tossed it off into the far distance, as if it weighed as much as a small plastic toy, to be chucked into a bin.“At least – that’s what my parents told me,” she turned back to Jaune, grinning from ear to ear.Completely flabbergasted, Jaune’s eyes were still glued to the direction where the girl had thrown the tree off to. Far enough away for it to disappear into the bushes, but still close enough for them to still hear the sound of the wood being crushed from the landing.He looked back at the girl, who looked as ordinary as can be, without any noticeable muscle on her body. But the smile was one of a rambunctious little rascal, one who did not like to stay still. Despite being in that dainty dress, she clearly enjoyed being out here, to be free in this fresh air.“I live nearby if you want to visit,” she told Jaune. “My parents just moved here. We live near the church not too far from here. You should come over.”“Really?”“Totally, it’ll be fun.”“I… I can’t. I have to get back home soon. My parents are going to flip.”“Oh, okay. I guess.”Noticing her smile disappearing, Jaune scrambled for his words:“But… but we can meet here again, can’t we?”“Really?” Her eyes lit up.“Yeah. I… I’m usually out here by myself.”“Oh, me too. Well, back where I’m from at least. I don’t have any friends.”“Okay. Great. Yeah…”“Yeah…”Grinning for the first time since meeting, Jaune said:“Will… you be my friend?”Here, she responded like a star:“Of course. Let’s meet here again tomorrow.”“Totally… okay. Yeah. Let’s – let’s.”That very same year, across the planet on the continent in the North – Pietro Polendina lost his daughter.Even with all of his scientific genius, knowledge of the human body, knowing many things to know about the chemicals and atoms that made up the very being of those alive – he was powerless when his daughter was taken by a disease.Deep in his lab, he had been working on this last-ditch attempt to bring her back. Taking the essences inside of her brain, transferring them into code to be stored inside his supercomputer. A surprising seven zettabytes of data from her brain. He did not know why there was that much inside her mind, but he was not really focused on that as he worked.Instead, lying inside a pod before him was a robotic replica of his daughter’s body. A young girl with bright curly orange hair. Dormant inside, still yet to be awakened. And perhaps, she will sleep forever, impossible to come back as she was before. Because perhaps, what Pietro was working on was not really resurrection, but rather a replacement. A new creation.But a robot was a thing, and things could not possibly have souls. Pietro worked for months, tackling the problem from different angles. Looking for books, old files, anything that could give him a tiny sliver of hope. But this was something nobody had ever done before. Something nobody had even attempted.Except for the Fleet Admiral.“You can’t do it,” said Maru, standing by the door. “It’s impossible.”Ignoring the man, Pietro focused on. To which Maru shook his head, saying:“Even if you succeed, you have no idea if this is really your daughter. You have no idea if you’ve managed to upload her mind perfectly into that new body, or if all you’ve done is merely copied the genetic blueprints of her entire being, down to the subatomic level. That might explain that seven zettabytes.”“Okay,” Pietro responded. “Anything else?”“Listen to me. You’re grieving. You can mourn, but this needs to stop. This will kill you.”“I would gladly die for my daughter. Something you would never understand with those bastard sons of yours you hate so much.”Maru’s expressionless face remained unchanged. Pietro continued:“You wanna keep creating new children out of your test tubes? Be my guest. To me – there is only one Penny Polendina.”“Where is her mind, Pietro?”“I have it under control.”“Answer the question. Where – is – her – mind!”“I said I have it, dammit!” He slammed his fists on the table, crushing the keyboard in front of him. “It’s there on the goddamn hard drive… it… it has to be.”Walking over to his friend, Maru placed his hand on Pietro’s back, feeling the old man shaking and breaking down on his workstation. Maru now noticed the filthy room he had been staying in. Robotic parts being covered in mountains of papers stained with dark coffee. No food anywhere to be found, which made sense considering how thin Pietro looked.Shaking his head, the Fleet Admiral then finally said:“The Team I’ve been working on, the Team I’ve been growing – we’ve picked up signs of Aura.”Looking up toward Maru, Pietro was dumbfounded, silently doing the math in his head as thousands of other thoughts shot through his mind. Maru continued:“I can give you all the files and schematics I have. I think you’ll find it useful in improving your own design. But this must be kept secret, at all costs.”Looking down to the pod where Penny was lying inside, Pietro placed his hand and head on the glass. Feeling the cold metallic sensation being pressed against his skin. The Doctor then finally nodded:“At any cost.”30 years before Atlas invaded…There was an old television show that used to air on Kidstoon, Atlas’ children network, it was a show about a superhero dog wearing black goggles and a leather aviator helmet going on adventures across numerous fantastical places.It was a simple enough show. Quite popular with the kids, too. All while getting decent ratings during its run.On the second season of the show, the story introduced a new superhero character to the large cast of the show. A peculiar character by the name of Jacques Schnee.“How do you do, children?” said the dog, “It’s gggreat being back. Let’s see what the League of Supers are up to, shall we?”Back at the Hall of the Just.Here comes Jacques Schnee, children. The strongest in the league. Tall, muscular, clean white hair, and that powerful mustache. He sure can rock that white super suit, too. So skintight, with that shining diamond emblem on the chest. The white cape is delicious as well, it’s just like mine.The evil supervillain Alexander is up to no good again. Let us put a stop to his evil scheme this time, my friends. Ravenman, can you get us an intel of Alexander’s whereabouts?Can do, Jacques. My supercomputer has located his last sightings to be somewhere off the coast of Mistral. We should be able to intercept his next move from there.Excellent. Let us go there at once.Now, the team consisted of other superheroes as well, like the incredibly strong warrior woman Golden Gladiator Princess, a strong hero from a race of warrior women, coming from a faraway island isolated from the rest of the world. Her thousands of years of experience proved to be an invaluable asset to the team.Then there was The Green Ring. One of the most powerful heroes in this fantastical world. One with a ring that could create constructs of anything he could imagine. But what the ring was really capable of was the power of a wishing machine. Immensely powerful, but it was a weapon that ran on willpower. If one did not have such a thing, it would not be effective.None of them was as unique as the Ravenman, however. Considering he was a normal human being with no superpower of any kind. Instead, his greatest contribution to the League was his incredible strategic mind. Being able to understand science beyond any normal human, as well as having a sharp intuition and adaptational skills. The Ravenman became one of the most important members of the team.There were several other powerful heroes as well, but these were the strongest of them all.Arriving at the coast, the League came across a powerful giant robot wreaking havoc across the nearby city. Its giant laser cannons were firing toward the buildings, decimating it to rubble. People scattered and screamed in terror at the sight of this supervillain.This looks like a job for the League of the Supers. Ravenman, generate for us a civilian rescue route.Roger that, Mister Schnee. We will need to aid those up high in the buildings first. They are in the most danger.Green Ring, can you construct for us a safety net to catch the falling civilians?I’m on it, big man. One giant net, coming right up.Gladiator Princess and I will engage Alexander and his giant robot. Let’s go!But before they could even make their move, something from far away descended from the sky. A sudden new face had made an appearance. Showing up here to display powers that were completely identical to Jacques Schnee’s super strength, super speed, and flight. Zipping around to decimate the giant robot and its evil supervillain piloting the machine inside.Good golly, what is going on?Oh no, is this who I think it is? After all these years? How is it even possible?Jacques, what is going on? Do you know this person?Yeah, and why do they have your powers? Are you two from the same planet?My friends – I thought I was the last of my kind, but there’s no doubt about it.The young girl showed her face as the League descended onto the giant hunk of crushed metal, the remnant of the giant robot. The girl stood there with her hands on her hips, letting her white cape flow in the wind as they approached her. Turning around, everybody could now see the resemblance.Friends, meet – my daughter: Weiss Schnee.This story was first published in a comic book, drawn by two young immigrant boys traveling to Vale looking for a better life. Here at the heart of the Valley, they began writing their story.Throwball Hall of famer Bludd Williams, grandfather of throwball legend Rredd Williams, eventually bought the rights to the comics. Using that to go on and become one of the producers for the animated show. Though the show was a success, it was still just a product of its time. So it was not exactly relevant in the modern cultural zeitgeist.What was kept intact, however, was the first issue of the original comic book run. Still in mint condition, given away as a gift to the mentor of his grandson, a family friend – General of the Air Force Samantha Vulf.Decades later, the show disappeared. It never existed.Approximately 5,000 years ago…A meteor crashed landed on Remnant.This meteor was actually a corpse. From it, divine energies began leaking out.This body was heavy, a body of a god. Too heavy for any mortal to lift.The legendary King Mortimiah came to the crater with fifty strong soldiers with him. Striking the body with his blade, he found that the metal instantly shattered upon contact with the hard skin of the gigantic body. As tall as the tallest men in the lands.It stood up, revealing the visage of a woman.She was tall, abnormally so. From here, she stood on her feet, and the mountains in the distance crumbled into dust. Forming massive canyons.Immediately falling to his knees, King Mortimiah began to pray. But not to this new god who landed on Remnant, but to his own god – the Summer Maiden.“Protect me, my Lady. May you deal with me, ever so severely, if I lose my faith in you, o’ Summer of War and Hunt.”And here, the heavens split open. A hand reached down from above, one so large it dwarfed the whole planet. Larger than the galaxy, and still getting larger, now a shadow falling over the universe.This hand of fire was Summer’s. Immensely powerful, with the space around all bending from the sheer presence of its size.Here – Summer pointed her finger at the new god down below. Erasing her from existence.The corpse of the god withered, slowly turning into flakes of dust that flew off into the wind.She was no more.And yet…Approximately 10,000 years ago…A meteor crashed landed on Remnant.This meteor was actually a corpse. From it, divine energies began leaking out.This body was heavy, a body of a god. Too heavy for any mortal to lift.The legendary King Mortimiah came to the crater with fifty strong soldiers with him. Striking the body with his blade, he found that the metal instantly shattered upon contact with the hard skin of the gigantic body. As tall as the tallest men in the lands.It stood up, revealing the visage of a woman.She was tall, abnormally so. From here, she stood on her feet, and the mountains in the distance crumbled into dust. Forming massive canyons.She flew away, using her massive divine powers to conjure up a white armor with a white cape, flowing in the wind as she hovered in the air.Inside a human kingdom, an old man was being crushed by a large carriage.No man surrounding the commotion could help the poor old man.But here, up in the sky, something that looked like a bird swooped in fast, and getting closer, the people realized that this was a massive god.She lifted the cart up with ease, rescuing the man from a painful end.“Thank you, my Lady,” said the man. “Please, let me worship you.”But she flew off.And now ice began to fall from the sky. People’s eyes widened, for they had never seen anything like this before in their lives. They had no concept of this falling ice. It was light, and white, cold to the touch.Immediately falling to his knees, King Mortimiah began to pray. But not to this new god who landed on Remnant, but to his own god – the Summer Maiden.“Protect me, my Lady. May you deal with me, ever so severely, if I lose my faith in you, o’ Summer of War and Hunt.”And here, the heavens split open. A hand reached down from above, one so large it dwarfed the whole planet. Larger than the galaxy, and still getting larger, now a shadow falling over the universe.This hand of fire was Summer’s. Immensely powerful, with the space around all bending from the sheer presence of its size.Here – Summer pointed her finger at the new god down below. Erasing her from existence.The god now withered, slowly turning into flakes of dust that flew off into the wind.She was no more.And yet…Approximately 20,000 years ago…
RWBY: TAS Ch.28 - This PhotographUniverse 1938…There was an island located somewhere east of Argus, the port city built at the northern region of Mistral, acting as the trading center between the Atlas Empire and the Kingdom of Mistral. Argus here, to the surprise of a lot of Maru’s troops, were not his target for this side mission he had to ask permission from the Chancellor for. No, rather what he was interested in was that nameless island, half covered in snow, and half covered in the light of the sun.The island in question had no natural resources to speak of, and it had always been strangely inhospitable even with the awesome might of Atlas’ military and technological powers. It was not a matter of Grimm or even the grueling cold. Both of those could be conquered by the power of man. It all seemed ordinary somehow. Some travelers, both Mistralians and Alesians, had tried to conquer the land in the past. Only to be thwarted by what could only be described as supernatural means.“In 897 AA,” Maru told his student Diamond Sky, “a Mistralian wandering adventurer by the name of Yuyofkr, a pre-War man with a pre-War name, made his way north to this very island we see here. He was avoiding religious persecution from the peoples of his homeland, so he thought of fleeing here with his family. His wife Korykr, and two daughters, Menrialkr, and Lentalkr.”Diamond listened intently, standing behind her Fleet Admiral as the airship approached this frozen wasteland. Maru continued:“Things were working out fine for the man. He cleared out the Grimm in the southern part of the island in a matter of weeks. Setting up a little cabin for them just as fast. It all came crumbling down the moment he stumbled upon a strange dark pit that seemed to spiral to a bottomless distance. After finding out about the pit, something within the man snapped. As he committed murder by tossing his wife and two daughters down the darkness, never to be heard from again.”Walking to a table nearby, Maru flipped open a book. A historical record of a few more settlement attempts people had tried to make in the past. He continued:“In 1921 AA, a scientist by the name of Dr. Grayer decided to take a small expedition team to research this strange phenomenon plaguing this island. He too noticed the strange spiraling pit the moment they arrived, one with such an indescribable attractive force that one of the assistants immediately slipped in and fell to her death. Dr. Grayer stayed there for a total of three months. Only three files of his research notes and logs have been sent back to Atlas, all of which only covered preliminary observations and other brief notes, none of which was useful in deciphering what this pit actually was. He had never been heard from again after that.”Shuffling through more pages, he landed on a page near the end of the book. Putting his finger on the lines written, he read aloud:“In 2365 AA, the Valean King at the time, King Charles the Fifth, announced that he had invented a magical contraption that would be able to capture images of what was going on down there in the darkness of the bottomless pit. A magical lantern infused with his very own Aura, strengthening it to an unfathomable degree. It is written that King Charles possessed the power to shake mountains and even move the very orbit of the moon itself. Some of these claims were dubious, but he really was a powerful magician of Vale. One who should not be underestimated. This time, it was his turn to make his voyage to the far lands of the East. The specifics of the trip itself were not well documented, we do not have many surviving accounts of what he really did while he was on the island. But it is said that when he returned to his kingdom, he possessed a strange fire within the center of his lantern. A flame that was burning for months without going out. A fire – that eventually turned green.”Diamond herself was quick to pick up on the implication of what this might mean. She asked:“Sir, are you saying that the source of Ozymandias’ power, the source of his green prophetic flames – originated from this bottomless pit on this island?”“We have to consider the possibility,” Maru replied, grabbing his long coat from his chair and pulling it over his shoulders.For the airship had arrived at its destination.Stepping out into a furious icicle storm blowing against the very surface of the metal airship, Maru and Diamond persevered and pressed forward, protecting themselves from the cold with their own powerful coat of Aura.The ice and snow seemed to stretch for miles, over hills and small mountains. It was as if Winter herself was covering up any trails or history of mortals attempting to settle on this island so long ago. There was a feeling that made it seem prehistoric, untouched by anything but the natural power of the Seasons.“It seems like the only people throughout history who were able to return,” said Maru as they walked, “were the powerful men who could break mountains. King Charles was one such example – as am I.”“This is not the first time you visited this place, sir?”“No. I have been here many times. The pit never did anything to me while I was investigating. But none of the trips in the past yielded anything worthwhile.”“What makes you think this time will be different?”Looking above the raging sky as he readjusted his white beret, Maru walked on and replied simply:“Oz must be stopped. That’s all there is to it.”Out from the fog of the snow, the pit emerged for Maru and his troops to see, seemingly as if it was deliberately hidden away just mere moments ago. In the end, they did not have to walk far to find this thing, whatever it was. One large hole the size of a swimming pool, something that was emitting strange auras that almost felt alive somehow. With a strange rumbling emanating from deep below at an unknown source, ringing all around their ears as they approached this unknown darkness. The rumbling grew louder and louder now, and at a steady pace as well. Like breathing.Looking around the cold waste, Diamond could not pick up anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that Maru himself seemed deeply familiar with what he was actually here for, despite claiming his own previous investigations had yet to yield any fruit.But there, from the corner of their eyes, popping into their line of sight just as both their heads turned, being completely sure that they did not see him there before. And yet here he was, sitting at the edge of the large pit, almost falling into the dark depths.A floating head – covered by a leather hooded cloak. The two of them could not quite make out what the features on the head’s face looked like. The square jawline indicated that he was definitely a man, however. But the completely empty eyes obscured by the hood were unsettling, giving a vibe that this was some kind of reanimated floating corpse.One that began to speak:“Why have you come here again, Fleet Admiral Maru of Atlas?”Taking off his beret and slicking his hair back, Maru tossed the hat aside as he pulled his white eyepatch off his face. Revealing an empty eye socket with brutal scars decorating his rough ancient skin. He then continued to unfasten the red tie on his uniform, also taking it off and chucking it in the air to let it be devoured by the storm.The head continued:“You will find nothing good here for you, Disciple of Auric.”Readying her fighting stance, Diamond was prepared to launch herself toward this unholy aberration hovering before their eyes. Only to then be stopped by Maru as he held his arm forward, signaling her to stand down.“I am here to do whatever it takes,” Maru declared, “Ozymandias has grown too strong. Zoz has grown too strong. And I cannot defeat him in my current state. You are an observer. So observe this.”Maru then turned to Diamond, pulling from inside his long coat a rope which he handed over to her. The rope looked to stretch out far despite being neatly tucked away inside this coat. Possibly even reaching to near a mile if Diamond had to estimate. But what was much more concerning for the young woman was the fact that at the end of the rope – was a noose.As soon as she noticed it, Maru took the noose out of her grasp and immediately placed it over his head, before securing it around his own neck. Confused, Diamond’s cold killer expression began to morph into one of concern. Which was then ultimately interrupted when Maru then said:“I need you to do this for me, soldier. Whatever happens next, you must not stray from my directive. Is that understood?”Reluctantly, she nodded her head, unable to deviate from her training. Maru continued:“You must hold onto this rope, and you must not let go, no matter what. Hold onto it with everything you have and stay in place. What I am about to do next won’t make much sense to you. But all will be revealed in due time. Will you do this for Atlas, soldier?”Upon hearing that, she immediately saluted Maru, now with a determined look in her eyes. She vowed:“Yes, for the glory of our Empire.”Saluting her back, Maru nodded his head:“Good. This will take some time. Endure this with me. There is a possibility that this could fail. In the event that it does, I want you to know – it has been an honor being your mentor.”Now, the Fleet Admiral powered up his hand with an overwhelming layer of Aura, before immediately jamming his fingers into his one remaining good eye. Grunting in pain, he powered through the sudden burst of blood and yanked the eyeball straight out of its socket. Within a second, he was holding it in the palm of his hand. With red dripping down his face and his hand.Turning to the pit, Maru tossed his eyeball down the pit, losing himself in pitch-black blindness.Still not finished, he clapped his hands together, and here, with the last of his remaining Aura reserve, he summoned forth an energy that shook the very island they were standing on. With the light of the power now rupturing the cold brewing storm surrounding the area, piercing into the sky like a light beacon at sea, or a thunderbolt striking the ice.From this Aura, Maru managed to do something rarely seen. A technique so complex and advanced, it had only been discussed on a theoretical level. With many theorizing only those with strong enough Auras like the Giants could have possibly accomplished such a thing.Maru summoned forth an energy construct – in the shape of a spear.Standing there speechless, Diamond knew not what to do or what to say. And yet, her own confusion was exacerbated when Maru took the light spear and plunged it deep into his own chest, stabbing straight through his ribs, straight through his heart, and straight to the other side.Coughing up blood, the man was losing strength quickly, so he needed to work fast. Fortunately for him, he only had one thing left to do in this ritual. But fortune would not be a good way to describe what he was about to do. As here in the roaring blizzard, the Fleet Admiral stepped off the edge of this massive pit, letting himself be taken by the crawling grip of the darkness.Remembering Maru’s orders, but still feeling reluctant, Diamond was almost thrown off her feet when the rope began yanking out of her hands. She held it tight in the next moment, but here with the weight of a Northern Giant, she still struggled to hold on as the body of her mentor continued to fall deeper and deeper, with almost no end in sight.Without her Aura protecting her palms, she would’ve been completely shredded by the force of the friction, pulling with furious rage that could ignite a fire if needed. But all that was on her mind now was not anything concerning her own wellbeing, rather she was only focused on the body of the Fleet Admiral finally hitting a stop, now no longer falling and no longer pulling on the thick rope.She could not see how far he had fallen, but she was sure the body was still there, dangling deep below, as if close to the very core of the planet itself.“What are we doing here?” Sienna asked Tyrian.Here, the man led her into an Autumn Church. A relic of a building made from strong white stones that miraculously looked as if they hadn’t aged a single day. While weathered by time, it still told stories. Many of those from travelers passing by carving their prayers onto the surface. It was an old tradition that not many people in the modern days continued, but it was a sign of the church’s old generosity that still lasted to the Mistralians of today.As they approached the cathedral, the sound of ethereal chants and the flickering glow of enchanted candles drew them closer, inviting them inside into its sacred embrace. Inside, the air was thick with must and decay, but over on the far table in front of rows upon rows of intricately carved wooden benches was a long table covered with a white sheet and decorated with a row of golden candles on top. Kneeling in front before the table were the priests humming their hymns.But from here, the one on Tyrian’s focus was none of those praying in the front, the holy men. Instead, slipping behind along the left wall, he spotted an old longtime friend of his.Father Hazel Rainart.Father Rainart was a tall and muscular middle-aged man with short dark brown hair, a beard, and hazel eyes. He was also unusually large and broad, standing at eight feet tall. His skin was tanned and the several scars on his face and particularly his body were all obscured by his dark priestly robe, suggesting that he had been in many fights in the past. Something that was difficult to hide from Tyrian’s devilish eyes.Unlike the other priests, he wore no gloves. And his forearms being so huge made it hard to hide underneath the long sleeves as well, showing off a thick layer of hair covering even more of those unusual scars.The man walked on in the darkness, but clearly aware of Tyrian’s presence as he was sneaking up on him from behind.“You’ve come to our church today,” Hazel said in a low grumbling voice, “so come, I will take your confession, Tyrian Callows.”Chuckling, Tyrian signaled Sienna to follow him, still walking behind the large priest.“It’s good to see you too, Rainart. But I’m not here to join your cult.”“Yes… because you have your own at your company.”“Looks like the holy life didn’t kill your sense of humor, old friend.”“Hmm, I see you’ve brought a friend.”Approaching to shake his hand, Sienna stepped forth:“Hello, Father. My name is Sienna.”“I am Hazel Rainart,” he shook her hand, smiling faintly. “Pleased to meet you, Sienna.”“Likewise.”“So then…” Hazel turned to Tyrian, “what can I do for you?”Wrapping his arm around the priest, Tyrian began looking around, trying to see if they were being watched, before he told him:“I know you know a lot of shit. Hell, I bet you know every face that has ever walked on Mistral.”“Flattering, continue.”“What I am here for is a name, a face, and a story. Think you can provide that?”Glancing back at Tyrian, not exactly anxious, but instead more confused, maybe even a bit annoyed. But still wanted to stay calm and push through, Hazel asked:“Who are you looking for?”And there, Tyrian answered simply:“You’ve heard of the name Penny Polendina, haven’t you?”Hazel’s eyes lit up the moment he heard the mention of that name. The expression on his face morphed into something that was difficult to read. Confusion mixed with a subtle hint of something that almost looked like terror, or at the very least something that could be classified as extreme caution.Answering his question, Hazel said:“I have heard of that name, yes. And so have you. The both of you.”Confused, Sienna looked to Tyrian’s empty expression for answers, only to find a stoic unimpressed face. Hazel then elaborated:“Penny Polendina – is the Superman.”Looking to the other priests to make sure they were not paying attention, Hazel confirmed they were still deep prayers, so thus, he gestured his hand for the two of them to follow him down into a dark hallway hidden behind a thick red curtain, not letting them have the time to even process what he had just said.The hallway was long and narrow, with walls made of rough stone, barely lit. The floor was covered in a thick layer of dust making the air stale and musty. The only light here came from a few flickering candles at the far end of the hallway.The hallway was empty, save for a few old pews that had been pushed up against the walls. There was a sense of foreboding in the air, as if something sinister was lurking in the shadows. But with Hazel here, under the shadow of his large stature, there was a sense of security. A sense that this holy man could not possibly do harm unto any living thing.Leading to a wooden door, he took out a small key and turned, letting the loud clicking sound echo down the stone hall, here into what the other two assumed was Hazel’s study. It was a surprisingly cozy room, with the same dark stones for walls and a fireplace that crackled merrily. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with books of all shapes and sizes. At the center of the room was a large desk, where the occupant could sit and write or read. There were also two comfortable red armchairs by the fire, presumably for any visiting guest.There on his modest wooden table, one that seemed too small for the large man, were several quills and inkwells on the desk, and a few books were open, which Sienna assumed were holy texts of some kind. With many written in languages she did not recognize.“Have a seat,” Hazel said. “Would you like something to drink?”“We’re not here to socialize,” Tyrian folded his arms, surprisingly changing his mood.“I’ll have some tea if you have them,” Sienna then responded despite Tyrian’s reaction.“Certainly,” Hazel smiled, as he had already instinctively poured a cup from a pot on a table next to his desk.“Like I said,” Tyrian insisted, “we’re not here to socialize. What I need is for you to elaborate on what you mean when you said this Penny is the Superman.”His smile now disappeared, he glanced back at Tyrian with a serious look on his face. And now, not wasting any more time, he sighed and said:“You’re right that I remember many faces on Mistral. Thousands if not more. I don’t usually just tell anybody about the whereabouts of these people out of respect for their privacy, but since you are a friend… and there is also a matter of – prophecy.”“Of what?”“Things have been building up to something big,” Hazel continued. “Our holy texts have specified them. Many people say that parts of the prophecy are lost elsewhere. And while that may be true, what we have is illuminating.”“Get to the point, Hazel,” said Tyrian.“What I’m telling you is very important,” said Hazel, seemingly ignoring Tyrian’s command. “I assume you found out about the name Penny from the Golden Gladiators, correct?”The two nodded their heads.“And I assume, then, that you’ve also seen that rock with all the swords, correct?”“Where are you going with this?” Tyrian asked impatiently.“The truth of the matter is,” Hazel walked up to his bookshelf and began pulling out several books, “Penny Polendina is someone I knew long before she returned to the Gladiators six years ago.”“Wait, ‘return?’”“Yes. I met Penny and her parents twenty years ago. In this country. They moved here from the North for a few years. Before moving back to Atlas. At the time, I had no idea. She seemed normal to me. But now you know…”And there, pulling out from a book he held in his hands, was an old photograph that seemed folded and nearly crumpled. Which the existence of the photo in of itself was bizarre as both Sienna and Tyrian expected one to take a picture with their scrolls, not this antiquated technology.In the photo was a scene of Hazel standing next to a father, a mother, and a red-haired daughter, barely taller than their knees. A smiling young girl in a golden dress, with sparkling green eyes like emerald.Universe 2…“Come to me, Son of Summer. I see you.”Far below on the grassy grounds of Beacon Academy, on the plains where the Vytal Festival was planned to take place – was now a place consumed by a foreign hell nobody on this planet could have foreseen.General Goodwitch, a Huntress with the power of nuclear bombs, walked out as massive sections of the school’s numerous towers began to crumble behind her path, with each heavy step rumbling the earth from the overwhelming force of her Aura. Here, the school’s emergency alarm began to sound, echoing behind the roaring flames of destruction.Jaune and the rest of his team were just walking about outside the buildings when they heard the loud thunderous sound of what felt like doom. Almost knocking them off their feet from the sheer force of the sound alone. Sprinting around the corner, they were shocked to see their teacher Goodwitch in that unfamiliar uniform. One that ultimately made them feel as if they had never known this woman in their entire lives. They had to squint their eyes before they could recognize her. All being made extra difficult through her stern gaze full of bloodlust.“Professor?” Nora looked on, deep in confusion.“That… can’t be her…” Jaune commented.Stepping out of the fire, Glynda stretched out her right hand, and within moments, her Telekinesis brought before her ten soldiers patrolling the Academy, and with a single swing of the sword, their bodies were sliced clean in half. They did not even have time to react or process.Tossing the bodies aside, she levitated several bullets out of the soldiers, and as they hovered over the palm of her hand, she glanced back to several more towers in the distance. Once more, tossing the bullets away and letting her Semblance carry them far off, and the bullets flew like wasps, attacking viciously – crumbling the stones one by one, brick by brick. Crushing anything in their way. Shattering all the windows as they pierced through concrete and doors, killing even more now that the towers were collapsing.“What is she doing?” Jaune shouted, unsure if what he was seeing was even real.“Where is Team RWBY? They were just with her a moment ago,” said Ren.“Heads up!”Shouting from behind, Team CFVY emerged, with all members prepared for battle, wearing serious expressions on their faces. Including their fearless and usually calm leader Coco Adel. Who now knew they were going up against a veteran-level Huntress, who should not be underestimated.Yatsuhashi and Fox also readied their weapons, with Yatsu bringing out his massive near seven-foot sword Fulcrum. A monstrous copper-colored blade that was nearly as large as he was. Fox himself, a blind fighter, wore on his forearms two bladed tonfas, attached like massive gauntlets.Velvet stood by Coco’s side, feeling scared of Glynda, whom they all thought was a familiar caring teacher. Trying to gather herself, she readied her camera, prepared to support her team.“You guys go evacuate the other students,” Coco ordered Team JNPR. “Yatsu! Go!”Nodding his head, and instantly leaping off the ground. In his hands he raised his gigantic sword high, almost to the point of blocking out the sun, to then bring the hunk of steel down hard to where Glynda was standing, coating the blade with his own Aura to amplify his attacks.All of which…Immediately proved futile when Glynda raised her right hand, stopping the attack short, not even letting the massive sword go anywhere near her. With the overwhelming weight of her Aura, she let the gravity crush the sword into a thousand pieces. Shattered – just like that, faster than one could even blink. A monstrous weapon from a senior student, folded like it were made out of nothing but paper.Now letting the gravity of her Semblance pull him in close, she grabbed tight onto his neck, choking the young man. Then staring at him directly in his eyes, her own lacking any emotion now that they had come face-to-face.“Yatsuhashi Daichi. I know you back in my home universe as well. Strong. But you’re in my way.”A simple slice of her sword – his body was instantly cut in half. The lower parts falling down, now nothing but hunks of meat.“NO!” Velvet blood-curdling cry immediately morphed into a swift sound of sobbing, seeing the horror before them.“What the fuck!” Coco gritted her teeth, now rattled, unsure of what to do, but still engulfed in a rage that shook her hands as she tried to clench them.“What have you done?” Jaune shouted, pointing his finger, demanding an answer.Turning her head to face the students, Glynda said:“The multiverse is out there. His life is absolutely insignificant. There are billions just like him.”“YOU BITCH!” Fox charged forward, ready to cut their professor.“OPEN FIRE!” Now fully enraged, Coco summoned forth her golden minigun from her handbag. Letting the million bullets loose out onto the field toward where Glynda was standing, coating every single one with thick layers upon layers of rageful Aura, ready to kill. Now not caring anymore that this was their former professor, or so it seemed to them.Following Coco behind, Velvet also summoned a copy of Coco’s minigun, projected with hard-light from her camera. Now with tears in her eyes, she did not know what to do anymore, but indulge herself in this burning violence, as Beacon’s flame continued to roar.Backed up by a whole platoon of Beacon adult soldiers, who had now just arrived on the scene. Now on their knees, opening fire from their powerful Dust rifles, firing forth non-stop against a threat they could’ve never foreseen.Their bullets raced forward, like a rain of steel and fire. Hailed down as judgment from the Academy itself, acting as its immune system, a self-defense mechanism from its tiny organisms.But Glynda here was not like any ordinary disease. She was a plague. One brought over by a foreign force.Far up in the Headmaster’s tower, General Ironwood ran up the stairs and burst into Ozpin’s office. Fists clenched, and eyes widened into a red furious gaze, touched by fear.“Ozpin, what’s the meaning of this? Glynda is attacking the students!”Entering the office, however, he did not find his old friend Ozpin. Instead, he was only in the presence of something that was wearing his friend’s face. Something that was exuding a new Aura, something he had never felt before in his life. Something that felt – alien.Here was a man wearing a stylish black three-piece suit with a smooth vest, yellow buttons, and a yellow tie underneath a sickly green scarf. His white hair seemed messier than usual as he now put on his head a green wide-brim hat, one that was abnormally wide, nearly the size of a large wheel on a vehicle. Big enough to obscure his face beneath a sinister shadow. And underneath that – was a cackling smile.Now disappearing before his sight as soon as Ironwood blinked his eyes. He charged forward, looking around, trying to find where he had gone. Only to suddenly feel a violent sensation digging in from behind his back. One that somehow – instantly broke through his defensive Aura.Here, Ozymandias’ arm plunged straight through the general, holding his heart out for him to see. A heart covered in blood and mechanical oil. Bursting forth and forcing Ironwood to cough up blood, as the confusion set in. His eyes darting around, and he tried his best to turn around to face his assailant. With great difficulty, he did manage to take a look at his face. But to his confusion, the face he was looking at was no longer one of a man. Instead, this was now the visage of Glynda Goodwitch, but one that looked twenty years younger than the one he was acquainted with. Not wearing any glasses, and familiar to him, not only as an old friend – but an old love.Then – she spoke, but not in her own voice, but in a man’s voice, rumbling in his ears:“Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”Ironwood’s scream now, too, echoed, but was still ultimately drowned out by the fire that now melted the bricks and paint of the walls and buildings. What was more was the hail of bullets now lying at General Goodwitch’s feet, scattered all around. Many of which were bloodied, stained from piercing the soldiers and Team CFVY. Velvet was dead, with her legs torn apart and the rest of her body in Coco’s embrace, as she too was heavily injured. Blood dripping down her face, with her right arm blown off some place she did not know. Nor did she even notice in the middle of this madness.Glynda looked into the open sky to hear thunder striking. Within the next millisecond – Rubio Rose had arrived back at Beacon, traveling all the way from Mistral. With his scythe in his hands, he was now no longer smiling. Seeing the danger and destruction before his eyes.“What have you done?” Rubio asked.“Nothing will stop the Lord God of Vale from returning to his throne.”The moment she finished her sentence, Glynda snapped her fingers. From far away in the woods. The green ooze of Oobleck released from its illusionary magick an entire armada of Ozymandias’ Valean soldiers. Now marching into this universe, no longer hidden by the green goo, and here – commencing an invasion.

Mature Content

Manga and Cartoons
'The Big' The Little' Cardcaptors Charms Comm. by BlackManaBurning
The Lamia Key--Test Pg. 8 by mmpratt99
The Lamia Key--Test Pg. 7 by mmpratt99
The Lamia Key--Test Pg. 6 by mmpratt99
Inspired by Prompts
Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?It wasn’t supposed to be like this.She’d done it. Risen to the top of the pile. The very pinnacle of British public life. Just like her idol. But it hadn’t gone the way it was supposed to. The world had conspired against her. Her enemies in that axis of conformity had scuppered her best-laid plans to make things better. Now every interview was a nightmare, where journalists asked actual probing questions and weren’t satisfied with the wooden, pre-prepared answers she’d practiced for hours in front of the mirror. Some of them even dared to say that she was giving the same answer to every question, and that was just not right! It was correct, but asking that wasn’t right, damnit! In a rare moment of quiet, she allowed her mask to fall. Laying her head on the desk in her office, she wept openly. Looking to the heavens, she called out, ‘My god, why hast thou forsaken me?’ "Because you’re fucking useless," came the reply. At first, she thought she was going insane. It took a moment to rationalise what was going on. ‘God?’ she said at last. "Who else?" boomed the voice. "It is I, the Notorious G-O-D, The Big J, Big A, whatever the hell you want to call me." ‘It’s just,’ she stammered, ‘well, you see, I was expecting to hear from my god.’ Oh Christ," the voice replied, "you’re not one of those bloody pantheists, are you? Or a Hindu? I was assuming not, all things considered, but I can have a word with Ganesha if you’d prefer." ‘Oh, no, of course not,’ she said. ‘But I thought that if I was talking to any god, it’d be Mrs Thatcher.’ There was a long pause. Long enough to become very uncomfortable. "You’re taking the piss, right?" the voice said eventually. "You can’t be fucking serious." ‘Of course I am,’ she said, indignantly. ‘Mrs T was the greatestest Prime Minister we ever had! She took on the unions, made the NHS pay its way, won three elections, reclaimed the Falklands from the lefty Argies, won the Cold War and made the country a better place!’ There was another long pause. "You’re actually serious now," the voice said. "You’re actually fucking seriously claiming that that evil fucking harpy should have been elevated to the pantheon. Well, bad news, shit-for-brains." ‘What,’ she babbled, incredulous at the mere suggestion that Saint Maggie could have any flaws at all. ‘Of course she’d be a god! She’s there right now, I’m sure, organising the angels to operate more efficiently!’ "You’re praying to the wrong place," the voice boomed back. "Maybe want to look downwards instead." ‘I beg your pardon!’ she said, indignation oozing from every syllable. ‘You obviously don’t know what you’re talking about! Whatever could Mrs Thatcher ever have done to warrant such a punishment?’ This time, the pregnant pause could’ve encompassed a couple of ice ages. "Look," came the eventual reply, "have you ever actually read anything that I’ve ever intoned to various prophets down the years? Once I got past my blood-and-thunder phase, I mean. We’ve all done shit in our youth that we’re not proud of, and in my case it was homophobia, misogyny, genocide and banning people from eating bacon. "I told you lot to turn against the money-lenders. I told you that an avaricious man entering heaven was as likely as a camel passing through the eye of a needle. I told you to love thy neighbour. Hell, I keep telling you that, not that any fucker listens. I even sent two prophets in the late 80s, told you all to be excellent to each other. And did you listen? did you fuck. "So what in the nine circles of hell do you think would make an evil bastard that did her damnedest to fuck over the poorest members of society in favour of the richest, who stoked division and hatred at every turn, eligible for godhood?" She was stumped. This wasn’t how she expected to spend her Wednesday afternoon. She fought down the urge to talk about economic growth. "Fuck-all," the voice continued, "that’s what. So that aside, let’s turn to your fucking useless Maggie Thatcher tribute act, shall we? "Firstly, what in the name of all that is holy possessed you to announce tax cuts at the same time as massive amounts of public borrowing? Especially seeing as how the money you were borrowing was intended to make up for money you’d lose through the fucking tax cuts! It’s no different to rocking up to the bank and telling the manager you want to borrow the equivalent of half your annual salary to make up for going down to part-time hours, then wondering why you’re laughed out of the building! "Of fucking COURSE the financial markets you venerate so fucking much will refuse to touch you with a ten-foot pole! You’re a bad risk! You want to borrow money without the wherewithal to repay it. What did you think would happen?" ‘Mrs T cut taxes and put the financial sector first,’ she bleated, ‘I need to grow the pie, trickle down to everyone else...’ "You don’t grow pie," the voice boomed. "Pie is made, not grown. You fucking idiot. Nor does it trickle, least not if you make it properly. Trickle-down economics is even more fictional than I am! All it does is prompt the rich to hoard their wealth, like some kind of weird, putty-faced South African dragon." ‘Mrs T won three elections,’ she wittered helplessly. "Because Labour were fucking disastrous and she did her damnedest to disenfranchise as many people as possible," the voice said. "Christ on a bike, you really are mentally retarded, aren’t you? There’s no other word for it. How the hell could someone with the complete inability to grasp basic concepts get to the highest position in the land? Oh, of course – your opponent was a brown man, and in the pathetic bigoted minds of the Tory grassroots, racism trumps sexism. Times like this, I wished I still did the whole fire-and-brimstone schtick – you lot are crying out for a plague of boils!"And so did the Cabinet Secretary discover Liz Truss sat in a room, on her own, screaming at the ceiling about the injustice of it all and how Margaret Thatcher was more of a god than God ever was. Although lately, that was probably the least stupid thing to happen around there...
A Message to my 10-year-old SelfHey, smeghead. It’s me. You. I am you. Sort of. But yeah, this is a message from you, thirty years into the future. I wanted to let you know... No, we don’t have flying cars yet. And nobody’s been back to the Moon, either. The Yanks keep talking about it, but here we are. So, yeah. I wanted to tell you that things will get better. Although not all at once. There’ll be some tough times, but in the end... No, I’m not a fighter pilot or an astronaut. And FYI, the Space Shuttle is a complete death trap. They’ll lose another one 12 years from now. Much as the idea of plummeting to Earth in a three-ton bottle bank supported by one parachute isn’t exactly appealing, Soyuz has a far better safety record. Now where was I? Ah yeah. Things will be difficult. You’ll still be ridiculed for being different, but you know what? Fuck ’em. Read comics. Watch Star Trek. Go get into Star Wars, too. Embrace the fact that you like rock instead of pop music. Hell, maybe start to learn the guitar before your co-ordination goes to hell. I wish I had. Yes, I said a naughty word. I swear. It’s not a big deal. Christ... Keep writing stories. You’re good at it. We’re good at it. Many people will take advantage of that skill along the way, but it will be a gateway into a world... No, I don’t know why we don’t have flying cars yet. Look, I know you came up with that idea about using electromagnetism to push against the Earth’s magnetic field, but the Earth’s magnetic field isn’t strong enough for that to work. If it was, anything made of steel would be permanently rooted to the ground and fridge doors would be sent flying into the fucking stratosphere. Now... Look, I’m being sarcastic. It’s a skill you’ll learn, and put to great effect in the coming years. You’ll find a love of writing comedy, strangely with a piece of English GCSE coursework. The possibility of stand-up comes to mind every now and again, but we’re just too shy for that. Your destiny lies behind a keyboard, mate. What? How the fuck would I know what the football pools results are gonna be on Saturday? I don’t even like football! Yeah, I know you got really into the World Cup last summer, but that’s an exception that proves the rule. As I’m sure you’re becoming aware, rugby league is far better. And to be honest, the best part of three decades following Featherstone Rovers will set you up for facing virtually any disappointment. Pessimists are never disappointed, we’re pleasantly surprised. Where was I? Oh yeah. I know you have frequent mood swings and don’t understand why, but everybody around you puts it down to hormones. It isn’t. You will get a diagnosis of clinical depression and, finally, medical help. After a fashion. That’s still a bit shite, to be... Look kid, I know I’m a big fat bloke. I have seen mirrors. This is what happens when you develop a hatred of exercise and a love of beer and curry. Oh hey, if you want to maybe get around this, try being careful next summer. In July, one week before you break up for the summer, you’ll trip up in the garden chasing Claire with a water pistol and gash your knee open. You then spend all summer trying not to burst your stitches or cause the wound to open up, and this inherent lethargy is the beginning of your descent into fat bastardry. So, yeah, fun. Stay close to your family. Your dad is a bit of a numpty and, frankly, an absolute bastard at times, but his heart is in the right place. It’s just that his brain is in neutral. Enjoy all the time you have with your mum, there isn’t as much of that left as you think. And even though your sister is as irritating as a tropical skin condition right now, eleven years down the line you will need each other’s support more than you could possibly... Oh come on, stop crying for fuck’s sake! Better now? Good. So if I have any more advice, it would be to do what you want to. Take risks. But rest. I burned out by the time I was 15 and I’ve been trying to come to terms with never meeting people's expectations ever since. Yes, people are bastards. No shit... Are their relationships in your future? Of course, but you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your princess. No, that doesn’t mean literally kiss frogs. Magic isn’t real. Also, how in the hell do you think that a working-class scumbag from a Yorkshire pit village stands a chance with the Queen’s granddaughter, anyroad? But my biggest piece of advice to you is this: ten years from now, for the first time in your life, a girl you are not related to will tell you that she loves you. Run. I know someone telling you that they love you for the first time is a powerful thing, but broom her worthless psychotic arse for the sake of your own sanity. You deserve better. Please, if you do nothing else, do this for me. Look, will you please give it a rest with the flying cars? Fuck’s sake! And no, we don’t have hoverboards either! Christ, this is why I never want kids... Okay, just shut up and listen. Things will be difficult, but they will get better. You will find people that love you for who you are: proper friends, and eventually, someone that wants to share the rest of her life with you. It will get better. But here’s a tip: you know that thing called the internet, where computers communicate over the phone lines? It’ll become a method of conducting business in a few years. As soon as it floats on the stock exchange, buy as many shares as you can afford in a thing called Amazon.com. You’ll thank me.
Other
Vereinigte Republik DeutschlandThe exploration of Germany late in 1965, when Danish and Swedish forces reached the borders with Hungary, Poland and Czechoslovakia, revealed a country in complete disarray. All large cities, centres of industry and every foreign military installation had been heavily bombed, to the point that several bases were assumed to have suffered 100% casualties. The pre-October War population of both the FRG and GDR had been annihilated. Estimates put the casualties at over 30 million, almost half the pre-war population of both Germanys combined. Berlin and Bonn had both been completely destroyed, unsurprisingly; however, some cities remained largely intact and had weathered the post-war horrors by effectively hunkering down, arming their police with the heaviest weapons available and rationing food and water. Kiel, surprisingly, had emerged damaged but in decent condition. It was here that the Scandinavian Union hosted the European Conference of Reconstruction with representatives from Austria, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Portugal, Spain and the British Commonwealth on 21 January 1966. All parties decided that they would throw whatever resources they had to establish functioning national governments in Germany, France, Belgium and the Netherlands; aid in the rebuilding of these countries’ defences and economies; and aid in the repatriation of refugees wherever possible. It was, unfortunately, telling that Turkey and Eastern European countries were exempt from this plan. The USSR had annexed parts of Turkey and were setting up puppet governments of their own in the remainder; and the Sverdlovsk Kremlin had laid claim to the rest of the Eastern Bloc. The USA was showing no inclination to get involved in helping or making overtures towards the Soviets; and the surviving countries of Europe were in no position to challenge the Soviet government.Plans for Germany were quickly put into play. By the end of 1966 a provisional government had been established in Magdeburg, the largest surviving city after Kiel and the biggest in a central location. New rail lines were laid across the countryside, replacing the crippled original tracks; autobahns were cleared; and supplies began moving between the remaining cities. Initially, the convoys had to be guarded by foreign troops, for fear of being attacked by the remaining bands of outlaws still roaming the post-apocalyptic landscape; although this job would eventually fall upon German forces after the military was rebuilt with British, Danish, Swedish and Swiss equipment. The survivors were eager to put their horrific past behind them. The new constitution of the reunified Germany, drawn up by the liberating powers with assistance of the US government, was similar to the pacifistic constitution of Japan. There were key differences, of course: the parliamentary system was based on that of the pre-WWIII West Germany, with the Chancellor acting as head of government and the President a largely ceremonial role appointed from within the two houses of the Bundesparlament (Federal Parliament), the Bundestag (Federal Diet) or Bundesrat (Federal Council). Each state would have its own single-house legislature, the Landtag (State Diet), headed by an Erster Minister (First Minister) and cabinet. As part of the pacifistic constitution, enacted primarily to placate the Soviets, Germany would be forbidden by law from joining any international defence pacts or possessing any weapons that could be classed as “offensive” based on range or capability. The new military would be known as the Nationale Selbstverteidigungstruppe, or National Self-Defence Force. Three elements were created: the Deutsche Heer (German Army); Deutsche Marine (German Navy); and Luftwaffe (Air Force). Policing would be carried out by state-administered forces (Landespolizei, or State Police) held to a national standard by the Ministry of the Interior; this Ministry would also oversee the federal Bundespolizei (Federal Police) directly. German police would be routinely armed, especially since armed groups were still at large. Their training, equipment and methods were more along the lines of the French Gendarmerie than the traditional British police forces.Economic progress would, naturally, take longer. Germany's industrial heartlands, centred on the Rhinelands and Ruhr Valley, had been heavily bombed with heavy loss of life and destruction of infrastructure. Replacement of the many destroyed factories, power plants, foundries and mines would take a long time, so initially the new Germany would be reliant on the importation of fuel and people. In the short-term, large gas turbine installations were provided by the UK. These consisted of Rolls-Royce Tyne engines connected to English Electric generator sets and, while not mobile, were relatively portable and could be moved around as needed. Hundreds of such generators, nicknamed “pocket power stations”, were provided by January 1969. They would meet the country's power needs until the dams on the Ruhr could be rebuilt and the reservoirs refilled. Coal-fired power stations would provide the energy Germans needed that hydroelectricity could not. As part of the discussions with the Soviets, it had been agreed by all parties that the new Germany would not be permitted to possess nuclear power, be it military or civilian.The “new” country would be known as Vereinigte Republik Deutschland, or United Republic of Germany. The country’s heraldry represented both the reunited nature of the country and its pacifistic bent, with the national flag being based on the older German Empire flag rather than those of East or West Germany; similarly, the traditional black eagle was removed from the flag and naval ensign as this was widely seen as a nationalistic, aggressive emblem outside Germany. The Provisional Government took control of the country on 31 December 1966, quickly passing the new constitution into law. The NS, BP and LP were rapidly brought into being, with training on new equipment proceeding quickly and all three being stood up by early 1968. The first truly national and fully free elections in Germany since 1932 took place in November 1969, marking the start of the country’s new future.
1963 Transport White Paper - post-October War UKThe immediate reality in post-October War Britain was that, in order to move relief supplies around the country, the most important methods would be sea and rail. In the aftermath of the winter of 1962-63, where almost 4 million people died from cold and disease, the need to acquire food, shelter and medical supplies and deliver them to where they were needed became paramount. As soon as Denis Healy became Minister of Supply, he instigated two major projects. Every civilian shipyard in the country that was large enough to do so was turned over to the construction of Commonwealth-type modular transports, while every engineering company with sufficient capacity was making kits to construct temporary “Healyville” housing for the refugee population that still numbered in the millions. Trains, however, would be a different story.Even in the early 60s, mainland Great Britain still had an enormous railway transport capacity. While large amounts of freight could be moved around by Commonwealth-1 and -2 coastal ships, there was still a need to move the food, fuel and materiel from ports to their destinations. Rail was still the best prospect, since the new motorway programme had, understandably, come to a grinding halt. Railways, by contrast, could be relatively easily repaired in damaged areas and pressed into service as both the main method of transporting relief supplies into, and refugees out of, damaged areas like East Anglia, Lincolnshire, Kent and outer London. The main problems being encountered were with the lack of spare parts, standardisation and fuel for British Railways’ fleet of locomotives. BR had attempted to standardise its ageing, diverse fleet immediately after nationalisation, creating the Standard classes of steam locomotive that were intended to replace the older stock as it wore out. However, the decision in the 1955 Modernisation Plan to carry out large-scale electrification and replacement of steam with diesel on non-electrified lines curtailed this project and the last Standard steam locomotive, a Class 9F heavy freight engine named “Evening Star” in reference to an early steam loco that had been named “Morning Star”, rolled off the line in 1960. In 1963, the UK as a whole was lacking in proven, exploitable crude oil resources. What it did have was a huge resource of coalfields in Yorkshire and South Wales that could produce high-quality anthracite to fuel steam trains. With the country’s new fleet of merchant ships adding to the burden on what oil could be exported from the Anglo-Iranian refinery on Abadan Island, the decision was made to switch back over to steam traction instead of diesel. BR’s diesel locomotives would be withdrawn and sold off to countries with more readily exploitable oil resources, while BR would once again start work on standardised steam locomotives that could be easily built in large numbers, to replace the ageing pre-nationalisation engines as they wore out.The railways portion of the 1963 White Paper, drawn up by the British Railways Board at the behest of the Ministry of Supply, detailed the future for steam traction within the UK. Essentially, it laid out how the Board would replace and expand capacity that was wearing out, withdrawn or had been outright nuked out of existence:Creation of a family of “austerity” mixed-traffic locomotives, in both tank and tender engine layouts, utilising as many of the same parts as possible to simplify construction, servicing and fabrication;Renewed production of the Standard Class 9F heavy freight locomotive, albeit in more of an austerity fashion to simplify construction;Upgrade of former LNER, LMS and GWR express steam locomotives in the short-term for long-distance passenger services, with a standardised replacement to take over all express passenger traffic as they wore out;Continued use of diesel shunting engines, due to their speed of construction and ease of operation. This would be the only remaining use of diesel traction in the new British Railways.The Plan was duly approved by the UK Emergency Interim Government of Ted Heath in June 1963, with the goal being to have the first of the new mixed-traffic engines coming off the line by the end of the year. This exceedingly tight timescale was met, in part because of the two designs being based on one existing type renowned for its capability and simplicity of construction. Despite the intentions of the drafters of 1955’s Modernisation Plan, steam would remain the primary method of traction for British Railways for many years to come. It would be well into the 1980s before replacement of steam with diesel and electric traction became a reality, and steam engines would remain in BR mainline service until the end of the century.Air transport would see major developments in the aftermath of the October War. Initially, turboprop transports would provide transport for passengers and cargo, the latter providing a priority service for freight that would have otherwise gone by sea. Damaged road and rail sections could be bypassed by air. BEA's existing fleet of Viscount and Vanguard airliners would be supplemented by variants of Hawker Siddeley's Avro 748. Aside from domestic routes, BEA's aircraft would fly between the UK and Ireland, Scandinavia, Iberia, Italy, Malta, Greece, Yugoslavia, Cyprus and North Africa. BOAC, on the other hand, would primarily fly either transatlantic routes with de Havilland Comet 4 jetliners and 400-series Bristol Britannia turboprops; or long-range "Commonwealth" routes to Africa, Asia and Australasia. Plans to replace most of these turboprop-powered aircraft with jetliners were well advanced, with new airliners based on the de Havilland Trident and Avro Vulcan ready to leave the drawing board by 1964.Finally, road transport would have to be addressed. The shortage of petroleum meant that roads would take a lower priority than other modes of transport; but plans were put in hand to improve and repair the network. Firstly, hauliers would be effectively nationalised by being brought under direct government regulation, basically making HM Government PLC their sole client. Road building would be stepped up once railway reconstruction was complete; and while the building of further motorways was shelved it was announced that major A-roads would be upgraded to dual carriageway standard and centres of population bypassed to prevent town centre gridlock. A scheme was also drawn up involving government savings for everyday people that would allow for the purchase of private motor vehicles. Similar to the Volkswagen scheme set up in Nazi Germany, it involved people making weekly token payments; in return, they would receive an 'economy car', one of several choices that would use a large number of common components to save on maintenance and construction costs. The car ownership plan would likely not come into being until 1965 at the earliest, so details were light in the 1963 Transport White Paper; however, it was likely that the Austin/BMC Mini would form the basis of the vehicles produced due to its simplicity. Similar schemes would be set up for farmers to allow the acquisition of Land Rovers, tractors and other mechanised farm equipment. This would, of course, have the side effect of providing more employment in a near-bankrupt world.
Change In The Air - Story Cover by LydeaBlaze
Spoils of WarToulon, southern France. 0730 CEST (0530 GMT); 6 August 1965.There was a feel of inevitability in the air. Well, that or terror. For over a year, ever since Brezhnev and Shelepin had embarked on the frankly insane Operation Chastise to cut the West off from Arabian oil and seize a warm-water port in the Persian Gulf, there had been Soviet “advisors” in France. Their orders had been simple: keep the Red Dawn lunatic fringe in control of the multitudes of local fiefdoms that had cropped up in the south of France since the collapse of central government. These lunatics would be supplied with Soviet weaponry and instructed to keep sticking the knife into any American or British forces in the region and thus distract them from the USSR’s true plans. Andrei Stepanovich Stakhanov was, on paper at least, a colonel in the KGB. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, he was in effective exile in France, tasked as the senior advisor to the self-proclaimed Bountiful People’s Democratic Socialist Republic of Provence. It was a task he would not even give to the most incompetent of the idiots that had been dumped into cramped research offices back at the Lubyanka before the war, and yet when the rest of the advisors had been pulled out of France following the end of Operation Chastise, Stakhanov had been left in post. France, as far as Stakhanov was concerned, France was ungovernable – an opinion shared by Chelyabinsk. The multiple factions running riot through the country, despite being armed and advised by the Soviets, spent more time fighting each other than providing an effective distraction. A prime example was the Free People’s Republic of Provençal and Corsica: initially a promising group, they had been supplied with P-15 anti-ship missiles to mount on the handful of destroyers and avisos operating out of Ajaccio. Unfortunately, after action taken the previous year by the British they had resorted to fighting with other groups on the mainland, losing control of Toulon to the BPDSRP by the end of 1964. Toulon had been one of the few French cities to survive the War with little damage. Only one missile had been targeted at the naval base, which overshot the target and detonated nearer Marseilles. This meant that the naval vessels in its harbour were largely left intact: ships that were, as far as the Soviets were concerned, worth more than their weight in diamonds.The three biggest ships in the harbour, laid derelict since the October War, were the only reason Stakhanov had been kept on here, even as his colleagues abandoned their own tin-pot warlords in the face of no longer being needed. Before dawn, three heavy tugs and a cargo ship had arrived after navigating their way from Georgia. They offloaded a full battalion of Naval Infantry, all of whom were now keeping enquiring French away from Toulon Arsenal. Stakhanov had been given orders to leave with these ships, but for now would remain to field any queries from local officials wondering why they were being abandoned. Sure enough, the Chairman of the People’s Defence Committee came waddling through the crowds, waving his walking stick. Stakhanov eyed the man with nothing but pure contempt. He knew the story of Comrade Francois Grout, formerly a railway union man, member of the French communist party and before that an active supporter of the Vichy regime. He was just the wrong side of sixty, had a thinning mane of unruly white hair, a walrus moustache and waistline to match, and an overinflated sense of self-importance of a level Stakhanov had never before encountered outside of the Central Committee. ‘What is all this?!’ Grout bellowed by way of greeting, a handful of armed men in gendarmes’ uniforms following in his considerable wake. ‘What in the hell do you think you’re doing with my ships, comrade?’ ‘We are taking them in lieu of payment, comrade,’ Stakhanov replied in accented French. ‘We have supplied you with all the weapons you asked for and all the grain we could spare in the past year and a half. It’s how you were able to drive the Corsicans off the mainland, after all.’ ‘I don’t give a shit about any of that!’ Grout blustered in reply. ‘We’ve got real problems coming now and we want Soviet assistance!’ ‘Really? What problems are those, comrade?’ Stakhanov asked with a frown. Nothing in the intel dispatches he’d received said anything about the Italians massing on the border; even if they were, there was a lot of territory to cover before they reached Toulon. ‘The British, you fucking idiot!’ Grout spluttered, as if the answer should be the most obvious thing in the world. ‘I have it on good authority that the British have already taken Caen, Cherbourg, Calais, Dunkirk and even more ports!’ Stakhanov stared at the stupid little man for a moment, wondering if he was serious. Once he adjudged it to be in the affirmative, he burst out laughing. ‘Have you any idea how long it will take for the force of British and Scandinavian troops to work this far south?’ he said at last. ‘And anyway, are you not happy that someone is working to help clothe and feed your countrymen, comrade?’ ‘They are driving the rest of those mad bastards south, you moron!’ Grout yelled. ‘All the rest of those Red Dawn lunatics that you abandoned! That moving band of rampaging pirates that some of your men are leading! All heading this way!’ This caused Stakhanov to pause. He’d heard rumours of one of the little fiefdoms being taken over by its KGB advisors, and that said advisors had refused their recall orders and even managed to amass a small force of armoured vehicles. He’d dismissed it, of course, but now something nagged at him – what if it was true? ‘Even if that is right,’ he replied with a shrug, ‘there will be months before they reach their way here.’ ‘I need protection!’ Grout yelled, spittle flying from his enraged lips. ‘I need Soviet troops, Soviet tanks, and those ships there to provide artillery support!’ ‘You will have none of those things,’ Stakhanov growled at him, his voice dangerously low. ‘You will have no further assistance from us.’ ‘I want –’ Grout began again, before the second tirade almost knocked him off his feet. ‘I do not give a shit what you want, Comrade Grout,’ Stakhanov shouted, pushing the older man back by jabbing him in his corpulent gut. ‘I know you! You only rose to this position in this stupid little soviet because the last few Red Dawn men ran off to fight in Korea! You, who sang the praises of Hitler and Stalin with equal aplomb, depending on who was listening! I shall brook no further crap from you! I have better things to do than stand around chewing the snot with a jumped-up blob of lard like you!’ ‘How dare you?!’ Grout yelled. ‘I will have you shot for this!’ As if in response, the ten closest naval infantrymen raised their AKM assault rifles and aimed them straight at Grout. The harbour front was suddenly silent, aside from the click of safety catches being released. ‘My men outnumber yours, comrade,’ Stakhanov said pleasantly. ‘And it appears that yours have no desire to get involved.’ Grout spun around; sure enough, the gendarmes were standing with their rifles slung and displaying no intention of intervening. ‘If you want my advice, make peace with that roving band of pirates if and when they make their way this far south,’ Stakhanov continued in the same conversational tone. ‘Or make a run for the Swiss border with all the trinkets you’ve likely hoarded in the past few months. Just remember, if and when a provisional government with Western backing manages to bring order to France, you and other bastards like you will likely be strung up from the nearest lamppost.’ Turning on his heel, Stakhanov gave orders to the naval infantry sergeant to shoot the fat bastard if he tried to get onto the Arsenal again and marched back to the quayside.It was going to be a big ask; he knew that much. But there, in varying states of disrepair, were the three ships that would form the core of the future Soviet Navy: the battleships Richelieu and Jean Bart; and the aircraft carrier Clemenceau. There had been a second carrier, the Foch, but she had been at sea on the night of the War and nobody knew her fate. In all probability, she was on the bottom of the North Atlantic now. Soviet engineers had examined all three ships and determined that they were in a decent working order. With a fair amount of work, they could very well be brought into service again. Over the next few days, all three would be readied for transport and towed to friendly ports; either in Georgia or the now Soviet-controlled Istanbul, or Tsargrad as it was already being referred to. Turkey’s government and every other strategic target had been bombed on the night of the War, leaving only the main port city that straddled the Bosporus. After unleashing the hoards of Red Dawn at the still-shattered citizenry, the KGB’s subsequent liquidation of the fanatics had seen the Turkish people welcome the Soviets as nothing short of liberators. Plans were that the Turkish provinces that weren’t annexed by the USSR would be grouped into one or two vassal states, with Tsargrad acting as the capital city of the Turkic Socialist Republic. For right now, the city would provide the Soviets with a staging area for rebuilding their Black Sea fleet until Sevastopol, Odessa and Novorossiysk could be brought back into use. Whether they wanted to or not.

Favourites

Literature
Love's Imprint
I still find myself bleeding over the wound you left me, three years later. Some days you are the dull in my fingertips, others you are my inability to look a man in the eye. But mostly, you are my constant distrust. My body no longer feels set ablaze passing by your house, or hearing your name. But my mind remains bruised, even with years to heal and countless short-lived remedies. I've tried the pills, pot, liquor, and even flimsy lovers, but my friends still manage to say they miss the old me. The me that you took away. And between trying to still recollect the shatters of my heart and mind, I can't seem to find her either. No one told me love would do this to me, no one managed to tell me what happens after. If I knew what I did now, I would of saved whatever remaining sanity I had and left.
:iconBathroomStallStories:BathroomStallStories
:iconbathroomstallstories:BathroomStallStories 11 1
Literature
Redefined
A battle lost
A white flag thrown on a field stained by bloody tears
I submit
   capitulate
     succumb
       yield
         give up
           Fuck you
People have no meaning any more
Eyes show the truth to the lies they spin like webs
Lecherous
 indulgent
   ravenously
    lethargic
     hate-filled
       backbiting
         Narcissists
I choose surrender rather than put you out of your misery
No more of your fear-fueled deceits
No more watching you waste your lives
Obsessed with consuming
                            shopping
                               fucking
Ignoring what is really important
                    Love
 Creation                  Compassion
                    Life
   
Now I choose to live in this self-made cave
I choose to no longer participate in society
I choose to become my art,
                     become my words,
                     live by my morals...
                                          ... as antiquated as they are
The dream of many but embraced
:iconWriterInACave:WriterInACave
:iconwriterinacave:WriterInACave 7 10
Literature
I stroll lazily down the road.
I stroll lazily down the road. It’s a small road I realize, lined with shops just opening their doors at a comfortable ten o clock. It’s calm, for now anyways. As I walk I begin to hum, that’s when the magic happens. The people around me in this lazy little town get a new spark, that’s what I like to call it, a spark. The baker is first, spurred into action just by little me. Well little me and my voice of an angel. He just starts mixing, taking his dough and just throwing it back into the mixer. Soon the dough is gone but not the flour, or the butter or silverware. Outside, his clerk is still selling pastries, not noticing the commotion inside. When he’s not looking I run my hand over each and every one of those sweet fluffy clouds, I also snatch one for myself. The effect is instantaneous, after the first bite of any pastry I caressed with my soft hands, their will is mine. Well not really, they just become like my friend, the baker. By now the whole str
:iconeaglefeatherx1:eaglefeatherx1
:iconeaglefeatherx1:eaglefeatherx1 1 0
Literature
Love and Secrets
                                                        Love and Secrets
              There are some situations that you are asked to keep something secret. It can be something minor or it can mean the life or death of the people we know or love. We keep secrets thinking it is the natural thing to do, but do we ever think about the consequences of what can happen from keeping that secret? I know I never thought about it before…. until now. Sometimes the secrets we keep can be the death of us.
              My name is Amara Monroe. I feel that my life is extremely dull. I am a Goth at a school full of preppy people, who worry about the next football game, who stole whoever's boyfriend, and other pointless things. I am forced to go to an elite school against my will because o
:iconinuyasharocks24736:inuyasharocks24736
:iconinuyasharocks24736:inuyasharocks24736 3 1
Literature
Time Travelling Detective Timothy. Chapter 1
Time Traveling Detective Timothy
At 94 CrossedLine, an investigation takes place, involving a curious teen-aged detective and the confused Chief Inspector Kensakan. The teen detective stands in the centre of the room; the deduction begins.  
'You! . . . You are the murderer of the late, Mrs. Hington.' the thrill of the excitement shines in Timothy overflowing eyes of anxiety, his outstretched arm revealing the culprit in disgust. 'The truth never tells lies! It's none other than the victims brother, you! Mr. James Hullet! Is the only one capable of killing her' he slowly put his outstretched hand into his front trouser pocket, and continued to smirk slightly.
The victim was thirty-two years of age, Mrs. Jane Hington, was found when the maid came at 05:30pm. The maid came every other week on a Wednesday to clean the house up. Jane Hington was strangled by a smooth rope like object; such an object hasn't been found in the room.
'What are you saying? That's preposterous!! I have
:iconDetectiveJimmy:DetectiveJimmy
:icondetectivejimmy:DetectiveJimmy 0 1
Literature
Novel Advertisement
The War of the Shadows
By Sean Hastings
     Sam Marks, a twenty-nine-year-old intelligence prodigy and high-ranking officer in the Counterproliferation Center of the CIA's National Clandestine Service, has been murdered in Atlanta, Georgia while trying to reconcile with his estranged wife. The people he worked with and commanded are shocked by his death, but hardly anyone is more saddened by his demise than twenty-six-year-old Arab-American officer Holly Assad.
    Holly, a skilled linguist and intelligence analyst, was Sam's protégé. She also had feelings for him, kept unrequited because of Sam's loyalty to his wife, despite how rocky his marriage to a civilian may have been. Motivated by Sam's death, she finds herself working with the lead investigator of the crime: Inspector General Special Agent Daniel Marston, an African-American with a Counterintelligence and Marine Corps background. Travelling to Atlanta, where the local po
:iconSouthernWriter2:SouthernWriter2
:iconsouthernwriter2:SouthernWriter2 2 9
Literature
LOUISA/CRANE-1
 THE GIRL WHO WANTED TO BE A KNIGHT
A frail infant girl lay crying among the ruins of the once-proud kingdom of Dahl, which had been destroyed by the army of the Orwellian king Ivan-Alric Desanti the day before. Wrapped in a small white blanket with burnt edges, the child coughed weakly as the minutes passed, with her body losing out to the harsh winds of the coming winter.
Then by Heaven's grace came Sir William DiMather on his white horse, who was one of King Ivan's noble knights. Sent to Dahl to scout for any war survivors to take prisoner,  Sir William heard the infant's cries and found her just in time - right before Death could put out her flame of life.
Getting off his horse frantically, Sir William decided check for any wounds on the child's body that might need treatment. To his relief, he found none but when he set his eyes on the child's back, he nearly dropped her in shock, for there, between her shoulder blades, he saw a flame-shaped marking, which made this
:iconjunewralley:junewralley
:iconjunewralley:junewralley 22 54
Literature
A Christmas Gift
"She'll give you the money, if you..."
"If I get rid of her. Course she'd say that!" He bowed his head guiltily and she pressed her forehead to the window, her red lips leaving berry stains on the window of his office. She straightened up and stretched her arms back. It was only then he saw the bulge against the loose fabric. "I can't, not just for the money."
"How far along are you?"
She smiled. "About 4 months. She's growing well too. I really do understand what Joy said about morning sickness though. How is Laurie?"
"Doing well. He just had his third birthday. He was asking for you."
"I miss that boy. And his mum's doing well? You're treating Joy well, right?"
"Yes, of course. I love that woman. What about the child's father? Is he still a part of your life?"
"No, not once I got pregnant. I couldn't keep living like that..."
"Sometimes, I think I should have told her, the first time I had to bring you home. Maybe then you wouldn't be in this state and I would still be able to get yo
:iconwhildchild:whildchild
:iconwhildchild:whildchild 4 13
Literature
Lucy
Lucy, a Mare's Unfortunate Life
Chapter 1

I couldn't believe it! One minute I was foaled and the next day, ‎men had taken me away from my mother.‎
What cruel fate rested upon me, I wasn't sure. All I wanted to ‎do was go back to my mother. My stables, my home…‎
I wobbly walked around my new-but-dark chamber. It was big ‎enough for me to roam around inside. I felt hay beneath my tiny ‎feet. The only light was from a super-tiny window in the door.‎
Just then, the door opened and many men-figures came in. ‎Most of them had ropes-one of them had a leather strap, I could ‎scent it. Being away from my mother was bad enough but now this. ‎What cruel world am I living in?‎
They came around me. I couldn't escape. The door shut after ‎the last man came in. The man's image with the leather strap came ‎up to me first. He quickly wrapped the leather around my nose. It felt ‎tight around my nose an
:iconTeen-Lyoko-Fan7777:Teen-Lyoko-Fan7777
:iconteen-lyoko-fan7777:Teen-Lyoko-Fan7777 2 19
Literature
Alien story
Chapter 1‎
Homeroom; the most tentative period of the day. I looked at ‎the clock on the wall. The time read 2:59. Come on, I urged, ring.‎
Five seconds…four seconds…three seconds…two…‎
RING!‎
Yes, I'm free! No more school for the rest of the day. What ‎luck! I went over to Kayleigh Berger's locker and saw its owner ‎figuring her combo. The beautiful, smart, blond-haired girl beat me at ‎Dodge ball in PE today, but I didn't let it hurt me. "Hey Kay," I called.‎
‎"Hey, Cassidy," she said.‎
‎"Well, I'm going to play Guitar Hero at home! Do you wanna ‎join me?" I asked, showing my crooked-in-front smile.‎
‎"I'm sorry, Cassidy, I can't! 'Maybe next time?"‎
‎"Aw, don't sweat it!" I said undaunted, walking to the exit. "Bye, ‎Kayleigh!"‎
‎"Bye, Cassidy!"‎
As I walked out of school, I felt something hit me from behind. ‎I felt something on my
:iconTeen-Lyoko-Fan7777:Teen-Lyoko-Fan7777
:iconteen-lyoko-fan7777:Teen-Lyoko-Fan7777 1 0
“The Silent Siren was thrashing around the Crystallian Sea, the water almost enveloping it with every new wave it threw. No one on the ship knew if this was going to be the beginning or the end of the storm in front of them. All they knew was that the sea was angry at them. Many believed that it was the gods way of saying that their purpose was a foolish one – to go to the village of Rein to decide if Spelcrafters should have their way and be free from Emperor Nicolai’s grasp or be held forever in his iron grip. There were some odd passengers on this ship, a Paladin and a general who would be entrusted to watch the Spelcrafters, ensuring the safety of others. There was also the general’s sister, a young woman wanted to prove herself in the way of espionage. There was many a member of the clergy on this ship as well, but none were as interesting as the Spelcrafting leader of the Stroneth’s Bards theatre troupe and his dwarven companion, who happens to be the protagonist of tonight’s tale...”
Tapping my quill on my chin, I stare at the page, pondering what I should write next. I always wanted to write a play that was based on myself, and since I am bored out of my mind, I decided now was the perfect time to give it a try...again. Twirling my long brunette hair around my fingers, I continue staring at the page deep in thought, but I still find myself blanking on any of the words I could use to describe myself. This is a tricky thing to do when trying not to reveal too much. All of a sudden, a large pale hand snatches the paper off my desk from behind. Taken back, I immediately jump out of my chair, turning around to face the thief. Unfortunately, I can’t say much because, standing in front of me was Olivier. Half of his reddish-brown hair is tied into a loose ponytail, while the rest barley touches his shoulders. A deep red scarlet necklace dangles around his neck and his deep oaken brown eyes are full of skepticism as he examines my writing. The human shakes his head softly and shoves the page into my chest. “Locke, how many times do I have to tell you that works of nonfiction never do us any good! All it does is bore people to death!”
“Tell me Olivier, if I were your precious Donello would this even be a conversation right now?”
“If you were Donello there would be no reason for it.” Olivier snaps, “He just listens to what I say the first time. No questions asked.”
My onyx black eyes burn holes into the back of the Spelcrafter’s skull as he made his way to the stairs back to the Silent Siren’s deck. I felt these same eyes roll back so deep into my head as I mutter, “In bed.”
“What did you just say?” Olivier barks as he turns back towards me.
“I said that Donello doesn’t give a shit about your beliefs!” I snap back, slamming the paper onto the desk, “If he did, he would be here on this godforsaken ship instead of me! There’s a difference between a bedmate and a lover!”
“Oh and I suppose that you know all about that, don’t you dwelf?” Olivier replies.
I open my mouth but close it just as quickly. If there was anything I had learned throughout the years, it was when Olivier was asking me a loaded question. My dark eyes set their gaze to the floor, clenching my fists at my sides. There was a time when I could have easily called myself Oliver’s lover, but the term was much looser these days. Sheepishly glancing back at Olivier, I couldn’t help but notice a wry smile on his face. He knew that he had won this battle, and I resent him for it.
“That’s what I thought. Now, why don’t you go and write something that will make the Bards some real coin for once.”
My face begins to burn, anger flowing through my veins. Real coin?! My plays were the only reason we even had any money! Olivier’s shoulders relax as he let out a sigh, then he approaches me and cups my face in his hands. His hands are soft as lilies when they first bloom in the spring. The human looks directly into my eyes as he pushes my hair behind my slightly pointed ear. “Now don’t go looking at me like that. You’ll ruin your pretty face and give yourself wrinkles.” his eyes softening as he bends down and continues in a hush whisper,
“If everything goes well in Rein maybe you and I can start a new life, get away from all the drama back in Stroneth.”
Gods why did he have to look at me like that?! It is usually hard for me to stay upset with him when he starts giving me those loving eyes. A smile starts to find its way to my face, my body starting to release its tension. If this were any other time, I would have let Olivier kiss me tenderly, leaving nothing but a trail of passion behind us. I almost fall for his words when the image of a deep skin elven man in silken fuchsia scarves floods kissing Olivier passionately clouds my mind, my heart beginning to race. Without a second thought, I slap Olivier’s hand off my face and turn my head away from him. “The only reason why there is anything wrong back home is your fault.” I hiss.
“Is it amorena?” Olivier ask before he whispers into my ear again, “Or is it yours?”
Refusing to look at the human, I hear him ascend the rickety stairs leading to the ship’s deck. The door shut tight behind him, soft enough to seem like a sweet ending to conversation to most. But to me, it was an unbridled rage. I want to scream so loud that it would deafen everyone above me, but I know that it will accomplish nothing. “Get away from the drama. There wouldn’t be any drama if you kept your hands to yourself!” throwing my arms in the air at the absurdity of it all, “Dammit, that was a good comeback! Why didn’t I say that when he was here?” I let out a groan, slamming my fists against my head, “Stupid, stupid, stupid dwelf! You never say the right shit when you need to!” The building pressure of anger and frustration becomes too much to bear, and in blind moment of rage I flip the desk over. However, this did not quell the frustration still seething deep within my chest.
I look down at the paper on the floor, the bottle of black ink spilling all over it. Normally I would have instantly panicked and tried to save the manuscript, but nothing was normal. I didn’t expect it to be for a while, not with how our conversation went. An image of Donello flashes through my mind again and jealousy fuels my thoughts. Just thinking of how that dancing bastard flounces around and would make a fool of himself just to get attention infuriates me! What the hell did he have that I didn’t anyway?! It clearly isn’t knowing Olivier for eight years and being in a relationship for six of those! Donello is not known for his smarts either, that son of a bitch. The only thing he has right now that I don’t is...no. No, he didn’t have that. I have that! Olivier wouldn’t have agreed to letting me go with him to Rein if Donello had that...right?
Olivier’s smiling brown eyes appear in my mind with Donello in his arms, letting the human commanding the elf’s waking days. As Donello and Olivier’s laughter floods my mind, I grit my teeth and snatch the dripping manuscript off the floor, ripping it to shreds, watching the pieces fall to the ground like snow. The bottle of ink was my next victim as I threw it hard across the room. The glass bottle explodes into a million tiny pieces as the ink leaves a stain on the wall. Next is the quill. Seizing it from the floor with my ink-covered hand. I am about to rip the swan feather asunder until my dark onyx eyes spot the engraving on the white glass handle. The inscription was hand carved by Olivier and his gift to me long before we had even considered a relationship...and his way of confessing his love. My eyes gaze upon the golden lettering that was carved by those delicate hands seven years ago – Let no one steal your brilliant mind. It is only yours, and why out of everyone in Stroneth, it is you who are mine, amorena.
Tears fill my eyes as I read those words. Remembering how long he had spent saving every piece of gold he could get his hands on to buy me this, after I had finally run away from my father’s noble home in the “dwarven utopia” of Heilwig. Before I even considered being in a relationship with anyone. Before the pain of slowly drifting apart. Before Donello was in our lives...before...
I fall to my knees and begin to silently sob as I hold the quill tight to my chest. The only thing that Donello has that I don’t is Olivier’s affections. What had happened to us? The world used to be so simple! Now Spelcrafters that didn’t serve Emperor Nicolai are considered illegal and in danger, having to hide from the emperor’s Paladins. Donello could give less of a damn about that, so long as he has a body to warm his bed. What was it going to take for Olivier to see that after all the temptations I have endured that I still care for him and him alone? I offered to go to the Petition with him when Donello refused, didn’t I? As I curl into a ball on the floor, my short breaths begin to even out. I closed my eyes, praying that this was all a dream and that I would wake from it soon, that Olivier and I never met Donello, that we were back in our small flat in Stroneth...that everything was normal.
  • • •
“Olivier wait for me! Please, don’t go to the Petition! It’s dangerous out there and you know it! What if a Paladin sees you?!” I cry out as I reach for the beige robes of the Spelcrafter.
The human turns around and quickly snaps back, “What part of this Petition is history in the making don't you get? Not only that, but the right side of it? You support the idea of mages being legal no matter what, don’t you?”
“You know I do Olivier! I want you and every mage to be free to do what they want whether they serve His Majesty or not!” I beg him as my anxiety grows with every second, “What I don’t agree with is going to a place where you know people are rioting!”
“Sometimes people get hurt for the greater good of all humanity!” Olivier counters, his dark brown eyes never leaving my face, “Haven’t you heard that sometimes to save the majority some sacrifices must be made? That if you remain quiet that nothing gets done?”
I pull on Olivier’s robes even harder, my head shaking violently, tears streaming down my face, “But that doesn’t mean you have to be one of them! Why can’t you just stay here where it’s safe and-”
Suddenly Olivier’s lips begin to caress mine, his warm hands holding my face. His thumbs wipe away my tears as I begin to kiss him back. I never thought that Olivier would kiss me this way again...it felt like eons ago when this was normal. When he pulls away from me, there was a small smile on his face. Olivier pushes away my brunette hair and whispers, “If you don’t want to come that’s fine. Just...promise you’ll wait here for me? I’ll be back before the sun rises over the mountain...ok?”
I cast my gaze over towards the ground, then slowly nod my head as I whisper softly, “Promise.”
I look up at Olivier one last time and let go of his robes, watching them fall gently to the ground. The mage kisses my forehead and says with a grin that would make angels jealous, “I’ll be back before you know it! Promise!”
Before he could turn away from me, Olivier’s eyes flash into light hazel with hints of red. His gentle face shifts into a bloodthirsty one, his hands moving from his sides to his face as if he is covering it. My blood curdles at the sight of this grotesque transformation. What was going on? Why was this happening? Then slowly, blood starts appearing all over his body. “Why did you stop trying to persuade me Locke? Aren’t you here to save me amorena?” Shaking my head in disbelief, I begin to back away from Olivier. This isn’t real, it can’t be! I try to run away from the horrific sight, but it isn’t long before Olivier is in front of me, his face soft but eyes threatening. “I wonder,” he began as he tapped his chin inquisitively, “How long will it take for the fox to find you? Shouldn’t be too long now.”
A cloak figure's silhouette emerges from the shadow beneath him and wraps itself around my body. Another voice joins Olivier’s in a laugh that could cause anyone discomfort. I couldn’t move even if I want to. I could feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest, just like it had that day. No matter how much I try to scream, my voice is silent. Suddenly, something explodes behind Olivier. Then the sky turns into a deep orange, creating a wide opening. Wails of fear surround me in all directions. However, it did not dampen Olivier’s maniacal laughter.
“You didn’t answer my question Locke!” he spat, taking my face in his hands, eyes completely red, his necklace glowing brighter than the sun, “I thought you were supposed to be my savior!” His hands become cold as he traces down my wet body and... wait a minute...
  • • •
I quickly get off the floor, my side soaking wet from the water that is streaming down the stairs. The ship tips sharply towards the starboard side, sending me flying towards the ink covered wall. The quill in my hand shatters from the impact of the blow, but I don’t have time to think about that. I try to gather my balance to stand, but the ships rock violently back and forth. Every time I get to my feet, I am back on the ground as the ship is down in another direction. I manage to grab a hold on the wall and carefully make my way to the door. If this ship keeps moving like this, water won’t be the only thing on the floor. Climbing the slippery stairs, I can hear the screams of the crew above my head becoming louder the further I ascend the staircase. Soon I am able to reach the cabin door, water pouring out from the small crack at the bottom. I grasp the handle firmly with my trembling hand, but to my utter horror it doesn’t move. I could feel the water soaking through my boots as I vigorously shake the handle of the door. “Hey! Is anyone out there? Someone let me out of here please!” I cry out, frantically slamming the door with my other hand. Desperate to get out, I throw my weight against the timber door. A resounding crack echos throughout the cabin. However, the noise wasn’t coming from the wooden barrier.
Is that...ice? Why the hell is there ice back there? There’s only ice on a ship this size if...shit! I throw my weight against the door harder than before. Pain surges through my shoulders as I curse, “Of all the things I didn’t get from my father, why did it have to be strength?!”
Why the hell did the Spelcrafters have to freeze the blasted door! Annoyance overtakes my nervousness as the situation becomes even more infuriating. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head. Carefully, I back away from the door and down onto the stairs trying not to fall on the slick surface. Then bracing myself, I burst into a sprint, charging towards the door at full speed. If this didn’t work, I’m breaking my shoulder for nothing. Thankfully, the door splits open with the hinges barely hanging on the frame. Finally, I am on deck, but my newfound happiness is seamlessly replaced with the dread I had felt moments ago.
My body freezes in place. Staring in awe as the waves of the Crystallian Sea are hitting the ship. Clergy members scramble to heal anyone who is injured while some of the Spelcrafters are trying to freeze the waves as their fellows are being pulled overboard. Others had decided that their freedom was not worth facing this storm and willingly threw themselves to the depths below. The ship continues rocking back and forth violently, the tides worsening with each passing second. Was I better off staying in the cabin and drowning there? Then a horrible realization dawns on me. Where is Olivier? My breath starts to quicken, and terror grips my heart. Oh gods...did he get tossed to the sea already?! Was he up on the mast?! I look around hysterically, trying to find him in the crowd of confusion and fear. At this moment I want nothing more than to run into his arms and hold him close.
Before the panic completely takes over me, someone shakes me. “Locke? Locke, can you hear me? Locke!” I didn’t have time to answer before they start slapping my face to bring me back to reality. Jenna’s shoulders relax when I stop her onslaught, but her lilac eyes are filled with terror. “Thank the gods you’re alright!” Jenna says with relief in her voice, as she twists my body to face the mast, “You know how to bring up the trysail right?”
The color in my face drains away as I look up at the impossibly tall pole. Before I even consider answering her, the ship begins thrashing about, worse than what I felt in the cabin below. Jenna manages to grab one of the ropes nearby with one hand and me with the other. The remaining crew members cry out in despair as they are falling to their demise. I make the mistake of looking down into the watery depths below, watching everyone clawing the ocean to stay afloat, stealing what little air they could only to be swallowed up by the sea once again. If there was any rosiness left in my cheeks, it’s gone now. I’m holding onto Jenna for dear life, even after the ship returns to an upright position. I turn my eyes back to Jenna, searching for an answer “Jenna, if you don’t mind me asking, what the hell is a-”
Jenna didn’t give me time to finish my sentence as she shoves me towards the mast and screams “Just take the rope on the mast and pull it towards you! That should bring up the trysail and make our main sail come down!”
As I look to the mast and the lightning cracking in the sky above it. I nervously nod to Jenna and run towards the mast as fast as I can, fighting to keep my balance as the ship teeters back and forth. Dammit, of all the people to ask to fix whatever a ‘try sail’ was, why did Jenna have to ask the one person who’s never been on a ship his whole life? When I reached the mast, I took hold of the rope and started pulling it with all my might. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get the damned thing to move. Am I even doing this right? Frustration fills me as waves splash all over the deck. I had stopped paying attention to it for a while as I kept tugging the rope, hoping that soon it will release the mainsail.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a rush of the sea coming right at me. My eyes widen in fear as it comes closer. Is this my final fate, dying completely alone? Before the water could hit me, a nearby mage freezes the water. I didn’t get a chance to look at my savior, for soon my question was answered. A fair hand, larger than mine placed itself over my beige hand – one that I am all too familiar with. I look up at Olivier in relief as he starts pulling the rope. He met my gaze, his eyes filled with as much fear as I felt before they filled with annoyance. “Are you just going to keep giving me bedroom eyes or are you going to help me lift this thing?” He barks.
My relief was short lived, quickly replaced with frustration. “It’s about damned time you showed up!” I fuss while tugging on the rope even harder than before, “Where the hell have you been? I have been worried sick about you!”
Then, up above I saw the lightning increasing by the second. The sound of the sea and thunder becomes so loud it is deafening. When I blinked, I thought I saw the sky split open and turn orange...just like in my dream. I look over at Olivier and watch in shock as his face switches from the one I know and the one with the strange eyes. Then, the sky cracks louder than it had before, the lightning strikes the mast and the mainsail bursts into flames. Judging by the way this wooden pole was leaning, I knew that it wouldn’t hit me when it fell. Without even thinking, I push Olivier away from the mast as the wood begins to be set ablaze. Olivier looks annoyed at first, but this is soon replaced with a fear I have never seen on his face before as he looks behind me.
But by the time I turn around, it is too late. The next wave had already cleared the starboard side of the ship and crashes directly into me. I can feel the water fill my body quickly as I grab hold to the unstable mast. I didn’t even begin to spit up water after it had releases me before something strikes me in the back of my head.
More Journal Entries

Admins

Founder


:iconteen-lyoko-fan7777:

Co-Founders


:iconthat-witch-bitch::iconpunch-the-clock07::iconoperaprincess90:

Deviants

Affiliates

:iconunseenartists::iconpoetryforall::iconallpoetry::iconflying-fingers::iconnewbiepoeticwriters::icontheboulderrocks::iconcharacters-we-love::iconscribes-are-beckoned::iconarougu::iconkataang-lovers::iconlibrary-of-stories::iconsad-writers::iconbleach-crazy::iconyoufiction-haven::icondeusink::iconjerlitashippersunite::iconstories-of-all-types::iconnataliatenaluv::icongods-quill-cavalry::iconpencilheadache::iconwritersstorytellers::iconlit-crit-and-reviews::iconcapstaang::iconkuroshitsujifanfics::iconteenagedliterature::iconxxichirukiftwxx::iconwriting-to-save::iconlooselacespoetry::iconall-is-permitted::iconbeautyinthepages:

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconnightligt:
NightLigt Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2020  Hobbyist Writer
Is this group still active?
Reply
:iconnashsuxx:
NashSuxx Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2020
I was wondering the same. I was considering making a writers group if you were interested or maybe if you know of an active one?
Reply
:iconfreyjadavidson:
freyjadavidson Featured By Owner Aug 11, 2021   Writer
Tell me if you do so.
Reply
:iconimpmon282:
Impmon282 Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2018  Professional General Artist
Thank you very much for requesting my story :iconyuihugplz:
I appreciate it so much :hug:
Reply
:iconkittysib:
KittySib Featured By Owner Apr 5, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Poetry folder is full
Reply
:icongdpr-26018400:
gdpr-26018400 Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Poetry folder is full.
Reply
:iconrvalentine94:
rvalentine94 Featured By Owner Sep 17, 2016
Sorry for posting two days late.  I was crunched for time lol :)
Reply
:iconrvalentine94:
rvalentine94 Featured By Owner Jul 28, 2016
Hi everyone.  Thanks for accepting me and I really look forward to reading your works and to share mine with you :) (Smile)
Reply
:icontia-45:
TIA-45 Featured By Owner Dec 4, 2015

Hey all,

A friend and I are attempting to start up a new (free!) e-published magazine featuring all kinds of writing arts! We'll also be including a section for comics each month too! We are currently looking for submissions to be featured in the first issue, details can be found here: anaphorablog.wordpress.com/

If you would like a chance to be featured in the first issue, see the link and consider contributing (guidelines for doing so are included on the blog)!

Reply
:iconcaptain-red-feather:
Captain-Red-Feather Featured By Owner Oct 16, 2015
Do you allow 'adult' themed stories?
Reply
Add a Comment: