owlmessenger
Parts Guy Extraordinaire
- Location
- New York
Harry And The Shipgirls: Prisoner of Shipping (A HP/KanColle Snippet Collection)
- Thread starter Harry Leferts
- Start date
- Crossover
still_guns
For the Empire!
- Location
- Bridge of ISS Conundrum
Yeah, that's the 32 pounder I was talking about (the AT gun was based upon that AA gun). Still not a lot of guns with that kind of calibre, especially 96mm.Uh, not as strange as you might think:
QF 3.7-inch AA gun - Wikipedia
en.m.wikipedia.org
- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
Nope.
Lord K is from New Zealand and was the creator of the Muramasas. He had to take about a year off thanks to Rl craziness and hasn't been active on the thread since, alas. Pity since he's a DAMN good writer.
Lord Khuzdul is a Turk* and is the guy responsible for the Turkish Navy (Yavuz, Muavanet, etc.) as well as the Middle Eastern 'keep everything from blowing up' Council of Shadows (Scherezade, Sinbad, Hizir, Lokman, etc). He's not super-active as a writer but he is active (and in fact is the reason why Del's babysitting Ataturk in America, that's to help with his arc in Turkey).
*I never asked him the specifics, but he's fromt hat part of the world and has a LOT of local knowledge about history/folklore there. The battle that Ataturk commanded during the Turkish War of Independence (and then resummoned the troops from there to fight Enver) was one I had never even really heard of, although I'd heard about Samkurmis (Enver's fuckup) in passing when I read Tuchley's Guns of August a couple decades ago.
If you or other folks think of more, add em, this was me going off the top of my head right before I crashed.
Naah, it's fine and a useful reference.
This, very much this, and if you look up my A Winter's Shadow over Kingsport arc in this thread you get to see what Del was up to that nearly got her killed.
Yep, seriously, if you read the aforementioned arc (just search my name, 'Kingsport', and 1K words here, you get to see Del and Zammy having fun. And the destruction was one part Abyssal attack and one part 'someone went wild with Fiendfyre fighting the Abyssals' in MACUSA's book.
Some of them, like TOTEM suspect that Del (and 'Emma') were involved in the mess and died there, but the going thinking then is that she ported in to reinforce and Emma lost control of the Fiendfyre rather than the actual black op. Especially since there was a REAL mess made of things and the timing of Del's 'death' is the only proof that she was there.
Yep. Charles has known Del since the late 1860s at Ilvermorny and has a lot of (pretty accurate) suspicions about his junior partner/trainee back in the day. Starting with how she got ageless and continuing through her private social life and flaming liberal No-Maj lover political leanings. He's privately sure that she is a closeted lesbian who had a long runnign relationship with Louise and then Emma for example, although he chalks that personality quirk up to the stigma of her birth being the product of an illegitimate extramaritial affair between Jez and David Potter, for example.
A/N: After a quick check with @SisterJeanne, I repost my prior mini-snip.
Why do I always forget to put certain things in my snippets? Here're two excerpts from the extended version of the conversation between Lieutenant Deckard and Chief Bridges:
__________
"July? Damnit, I was back in America when it happened. I should have been there for her!"
"Charles, you were helping your remaining family get back into the swing of things, getting their death records expunged and the like. That was more important. And you were halfway across the country, so you were in no position to help her."
"But-"
"No 'buts.' Besides, from what you've told me about her in the past, Delilah would have told you the same thing."
Charles closed his mouth and slumped in the chair. "Sad thing is that you're right. She would have said that."
__________
"You know, *hic* Del and I bonded a little in school over bullying."
"Wait, did you two bully people?"
"Hee-*hic*. God no. We were both targets, over practically the same thing: Papas. *Hic* No one knew who Del's father was, no matter what her mama said." He trailed off in a coughing fit. "As for me, on my Mama's side, there hadn't been a magical born since Salem, and my Papa? You could scrounge back all the way to the Wars of the Roses and not find anyone. So a bunch of high-born bastards were utterly convinced that my Mama slept with someone who wasn't my Papa to have me. Took me until Fifth Year to beat it out of 'em. *Hic* So they switched to Del." He finished draining his fifth glass. "'Course, they soon learned that, just 'cause we din't get alon' so well din't mean that I wouldn't stand up for a fellow classmate."
Seeing the state of his once-superior fellow officer, Nelson knew how today's dose of sobering potion would be used.
__________
And some extra factoids:
1) Unlike Jorogumo, Anitza only has two forms. Her non-human form has six chitin-plated arms with two in the proper human position and the extra 4 coming out of her back. As well, she has six dark green eyes and chitin plating on her lower legs.
2) Charles is quite a bit older than his boss (They just left the 2:1 ratio behind a few years ago.). The reason is that the guys in charge of MACUSA Aurors overall decided that he was getting too old, but he was also too good to fire. So, for his 130th birthday present in 1980, he was demoted, and his 2IC, Nelson Bridges, was promoted to replace him.
Why do I always forget to put certain things in my snippets? Here're two excerpts from the extended version of the conversation between Lieutenant Deckard and Chief Bridges:
__________
"July? Damnit, I was back in America when it happened. I should have been there for her!"
"Charles, you were helping your remaining family get back into the swing of things, getting their death records expunged and the like. That was more important. And you were halfway across the country, so you were in no position to help her."
"But-"
"No 'buts.' Besides, from what you've told me about her in the past, Delilah would have told you the same thing."
Charles closed his mouth and slumped in the chair. "Sad thing is that you're right. She would have said that."
__________
"You know, *hic* Del and I bonded a little in school over bullying."
"Wait, did you two bully people?"
"Hee-*hic*. God no. We were both targets, over practically the same thing: Papas. *Hic* No one knew who Del's father was, no matter what her mama said." He trailed off in a coughing fit. "As for me, on my Mama's side, there hadn't been a magical born since Salem, and my Papa? You could scrounge back all the way to the Wars of the Roses and not find anyone. So a bunch of high-born bastards were utterly convinced that my Mama slept with someone who wasn't my Papa to have me. Took me until Fifth Year to beat it out of 'em. *Hic* So they switched to Del." He finished draining his fifth glass. "'Course, they soon learned that, just 'cause we din't get alon' so well din't mean that I wouldn't stand up for a fellow classmate."
Seeing the state of his once-superior fellow officer, Nelson knew how today's dose of sobering potion would be used.
__________
And some extra factoids:
1) Unlike Jorogumo, Anitza only has two forms. Her non-human form has six chitin-plated arms with two in the proper human position and the extra 4 coming out of her back. As well, she has six dark green eyes and chitin plating on her lower legs.
2) Charles is quite a bit older than his boss (They just left the 2:1 ratio behind a few years ago.). The reason is that the guys in charge of MACUSA Aurors overall decided that he was getting too old, but he was also too good to fire. So, for his 130th birthday present in 1980, he was demoted, and his 2IC, Nelson Bridges, was promoted to replace him.
- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
A. N. -- First Crosspost of the day here. Well there's a reason haunted houses are popular (music's important BTW)....
Come Into My Parlor, Said The Jorogumo To Her Flies....
Yokosuka Naval Base
31 October 2014 (Halloween)
Eric grinned at the unsure expressions and wide eyes as the adorable midget subgirls, all of whom were in costume and showing off their Yokai features, formed up in a flotilla behind their 'big sister' tender submarine and their parents.
Samantha gave her charges a satisfied nod as she surveyed the children's excited and eager faces. She them said with a broad grin. "So, is everyone ready for the haunted house?"
"Haaaaiiii~~" the subs chorused, then one piped up in a confused voice. "What's a haunted house?"
Eric leaned closer to his girlfriend and whispered in her ear. "I remember you saying that to me the first time." His grin redoubled as he took the opportunity to peek at the expanse of her fuel tanks that were visible through the bodice of her 'witch's dress'.
Sora blushed as she realized what he was doing, gave him a kiss, then whispered lovingly back to him. "Hentai Cowboy~~" She giggled as they smoothly peeled away from the fleet that was heading to the entrance to the 'Kiddie Haunted House'. "So, ready for our first time experiencing the Adult Haunted House?"
Eric nodded. " I always wondered what it was like when our parents went there. They would put me and Sam off when we asked them afterward by saying that 'when we were old enough we'd find out'. Then...." He trailed off as his eyes shadowed.
Sora took his one remaining hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "I know. Izu."
Left unsaid was the nine year fight for survival for them, his sister, their best friend Yumiko, and the Jorogumo castaway Hinata when Blood Week happened. Nine years of fear and pain and despair as they thought that they were the only survivors in a once-peaceful world that had gotten upended in an instant as it went mad.
Eric had lost his arm in Blood Week and would always carry the visible scars of his injuries.
But the scars on their souls were even deeper and darker.
Even now, months after their rescue and return to civilization she had to prevent herself automatically hoarding food and overeating at meals. She knew Eric, Samantha, Yumiko and Hinata were the same way.
She was not the only one who remembered being one failed hunt or fishing trip, a failure of scavenging enough food from the wrecks of shipping, from death by starvation.
She had loved him before that dark day tore their innocence from them forever.
But seeing him, a human among shipgirls, unceasingly care for her in her weakness, provide for her despite his injured body with the strength of his mind, character, and will, giving her reasons to keep hope and keep living....
Her boilers burned hot and bright at the memories of the man whom she would marry.
She had loved him before that day as a child would love another child.
But when they had passed through the crucible of Blood Week and the battle for survival together, that childish love was refined and purified by the experiences that had scarred their souls.
Those experiences had smelted their love, refined it, and forged it into a bond between souls as strong and durable as her Yamato-class' armor belt.
Then as they reached the entrance, her lips curled in a vixen's smile full of love, desire, and anticipation.
She knew Eric almost better than he knew himself, and she also knew that the love that they shared was great enough for another worthy soul, who had also been forged in the cauldron of Blood Week, to join them in a blissful union.
Besides, as a kitsune, she always enjoyed a good prank, and this promised to be a superb one if she knew the other person involved at all well.
And she did.
Her radio crackled to life and transmitted on the frequency that they had used while marooned on the Izu islands.
"Approaching the entrance."
Inside the haunted House, a Jorogumo shipgirl's boilers flamed hot and bright in her chest as she received the hoped-for signal.
They came... they actually came!
She scurried up the wall in her eight-legged 'Arachne' form like the spider that she was into the dimly lit rafters overhead where she had been waiting between 'scares' for the last few hours.
She surveyed the webs that she had spun while waiting for the next victims to ambush and terrify.
Her multiplicity of eyes had no problem at all with the near-darkness of the warehouse that had been turned into a horror show.
After all, Jorogumo were peerless predators among the Yokai.
She slipped off the 'work yukuta' that had been stained with fake blood and dirt, so that she could put on the special yukuta that she, her sister, and her mother had woven from their silk in preparation for this day.
Then Hinata grinned inhumanly wide, showing her fangs, as she waited patiently like the stealthy ambush predator that she had born to be.
Down below, she carefully watched the familiar forms of Eric and Sora making their way through the areas of the maze of attractions that the other staff manned.
Idly, she licked a drop of her venom from her fangs as the thrill of the hunt pounded through her body and soul at the sight of her chosen prey while she noiselessly and stealthily tracked them from overhead.
Her pedipalps moved slowly in a hunting rhythm as old as the first of her kind when the two screamed and jumped together at the sudden sight of 'Zombie Nagato-chan'.
Just a little closer....
Eric tried to still his beating heart as the door that they were pushing on to escape the zombies chasing them finally creaked open.
He stepped through, feeling Sora clutch him from behind, her gasping breath tickling the nape of his neck.
His eyes widened at the sight of the illusion of an ancient forest surrounding an ancient run-down Shinto shrine.
Ghostly wisps of mist drifted through the silent and still air without the hint of any life.
He started at the sound of the door slamming and locking behind them.
Then he took a step forward, eyes flickering from the torii gate to trees to shrine as the anticipation and dread built.
Suddenly Sora gave a muffled scream from directly behind him.
He whirled, and his eyes widened.
He was alone.
Sora had just vanished.
"S-Sora...." He called out, looking around for her.
Nothing.....
Suddenly Sora screamed again and trailed off into a... giggle?
Then he heard a young child's voice sadly singing a counting song from somewhere nearby.
Bells chimed, the haunting sound of a bamboo flute played, and the singer was now a mature woman's beautiful voice.
"W-who's there...?" He called out desperately, feeling his fear and anticipation build and build and build....
Then suddenly he was grabbed from behind.
Clawed and chitin-covered arms in a white spiderweb-patterned black furisode kimono held him in an unbreakable grip and a woman's ample curves pressed against him.
The singer sang in his ear seductively as he was pulled into the air by her on her silken thread that she had silently descended on to capture him.
It was Hinata, he realized now with his heart pounding in his chest.
His fear and terror was mixed with equally primal emotions.
He felt her silken hair tickle him as her lips trailed down from his ear to his neck, her breath hot on his skin.
Then she whispered to him in a sultry hungry voice that caused his mouth to go dry. "Jorogumo maidens enjoy the taste of their prey's blood. We mix it with our venom when we kill them... when we paralyze them to drag off to our larder to enjoy later... and...."
She gently placed him in her web among the rafters next to Sora, who was breathing heavily with a blissed-out unfocused expression on her face and a goofy smile. A fresh bite mark on Sora's neck was visible as he looked at his girlfriend lit by the blue light of her kitsune-bi foxfire flames.
Hinata moved in for the kill, showing him her ample bosom (that was barely contained by her spider-silk yukuta) and licking her lips. "...and for those special souls whom we love more than life itself...." Her eight eyes sparkled as she gently caressed his cheek with a clawed hand. "...we prepare a very special venom. Eric. Kun."
Her fangs found his neck.
He gasped in ecstasy at the sensation of her love bite injecting a small dose of her wonderful venom, matched by her moan of delight at her first taste of his sweet blood.
Author's Note: Translation of the song. Hell of a horror anime from the 1980s too....
Come Into My Parlor, Said The Jorogumo To Her Flies....
Yokosuka Naval Base
31 October 2014 (Halloween)
Eric grinned at the unsure expressions and wide eyes as the adorable midget subgirls, all of whom were in costume and showing off their Yokai features, formed up in a flotilla behind their 'big sister' tender submarine and their parents.
Samantha gave her charges a satisfied nod as she surveyed the children's excited and eager faces. She them said with a broad grin. "So, is everyone ready for the haunted house?"
"Haaaaiiii~~" the subs chorused, then one piped up in a confused voice. "What's a haunted house?"
Eric leaned closer to his girlfriend and whispered in her ear. "I remember you saying that to me the first time." His grin redoubled as he took the opportunity to peek at the expanse of her fuel tanks that were visible through the bodice of her 'witch's dress'.
Sora blushed as she realized what he was doing, gave him a kiss, then whispered lovingly back to him. "Hentai Cowboy~~" She giggled as they smoothly peeled away from the fleet that was heading to the entrance to the 'Kiddie Haunted House'. "So, ready for our first time experiencing the Adult Haunted House?"
Eric nodded. " I always wondered what it was like when our parents went there. They would put me and Sam off when we asked them afterward by saying that 'when we were old enough we'd find out'. Then...." He trailed off as his eyes shadowed.
Sora took his one remaining hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "I know. Izu."
Left unsaid was the nine year fight for survival for them, his sister, their best friend Yumiko, and the Jorogumo castaway Hinata when Blood Week happened. Nine years of fear and pain and despair as they thought that they were the only survivors in a once-peaceful world that had gotten upended in an instant as it went mad.
Eric had lost his arm in Blood Week and would always carry the visible scars of his injuries.
But the scars on their souls were even deeper and darker.
Even now, months after their rescue and return to civilization she had to prevent herself automatically hoarding food and overeating at meals. She knew Eric, Samantha, Yumiko and Hinata were the same way.
She was not the only one who remembered being one failed hunt or fishing trip, a failure of scavenging enough food from the wrecks of shipping, from death by starvation.
She had loved him before that dark day tore their innocence from them forever.
But seeing him, a human among shipgirls, unceasingly care for her in her weakness, provide for her despite his injured body with the strength of his mind, character, and will, giving her reasons to keep hope and keep living....
Her boilers burned hot and bright at the memories of the man whom she would marry.
She had loved him before that day as a child would love another child.
But when they had passed through the crucible of Blood Week and the battle for survival together, that childish love was refined and purified by the experiences that had scarred their souls.
Those experiences had smelted their love, refined it, and forged it into a bond between souls as strong and durable as her Yamato-class' armor belt.
Then as they reached the entrance, her lips curled in a vixen's smile full of love, desire, and anticipation.
She knew Eric almost better than he knew himself, and she also knew that the love that they shared was great enough for another worthy soul, who had also been forged in the cauldron of Blood Week, to join them in a blissful union.
Besides, as a kitsune, she always enjoyed a good prank, and this promised to be a superb one if she knew the other person involved at all well.
And she did.
Her radio crackled to life and transmitted on the frequency that they had used while marooned on the Izu islands.
"Approaching the entrance."
-----------------------------------
Inside the haunted House, a Jorogumo shipgirl's boilers flamed hot and bright in her chest as she received the hoped-for signal.
They came... they actually came!
She scurried up the wall in her eight-legged 'Arachne' form like the spider that she was into the dimly lit rafters overhead where she had been waiting between 'scares' for the last few hours.
She surveyed the webs that she had spun while waiting for the next victims to ambush and terrify.
Her multiplicity of eyes had no problem at all with the near-darkness of the warehouse that had been turned into a horror show.
After all, Jorogumo were peerless predators among the Yokai.
She slipped off the 'work yukuta' that had been stained with fake blood and dirt, so that she could put on the special yukuta that she, her sister, and her mother had woven from their silk in preparation for this day.
Then Hinata grinned inhumanly wide, showing her fangs, as she waited patiently like the stealthy ambush predator that she had born to be.
Down below, she carefully watched the familiar forms of Eric and Sora making their way through the areas of the maze of attractions that the other staff manned.
Idly, she licked a drop of her venom from her fangs as the thrill of the hunt pounded through her body and soul at the sight of her chosen prey while she noiselessly and stealthily tracked them from overhead.
Her pedipalps moved slowly in a hunting rhythm as old as the first of her kind when the two screamed and jumped together at the sudden sight of 'Zombie Nagato-chan'.
Just a little closer....
-----------------------------------
Eric tried to still his beating heart as the door that they were pushing on to escape the zombies chasing them finally creaked open.
He stepped through, feeling Sora clutch him from behind, her gasping breath tickling the nape of his neck.
His eyes widened at the sight of the illusion of an ancient forest surrounding an ancient run-down Shinto shrine.
Ghostly wisps of mist drifted through the silent and still air without the hint of any life.
He started at the sound of the door slamming and locking behind them.
Then he took a step forward, eyes flickering from the torii gate to trees to shrine as the anticipation and dread built.
Suddenly Sora gave a muffled scream from directly behind him.
He whirled, and his eyes widened.
He was alone.
Sora had just vanished.
"S-Sora...." He called out, looking around for her.
Nothing.....
Suddenly Sora screamed again and trailed off into a... giggle?
Then he heard a young child's voice sadly singing a counting song from somewhere nearby.
"Hitotsu, hitoyo no koi naraba
Futatsu, futari de jigoku e to
Mittsu, mina wo koroshitemo
Yottsu, yomi e no michishirube
Yottsu, yomi e no michishirube...."
Futatsu, futari de jigoku e to
Mittsu, mina wo koroshitemo
Yottsu, yomi e no michishirube
Yottsu, yomi e no michishirube...."
Bells chimed, the haunting sound of a bamboo flute played, and the singer was now a mature woman's beautiful voice.
"Hitotsu, hitoyo no koi naraba
Futatsu, futari de jigoku e to
Mittsu, mina wo koroshitemo
Yottsu, yomi e no michishirube
Yottsu, yomi e no michishirube~...."
Futatsu, futari de jigoku e to
Mittsu, mina wo koroshitemo
Yottsu, yomi e no michishirube
Yottsu, yomi e no michishirube~...."
"W-who's there...?" He called out desperately, feeling his fear and anticipation build and build and build....
"Itsutsu, ikusa no chi no ame no
Muttsu, mukuro to kawaryasenu
Nanatsu, namida mo kare hatete
Yattsu, yamiyo ga toketeyuku
Yattsu, yamiyo ga toketeyuku~...."
Muttsu, mukuro to kawaryasenu
Nanatsu, namida mo kare hatete
Yattsu, yamiyo ga toketeyuku
Yattsu, yamiyo ga toketeyuku~...."
Then suddenly he was grabbed from behind.
Clawed and chitin-covered arms in a white spiderweb-patterned black furisode kimono held him in an unbreakable grip and a woman's ample curves pressed against him.
The singer sang in his ear seductively as he was pulled into the air by her on her silken thread that she had silently descended on to capture him.
"Kokonotsu, konya wa shuugen wo~
Too de toiki wo shu ni somete~
Too de toiki wo shu ni somete~~...."
Too de toiki wo shu ni somete~
Too de toiki wo shu ni somete~~...."
It was Hinata, he realized now with his heart pounding in his chest.
His fear and terror was mixed with equally primal emotions.
He felt her silken hair tickle him as her lips trailed down from his ear to his neck, her breath hot on his skin.
Then she whispered to him in a sultry hungry voice that caused his mouth to go dry. "Jorogumo maidens enjoy the taste of their prey's blood. We mix it with our venom when we kill them... when we paralyze them to drag off to our larder to enjoy later... and...."
She gently placed him in her web among the rafters next to Sora, who was breathing heavily with a blissed-out unfocused expression on her face and a goofy smile. A fresh bite mark on Sora's neck was visible as he looked at his girlfriend lit by the blue light of her kitsune-bi foxfire flames.
Hinata moved in for the kill, showing him her ample bosom (that was barely contained by her spider-silk yukuta) and licking her lips. "...and for those special souls whom we love more than life itself...." Her eight eyes sparkled as she gently caressed his cheek with a clawed hand. "...we prepare a very special venom. Eric. Kun."
Her fangs found his neck.
He gasped in ecstasy at the sensation of her love bite injecting a small dose of her wonderful venom, matched by her moan of delight at her first taste of his sweet blood.
"Happy Halloween, Eric-kun, Sora-chan."
Author's Note: Translation of the song. Hell of a horror anime from the 1980s too....
Jadesteele
Out of my Mind - Back in 5 Minutes
- Location
- half-way between 'Crazy' And 'Eccentric'
Don't forget, things have changed - Moody might not BE the imposter now. Remember, it's been said that a mix of imperious and other stuff was responsible for harry being in the tournament - fake moody doesn't need to do that, so...
Wolf470
USS Exeter (Millenium Falcon class scout)
- Location
- East o' the Sun, West o' the Moon
Cool a excellent planning session! There are two things to remember with the Marauders Map : 1 - in canon several times everybody noticed Barty Crouch's name in the DADA office, nobody thought anything of it due to the fact that the Map does not show 'Senior' or 'Junior', if your name is Charles Winchester the third it will show that. It also showed that Alistor Moody was in the DADA office (where the trunk was) so nobody considered it a problem - 2 nobody actually knows if Barty Junior is actually in Hogwarts (I think it's likely with Winky being fired like that) However Barty Jr. might be taking care of Moldy-Voldy and someone else could be imperiousing Barty Senior to do the dirty work.
I can see Amelia getting involved - due to the crime. However I can't see Barty Senior telling anyone about this, he seems to want no interference in his department - he would rather cover things up than let anyone know things aren't working perfectly.
Heh, Heh, Heh - this was absolutely perfect!!
- Location
- United States
"Alright, I see we're all here. Let's get down to business."
Nearly two dozen Abyssals gathered around the conference table in the Avroran throne room. Every girl present was either a flagship, Princess, or Demon. Even Regalia was present, despite how much she felt she was out of their league.
"Before we get into the matter at hand," Tanith began, sitting back in her throne. "I'd like to go ahead and just get an update on what's going on with everyone. First up..." she gestured to Nuri. "The Mi-class. You told me the other day you'd begun construction on a second. How's that going?"
"Millie's little sister, yes... I think I'm going to name her Mione." Nuri nodded. She produced a couple sheets of paper from her hold and skimmed over them. "Her hull is about... sixty percent complete. Our recent salvage expeditions have been pulling in less usable metals, so construction has slowed down a bit. I've asked the JSDF for permission to break down two or three of the shipping containers we receive our supplies in; if they approve, I think I can have Mione up and about in the next week or so, otherwise it'll be some time around Thanksgiving."
"Hm." Tanith let out a huff. "A delay is disappointing, but not unexpected. If nothing else, Millie will be there to disseminate her own knowledge while we tend to other matters." She looked to Sunny. "Regarding the expeditions. How's Marble doing with her own sister-ships?"
"She's taking pretty well to being a big sister figure. Scratch and Polkadot like her. I think Blaze has picked up her fondness for shiny things, though; she's been asking about learning to make jewelry."
Jewelry, huh... a bit extravagant for Tanith, personally, but if another one of their kin found happiness in taking up a craft that could benefit them all, she wouldn't say no. "If we can get our hands on some reference material for her, she's welcome to give it a try," Tanith said with a shrug.
Ritou spoke with one of her imps for a moment before turning her attention back to the others. "On the subject of Internet... the hardware is in place now, running on the Omega's generators—a temporary solution, but one we know will work—and the network technicians have gotten all the protocol and whatever sorted out, but right now devices are only able to communicate locally. No information can get through the island's wards, as things stand. I asked Admiral Goto, and he says that Magical Kyoto may be able to help us develop some sort of workaround, if the barrier can't be modified. Some of their guys are due to arrive in the next few days to examine it."
Tanith responded with a thoughtful nod. "The communication barrier is unfortunate, but at the very least there is some hope. Let me know when they show up, will you? I wanted to ask them some questions myself."
"Can do."
"Right, then. Anything else of note..?" Tanith gave the group a once-over. "No? Very well. On to the matter at hand."
The Dreadnought leaned forward in her seat. "For those of you that haven't heard... or have only recently returned to us..." She glanced to Tampa and Wuffles at the far end of the table. "Someone is trying to kill Uncle Harry again."
Many of the girls grumbled or growled at the announcement. "...again...?" Tampa asked, her eyes narrowing. "This... happens often?"
"Distressingly so." Sunny rubbed her forehead. "By Grandma Nagato's count, something like this has happened EVERY school year... plus the occasional incident outside of Hogwarts, like the assault on the bunker."
Tanith nodded. "Yes. We first met Uncle Harry a little while after his second year; since then, he's been endangered on at least three separate occasions. Every time it's happened, it was either out of sight or in a place we can't set foot. But this time, things are different." She brought a hand to her chest. "This time... the Fleet of Laughter is in a position where we can actually help protect him, even if it's just a little."
"Put simply, some bastard posed as Harry to enter him into a deadly wizard of tournament against his will, and he can't just refuse to participate because there's supposedly some sort of curse that kills flakers," Sunny continued to explain. "But instead of exploring any and all possible options to ensure his safety, the politicians are being jackasses about it... not that I'd expect different from them... and just forcing him to compete."
"The thing is, however..." Tanith pointed out. "Every attempt on his life before this came from the shadows, with very little warning. There's no hiding something like this, rigging a three-man tournament to shoehorn in an underaged fourth contestant. Uncle Harry finally has justification. Justification to throw down the gauntlet. Justification to tell everyone he is sick of this shit. Justification... to call on his fleets."
Tanith was silent for the next minute, letting her sisters chatter among each other. She figured it best to let them get the rabble out of the way ahead of time, so that they could focus on what she had to say next. "Me and the rest of the sub-Fleet leaders have already come to a consensus. We're making arrangements with the school's staff to establish a full-time detachment at Hogwarts, to help where we can."
The other flagships turned to each other once more, uncertain. Ruadri was the first to speak up. "How big of a detachment are we talking about, here?" She asked. "He's already going to have Regina, his other girlfriends—" at her sisters' raised eyebrows, she shrugged. "I say it how I see it. But them, as well as the sailshipgirls usually stationed there? I doubt there's much room for a full Abyssal task force to be hanging around, scaring everyone."
"You're not wrong," Patty admitted. "That's why we've settled on six-man rotations. One to shadow Uncle Harry, two to guard his personal quarters, and three to linger around the public spaces observing things. You swap roles every twelve or so hours, with the observation group taking the time to rest, and at the seventy-two hour mark a new batch of six will come in to relieve the previous group. This way, we keep ears to the ground and eyes on our VIP pretty much at all times, while minimizing burnout and separation anxiety."
From her seat at the table, Regalia looked around at all her aunts. Everyone seemed a bit nervous... but also kind of excited.
"Alright, sisters..." Tanith said, clapping her hands together. "Unalaska was five years ago. It's time to show we're still capable of protecting the ones we love!" There was a chorus of agreement from the rest of her sisters, all of them ready to leave the safety of Avrora and start DOING something again.
"And let's try to avoid a repeat of the Mardi Gras incident, if possible! I've seen enough burning jock-straps for one lifetime..."
Nearly two dozen Abyssals gathered around the conference table in the Avroran throne room. Every girl present was either a flagship, Princess, or Demon. Even Regalia was present, despite how much she felt she was out of their league.
"Before we get into the matter at hand," Tanith began, sitting back in her throne. "I'd like to go ahead and just get an update on what's going on with everyone. First up..." she gestured to Nuri. "The Mi-class. You told me the other day you'd begun construction on a second. How's that going?"
"Millie's little sister, yes... I think I'm going to name her Mione." Nuri nodded. She produced a couple sheets of paper from her hold and skimmed over them. "Her hull is about... sixty percent complete. Our recent salvage expeditions have been pulling in less usable metals, so construction has slowed down a bit. I've asked the JSDF for permission to break down two or three of the shipping containers we receive our supplies in; if they approve, I think I can have Mione up and about in the next week or so, otherwise it'll be some time around Thanksgiving."
"Hm." Tanith let out a huff. "A delay is disappointing, but not unexpected. If nothing else, Millie will be there to disseminate her own knowledge while we tend to other matters." She looked to Sunny. "Regarding the expeditions. How's Marble doing with her own sister-ships?"
"She's taking pretty well to being a big sister figure. Scratch and Polkadot like her. I think Blaze has picked up her fondness for shiny things, though; she's been asking about learning to make jewelry."
Jewelry, huh... a bit extravagant for Tanith, personally, but if another one of their kin found happiness in taking up a craft that could benefit them all, she wouldn't say no. "If we can get our hands on some reference material for her, she's welcome to give it a try," Tanith said with a shrug.
Ritou spoke with one of her imps for a moment before turning her attention back to the others. "On the subject of Internet... the hardware is in place now, running on the Omega's generators—a temporary solution, but one we know will work—and the network technicians have gotten all the protocol and whatever sorted out, but right now devices are only able to communicate locally. No information can get through the island's wards, as things stand. I asked Admiral Goto, and he says that Magical Kyoto may be able to help us develop some sort of workaround, if the barrier can't be modified. Some of their guys are due to arrive in the next few days to examine it."
Tanith responded with a thoughtful nod. "The communication barrier is unfortunate, but at the very least there is some hope. Let me know when they show up, will you? I wanted to ask them some questions myself."
"Can do."
"Right, then. Anything else of note..?" Tanith gave the group a once-over. "No? Very well. On to the matter at hand."
The Dreadnought leaned forward in her seat. "For those of you that haven't heard... or have only recently returned to us..." She glanced to Tampa and Wuffles at the far end of the table. "Someone is trying to kill Uncle Harry again."
Many of the girls grumbled or growled at the announcement. "...again...?" Tampa asked, her eyes narrowing. "This... happens often?"
"Distressingly so." Sunny rubbed her forehead. "By Grandma Nagato's count, something like this has happened EVERY school year... plus the occasional incident outside of Hogwarts, like the assault on the bunker."
Tanith nodded. "Yes. We first met Uncle Harry a little while after his second year; since then, he's been endangered on at least three separate occasions. Every time it's happened, it was either out of sight or in a place we can't set foot. But this time, things are different." She brought a hand to her chest. "This time... the Fleet of Laughter is in a position where we can actually help protect him, even if it's just a little."
"Put simply, some bastard posed as Harry to enter him into a deadly wizard of tournament against his will, and he can't just refuse to participate because there's supposedly some sort of curse that kills flakers," Sunny continued to explain. "But instead of exploring any and all possible options to ensure his safety, the politicians are being jackasses about it... not that I'd expect different from them... and just forcing him to compete."
"The thing is, however..." Tanith pointed out. "Every attempt on his life before this came from the shadows, with very little warning. There's no hiding something like this, rigging a three-man tournament to shoehorn in an underaged fourth contestant. Uncle Harry finally has justification. Justification to throw down the gauntlet. Justification to tell everyone he is sick of this shit. Justification... to call on his fleets."
Tanith was silent for the next minute, letting her sisters chatter among each other. She figured it best to let them get the rabble out of the way ahead of time, so that they could focus on what she had to say next. "Me and the rest of the sub-Fleet leaders have already come to a consensus. We're making arrangements with the school's staff to establish a full-time detachment at Hogwarts, to help where we can."
The other flagships turned to each other once more, uncertain. Ruadri was the first to speak up. "How big of a detachment are we talking about, here?" She asked. "He's already going to have Regina, his other girlfriends—" at her sisters' raised eyebrows, she shrugged. "I say it how I see it. But them, as well as the sailshipgirls usually stationed there? I doubt there's much room for a full Abyssal task force to be hanging around, scaring everyone."
"You're not wrong," Patty admitted. "That's why we've settled on six-man rotations. One to shadow Uncle Harry, two to guard his personal quarters, and three to linger around the public spaces observing things. You swap roles every twelve or so hours, with the observation group taking the time to rest, and at the seventy-two hour mark a new batch of six will come in to relieve the previous group. This way, we keep ears to the ground and eyes on our VIP pretty much at all times, while minimizing burnout and separation anxiety."
From her seat at the table, Regalia looked around at all her aunts. Everyone seemed a bit nervous... but also kind of excited.
"Alright, sisters..." Tanith said, clapping her hands together. "Unalaska was five years ago. It's time to show we're still capable of protecting the ones we love!" There was a chorus of agreement from the rest of her sisters, all of them ready to leave the safety of Avrora and start DOING something again.
"And let's try to avoid a repeat of the Mardi Gras incident, if possible! I've seen enough burning jock-straps for one lifetime..."
Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
Glad to see you writing again! And this is an excellent return.
- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
By the way, in case folks wonder what Ehren is like while driving...
Aunt Myrtle, Puns, a new class of abyssal bomber (more like Attacker) and Harry begins to plan. I would bring in more than just Ayase though, I would bring in Yae (Gozaru/Boggles), and the reincarnates as well.
We're not going to be seeing Harry pull off thing seen in Naruto or DBZ are we? He shouldn't be that overpowered yet.
I hope to see more of Vala and Siusan in the coming snippets. I honestly miss them.
She has a point. Mort is going to target Harry on principle. Because A) Harry BEAT HIM, and now he wants revenge. And B) Mort wants to be unequalled. Greater than ANYONE alive. Someone who's said to be his equal NEEDS TO DIE in his eyes.
Some abyssals kill and torture their underlings simply because they can?
That sounds like Voldemort, someone who thinks he's so great, being beaten by someone that to him is a no better than a pathetic worm would give him a pathological NEED to get revenge. Am I right?
Why did people think that Del and Deckard were worthy of being picked on.
Firstly, I'm glad to see the Bakers again.
Secondly, Hinata would make a good Xenomorph actor. Remember the Original Alien movie? The one that takes place where No One Can Hear You Scream?
Thirdly, my favorite Horror Anime is the English Dub of Ghost stories.
And Savato93 makes a return!
Also the FoL's current plan is a good one.
What about having some fiber optic cables go to a radio tower that's outside of the wards?
Nice way to put it. The only thing missing is the change in font whenever the abyssals are speaking. A common mistake, really.
Last edited:
- Location
- United States
I just want to clarify a couple of things:
1. I don't feel the same motivation to write as I used to. I'm still doing my best to make snippets, but they probably won't come as often—maybe every couple of weeks.
2. Not gonna lie, the lack of font for Abyssal text is just me being lazy.
1. I don't feel the same motivation to write as I used to. I'm still doing my best to make snippets, but they probably won't come as often—maybe every couple of weeks.
2. Not gonna lie, the lack of font for Abyssal text is just me being lazy.
Makes sense. I'm wanting to make my own snippets, but I'm going to need my brother or a friend to help me type it up. I can't really write creatively, but my brother can. Now if only I can convince him to do this.
And I can understand you being lazy.
- Location
- Somewhere
And that's perfectly fine. You had a story you wanted to tell, and you told it well, and people greatly enjoyed it. Don't force yourself out of a sense of obligation to the audience. You owe us nothing. Write when you feel like writing, and not any other time.
What he said. Just, try to comment some. I kinda start to miss you.
Wolf470
USS Exeter (Millenium Falcon class scout)
- Location
- East o' the Sun, West o' the Moon
Well that's a good plan from Avora - - Only question is who gets to first shift (I can see a competition for it)
Yae and the Reincarnates are going to come in as well as Hoshi, Haru and several others. Ayase is probably going to train alongside Harry and then she will be sparring with him (Yae and the others are Masters - It's better for both Ayase and Harry to spar with someone on their level some of the time)
It turns out that I only have one more cross-post to do rather than two like I thought, as I had to combine two snips that were too short otherwise (as I had to do with a few of the Shild snippets).
__________
October 13, 1945
Tucson, Arizona
Flooing in from the Denver office where he'd reported back, Captain Charles Deckard sighed as he leaned against the side of the fireplace and took in the sight of his home. It was just as he left it: books, wood paneling on the walls, the phonograph and radio next to his favorite chair, everything. Idly, he used his wand to flick on the radio, and the smooth tones of a jazz band began to waft through the room.
"My momma done tol' me, when I was in knee-pants…"
It was as he was walking towards said chair that something amiss clicked for him: No one came to greet him. Drawing his wand and his newest gun, a cut-down M1 Garand, and began a search of the house.
It didn't take long for him to find out the reason why his family hadn't formed a welcoming committee. There was a letter on the dining room table dated to February of the previous year. In it, his wife explained how she could not handle the stress of waiting for news of if he was alright any longer, so she had packed up her things and taken their son back to her family out East.
As he read, he logically knew that he should be feeling outraged, betrayed, and dismayed, but all he felt was a numb acceptance. Looking at the Ilvermorny diploma proudly displayed on the mantle, he chuckled. "I guess you were right, Del. I probably should have answered some of those letters from home at some point."
Rather than rant and rage about it, Charles decided to search his tableside cabinet for a bottle of Fire Whiskey and a glass. While he did so, the fireplace flared green, again. A second later, a middle-aged female House Elf stepped out, a number of cloth grocery bags floating behind her, muttering about the state of the house. When her eyes fell upon Charles, her concentration slipped, sending the groceries spilling to the floor. "Master! You came back!" she shouted as she ran to him and hugged his legs. "The Mistress-"
He held up the letter. "I know. I was certain that you would have gone with her, Kresse."
She shook her head. "Kresse's loyalty is to Master. No one elses."
With a small smile, he took off her hand-made hat and patted her between the ears. "I don't deserve you."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But I's certainly deserves you, Master." She picked at the hem of her dress, a dress made with finer fabric than most House Elves would dare to have on their bodies, and remembered two moments in particular.
__________
1871
"The main course of your dinner, Master." It was the first that Kresse had made in her new service, and she hoped it pleased her Master.
"Thank you, Kresse." As he cut into the steak, he raised the first bite to his mouth and suddenly stopped. The House Elf panicked, certain that she had made a colossal mistake somewhere. "Kresse, where's your share?"
She sighed in relief at something so mundane. "Kresse only eats what the Master doesn't. It's the way of things."
The Master blinked a few times. "Unacceptable. I will not have a servant in my house, even a House Elf, eating fucking table scraps." He dug in his knife and fork and began slicing off a third of the steak. "Grab a plate and some silverware for yourself and take a seat at the table." When she opened her mouth to protest, he added, "That's an order."
Though she would not dare say it, that three or so ounces of meat was the best meal of her life thus far.
1872
"Kresse, what are you doing with that pillowcase?"
She wilted under his gaze. "Um, its seemed too dirtys and worn for yous to use, Master."
His glare intensified. "You're right. It is. So why are you not taking it to the garbage heap?"
"Kresse was, uh, hoping to turn it into a dress."
His glare melted into a sad, but sympathetic, smile. "If you wanted a dress, you need only have asked. Follow me."
Doing so automatically, she still began spouting protests. "B-but Master, if you gives Kresse clothes-"
"You'll leave my service. I know. But there's nothing that says I can't give you good, high quality fabrics to make your own clothes." They reached his study and he opened his desk while drawing his wand. "Lumos."
Once a light appeared on the end, he pushed it into a slot in the lid. After a few seconds, he pulled on one of the cabinet doors, and it slid out on a rail, revealing dozens upon dozens of swatches of fabric, mostly fine linens and silks. Kresse stared in a mix of awe and confusion.
"Well, take your pick. This entire collection is at your disposal."
She could see that he was trying not to laugh as she whimpered at his generosity.
November 10, 1946
Las Vegas, Nevada
Charles nodded his thanks to the driver as he stepped out of the taxi cab. He tilted his head at the name of the building in front of him. "'The Golden Nugget?' Well, it matches the note."
He pulled said note out of his pocket and read it again. "Meet me at the Golden Nugget in Las Vegas. The concierge can direct you to me. - Directorate" He had no idea who or what "Directorate" was, but the letter had been delivered to him directly by owl, and the paper it was printed on was very high quality stationary.
Sighing and hoping that he wasn't walking into some kind of trap, Charles walked in the front door. Inside, even on the closest inspection he dared to make, it was essentially just like any other No-Maj gambling hall, with a bar and people losing money hand over fist in no-doubt-rigged games.
With a shake of his head, he tuned it all out and made a beeline for the concierge desk. "Ah. Good evening, sir. What can I interest you in?"
Handing over the letter, Charles replied, "Actually, a friend said he would be meeting me here."
Recognition flitted through the concierge's eyes. "Of course. Right this way, sir." He was led to an "Employees Only" door. "Through here." After a few turns through the back hallways, the concierge stopped at a nondescript bit of wall with a mop leaning against it. A mop that, to the wizard's surprise, was enchanted to be forever immovable. "You will probably be coming back here later, so remember this."
He then tapped two bricks that led down info a horizontal figure-8 pattern on the wall, after which, it curled inward similarly to the entrance to Diagon Alley in London. Revealed was a hallway that terminated at a plain-looking wardrobe. "Um, this is a dead end."
"You have to step into the wardrobe and wait for the 'click.' Now, I was not summoned, so you will be on your own from this point."
"Thanks." Following those instructions, he gasped as a burst of cold air suddenly seeped into the cabinet after the click. Deciding that enough time had passed, he opened the door and his eyes widened. Instead of the interior of the casino, or any other building, he found himself inside a cavern, and it was a massive one. At least fifty feet high and six times that long, even many of the largest beasts could fit within it comfortably. The center of the chamber was dominated by a several-feet-thick column of stone that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.
Loud breaths and thudding footsteps drew his attention to a side tunnel, from which appeared a truly gargantuan dragon. Tipping its chin seemed to be a beard-like batch of tendrils, while the end of the long, whiplike tail had the fin of a fish. Its muzzle was short, rendering its face to an almost human scale. Speaking of scales, they were a dark green, so dark that one would think them black at first glance. Finally, its wings had red skin stretched between black bones.
Most people, in most situations when confronted with a dragon, would instantly turn tail and run for their lives. Neither "most" applied in this case. "So, you've decided to go by 'Directorate,' now?"
"Yes. I find that it suits better than my old name."
"Really? I found no problems with your name, Sm-" The dragon thrust its face into his own. "Ah. Still miffed about that book, I see."
Directorate groaned and turned away. "Whyever did I tell that Englishman my name? I knew I shouldn't have."
Charles crossed his arms and smirked. "If I remember correctly, it had something to do with him being 'a charming chap who could converse in a multitude of languages.'"
"Cau i fyny."
Chuckling at the point he had scored, the wizard changed the subject. "So, what is this contraption?" He rapped his knuckles against the cabinet's door.
"It is something that just entered production in magical England after being prototyped during the War. Its creator calls it a 'Vanishing Cabinet,' and it allows near-instantaneous teleportation between itself and its twin back at the casino."
"Hmm. That sounds like it could be very useful."
"Very useful, indeed. However, wizards being wizards, he is having trouble selling them. The English wonder why they would need them considering they already have Apparation and Floo Powder."
"Idiots." Then something else caught his attention. "Is that, is that a No-Maj television?"
"Yes. Tuned to the national news channel. Unfortunately, the business segment is not currently on."
"Why would-?" Charles' eyes widened and a manic grin split his face. "You mad lad. You're going into the stock market."
Directorate's jaw dropped slightly, revealing his teeth in the draconic version of a grin of his own. "And not just the New York one." He waved a forepaw around at the cave's bare walls. "Some day, I hope to have similar access to every stock exchange on the planet, and I will gather more wealth than has ever been conceived of."
The wizard shook his head with a smile. "Dragons."
"It's in my nature."
August 28, 1963
Washington DC
A young woman shifted from one foot to the other, the only outward sign of the excitement Delilah de Breuil felt. Something in her gut told her that this event she was about to witness would be as momentous as the Gettysburg Address almost a hundred years ago. Judging by the murmuring of the crowd in front of her, they clearly thought so, too. In front of her, Zamarad looked over her shoulder and surreptitiously gave Del's hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Might want to be careful who you do that in front of. Someone might take offense," spoke up an old man's voice from her left.
She started, though it was limited to a single twitch, at the fact she had been snuck up on. Target range 1.1 meters. Aim for side of head behind ear. One round- Then she saw that it was one of the police officers guarding the event, though he also resembled one of the many people she had worked as a partner of in her early days as an Auror. "Charles?"
"Delilah. I thought I'd find you here. You're looking well."
She ignored the compliment of her disguise, looked the man over, and was reminded of the timeless, or nearly so, nature of her existence as a tsukumogami. In the twenty years since she had last seen him, the remainder of his once rich, ruddy brown hair had gone entirely grey. His posture was slightly bowed, and there were more lines on his face. She could also see that his usual mustache was freshly shaved. "Looks like the war didn't do you any favors."
"No. It didn't."
"Why are you here?"
"As far as our bosses are concerned, I'm keeping watch for any troublemakers who might want to take a shot at Dr. King. Unofficially?" He gave a wry grin. "I'm just here to listen to a speech and catch up with old friends."
Any further discussion was silenced as the man of the hour walked up to the podium in front of the Lincoln Memorial. "I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation."
__________
"...we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, 'Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, we're free at last!'"
As the crowd broke into cheers, Charles gave a rueful smile. "If only we could bottle his enthusiasm and brew it into potions to pass out to the world."
Delilah smirked. "Well, someone's being cynical."
"Maybe. Maybe life's kicked me in the balls too many times for me to be optimistic, anymore."
"Walk, talk, and compare notes? We have a few hours since Dr. King is meeting with the President."
"Nah. I know a nice little ice cream parlor nearby. We can talk there."
"Okay." She motioned for Zamarad to follow her, and the trio set out for a place to sit and have a conversation.
__________
As he sipped at his Coke enriched with vanilla flavoring, Charles gestured towards Del and the vaguely Middle Eastern woman with the reddish-brown hair and striking green eyes next to her. "Let's start with you. Who's your friend? Never seen her before."
"This is Emma Cohen. She's a pied-noir from French North Africa, and her family was killed in the War during '42 as part of the Resistance after the Vichy abolished French citizenship for the Jews born there. I rescued her during… my classified mission."
"Ah. The one where you had to fight your way out of a burning building?" Left unsaid was how he was certain that her explanation for the faint burn scars on her legs was bullshit. Scars that he noted had now faded away completely.
"That one. She was in England getting her Resident Alien Witch status worked out when we last spoke, which is why you didn't meet her. The records she needed for her family background were in Oran. You know how it got hit in the War when we stormed ashore in TORCH and had to call the Brit battleships to bombard there."
He nodded. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for your loss, Emma." Another gesture. "Del's a good woman. She'll probably be an annoying pain in the ass, sometimes, but a more loyal person to her friends you'll be hard-pressed to find."
Leaning forward, Delilah narrowed her eyes. "What was that about 'annoying pain in the ass?'"
He jabbed a finger towards her. "Don't think I've forgotten about your antics at Ilvermorny." He glanced at Emma, who was trying to hide a grin behind her hand. "You ever want to know about 'em, just ask."
Slumping in her seat, the American woman grumbled. "Point. But I've been bettering myself since then."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Charles muttered as he took another sip.
"Alright. Your turn. How's your family doing?"
He froze for a second, put the bottle down, and sighed. "I didn't tell you, did I?" Another sigh. "You gave me some good advice back before we parted ways, but I was a fool who didn't take it."
Both of them knew exactly what advice he was referring to, that family was the most important thing in life and to keep connected. "Damn. What happened?"
"Susan left. Took little Perseus with her." Upon seeing her expression, he added, "Gets worse. I'm sure you've heard about that mess that's brewing in Vietnam?" Delilah scoffed and nodded. "Well, Perseus volunteered to go over there as a 'military advisor,' and he's already come home. In a box."
"Shit. I wish I could say that I know what you're going through, but…"
"Yeah. You've been pretty lucky in life. Still got all your family and some of your friends like the Marsh twins from Kingsport and that damn Chinese Canuck. Cushy assignments-"
"Louise was family."
"...Fuck, I-"
Delilah barked out a laugh. "If only you knew what I've had to deal with. When you were in Europe in 1917 and '18, I had to do your job on top of mine down at the border. That Barmejo bitch nearly punched my ticket in an ambush out near Hildalgo del Parral in 1917. Broke my leg when she shot my horse under me then broke my shoulder with her second shot." Delilah sighed, rubbing her right shoulder absently. "At least I drove her off firing left-handed. Fucking Mexican anarchist! Even if she helped out down there in '26 for a change."
"Oh. Well thanks for keeping that fire suppressed. Lost a lot of guys I'd gotten to know while I was with the 77th. Was glad to come home to some sort of order."
"Half my team died in Overlord. I lost Bearclaw at Mortain. He died screaming in my arms the second day. Goddamn the costs of war."
"Bad intel cost my squad at Anzio, and the few survivors didn't last until Nuremberg."
"Is this that 'misery poker' thing I've heard about?"
Both old Aurors looked at Emma, and then each other before breaking out in laughter. "My God, we are!"
"Yeah. Focusing on our misery like that." Charles held out his hand. "Agree that we've both had bad shit happen to us and move on?"
Del shook it. "Agreed." With that, the conversation shifted over to happier topics.
December 7, 2017
Tucson, Arizona
Former Auror Lieutenant Charles Deckard lay in his bed, back propped up on a stack of pillows against the headboard. In front of him lay two wizarding newspapers; one was around a year old, while the other was closer to fifty. Both announced similar things: the falls of Rappaport's Law and the Statute of Secrecy.
"To have been able to witness such… historic changes to society." He gently wheezed. "I feel blessed to have made it this long." A series of wet coughs wracked his frame, prompting the House Elf standing next to the bed to reach toward him, only to be waved off. "It's alright, Kresse. Everyone has their own time, and I can feel that this is mine."
"What… what do you wants me t'do, Master?" Her voice was extremely timid, and he could tell she was holding back tears.
A weak chuckle. "I plan for my nephew to employ you after I die." Before she could interject, he held up a hand. "And it will be employment, either guaranteed with him, or I give you some clothes and you take your chances in the wider world. Your choice." Another, louder wheeze.
Kresse hung her head. "How many monies?"
Charles smiled, knowing that her House Elf pride would mean that she wouldn't like what he was about to say. "The equivalent of 2 Dragots. Every day."
She sputtered. "B-but Master! I's have no need for much. I makes my own clothes, you buy me food."
He reached out and patted her head. "I know. But we're under No-Maj jurisdiction, now, and they have what is called the 'minimum wage' for those who work. Technically, you should be getting half a Dragot for every hour you work." He was glad for the coughing fit that prevented him from laughing at the whimper that came from the diminutive being.
A decision to change the subject written all over her face, Kresse asked, "What ifs he hates me?"
"He won't hate you. Not know how to act or feel sometimes, but not hate. Heh. I don't think he has the capacity to hate. And even in the times where he seems most indifferent, his wives will certainly dote on you enough to more than make up for it."
"His… wives? I don't think you's told me about them."
Charles looked to the side and searched his memories. "Huh. So I didn't. Well-" Then a cascade of things happened, none of them good. His body shuddered, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped against the headboard.
"Master?" Kresse practically begged as she stood on her tiptoes and gently nudged the old wizard. "M-master?" When she got no response, she bowed her head and wept. While she did, she remembered when she first entered his service.
__________
1871
Denver, Colorado
"Stupid thing!" The raised fist came crashing down on her face, and a garbled shriek escaped her lips as her jaw broke. "Can't do one little thing proper." Her master drew back his fist, again, and she winced and braced for the impact.
But it never came.
Another man caught her master's arm. "What are you doing to that House Elf?"
"What does it look like?" He gestured towards the spilled boxes that got her into her current predicament. "Damn thing dropped my groceries that it was supposed to carry, so I'm punishing it."
The stranger narrowed his eyes. "I'll be taking her off your hands." He pulled a handful of coins out of one of his pockets. Kresse's eyes widened, as, unless she were mistaken, it was the same amount of money as her master had used to buy the groceries.
"Hah! What do you take me for? A cheapskate? A hundred Dragots or nothing."
Mere seconds later, a clinking pouch was pressed into her master's hand. "Hundred fifty. Now get the hell out of here before I decide to report you for abusing a being."
"Tch. Whatever. Take the useless thing. I'll just buy a new one." Her now-former master shoved her toward the stranger who had just bought her.
The man glowered after the departing one before turning to her and kneeling down. "Right. Let's see what he did to you," he muttered as he traced his fingers along her skin and rags.
She flinched at the touch until she realized that it wasn't a harsh grasp but a gentle caress. A sharp gasp and whimper arose unbidden when he touched her shattered jaw. She raised her hands to shield her head and waited for her punishment.
"Right. Let's get that jaw fixed up."
She couldn't believe her ears, but the sincerety of those words was proven when he held his wand up to the injury, and the bone slowly shifted back to the way it was supposed to be. He put the wand away and beckoned for her to follow. Hesitantly, but with a slight hopeful spring in her step, she walked after her Master and into her new life.
__________
October 13, 1945
Tucson, Arizona
Flooing in from the Denver office where he'd reported back, Captain Charles Deckard sighed as he leaned against the side of the fireplace and took in the sight of his home. It was just as he left it: books, wood paneling on the walls, the phonograph and radio next to his favorite chair, everything. Idly, he used his wand to flick on the radio, and the smooth tones of a jazz band began to waft through the room.
"My momma done tol' me, when I was in knee-pants…"
It was as he was walking towards said chair that something amiss clicked for him: No one came to greet him. Drawing his wand and his newest gun, a cut-down M1 Garand, and began a search of the house.
It didn't take long for him to find out the reason why his family hadn't formed a welcoming committee. There was a letter on the dining room table dated to February of the previous year. In it, his wife explained how she could not handle the stress of waiting for news of if he was alright any longer, so she had packed up her things and taken their son back to her family out East.
As he read, he logically knew that he should be feeling outraged, betrayed, and dismayed, but all he felt was a numb acceptance. Looking at the Ilvermorny diploma proudly displayed on the mantle, he chuckled. "I guess you were right, Del. I probably should have answered some of those letters from home at some point."
Rather than rant and rage about it, Charles decided to search his tableside cabinet for a bottle of Fire Whiskey and a glass. While he did so, the fireplace flared green, again. A second later, a middle-aged female House Elf stepped out, a number of cloth grocery bags floating behind her, muttering about the state of the house. When her eyes fell upon Charles, her concentration slipped, sending the groceries spilling to the floor. "Master! You came back!" she shouted as she ran to him and hugged his legs. "The Mistress-"
He held up the letter. "I know. I was certain that you would have gone with her, Kresse."
She shook her head. "Kresse's loyalty is to Master. No one elses."
With a small smile, he took off her hand-made hat and patted her between the ears. "I don't deserve you."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But I's certainly deserves you, Master." She picked at the hem of her dress, a dress made with finer fabric than most House Elves would dare to have on their bodies, and remembered two moments in particular.
__________
1871
"The main course of your dinner, Master." It was the first that Kresse had made in her new service, and she hoped it pleased her Master.
"Thank you, Kresse." As he cut into the steak, he raised the first bite to his mouth and suddenly stopped. The House Elf panicked, certain that she had made a colossal mistake somewhere. "Kresse, where's your share?"
She sighed in relief at something so mundane. "Kresse only eats what the Master doesn't. It's the way of things."
The Master blinked a few times. "Unacceptable. I will not have a servant in my house, even a House Elf, eating fucking table scraps." He dug in his knife and fork and began slicing off a third of the steak. "Grab a plate and some silverware for yourself and take a seat at the table." When she opened her mouth to protest, he added, "That's an order."
Though she would not dare say it, that three or so ounces of meat was the best meal of her life thus far.
1872
"Kresse, what are you doing with that pillowcase?"
She wilted under his gaze. "Um, its seemed too dirtys and worn for yous to use, Master."
His glare intensified. "You're right. It is. So why are you not taking it to the garbage heap?"
"Kresse was, uh, hoping to turn it into a dress."
His glare melted into a sad, but sympathetic, smile. "If you wanted a dress, you need only have asked. Follow me."
Doing so automatically, she still began spouting protests. "B-but Master, if you gives Kresse clothes-"
"You'll leave my service. I know. But there's nothing that says I can't give you good, high quality fabrics to make your own clothes." They reached his study and he opened his desk while drawing his wand. "Lumos."
Once a light appeared on the end, he pushed it into a slot in the lid. After a few seconds, he pulled on one of the cabinet doors, and it slid out on a rail, revealing dozens upon dozens of swatches of fabric, mostly fine linens and silks. Kresse stared in a mix of awe and confusion.
"Well, take your pick. This entire collection is at your disposal."
She could see that he was trying not to laugh as she whimpered at his generosity.
November 10, 1946
Las Vegas, Nevada
Charles nodded his thanks to the driver as he stepped out of the taxi cab. He tilted his head at the name of the building in front of him. "'The Golden Nugget?' Well, it matches the note."
He pulled said note out of his pocket and read it again. "Meet me at the Golden Nugget in Las Vegas. The concierge can direct you to me. - Directorate" He had no idea who or what "Directorate" was, but the letter had been delivered to him directly by owl, and the paper it was printed on was very high quality stationary.
Sighing and hoping that he wasn't walking into some kind of trap, Charles walked in the front door. Inside, even on the closest inspection he dared to make, it was essentially just like any other No-Maj gambling hall, with a bar and people losing money hand over fist in no-doubt-rigged games.
With a shake of his head, he tuned it all out and made a beeline for the concierge desk. "Ah. Good evening, sir. What can I interest you in?"
Handing over the letter, Charles replied, "Actually, a friend said he would be meeting me here."
Recognition flitted through the concierge's eyes. "Of course. Right this way, sir." He was led to an "Employees Only" door. "Through here." After a few turns through the back hallways, the concierge stopped at a nondescript bit of wall with a mop leaning against it. A mop that, to the wizard's surprise, was enchanted to be forever immovable. "You will probably be coming back here later, so remember this."
He then tapped two bricks that led down info a horizontal figure-8 pattern on the wall, after which, it curled inward similarly to the entrance to Diagon Alley in London. Revealed was a hallway that terminated at a plain-looking wardrobe. "Um, this is a dead end."
"You have to step into the wardrobe and wait for the 'click.' Now, I was not summoned, so you will be on your own from this point."
"Thanks." Following those instructions, he gasped as a burst of cold air suddenly seeped into the cabinet after the click. Deciding that enough time had passed, he opened the door and his eyes widened. Instead of the interior of the casino, or any other building, he found himself inside a cavern, and it was a massive one. At least fifty feet high and six times that long, even many of the largest beasts could fit within it comfortably. The center of the chamber was dominated by a several-feet-thick column of stone that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.
Loud breaths and thudding footsteps drew his attention to a side tunnel, from which appeared a truly gargantuan dragon. Tipping its chin seemed to be a beard-like batch of tendrils, while the end of the long, whiplike tail had the fin of a fish. Its muzzle was short, rendering its face to an almost human scale. Speaking of scales, they were a dark green, so dark that one would think them black at first glance. Finally, its wings had red skin stretched between black bones.
Most people, in most situations when confronted with a dragon, would instantly turn tail and run for their lives. Neither "most" applied in this case. "So, you've decided to go by 'Directorate,' now?"
"Yes. I find that it suits better than my old name."
"Really? I found no problems with your name, Sm-" The dragon thrust its face into his own. "Ah. Still miffed about that book, I see."
Directorate groaned and turned away. "Whyever did I tell that Englishman my name? I knew I shouldn't have."
Charles crossed his arms and smirked. "If I remember correctly, it had something to do with him being 'a charming chap who could converse in a multitude of languages.'"
"Cau i fyny."
Chuckling at the point he had scored, the wizard changed the subject. "So, what is this contraption?" He rapped his knuckles against the cabinet's door.
"It is something that just entered production in magical England after being prototyped during the War. Its creator calls it a 'Vanishing Cabinet,' and it allows near-instantaneous teleportation between itself and its twin back at the casino."
"Hmm. That sounds like it could be very useful."
"Very useful, indeed. However, wizards being wizards, he is having trouble selling them. The English wonder why they would need them considering they already have Apparation and Floo Powder."
"Idiots." Then something else caught his attention. "Is that, is that a No-Maj television?"
"Yes. Tuned to the national news channel. Unfortunately, the business segment is not currently on."
"Why would-?" Charles' eyes widened and a manic grin split his face. "You mad lad. You're going into the stock market."
Directorate's jaw dropped slightly, revealing his teeth in the draconic version of a grin of his own. "And not just the New York one." He waved a forepaw around at the cave's bare walls. "Some day, I hope to have similar access to every stock exchange on the planet, and I will gather more wealth than has ever been conceived of."
The wizard shook his head with a smile. "Dragons."
"It's in my nature."
August 28, 1963
Washington DC
A young woman shifted from one foot to the other, the only outward sign of the excitement Delilah de Breuil felt. Something in her gut told her that this event she was about to witness would be as momentous as the Gettysburg Address almost a hundred years ago. Judging by the murmuring of the crowd in front of her, they clearly thought so, too. In front of her, Zamarad looked over her shoulder and surreptitiously gave Del's hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Might want to be careful who you do that in front of. Someone might take offense," spoke up an old man's voice from her left.
She started, though it was limited to a single twitch, at the fact she had been snuck up on. Target range 1.1 meters. Aim for side of head behind ear. One round- Then she saw that it was one of the police officers guarding the event, though he also resembled one of the many people she had worked as a partner of in her early days as an Auror. "Charles?"
"Delilah. I thought I'd find you here. You're looking well."
She ignored the compliment of her disguise, looked the man over, and was reminded of the timeless, or nearly so, nature of her existence as a tsukumogami. In the twenty years since she had last seen him, the remainder of his once rich, ruddy brown hair had gone entirely grey. His posture was slightly bowed, and there were more lines on his face. She could also see that his usual mustache was freshly shaved. "Looks like the war didn't do you any favors."
"No. It didn't."
"Why are you here?"
"As far as our bosses are concerned, I'm keeping watch for any troublemakers who might want to take a shot at Dr. King. Unofficially?" He gave a wry grin. "I'm just here to listen to a speech and catch up with old friends."
Any further discussion was silenced as the man of the hour walked up to the podium in front of the Lincoln Memorial. "I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation."
__________
"...we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, 'Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, we're free at last!'"
As the crowd broke into cheers, Charles gave a rueful smile. "If only we could bottle his enthusiasm and brew it into potions to pass out to the world."
Delilah smirked. "Well, someone's being cynical."
"Maybe. Maybe life's kicked me in the balls too many times for me to be optimistic, anymore."
"Walk, talk, and compare notes? We have a few hours since Dr. King is meeting with the President."
"Nah. I know a nice little ice cream parlor nearby. We can talk there."
"Okay." She motioned for Zamarad to follow her, and the trio set out for a place to sit and have a conversation.
__________
As he sipped at his Coke enriched with vanilla flavoring, Charles gestured towards Del and the vaguely Middle Eastern woman with the reddish-brown hair and striking green eyes next to her. "Let's start with you. Who's your friend? Never seen her before."
"This is Emma Cohen. She's a pied-noir from French North Africa, and her family was killed in the War during '42 as part of the Resistance after the Vichy abolished French citizenship for the Jews born there. I rescued her during… my classified mission."
"Ah. The one where you had to fight your way out of a burning building?" Left unsaid was how he was certain that her explanation for the faint burn scars on her legs was bullshit. Scars that he noted had now faded away completely.
"That one. She was in England getting her Resident Alien Witch status worked out when we last spoke, which is why you didn't meet her. The records she needed for her family background were in Oran. You know how it got hit in the War when we stormed ashore in TORCH and had to call the Brit battleships to bombard there."
He nodded. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for your loss, Emma." Another gesture. "Del's a good woman. She'll probably be an annoying pain in the ass, sometimes, but a more loyal person to her friends you'll be hard-pressed to find."
Leaning forward, Delilah narrowed her eyes. "What was that about 'annoying pain in the ass?'"
He jabbed a finger towards her. "Don't think I've forgotten about your antics at Ilvermorny." He glanced at Emma, who was trying to hide a grin behind her hand. "You ever want to know about 'em, just ask."
Slumping in her seat, the American woman grumbled. "Point. But I've been bettering myself since then."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Charles muttered as he took another sip.
"Alright. Your turn. How's your family doing?"
He froze for a second, put the bottle down, and sighed. "I didn't tell you, did I?" Another sigh. "You gave me some good advice back before we parted ways, but I was a fool who didn't take it."
Both of them knew exactly what advice he was referring to, that family was the most important thing in life and to keep connected. "Damn. What happened?"
"Susan left. Took little Perseus with her." Upon seeing her expression, he added, "Gets worse. I'm sure you've heard about that mess that's brewing in Vietnam?" Delilah scoffed and nodded. "Well, Perseus volunteered to go over there as a 'military advisor,' and he's already come home. In a box."
"Shit. I wish I could say that I know what you're going through, but…"
"Yeah. You've been pretty lucky in life. Still got all your family and some of your friends like the Marsh twins from Kingsport and that damn Chinese Canuck. Cushy assignments-"
"Louise was family."
"...Fuck, I-"
Delilah barked out a laugh. "If only you knew what I've had to deal with. When you were in Europe in 1917 and '18, I had to do your job on top of mine down at the border. That Barmejo bitch nearly punched my ticket in an ambush out near Hildalgo del Parral in 1917. Broke my leg when she shot my horse under me then broke my shoulder with her second shot." Delilah sighed, rubbing her right shoulder absently. "At least I drove her off firing left-handed. Fucking Mexican anarchist! Even if she helped out down there in '26 for a change."
"Oh. Well thanks for keeping that fire suppressed. Lost a lot of guys I'd gotten to know while I was with the 77th. Was glad to come home to some sort of order."
"Half my team died in Overlord. I lost Bearclaw at Mortain. He died screaming in my arms the second day. Goddamn the costs of war."
"Bad intel cost my squad at Anzio, and the few survivors didn't last until Nuremberg."
"Is this that 'misery poker' thing I've heard about?"
Both old Aurors looked at Emma, and then each other before breaking out in laughter. "My God, we are!"
"Yeah. Focusing on our misery like that." Charles held out his hand. "Agree that we've both had bad shit happen to us and move on?"
Del shook it. "Agreed." With that, the conversation shifted over to happier topics.
December 7, 2017
Tucson, Arizona
Former Auror Lieutenant Charles Deckard lay in his bed, back propped up on a stack of pillows against the headboard. In front of him lay two wizarding newspapers; one was around a year old, while the other was closer to fifty. Both announced similar things: the falls of Rappaport's Law and the Statute of Secrecy.
"To have been able to witness such… historic changes to society." He gently wheezed. "I feel blessed to have made it this long." A series of wet coughs wracked his frame, prompting the House Elf standing next to the bed to reach toward him, only to be waved off. "It's alright, Kresse. Everyone has their own time, and I can feel that this is mine."
"What… what do you wants me t'do, Master?" Her voice was extremely timid, and he could tell she was holding back tears.
A weak chuckle. "I plan for my nephew to employ you after I die." Before she could interject, he held up a hand. "And it will be employment, either guaranteed with him, or I give you some clothes and you take your chances in the wider world. Your choice." Another, louder wheeze.
Kresse hung her head. "How many monies?"
Charles smiled, knowing that her House Elf pride would mean that she wouldn't like what he was about to say. "The equivalent of 2 Dragots. Every day."
She sputtered. "B-but Master! I's have no need for much. I makes my own clothes, you buy me food."
He reached out and patted her head. "I know. But we're under No-Maj jurisdiction, now, and they have what is called the 'minimum wage' for those who work. Technically, you should be getting half a Dragot for every hour you work." He was glad for the coughing fit that prevented him from laughing at the whimper that came from the diminutive being.
A decision to change the subject written all over her face, Kresse asked, "What ifs he hates me?"
"He won't hate you. Not know how to act or feel sometimes, but not hate. Heh. I don't think he has the capacity to hate. And even in the times where he seems most indifferent, his wives will certainly dote on you enough to more than make up for it."
"His… wives? I don't think you's told me about them."
Charles looked to the side and searched his memories. "Huh. So I didn't. Well-" Then a cascade of things happened, none of them good. His body shuddered, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped against the headboard.
"Master?" Kresse practically begged as she stood on her tiptoes and gently nudged the old wizard. "M-master?" When she got no response, she bowed her head and wept. While she did, she remembered when she first entered his service.
__________
1871
Denver, Colorado
"Stupid thing!" The raised fist came crashing down on her face, and a garbled shriek escaped her lips as her jaw broke. "Can't do one little thing proper." Her master drew back his fist, again, and she winced and braced for the impact.
But it never came.
Another man caught her master's arm. "What are you doing to that House Elf?"
"What does it look like?" He gestured towards the spilled boxes that got her into her current predicament. "Damn thing dropped my groceries that it was supposed to carry, so I'm punishing it."
The stranger narrowed his eyes. "I'll be taking her off your hands." He pulled a handful of coins out of one of his pockets. Kresse's eyes widened, as, unless she were mistaken, it was the same amount of money as her master had used to buy the groceries.
"Hah! What do you take me for? A cheapskate? A hundred Dragots or nothing."
Mere seconds later, a clinking pouch was pressed into her master's hand. "Hundred fifty. Now get the hell out of here before I decide to report you for abusing a being."
"Tch. Whatever. Take the useless thing. I'll just buy a new one." Her now-former master shoved her toward the stranger who had just bought her.
The man glowered after the departing one before turning to her and kneeling down. "Right. Let's see what he did to you," he muttered as he traced his fingers along her skin and rags.
She flinched at the touch until she realized that it wasn't a harsh grasp but a gentle caress. A sharp gasp and whimper arose unbidden when he touched her shattered jaw. She raised her hands to shield her head and waited for her punishment.
"Right. Let's get that jaw fixed up."
She couldn't believe her ears, but the sincerety of those words was proven when he held his wand up to the injury, and the bone slowly shifted back to the way it was supposed to be. He put the wand away and beckoned for her to follow. Hesitantly, but with a slight hopeful spring in her step, she walked after her Master and into her new life.
Last edited:
- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
A. N. -- Last crosspost of the day. End of the Ehren and Draco date and some fallout. The way to a Prussian's heart is through her sweet tooth.... Prior chapter here.
A Gambit of Daggers and Serpents (V)
Hogsmeade
2nd November 2014
Draco left Honeydukes alongside the disguised Ehren. She was whistling an upbeat military march unconsciously, which warmed his heart as he observed the subtle signs of joy in her face and figure. Even if this visit had cost him nearly fifty Galleons in her purchases for herself and her friends, that was money well spent in his opinion.
Ehren deserved happiness and joy in her life. The agonies that she stoically endured were -- contrary to her belief in her unworthiness and inner darkness -- truly not her fault. He would do what he could to make her truly happy and mend her shattered and wounded heart.
The shyly happy gentle smile that she now had on her face was worth all the candy in Honeydukes twice over to him, after all.
She glanced sidelong at him as they walked through the snow-covered picturesque village with their purchases floating behind them. Her pale cheeks were rosy from the cold when she reached out and took his hand in hers, interlacing his fingers with hers and squeezing it gently. "{Draco, thank you very much. This was wonderful.}" She spoke in German, "{I greatly enjoyed our time together, but it must come to an end now. Our duties call us to resume them. Dienst ist Dienst...}"
He finished the German proverb about separating professional life and leisure for her, "...und Schnaps ist Schnaps!" He then squeezed her hand before they started to head for a location out of sight so she could unsummon her avatar.
Hogwarts
Draco exited the magical carriage and then waved his wand to float his purchases behind him.
While he could have stayed later, he wanted to be in the early carriage to make it clear that he was 'alone' at Hogsmeade.
Hence, after Ehren unsummoned herself, he had headed to the Three Broomsticks to have a drink of Butterbeer with Blaise Zabini, Mei Cao, and several other acquaintances from Slytherin. A few nasty comments about Harry Potter helped establish his pureblood bona fides when Harry and the girls with him had been seen walking past through the windows.
Besides, Harry was easy to gripe about as a playboy alongside those envious souls like Blaise who were watching him regularly show up with attractive shipgirl after attractive shipgirl on his elbow. While Harry was certainly beating Draco, and everyone else Draco knew, on quantity of females interested in him, Draco wished Harry the best of luck, since he had an idea from his own life that Harry wouldn't get an instant to himself once the sharks that had gathered around him finally made their move on him.
Anyway, Draco smirked to himself as he started to walk toward the main entrance, Harry can have the numbers since this isn't a competition. With Johnston, Cleo, Niobe and now Ehren, I have him and everyone else beat on quality, which is what matters. Four's enough for me.
The unwanted and uninvited face of the 'potential fifth contender' for his heart -- As if! In her dreams!! -- made an appearance as he walked inside.
"Draco!" Pansy exclaimed with a pout as she glared at him. "I wondered where you ran off to? I've been looking all over Hogwarts for you!"
He schooled his expression into a sympathetic look while ignoring the vibrations from the dagger hidden in his (now space-expanded) trouser pocket.
"I went to Hogsmeade today, Pansy." He then smiled disarmingly. "I thought you might want a surprise so, here you go." With that he floated over a large box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans to her along with a container of Mr. Spindle's Lick "O" Rish Spiders. And if Parkinson ate a spinach-flavored Bean or hated spiders, all the better in his opinion, since that was why he had picked them out for her as a decoy while Ehren had giggled evilly.
"Thank you, Draco!" Pansy said. "You shouldn't have!" She hugged him, pressing her curves against him while she delivered a kiss square on the lips to him.
For a second, the movement from the hidden Ehren stopped dead.
Then it was like he had a pocket full of angry hornets as she vibrated violently.
"You don't need to do that Pansy!" He exclaimed as he gently but firmly pushed her away. "I made purchases for all my friends, after all."
Pansy gave a disappointed harrumph and a look as she stopped invading his personal space.
He suddenly grinned at the sight of a familiar group of First Years descending the stairs. "Ehren, Eleanor, Laura, Emma, there you all are! Come here, I have your candies!" He called out, waving at them.
Squeals of joy answered him as the quartet of girls stampeded downstairs toward the bounty awaiting them.
"Thank you Cousin Draco!" Ehren's avatar exclaimed with a happy smile when they arrived at a flat sprint.
Pansy, watching the byplay, scowled while giving Ehren a murderous jealous glare.
Ehren hugged him around the waist after her friends thanked him for their candies. "You're the best, Cousin Draco! Thank you for taking care of me and my friends!" She gushed out happily.
He felt her hand slip into the pocket with her dagger body (which was no longer vibrating) as their hug tightened and she looked up at him with an expression (that he suspected was only partly faked) of feminine delight. A momentary expression of pain appeared on her face as she touched her true body hidden in his pocket, causing him to feel sudden concern for her. "Are you all right, Ehren?" He asked as he hugged her back.
She nodded reassuringly while her hand left his pocket. "Just a headache. I get them sometimes, and we have been studying hard today. Herbology and Potions are not my best subjects and those were the bulk of the class review that we did today. Still hard work is its own reward and no mastery without effort!"
He grinned triumphantly as she then opened the bag containing the chocolates that her other avatar had prompted him to purchase from Honeydukes two hours ago. "Fünfundachtzig Prozent Kakao dunkle Schokoriegel! So köstlich!! " She squealed in clearly unfeigned delight at his selection of gifts. "{Thank you so very much! This will clear my headache right up!}"
He grinned and ruffled her hair, eliciting another glare from Pansy. "Just don't eat them all at once, because I hope to see you for dinner."
"Jawohl, Cousin Draco!"
Ehren walked into the Hufflepuff First Year dorms with her friends in tow. She glanced at Laura, who was enjoying her Liquorice Wand, and Eleanor, whose teeth were chattering thanks to her 'sampling' one of her Ice Mice.
Well, she shouldn't be left out.
With that in mind and a smugly happy grin, she unlocked her school trunk to stash the bulk of the candies securely inside.
After she selected something 'for quality analysis via taste-testing'. One should ensure that life's little pleasures are in Ordnung, after all.
She picked out a chocolate bar, locked her trunk back up, and then plopped down to lie on her bed.
She chewed her first bite of pure chocolate bliss with a thoughtful expression on her face while she sorted through the memories that she had just had data dumped into this avatar from her dagger. Fortunately, it was only a day's worth of information to integrate, although....
She stopped chewing and her face froze when she got to the meat of Draco's report about Death Eaters in Hogwarts.
Then her face split in a wolf-like smug grin and she resumed savoring the rich chocolate, stoically ignoring the normal migrane headache that was caused by her processing and integrating this Ehren's memories with her main body's memories of the trip to Hogsmeade.
Responsibilities allocated.
Targets identified.
Allies warned.
Operational plan objectives set for this avatar's Auftragstaktik.
She knew what she needed to do... and now just needed an idea as to how to do it.
With that her eyes lighted on her chest containing the chocolates and her smugly savage smirk grew before she took another bite of her candy.
A Gambit of Daggers and Serpents (V)
Hogsmeade
2nd November 2014
Draco left Honeydukes alongside the disguised Ehren. She was whistling an upbeat military march unconsciously, which warmed his heart as he observed the subtle signs of joy in her face and figure. Even if this visit had cost him nearly fifty Galleons in her purchases for herself and her friends, that was money well spent in his opinion.
Ehren deserved happiness and joy in her life. The agonies that she stoically endured were -- contrary to her belief in her unworthiness and inner darkness -- truly not her fault. He would do what he could to make her truly happy and mend her shattered and wounded heart.
The shyly happy gentle smile that she now had on her face was worth all the candy in Honeydukes twice over to him, after all.
She glanced sidelong at him as they walked through the snow-covered picturesque village with their purchases floating behind them. Her pale cheeks were rosy from the cold when she reached out and took his hand in hers, interlacing his fingers with hers and squeezing it gently. "{Draco, thank you very much. This was wonderful.}" She spoke in German, "{I greatly enjoyed our time together, but it must come to an end now. Our duties call us to resume them. Dienst ist Dienst...}"
He finished the German proverb about separating professional life and leisure for her, "...und Schnaps ist Schnaps!" He then squeezed her hand before they started to head for a location out of sight so she could unsummon her avatar.
Hogwarts
Draco exited the magical carriage and then waved his wand to float his purchases behind him.
While he could have stayed later, he wanted to be in the early carriage to make it clear that he was 'alone' at Hogsmeade.
Hence, after Ehren unsummoned herself, he had headed to the Three Broomsticks to have a drink of Butterbeer with Blaise Zabini, Mei Cao, and several other acquaintances from Slytherin. A few nasty comments about Harry Potter helped establish his pureblood bona fides when Harry and the girls with him had been seen walking past through the windows.
Besides, Harry was easy to gripe about as a playboy alongside those envious souls like Blaise who were watching him regularly show up with attractive shipgirl after attractive shipgirl on his elbow. While Harry was certainly beating Draco, and everyone else Draco knew, on quantity of females interested in him, Draco wished Harry the best of luck, since he had an idea from his own life that Harry wouldn't get an instant to himself once the sharks that had gathered around him finally made their move on him.
Anyway, Draco smirked to himself as he started to walk toward the main entrance, Harry can have the numbers since this isn't a competition. With Johnston, Cleo, Niobe and now Ehren, I have him and everyone else beat on quality, which is what matters. Four's enough for me.
The unwanted and uninvited face of the 'potential fifth contender' for his heart -- As if! In her dreams!! -- made an appearance as he walked inside.
"Draco!" Pansy exclaimed with a pout as she glared at him. "I wondered where you ran off to? I've been looking all over Hogwarts for you!"
He schooled his expression into a sympathetic look while ignoring the vibrations from the dagger hidden in his (now space-expanded) trouser pocket.
"I went to Hogsmeade today, Pansy." He then smiled disarmingly. "I thought you might want a surprise so, here you go." With that he floated over a large box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans to her along with a container of Mr. Spindle's Lick "O" Rish Spiders. And if Parkinson ate a spinach-flavored Bean or hated spiders, all the better in his opinion, since that was why he had picked them out for her as a decoy while Ehren had giggled evilly.
"Thank you, Draco!" Pansy said. "You shouldn't have!" She hugged him, pressing her curves against him while she delivered a kiss square on the lips to him.
For a second, the movement from the hidden Ehren stopped dead.
Then it was like he had a pocket full of angry hornets as she vibrated violently.
"You don't need to do that Pansy!" He exclaimed as he gently but firmly pushed her away. "I made purchases for all my friends, after all."
Pansy gave a disappointed harrumph and a look as she stopped invading his personal space.
He suddenly grinned at the sight of a familiar group of First Years descending the stairs. "Ehren, Eleanor, Laura, Emma, there you all are! Come here, I have your candies!" He called out, waving at them.
Squeals of joy answered him as the quartet of girls stampeded downstairs toward the bounty awaiting them.
"Thank you Cousin Draco!" Ehren's avatar exclaimed with a happy smile when they arrived at a flat sprint.
Pansy, watching the byplay, scowled while giving Ehren a murderous jealous glare.
Ehren hugged him around the waist after her friends thanked him for their candies. "You're the best, Cousin Draco! Thank you for taking care of me and my friends!" She gushed out happily.
He felt her hand slip into the pocket with her dagger body (which was no longer vibrating) as their hug tightened and she looked up at him with an expression (that he suspected was only partly faked) of feminine delight. A momentary expression of pain appeared on her face as she touched her true body hidden in his pocket, causing him to feel sudden concern for her. "Are you all right, Ehren?" He asked as he hugged her back.
She nodded reassuringly while her hand left his pocket. "Just a headache. I get them sometimes, and we have been studying hard today. Herbology and Potions are not my best subjects and those were the bulk of the class review that we did today. Still hard work is its own reward and no mastery without effort!"
He grinned triumphantly as she then opened the bag containing the chocolates that her other avatar had prompted him to purchase from Honeydukes two hours ago. "Fünfundachtzig Prozent Kakao dunkle Schokoriegel! So köstlich!! " She squealed in clearly unfeigned delight at his selection of gifts. "{Thank you so very much! This will clear my headache right up!}"
He grinned and ruffled her hair, eliciting another glare from Pansy. "Just don't eat them all at once, because I hope to see you for dinner."
"Jawohl, Cousin Draco!"
-----------------------------------------
Ehren walked into the Hufflepuff First Year dorms with her friends in tow. She glanced at Laura, who was enjoying her Liquorice Wand, and Eleanor, whose teeth were chattering thanks to her 'sampling' one of her Ice Mice.
Well, she shouldn't be left out.
With that in mind and a smugly happy grin, she unlocked her school trunk to stash the bulk of the candies securely inside.
After she selected something 'for quality analysis via taste-testing'. One should ensure that life's little pleasures are in Ordnung, after all.
She picked out a chocolate bar, locked her trunk back up, and then plopped down to lie on her bed.
She chewed her first bite of pure chocolate bliss with a thoughtful expression on her face while she sorted through the memories that she had just had data dumped into this avatar from her dagger. Fortunately, it was only a day's worth of information to integrate, although....
She stopped chewing and her face froze when she got to the meat of Draco's report about Death Eaters in Hogwarts.
Then her face split in a wolf-like smug grin and she resumed savoring the rich chocolate, stoically ignoring the normal migrane headache that was caused by her processing and integrating this Ehren's memories with her main body's memories of the trip to Hogsmeade.
Responsibilities allocated.
Targets identified.
Allies warned.
Operational plan objectives set for this avatar's Auftragstaktik.
She knew what she needed to do... and now just needed an idea as to how to do it.
With that her eyes lighted on her chest containing the chocolates and her smugly savage smirk grew before she took another bite of her candy.
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- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
Because people are idiots and kids are bad at realizing that some people shouldn't be fucked with. And Del was an easy target having some questions about her parentage and a 'dead' father (just like Colombe, I realized, although at least Jez was alive).
That';s OK, I have hit the edge of burnout a few times myself, honestly.
This, very much this! it's fun for you and for us, so doit for your enjoyment.
I have to say, i really REALLY love this, honestly.
robopanda
My avatar is the original Avatar!
- Location
- The Northern Air Temple
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I'm pretty sure the bolded phrase should be either tournament of wizards or wizard tournament.
Nice to see some of this guy's history.
Discussion and planing: COMPLETE. Pansey is pissed at Ehren. As usual. Now how long before Columba gets here?
- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
4th-9th November for the du Chasteler visit. So they will arrive Tuesday and stay until Sunday evening.
Colombe needs a few days to unpack her Kami-con swag and presents, catch up on the last month of bills, email, news, and so on, and sleep in her own bed before heading back out with Claire in tow.
You know, I remembered Haruto's brother (Now Ex-brother) and just how much of a horrible person he was. Remember, he got sevral family friends sent to the reserves, I think he wanted to ruin his parent's lives after he got into a high enough ranking in the Tokyo government and/or became the head of his family. And later he tired to torture and murder his brother because he got married to yokai (or in his mind: "SUB-HUMAN ANIMALS" his thoughts, not mine, which is yet another reason I hate the guy's guts), saw that as the last straw (in his mind it's like taking a dog home and having sex with it, he said it himself) and wanted to make it look like his wives killed him. When he could have just showed up, spewed racist comments, called Haruto a sick pervert, and stated he was dead to him. Honestly, part of me really wishes that after he gets out of prison he attempts to attack some yokai or Eric in Yokosuka (examples of yokai targets include: Sora, her family, Hinata or her mom) on the grounds that they're outside of a reserve or in Eric's case, being engaged to "an animal" and gets at least one shipgirl wanting to have a few words with him.
If one of you thinks that this is me pulling an ITG routine, I'm sorry. To me I'm just expressing my thoughts on a character who I hate as much as Olivia McKay and Umbridge (both of whom I hope get what's coming to them).
If one of you thinks that this is me pulling an ITG routine, I'm sorry. To me I'm just expressing my thoughts on a character who I hate as much as Olivia McKay and Umbridge (both of whom I hope get what's coming to them).
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