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Lazurman
This is fine.
- Location
- Classified
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yo. I'm Lazurman. I say things and do stuff, like writing fanfics and cracking jokes.
Trying to get back in the habit of writing SFW fics rather than just terrible smut on QQ, so that's what this is for. Little place to contain the plot bunnies so I don't keep posting threads with only one or two chapters before I lose steam and stop writing for them. You know how it is.
Hope you enjoy. Leave comments; they give me life. Or don't. I ain't your daddy.
Trying to get back in the habit of writing SFW fics rather than just terrible smut on QQ, so that's what this is for. Little place to contain the plot bunnies so I don't keep posting threads with only one or two chapters before I lose steam and stop writing for them. You know how it is.
Hope you enjoy. Leave comments; they give me life. Or don't. I ain't your daddy.
-Lionized Nevermore, an Adam Taurus soul-merge SI set in RWBY, told from Blake's perspective.
-Flight of the Traveler, a multicross planeswalker SI (and no not that kind of planeswalker) based on the Dimensional Traveler CYOA.
-Flight of the Traveler, a multicross planeswalker SI (and no not that kind of planeswalker) based on the Dimensional Traveler CYOA.
Last edited:
Lionized Nevermore, Ch 1
Lazurman
This is fine.
- Location
- Classified
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Lionized Nevermore
Chapter 1
It had been such a good day, Blake couldn't help but think forlornly.
It started with Ruby waking up the rest of her team like she always did; full of far, far too much morning person energy, yet somehow being more endearing than annoying. Then came classes; lightly dozing with her eyes open through Port's blustering about Grimm, taking what notes she could parse from Oobleck's…Oobleckness over history, some actual enthusiasm for Peach's wilderness survival course–though considering her years of practical experience, it was mostly just a refresher.
The only class Blake really had to put some genuine effort into was combat class with Goodwitch. She'd done well and earned a victory in her match against Lie Ren, with some room for improvement, as was always the case for that stern woman.
The sun was shining. The birds were singing. The flowers were blooming. The cafeteria had served swordfish again. With her teammates laughing and joking with her in their dorm as she read a good book, it had been, if not a perfect day, then a very good one.
And it all turned to ash in her mouth in an instant, as a cheerfully innocent and unsuspecting Ruby brought her a letter addressed to her by name. A letter with a symbol on it she'd recognize anywhere: a rose. Flower and stem, red as blood and drawn in exquisite detail.
Adam Taurus. Leader of the Vale chapter of the White Fang. Once mentor, partner, lover. Now…someone she was scared of. The man she had run away from rather than confront. That emblem could have come from no one else.
And he now knew exactly where she was. Somehow, someway, he had found her. The realization chilled her to the bone.
She looked at the unopened envelope in her shaking hands like one might a venomous snake. And something in her expression must have alerted Ruby.
"Blake?" the young girl asked, silver eyes wide and searching as her cheery smile faded. "Are…you okay? What is it?"
Blake could feel more than see Weiss and Yang's gazes suddenly snapping to her as their conversation ground to a halt, and she swallowed.
It's nothing, she wanted to say. But that lie would have been worse than useless. She could feel how pale her face had become, the expression of muted dread, the cat ears hidden under her bow pressed flat against her head.
They deserved better than lies from her. But…
"Could I…" She swallowed again, blinked rapidly. "Could I have the room to myself for a few minutes?" she asked weakly.
The remainder of Team RWBY shared a quick glance. Once a round of nods were exchanged, Ruby looked back at her and gave her assent. "Okay. We'll be outside. Take as long as you need, okay? We'll be ready to talk about it when you are."
The little redhead darted in to give her a quick hug around the waist, before spinning around and leaving the room, Weiss and Yang in her wake. Each of them gave her little touches to her back and shoulder and looks of their own to show their silent support, Yang's concerned purple eyes being the last thing she saw before the door closed. She stared after them for a good long moment.
She didn't deserve them.
Inhaling sharply through her nose, Blake returned her attention to the letter, sitting down on the closest bunk bed as she held it in both hands.
She felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, and she had no idea what lay at the bottom. But there was no way to know unless she stepped off it.
With one last fortifying breath, she broke the seal on the envelope, slid the letter free with a rasp of paper, and began to read.
Blake, I am sorry.
Just the first four words, and she'd have been less stunned if Adam had physically reached through the letter to punch her in the face. Blinking rapidly in shock, she kept reading. The feeling did not fade as she did.
I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for driving you away. I'm sorry for scaring you so much that leaving without saying a word was the only option left to you.
I've hurt a lot of people. Killed a few more. Most of whom, upon reflection, didn't have it coming. But worst of all, I hurt you, have been hurting you for a long time, and I'm sorry it took you leaving for me to realize that. You trusted me, and I betrayed that trust.
The handwriting was the same, she realized dazedly. Still impeccably neat, the same little flourishes of the pen she recognized. But the contents of the words themselves had her head spinning.
If you never want to see me again, then that will be entirely your right. To be honest, that would probably be the smart decision. I had my shot with you, and I blew it in the worst way.
But even knowing that, I still want to try and make things right with you. And to not let our last meeting be your last thoughts of me.
Their last meeting had involved Adam intending to blow up an SDC cargo train, callously disregarding the lives of the workers aboard it. They could have been overworked and underpaid faunus laborers for all they knew; Adam didn't know, or care to know. But whether or not they were human or faunus, they were guilty of nothing more than working for the wrong company. A step too far that Blake was unwilling to follow.
But the next line…
I've changed. I know how unbelievable that sounds, but I'm not that man anymore, I swear it.
Part of Blake wanted to believe that. The part of her that had admired Adam as a hero of the faunus, a champion of the oppressed. The man that had taught her how to fight, how to survive. The man she'd once been infatuated with…and joined in bed.
The rest of her rebelled at the thought. It had been several months since she had departed and became a huntress in training at Beacon, but was that really enough time for a man as driven and wrathful as Adam to change? All because of her?
She had finally begun to relax. To feel like she had a life for herself, here at Beacon, with friends who accepted her despite knowing of her past as a member of the White Fang. But then he just had to…send this damn letter, pull the stability she'd built for herself right out from beneath her feet.
Adam had lied to her about a lot.
'It was an accident,' he'd say, blood dripping from his chokuto. 'I didn't mean to.'
She would believe him—and then it would happen again. And again. And always, he'd downplay it, make her question her own feelings. As if he hadn't personally ended the lives of people too weak to stand a chance against him.
The hand not holding the letter ran through her hair, clenching a fistful of it as she hissed between clenched teeth. A storm of emotions was warring inside her, fear and hope and outrage and curiosity all swirling together into a seething, frustrating mess.
Near the end of their time together, he made her feel small, and stupid. She was glad to be away from him. So why was she even considering believing this?!
If this is too little, too late, then…do nothing. Burn this letter, throw it away, and never think about me again. That'll be the end of things. And it's…probably the smarter thing to do. For both of us.
But–if you do want to talk, I'll be sitting in a cozy little diner in Vale called Sandwiches For The Soul, this Saturday at noon. You can come alone, or with whoever you trust to be there watching out for you. Either way, I won't be armed.
There's things I have to say. And…I do want to see you again.
A scratched out beginning of a word. Then, simply:
Adam
Having finished reading, Blake stared blankly at the letter–before it fell out of her hands and to the floor as her face fell into them.
"Damn it," she sniffled. "Damn it!"
Minutes later, when Ruby finally cracked the door open to peek inside, Blake was no closer to coming to terms with her tempestuous feelings. One by one, the rest of Team RWBY filed back in, Blake's partner Yang and her sister Ruby taking up positions on either side, leaning against her shoulders while the usually standoffish Weiss hovered and fretted while trying to look like she wasn't.
They didn't know what was going on. But one of their own was hurting, and that was enough for them.
"Blake," Ruby opened gently, "what is going on?"
After a long, long moment, Blake opened her mouth and spoke.
"His name…is Adam Taurus. He's the leader of the Vale branch of the White Fang, second only to High Leader Sienna Khan. And before I came to Beacon, before I left him and them behind, he was my partner. My mentor. And now…now he wants to talk to me, face to face."
She hesitated a moment, but picked up and passed the letter off so they could read it. Frowns and consternated expressions abounded as they did. Of them all, only Weiss seemed to recognize the name, as her lips pursed.
"You're the one who knows him best, Blake. Do you think he could be telling the truth?" Ruby asked hesitantly. "About changing?"
Blake shook her head slowly, drawing her knees up to hug them to her chest. "I…I don't know. There's blood on his hands, Ruby. And not a small amount."
"I don't buy it," Yang said immediately, her frown deep. "What if he's just luring you into a trap?"
"That's what I'm afraid of. But…no, the location doesn't fit for that," Blake thought aloud. "A diner right in the middle of Vale, and not some isolated warehouse? If he tried anything, the police would be on him in minutes. He's always been much stronger than me, but a fight between us would still be anything but quick and quiet, especially if I bring backup like he mentioned."
"He…could be trying to sway you back to his side," Weiss offered.
"That's a likely possibility," Blake admitted, before wincing. She really didn't want to bring this up, but it was somewhat relevant. "My…family…has a great deal of history with the White Fang. My father is Ghira Belladonna, the White Fang's original founder, back when it was still a peaceful movement. Having me at Adam's side probably made him look more legitimate in the eyes of his followers."
A lightbulb visibly went off above Weiss' head, and her icy blue eyes grew wide. "Wait, hold on- You're that Belladonna?"
Blake couldn't help herself; a mild scoff escaped her. "Yes. I am 'that' Belladonna. I get that it's a common last name, but, really? None of you noticed?"
Awkward looks and scratching of scalps surrounded her, and Blake's expression and ears went flat.
"Well…history isn't exactly our strong suit?" Ruby tried with an abashed chuckle.
"It's recent hist- Ugh. Never mind." Blake dragged a palm down her face in exasperation. "Not important. What are we going to do about Adam? I can't just ignore this."
"I don't buy him having a change of heart," Yang repeated herself, before sighing. "But…this is probably the best opportunity we're going to get at finding out just what the White Fang are up to. If he's the leader, and if he actually wants to talk, then, well. Who better to ask what's up than Mr. White Fang himself?"
Blake's lips pressed together thinly. Those mirrored her sentiments exactly. But the idea of facing him again still made a part of her shy back in fear. A fear that grew so much worse at the thought of her team being anywhere near him, for fear of what he might do to them if this was a trap.
Adam was strong. And fast, and skilled, and oh so very quick to go for the throat.
If this was a trap, then she wouldn't be able to keep her friends safe.
But Blake was jarred from her increasingly negative thoughts as Yang's hand found her shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. "We're not letting you face him all by yourself. Don't even start trying to convince us otherwise."
The blonde's smile turned toothy, then. "And if he doesn't wanna talk, then we'll just kick his butt!"
"She's right," Ruby said confidently. "We're a team, and if we're gonna do this, it's gonna be as a team.
"You guys…"
Blake's eyes glimmered wetly, and she wiped at them with the back of her wrist. She wanted to try and dissuade them…but she was glad for the support.
They might not have been strong enough to beat Adam, maybe not even as a team. But she had faith in their skills enough that they could at the very least hold him off long enough for help to arrive in a worst case scenario.
So with a sigh, she gave in, and nodded; Yang grinned.
"If we're going to do this," Blake said with a determination she almost felt, "then it'd probably be a good idea not to crowd him with the whole team. Just one other person in the diner strikes me as a good balance. Yang would be the best option for my backup. She's the best fighter of us."
The blonde preened at the praise, flexing a bicep proudly. Blake could feel a flurry of motion behind her as Ruby no doubt tried to puncture her sister's ego before it could swell any further.
"But for the rest… You…should probably stay behind, Weiss." Blake winced, and shook her head. "No, you definitely should stay behind."
The white-haired heiress tossed her ponytail over her shoulder with a harrumph of discontent. "What's that supposed to mean? It's because I'm a Schnee, isn't it?"
"…Yes," Blake admitted; telling others of the logo branded over Adam's left eye felt taboo, even now. "Adam has…very deeply personal reasons to despise the SDC. And to the White Fang at large, your family name is synonymous with faunus oppression. I don't think he knows I'm on a team with you. There's no way he'd handle it well."
Weiss' expression was as if she'd swallowed a lemon, and she looked away. "...Fine." Then she turned her head back and raised a finger imperiously in Blake's direction. "But don't think for a second I'm sitting this out entirely! Ruby and I, we- we can wait a street over, with our scrolls ready to dial the police, or- or even Professor Ozpin himself, just in case anything goes wrong! Or if his so-called 'change of heart' isn't all that convincing; he is still a wanted murderer."
Blake nodded in acquiescence, her resolve firming. "Alright. Sounds like a plan. Just don't show your faces unless you hear something bad happening.
"Yeah! Go Team RWBY!" Ruby cheered, pumping her fist in the air. "Let's do this!"
"Yeah!/Yeah!"
These overenthusiastic goofballs were her best friends. Gods help her.
"The meeting's on Saturday, guys," she pointed out, her shoulders shaking as she repressed a laugh. "Two days from now."
"...Oh. Right."
Sheepishly, the rest of the team shuffled off to their own parts of the room, leaving Blake alone to her thoughts.
This was really going to happen, she thought dazedly as the team bustled about, gathering Dust and loading magazines and performing weapons maintenance and otherwise preparing for what might very well be the most difficult battle they'd faced in their lives.
For her part, Blake was doing her best to settle her nerves.
She was feeling more and more confident that they'd be okay if things devolved to violence.
But…if they didn't… If Adam really did want to talk… If he really did change…
Blake had no idea how she was going to handle it.
-.-.-.-
"That was a mistake. It won't help us."
"It will grant us closure. All three of us."
"We don't need closure. Neither does she."
"We do. She does. And you know it."
"Only because you do."
"This might be our last chance. Do you really want to risk dying with words left unsaid?"
"Hrmmm…"
Chapter 1
It had been such a good day, Blake couldn't help but think forlornly.
It started with Ruby waking up the rest of her team like she always did; full of far, far too much morning person energy, yet somehow being more endearing than annoying. Then came classes; lightly dozing with her eyes open through Port's blustering about Grimm, taking what notes she could parse from Oobleck's…Oobleckness over history, some actual enthusiasm for Peach's wilderness survival course–though considering her years of practical experience, it was mostly just a refresher.
The only class Blake really had to put some genuine effort into was combat class with Goodwitch. She'd done well and earned a victory in her match against Lie Ren, with some room for improvement, as was always the case for that stern woman.
The sun was shining. The birds were singing. The flowers were blooming. The cafeteria had served swordfish again. With her teammates laughing and joking with her in their dorm as she read a good book, it had been, if not a perfect day, then a very good one.
And it all turned to ash in her mouth in an instant, as a cheerfully innocent and unsuspecting Ruby brought her a letter addressed to her by name. A letter with a symbol on it she'd recognize anywhere: a rose. Flower and stem, red as blood and drawn in exquisite detail.
Adam Taurus. Leader of the Vale chapter of the White Fang. Once mentor, partner, lover. Now…someone she was scared of. The man she had run away from rather than confront. That emblem could have come from no one else.
And he now knew exactly where she was. Somehow, someway, he had found her. The realization chilled her to the bone.
She looked at the unopened envelope in her shaking hands like one might a venomous snake. And something in her expression must have alerted Ruby.
"Blake?" the young girl asked, silver eyes wide and searching as her cheery smile faded. "Are…you okay? What is it?"
Blake could feel more than see Weiss and Yang's gazes suddenly snapping to her as their conversation ground to a halt, and she swallowed.
It's nothing, she wanted to say. But that lie would have been worse than useless. She could feel how pale her face had become, the expression of muted dread, the cat ears hidden under her bow pressed flat against her head.
They deserved better than lies from her. But…
"Could I…" She swallowed again, blinked rapidly. "Could I have the room to myself for a few minutes?" she asked weakly.
The remainder of Team RWBY shared a quick glance. Once a round of nods were exchanged, Ruby looked back at her and gave her assent. "Okay. We'll be outside. Take as long as you need, okay? We'll be ready to talk about it when you are."
The little redhead darted in to give her a quick hug around the waist, before spinning around and leaving the room, Weiss and Yang in her wake. Each of them gave her little touches to her back and shoulder and looks of their own to show their silent support, Yang's concerned purple eyes being the last thing she saw before the door closed. She stared after them for a good long moment.
She didn't deserve them.
Inhaling sharply through her nose, Blake returned her attention to the letter, sitting down on the closest bunk bed as she held it in both hands.
She felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, and she had no idea what lay at the bottom. But there was no way to know unless she stepped off it.
With one last fortifying breath, she broke the seal on the envelope, slid the letter free with a rasp of paper, and began to read.
Blake, I am sorry.
Just the first four words, and she'd have been less stunned if Adam had physically reached through the letter to punch her in the face. Blinking rapidly in shock, she kept reading. The feeling did not fade as she did.
I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for driving you away. I'm sorry for scaring you so much that leaving without saying a word was the only option left to you.
I've hurt a lot of people. Killed a few more. Most of whom, upon reflection, didn't have it coming. But worst of all, I hurt you, have been hurting you for a long time, and I'm sorry it took you leaving for me to realize that. You trusted me, and I betrayed that trust.
The handwriting was the same, she realized dazedly. Still impeccably neat, the same little flourishes of the pen she recognized. But the contents of the words themselves had her head spinning.
If you never want to see me again, then that will be entirely your right. To be honest, that would probably be the smart decision. I had my shot with you, and I blew it in the worst way.
But even knowing that, I still want to try and make things right with you. And to not let our last meeting be your last thoughts of me.
Their last meeting had involved Adam intending to blow up an SDC cargo train, callously disregarding the lives of the workers aboard it. They could have been overworked and underpaid faunus laborers for all they knew; Adam didn't know, or care to know. But whether or not they were human or faunus, they were guilty of nothing more than working for the wrong company. A step too far that Blake was unwilling to follow.
But the next line…
I've changed. I know how unbelievable that sounds, but I'm not that man anymore, I swear it.
Part of Blake wanted to believe that. The part of her that had admired Adam as a hero of the faunus, a champion of the oppressed. The man that had taught her how to fight, how to survive. The man she'd once been infatuated with…and joined in bed.
The rest of her rebelled at the thought. It had been several months since she had departed and became a huntress in training at Beacon, but was that really enough time for a man as driven and wrathful as Adam to change? All because of her?
She had finally begun to relax. To feel like she had a life for herself, here at Beacon, with friends who accepted her despite knowing of her past as a member of the White Fang. But then he just had to…send this damn letter, pull the stability she'd built for herself right out from beneath her feet.
Adam had lied to her about a lot.
'It was an accident,' he'd say, blood dripping from his chokuto. 'I didn't mean to.'
She would believe him—and then it would happen again. And again. And always, he'd downplay it, make her question her own feelings. As if he hadn't personally ended the lives of people too weak to stand a chance against him.
The hand not holding the letter ran through her hair, clenching a fistful of it as she hissed between clenched teeth. A storm of emotions was warring inside her, fear and hope and outrage and curiosity all swirling together into a seething, frustrating mess.
Near the end of their time together, he made her feel small, and stupid. She was glad to be away from him. So why was she even considering believing this?!
If this is too little, too late, then…do nothing. Burn this letter, throw it away, and never think about me again. That'll be the end of things. And it's…probably the smarter thing to do. For both of us.
But–if you do want to talk, I'll be sitting in a cozy little diner in Vale called Sandwiches For The Soul, this Saturday at noon. You can come alone, or with whoever you trust to be there watching out for you. Either way, I won't be armed.
There's things I have to say. And…I do want to see you again.
A scratched out beginning of a word. Then, simply:
Adam
Having finished reading, Blake stared blankly at the letter–before it fell out of her hands and to the floor as her face fell into them.
"Damn it," she sniffled. "Damn it!"
Minutes later, when Ruby finally cracked the door open to peek inside, Blake was no closer to coming to terms with her tempestuous feelings. One by one, the rest of Team RWBY filed back in, Blake's partner Yang and her sister Ruby taking up positions on either side, leaning against her shoulders while the usually standoffish Weiss hovered and fretted while trying to look like she wasn't.
They didn't know what was going on. But one of their own was hurting, and that was enough for them.
"Blake," Ruby opened gently, "what is going on?"
After a long, long moment, Blake opened her mouth and spoke.
"His name…is Adam Taurus. He's the leader of the Vale branch of the White Fang, second only to High Leader Sienna Khan. And before I came to Beacon, before I left him and them behind, he was my partner. My mentor. And now…now he wants to talk to me, face to face."
She hesitated a moment, but picked up and passed the letter off so they could read it. Frowns and consternated expressions abounded as they did. Of them all, only Weiss seemed to recognize the name, as her lips pursed.
"You're the one who knows him best, Blake. Do you think he could be telling the truth?" Ruby asked hesitantly. "About changing?"
Blake shook her head slowly, drawing her knees up to hug them to her chest. "I…I don't know. There's blood on his hands, Ruby. And not a small amount."
"I don't buy it," Yang said immediately, her frown deep. "What if he's just luring you into a trap?"
"That's what I'm afraid of. But…no, the location doesn't fit for that," Blake thought aloud. "A diner right in the middle of Vale, and not some isolated warehouse? If he tried anything, the police would be on him in minutes. He's always been much stronger than me, but a fight between us would still be anything but quick and quiet, especially if I bring backup like he mentioned."
"He…could be trying to sway you back to his side," Weiss offered.
"That's a likely possibility," Blake admitted, before wincing. She really didn't want to bring this up, but it was somewhat relevant. "My…family…has a great deal of history with the White Fang. My father is Ghira Belladonna, the White Fang's original founder, back when it was still a peaceful movement. Having me at Adam's side probably made him look more legitimate in the eyes of his followers."
A lightbulb visibly went off above Weiss' head, and her icy blue eyes grew wide. "Wait, hold on- You're that Belladonna?"
Blake couldn't help herself; a mild scoff escaped her. "Yes. I am 'that' Belladonna. I get that it's a common last name, but, really? None of you noticed?"
Awkward looks and scratching of scalps surrounded her, and Blake's expression and ears went flat.
"Well…history isn't exactly our strong suit?" Ruby tried with an abashed chuckle.
"It's recent hist- Ugh. Never mind." Blake dragged a palm down her face in exasperation. "Not important. What are we going to do about Adam? I can't just ignore this."
"I don't buy him having a change of heart," Yang repeated herself, before sighing. "But…this is probably the best opportunity we're going to get at finding out just what the White Fang are up to. If he's the leader, and if he actually wants to talk, then, well. Who better to ask what's up than Mr. White Fang himself?"
Blake's lips pressed together thinly. Those mirrored her sentiments exactly. But the idea of facing him again still made a part of her shy back in fear. A fear that grew so much worse at the thought of her team being anywhere near him, for fear of what he might do to them if this was a trap.
Adam was strong. And fast, and skilled, and oh so very quick to go for the throat.
If this was a trap, then she wouldn't be able to keep her friends safe.
But Blake was jarred from her increasingly negative thoughts as Yang's hand found her shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. "We're not letting you face him all by yourself. Don't even start trying to convince us otherwise."
The blonde's smile turned toothy, then. "And if he doesn't wanna talk, then we'll just kick his butt!"
"She's right," Ruby said confidently. "We're a team, and if we're gonna do this, it's gonna be as a team.
"You guys…"
Blake's eyes glimmered wetly, and she wiped at them with the back of her wrist. She wanted to try and dissuade them…but she was glad for the support.
They might not have been strong enough to beat Adam, maybe not even as a team. But she had faith in their skills enough that they could at the very least hold him off long enough for help to arrive in a worst case scenario.
So with a sigh, she gave in, and nodded; Yang grinned.
"If we're going to do this," Blake said with a determination she almost felt, "then it'd probably be a good idea not to crowd him with the whole team. Just one other person in the diner strikes me as a good balance. Yang would be the best option for my backup. She's the best fighter of us."
The blonde preened at the praise, flexing a bicep proudly. Blake could feel a flurry of motion behind her as Ruby no doubt tried to puncture her sister's ego before it could swell any further.
"But for the rest… You…should probably stay behind, Weiss." Blake winced, and shook her head. "No, you definitely should stay behind."
The white-haired heiress tossed her ponytail over her shoulder with a harrumph of discontent. "What's that supposed to mean? It's because I'm a Schnee, isn't it?"
"…Yes," Blake admitted; telling others of the logo branded over Adam's left eye felt taboo, even now. "Adam has…very deeply personal reasons to despise the SDC. And to the White Fang at large, your family name is synonymous with faunus oppression. I don't think he knows I'm on a team with you. There's no way he'd handle it well."
Weiss' expression was as if she'd swallowed a lemon, and she looked away. "...Fine." Then she turned her head back and raised a finger imperiously in Blake's direction. "But don't think for a second I'm sitting this out entirely! Ruby and I, we- we can wait a street over, with our scrolls ready to dial the police, or- or even Professor Ozpin himself, just in case anything goes wrong! Or if his so-called 'change of heart' isn't all that convincing; he is still a wanted murderer."
Blake nodded in acquiescence, her resolve firming. "Alright. Sounds like a plan. Just don't show your faces unless you hear something bad happening.
"Yeah! Go Team RWBY!" Ruby cheered, pumping her fist in the air. "Let's do this!"
"Yeah!/Yeah!"
These overenthusiastic goofballs were her best friends. Gods help her.
"The meeting's on Saturday, guys," she pointed out, her shoulders shaking as she repressed a laugh. "Two days from now."
"...Oh. Right."
Sheepishly, the rest of the team shuffled off to their own parts of the room, leaving Blake alone to her thoughts.
This was really going to happen, she thought dazedly as the team bustled about, gathering Dust and loading magazines and performing weapons maintenance and otherwise preparing for what might very well be the most difficult battle they'd faced in their lives.
For her part, Blake was doing her best to settle her nerves.
She was feeling more and more confident that they'd be okay if things devolved to violence.
But…if they didn't… If Adam really did want to talk… If he really did change…
Blake had no idea how she was going to handle it.
-.-.-.-
"That was a mistake. It won't help us."
"It will grant us closure. All three of us."
"We don't need closure. Neither does she."
"We do. She does. And you know it."
"Only because you do."
"This might be our last chance. Do you really want to risk dying with words left unsaid?"
"Hrmmm…"
If I somehow manage to maintain the willpower to write at least five chapters of this, it'll get its own thread. But I know myself; that's vanishingly unlikely.
But hey, RWBY V9 comes tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. The 18th. Fuck my sleep schedule, man.
But hey, RWBY V9 comes tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. The 18th. Fuck my sleep schedule, man.
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Flight of the Traveler, Ch 1
Lazurman
This is fine.
- Location
- Classified
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Flight of the Traveler
Chapter 1
If there's one thing I've noticed about myself, it's that I complain a lot. Most of my complaints are just petty gripes, to tell the truth. But this one I felt was more valid.
I hate marching. You would too, if you'd spent years doing it. My knee hasn't been the same since that one trek in Lejeune's muddy trails before the sun came up, just after a heavy rain. Aches especially bad on cold days. Fuck you very much for that, First Sergeant.
Small mercies. It ain't hurting now, even with all this walking I'm doing. And that's a lot of walking. Magic's pretty good like that, I guess.
For an ex-suburbanite like myself, the city of Orario is a nightmarish maze, full of twists, turns, and dead-end alleys. And it is very much not a safe place to be, outside of the main thoroughfares. Which is unfortunately where I need to go.
The sheer variety of colors, shapes, and sizes of the other pedestrians is more than a little disconcerting, to tell the truth, but I'm adjusting. It'd be a different matter entirely if I hadn't spent my entire life up to this point immersing myself in stories which contained multitudinous non-human races. Elves, dwarves, pallums, assorted beastkin? Hardly anything as bizarre as could be found in other worlds. Still, an adjustment.
Weirdest for me is probably the pallums. Hobbits by another name, just without the hairy feet. As far as I could tell anyway… When I see someone that short, my brain defaults to 'child', and that kind of thinking is going to cause me problems if I don't correct it.
Case in point, in six seconds a small hand is going to snatch the silver cylinder off my belt.
I stop, wrap my fist around it, thumb over the button on its side, turn, and stare at the childlike figure of a grubby, shaggy-headed pallum, who freezes with their arm outstretched as I make eye contact. No clue how old they are, or even if they're a boy or a girl. To be honest, I don't really give a shit. Not now.
I shake my head, staring them down. "That's dangerous business, in this city. Get along, now."
I make a slight shooing motion with my other hand, and the tiny person bolts, vanishing into a side alley with a fading patter of feet on the cobblestone.
I shake my head in exasperation, and keep walking. I'd never been pickpocketed before, and I don't plan on starting now. That's the third attempt in as many hours, and of them, the second pallum.
Bah. Desperation or greed makes fools of us all. And to attempt to rob someone who may or may not be a divinely blessed superhumanly powerful adventurer is certainly driven by one or the other.
Not that I exactly look the part of a divinely blessed superhumanly powerful adventurer. While my clothes are baggy, I still have something of a potbelly, and my arms are twigs in comparison to most of the armed folks I was rubbing shoulders with. Been a long time since I've been in good shape. Still.
I can't help but think on it as I continue moving. From what I recall, the entire pallum race has fallen on hard times, after learning from the gods themselves that the goddess they worshiped never existed in the first place. Can't really imagine what that'd do to one's psyche, especially not with my atheist outlook.
Hmm. That's gonna be another adjustment, isn't it? Can't exactly be a skeptic about the afterlife and your place in it when hundreds of gods are running amok in the mortal world, on vacation from their heavenly duties. And that was just for this world in particular.
But if the events of the anime are at all accurate to this reality I find myself in, then the vast majority of these gods are unworthy of worship anyway. I grumble wordlessly, hunch my shoulders, and keep walking.
It's not long after that that the first leg of my journey comes to an end. It has taken me too damn long to reach this point, but after enough pestering on my part and a surprising number of helpful strangers, I've finally found it: the Loki Familia's estate, the ostentatiously named Twilight Manor.
I squint up at the opulent mansion from under my hoodie. Beyond the polished bronze gate manned by a pair of halberd-wielding guards lay clean white stone walls and many towers stretching into the skyline. The place looks like a castle fit for a queen to call home. Which makes sense, I suppose, considering Loki is a goddess, and her Familia are all adoptive demigods.
No, I didn't stutter. Goddess, not god, here. And I'm… fairly certain that she hasn't ever fucked a horse. Could be wrong, though, about both of those things. The multiverse is funny like that. And reality ain't always gonna match up with what's depicted in my Japanese cartoons.
Really, the place would have been so much easier to find if I had had the foresight to find a good vantage point. As it was, I'd been stuck wandering in the winding city streets, surrounded by markedly primitive yet well-made buildings and rubbing shoulders with teeming crowds of several different races. The most important city in this world is a pretty popular place. Who'da thunk it?
Silver linings. All the walking I'd done has given me plenty of the sunlight and fresh air I needed—and more importantly, time to get my thoughts in order, tumultuous as they are. I still only have the vaguest beginnings of a plan moving forward, and the first step to that plan lies behind that gate.
Closing my eyes, I take in a deep breath, let it out, and open them once more, firming my resolve and marching up to the gate guards. They take note of me as I approach. The clothing trends of this world are wild, eclectic, colorful, and quite skimpy in places, to say the very least, but I can't help but feel like my modern clothes stand out nonetheless. Haven't seen blue jeans and a hoodie like mine so far.
I come to a halt a respectful distance away. The guards, both human, don't seem volatile or temperamental—just bored yet attentive, matching expressions much like the one I myself had worn on watch. I'll have to hope that holds. My plans could be put on hold for hours more if they decided to be dicks. I could definitely wait that long, but it would be a big pain in the ass. I really didn't want to still be homeless come sundown.
"State your business," the guard on the left declares, his hand momentarily tightening around the halberd he carried. Its butt is still planted on the ground, but I can see the implied threat for what it was. No funny business.
"I'm here to speak to Loki," I say, keeping my hands loose at my side, hovering a few inches away from the silver cylinder and the abnormal pistol clipped to my belt. If things somehow go catastrophically wrong and he attacks me, I'm pretty sure I could cut him down. Naturally, if that happens, I am going to be very dead in short order.
"We're not recruiting, newbie. Get lost."
"I know that." I didn't, actually, but they don't need to know that. "While being part of the Loki Familia would be nice, it's not what I'm here for." Also a lie; all I need to do is talk to the goddess, and I'm as good as recruited. The gods here just can't help themselves when it comes to new and exciting stuff. And I'd say I definitely count as such. "It's more a matter of business than anything else."
"Izzat so, huh?" The second guard leans on his weapon, smirking. "Our goddess hates having her time wasted, you know. I'd just hate to have to throw you out."
Doubtful.
"Sir, I can guarantee you Loki will be interested in hearing what I have to say," I say, truthfully this time. "I'm willing to wait as long as I need to. I only ask that you let her know a magician with weird magic is willing to do business with her."
The two guards exchange a look. The first guard jerks his head towards me, and the second shrugs. Then they both look back at me, silent conversation concluded. I blink placidly.
"Fine. Sit tight. Ya got a name to pass on?"
I shake my head, inwardly relieved. "She wouldn't know me. But it's-
Esshai.
"-Matthew."
I bury the flinch as best I can, and trudge off to the side to take a seat on a nearby bench as the second guard unlocks and slips through the gate. My head bows as I press my lips against my laced fingers, my elbows resting on my knees. I'm glad for my hood, then. I don't want to look at other people.
My name is Matthew. Not Esshai. I am not him, and he is not me. No matter the fact that his memories and powers are mine, no matter the fact that I'll only be getting more and more of them as time goes on.
I am Matthew. A lazy NEET in way over his head. Not… anyone else.
I close my eyes and just breathe. Breathe and wait.
A mixed blessing, having time to think about my problems. Lately, my go-to method of dealing with my problems has consisted of getting drunk, playing video games until the wee hours of the morn' until my eyeballs are dry and bloodshot, and generally not dealing with my problems.
Here, I have no home, no money, no booze, no video games, and my problems are considerably more dire than petty first world mid-twenties angst.
Obviously, that bad habit of mine can't go on.
I need help. Mental, physical, financial… spiritual; you name it, I need it. And the people that could get me at least some of that help were beyond that gate.
Knowing without a shadow of a doubt that someone, somewhere, wants me--me in particular—dead… It changes things. Puts things into perspective.
It's not all bad, really. At least it proves that I still have a will to live, seeing as how I'm not willing to just lie down and let it happen. My teeth clench and my knuckles whiten at the very thought. All of infinity lay before my feet, as well as all the time in the world to explore it. I'd be damned if I just let that go without a fight.
But after the momentary burst of resolve passes, my shoulders sag slightly. I've definitely got an uphill battle ahead of me, though. I am nothing in comparison to my hunter.
Or, more immediately, to the people living in that mansion. I look back up at it, only to see the second guard come stepping out the front door at a brisk pace. I stand up and brush myself off. There's not much I can do to disguise the fact that I'd spent the last couple hours trekking around the city and sweating my ass off, but I don't exactly have my Sunday Best ready for a meeting with a goddess. Bah.
-.-.-.-
In case the opulent mansion wasn't enough of a hint, the interior clinches it: the Loki Familia is rich--filthy stinkin' rich, even--and proud of it. Decades of adventuring having paid off quite nicely.
The guard leads me through the mansion's corridors, and almost every inch of them is covered in examples of that wealth. Soft, clean, colorful carpets, oil paintings depicting epic struggles between heroes and monsters--and I think I recognize some of the figures in them.
Here, the tanned feminine figures dressed in the attire of exotic dancers dueling minotaurs could only be the Hiryute twins. There, a portrait of a heartbreakingly beautiful elf woman with green hair in calm repose; Princess Riveria.
If things went well, my ugly mug would be joining them.
There were others, too, but I don't have the luxury of admiring them in detail. The guard's stride is long, and I'm not going to risk being left alone and unattended in the home of the second most powerful Familia in the world. That way trouble lies. So I keep pace behind him like a good, polite little guest.
Eventually, we come to a sturdy-looking wooden door, and my escort pounds on it.
"Goddess!" he all but shouts. "Your guest is here!"
"Send him in, why don'tcha?" comes the muffled reply.
The guard goes to open the door, but pauses with his hand on the handle, and glances back at me. "Best behavior, now."
"Of course."
Time to face the music.
Entering, I cast a quick glance around the room, but find the majority of my focus drawn to Loki. The goddess.
Intellectually, due to my bizarre source of knowledge, I already know that she is a goddess. But seeing a goddess in the flesh is another matter entirely.
You look at a book and think, that's a book. You look at a dog and think, that's a dog. Past experiences and learned knowledge shaping your observations.
I have no past experiences to draw on here, but the effect is pretty much the same. I look at the woman lazily reclining on some kind of half-couch, frothy mug of drink in hand, and think, that's a goddess. Something known on a level beyond the intellectual. An unmistakable… presence, so to say.
The temptation to truly open my eyes and see the truth of what lies beneath is strong. But I don't. Not just yet.
The goddess, who looks like a short redhead with no tits and with an outfit consisting of hotpants, stockings, gogo boots, a tube top, and just the sleeves for a sweater (without the rest of the sweater and separate from the tube top), could easily be mistaken for a very pretty guy. Especially with that ab definition.
Very, very nice ab definition… Does she cheat using divine power, or does she actually work for those? Either way...
I blink slowly, and purse my lips. Don't stare. Or lick your lips like she's a cut of meat.
Her eyes. Stare at her eyes!
Which are still closed. Off-putting, but I suppose that's the point. Loki is a wily woman, very much still a trickster goddess at heart. I need to be cautious around her.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Loki," I say at last, after an awkward moment of empty silence.
And that gets her to crack open one ruby red eye. Her, dare I say it, vulpine grin grows.
"I get that yer bein' polite and all, but I gotta say, starting off negotiations with anything less than the whole truth is poor form." She clicks her tongue disapprovingly, but her smile remains.
I gulp. I'd only half-remembered that the gods of this world were living lie detectors; hadn't anticipated it triggering over as banal a statement as a greeting.
Not unrecoverable, though. "Ah. In that case, my apologies. A better phrasing would be…" I take a moment to look for the words. Find them. "It's very interesting to meet you, Loki. I've never met a goddess before, and I'm more than a little intimidated."
She barks a laugh. "Hah! Better, though that's a little too honest, now. You should work on that."
In spite of myself, I can't help but smile ruefully, and a huff of amusement escapes me. A trickster, but not an out and out malicious one, as I recall. Certainly not to those she calls her own, which I hope to be soon.
So long as you aren't in their firing line, those types can be fun.
"I'll be sure to do so." I try to relax a bit, and glance over at the empty chair facing her. "May I sit?"
Loki waves with her free hand. "I'll allow it."
So I take a seat. Try and consider my plan of attack. But ultimately? With someone like Loki? Having no plan and adapting quickly was probably a better idea.
"So, Matthew the magician with weird magic, what business do you got for me?" Loki purrs, swishing the contents of her mug before taking a pull from it. Reminds me how thirsty I am.
Straight to the point. I can handle that.
"I'd like to hire the Loki Familia," I say, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees and my hands loosely laced between them.
"Ohhh? What for?"
Here goes. Everything rests on this.
"Protection," I say simply, still smiling a small smile, but I'd like to think that my eyes bely it. I have a bad habit of smiling when I'm upset. Should probably kick it.
Just like that, I finally manage to get Loki to open both eyes. Yay. "Hmmm… Interesting. Don't think anyone's hired us for bodyguard duty before. Must be some real scary guy if you're comin' to us for help. Our services ain't gonna be cheap, ya know?"
Her red eyes glint with amusement. I try not to let any sour feelings in over it. The gods had descended to the mortal realm for entertainment, after all. And absent any personal stake in the matter, I suppose my problem would certainly qualify as dramatic and exciting enough for their tastes.
I nod. "There's a bit of a story attached, if you've got time to hear it…"
"I got nothin' better to do. For now. Tell me yer story, scruffy. Ah- Tch."
The goddess clicks her tongue, suddenly seeming peeved. "If this is familia business, then I guess I have to get the familia involved. One sec. FINN!" she shouts suddenly, and I jerk in place. "OI, FIIIIINN! Get yer lazy butt in here!"
A reasonable step. I wrack my brain for knowledge of the name. Finn Deimne, the Braver.
At least, that's what I think his title is. Not sure why he's called that, to be honest. The Braver, not the Brave or the Bravest. This is a real world, full of all the little imperfections that make a living world, that make life life, not just a decent harem rom-com shounen anime. I have to treat it as such. So that means that there's a reason that he's called The Braver, besides a mangaka making cool Engrish names for the main cast. And… Lacking greater context or cultural knowledge, the only theory I have is that the gods are a bunch of careless weirdoes, and the nicknames they give their mortal servants reflects this.
That tangent aside… He's the captain of the Loki Familia. Loki obviously trusts him enough to say he's in charge of running the damn thing. Her first adopted child, if I recall correctly. So in addition to her, he's someone I have to convince to let join his familia.
Convince one, and I'd convince the other. Hopefully.
I absently twiddle my thumbs and wait as Loki takes another drink. My knee bounces with nervous energy until I notice it and quell it.
Thankfully, we don't have to wait long, only for a minute or two. Had he already been close by, or had he used the blistering speed of a first-class adventurer to arrive quickly? My head swivels sharply to look back at the door I came in from. A few short seconds later, and it opens, and a small blond waif of a lad steps in.
Appearances can be deceiving. He's actually closer to forty years old. Whether it's his pallum heritage at work, or the divine blessing he wears on his back, he's aged utterly unfairly well. Doesn't look a day over twelve, maybe thirteen. I had baby brothers bigger than him, and he had more power in his pinky finger than my entire extended family did in their whole bodies. He was unarmed and dressed only in loose and comfortable clothes colored purple and yellow rather than armor, but this is his home, so that makes sense.
"You called, Loki?" the boy—the man, I corrected, asks calmly, his voice youthful. He seems to be the spitting image of relaxation. His blue eyes fall on me, and his head tilts in polite curiosity.
She waves him over, and he hops up to sit on the arm of her couch. Her head nuzzles against his thigh with obvious affection; kinda like a cat.
"Yup," she replies, popping the p. "Boyo here wants to hire us to be his bodyguards. Figured he'd only wanna tell the story once."
"Mighty kind of ya," I say, nodding my head in consideration. My eyes close as I steel myself.
It all happened so fast. But it was no less traumatizing for it.
"You've already confirmed for me the fact that gods can detect lies," I begin. "That makes this easier for me."
No backing out. No bullshitting them.
"To the best of my knowledge, I am not crazy, delusional, or insane-" I begin.
"Oooh, this should be good," Loki pipes up, an eager grin on her face—to which Finn sighs in exasperation and lightly karate chops the top of her head.
"Owie!"
"Be nice, Loki," he rebukes her. "Let him tell his story."
The chastised goddess mulishly nursed her drink, glowering. If I was in a better mood, I might have laughed. But honestly? On one of the most stressful days in my life? Loki's attitude kind of pissed me off.
Irrelevant. Keep talking, before your throat closes up.
"…Like I was saying. Not crazy. Please keep that in mind, cuz a lot of what I'm about to say is going to sound very…outlandish, at the very least. But believe me when I say that everything I am about to tell you is true to the best of my knowledge.
Seven seconds in, seven seconds out. My fingers drum across my knee thrice more, and go still.
"Let's get the big one out of the way first." I stare directly into Loki's eyes, my expression sober. "I am not from this world. Not this city, not this continent, not this planet—not this plane of existence."
It takes a second for the words to sink in, but when they do, Loki seems to forget her disgruntlement as her eyes go wide.
Good. I really would love it if she quit joking around.
"In my world, there is no dungeon," I continue, keeping my voice level. "There are no other sapient races besides humans. And if gods actually exist there? Then they either haven't descended, or they have and are being very, very, very quiet about the fact that they exist, and keeping their existence a secret for whatever reason—and secrets are increasingly hard to keep in my world."
Finn's eyebrows had steadily climbed as I spoke, and he shoots a glance at his goddess. Loki gives a small nod, and slowly sits up straight and leans forward, elbows on her knees. The expression on her face is one of keen interest, or I'd eat my belt.
"Less than a day ago, I was a nobody. Not a special thing about me. A jobless, out of shape civilian of no status. Less than a day ago."
My motions are deliberate as I pull up my sleeves one at a time, exposing pale and skinny forearms.
Huh. The scar on my wrist from that time I'd spilled molten pizza on my arm is gone. I never thought I'd miss it, but I do, strangely.
"Nothing in my hands. Nothing up my sleeves."
A couple years ago, I'd had this bad dream—not scary enough to call it a nightmare. Just depressing. In it, I'd soared through the sky like a bird, light and happy and joyful and free. But the moment I went to show my family, the power was gone, no matter how hard I jumped. Stuck on the ground like the rest of humanity, looking like a crazy idiot.
It is an irrational fear, I know. That the same thing will happen here. Obviously, magic isn't real, and I'm a delusional fool for thinking otherwise, and I'm gonna wake up at any second.
It hadn't been real, anyway.
I cup my hands, and in them, unnatural blue light gleams, reflected in the eyes of my hosts as I casually break thermodynamics over my knee.
I let out a breath of relief. It's real. It's really really real. I can feel it coursing through my veins, I can feel it in the presence of knowledge spanning centuries in my mind. I can feel its weight in my palms—the weight of a blue magic crystal the size of two knuckles. Without conscious input from me, it had grown into a mesmerizingly beautiful flower. I remembered making many baubles just like it, using them as trinkets, calling cards, and paperweights. Esshai did.
"And now, after a strange man fell from a portal and landed at my feet, and blasted me with a ray of light with his dying breath… I have magic. I am a wizard. And if the memories that accompanied that light are anything to go by, I'm gonna be a damned powerful one."
My gaze rises from the glimmering rock in my hands. Slowly, my neck turns to gravely stare each of my silent hosts in the eyes.
"Which brings me to why I'm here. I need you to protect me from the monster that killed a much older, more experienced, and much more powerful wizard, and is now hunting me across the multiverse."
Chapter 1
If there's one thing I've noticed about myself, it's that I complain a lot. Most of my complaints are just petty gripes, to tell the truth. But this one I felt was more valid.
I hate marching. You would too, if you'd spent years doing it. My knee hasn't been the same since that one trek in Lejeune's muddy trails before the sun came up, just after a heavy rain. Aches especially bad on cold days. Fuck you very much for that, First Sergeant.
Small mercies. It ain't hurting now, even with all this walking I'm doing. And that's a lot of walking. Magic's pretty good like that, I guess.
For an ex-suburbanite like myself, the city of Orario is a nightmarish maze, full of twists, turns, and dead-end alleys. And it is very much not a safe place to be, outside of the main thoroughfares. Which is unfortunately where I need to go.
The sheer variety of colors, shapes, and sizes of the other pedestrians is more than a little disconcerting, to tell the truth, but I'm adjusting. It'd be a different matter entirely if I hadn't spent my entire life up to this point immersing myself in stories which contained multitudinous non-human races. Elves, dwarves, pallums, assorted beastkin? Hardly anything as bizarre as could be found in other worlds. Still, an adjustment.
Weirdest for me is probably the pallums. Hobbits by another name, just without the hairy feet. As far as I could tell anyway… When I see someone that short, my brain defaults to 'child', and that kind of thinking is going to cause me problems if I don't correct it.
Case in point, in six seconds a small hand is going to snatch the silver cylinder off my belt.
I stop, wrap my fist around it, thumb over the button on its side, turn, and stare at the childlike figure of a grubby, shaggy-headed pallum, who freezes with their arm outstretched as I make eye contact. No clue how old they are, or even if they're a boy or a girl. To be honest, I don't really give a shit. Not now.
I shake my head, staring them down. "That's dangerous business, in this city. Get along, now."
I make a slight shooing motion with my other hand, and the tiny person bolts, vanishing into a side alley with a fading patter of feet on the cobblestone.
I shake my head in exasperation, and keep walking. I'd never been pickpocketed before, and I don't plan on starting now. That's the third attempt in as many hours, and of them, the second pallum.
Bah. Desperation or greed makes fools of us all. And to attempt to rob someone who may or may not be a divinely blessed superhumanly powerful adventurer is certainly driven by one or the other.
Not that I exactly look the part of a divinely blessed superhumanly powerful adventurer. While my clothes are baggy, I still have something of a potbelly, and my arms are twigs in comparison to most of the armed folks I was rubbing shoulders with. Been a long time since I've been in good shape. Still.
I can't help but think on it as I continue moving. From what I recall, the entire pallum race has fallen on hard times, after learning from the gods themselves that the goddess they worshiped never existed in the first place. Can't really imagine what that'd do to one's psyche, especially not with my atheist outlook.
Hmm. That's gonna be another adjustment, isn't it? Can't exactly be a skeptic about the afterlife and your place in it when hundreds of gods are running amok in the mortal world, on vacation from their heavenly duties. And that was just for this world in particular.
But if the events of the anime are at all accurate to this reality I find myself in, then the vast majority of these gods are unworthy of worship anyway. I grumble wordlessly, hunch my shoulders, and keep walking.
It's not long after that that the first leg of my journey comes to an end. It has taken me too damn long to reach this point, but after enough pestering on my part and a surprising number of helpful strangers, I've finally found it: the Loki Familia's estate, the ostentatiously named Twilight Manor.
I squint up at the opulent mansion from under my hoodie. Beyond the polished bronze gate manned by a pair of halberd-wielding guards lay clean white stone walls and many towers stretching into the skyline. The place looks like a castle fit for a queen to call home. Which makes sense, I suppose, considering Loki is a goddess, and her Familia are all adoptive demigods.
No, I didn't stutter. Goddess, not god, here. And I'm… fairly certain that she hasn't ever fucked a horse. Could be wrong, though, about both of those things. The multiverse is funny like that. And reality ain't always gonna match up with what's depicted in my Japanese cartoons.
Really, the place would have been so much easier to find if I had had the foresight to find a good vantage point. As it was, I'd been stuck wandering in the winding city streets, surrounded by markedly primitive yet well-made buildings and rubbing shoulders with teeming crowds of several different races. The most important city in this world is a pretty popular place. Who'da thunk it?
Silver linings. All the walking I'd done has given me plenty of the sunlight and fresh air I needed—and more importantly, time to get my thoughts in order, tumultuous as they are. I still only have the vaguest beginnings of a plan moving forward, and the first step to that plan lies behind that gate.
Closing my eyes, I take in a deep breath, let it out, and open them once more, firming my resolve and marching up to the gate guards. They take note of me as I approach. The clothing trends of this world are wild, eclectic, colorful, and quite skimpy in places, to say the very least, but I can't help but feel like my modern clothes stand out nonetheless. Haven't seen blue jeans and a hoodie like mine so far.
I come to a halt a respectful distance away. The guards, both human, don't seem volatile or temperamental—just bored yet attentive, matching expressions much like the one I myself had worn on watch. I'll have to hope that holds. My plans could be put on hold for hours more if they decided to be dicks. I could definitely wait that long, but it would be a big pain in the ass. I really didn't want to still be homeless come sundown.
"State your business," the guard on the left declares, his hand momentarily tightening around the halberd he carried. Its butt is still planted on the ground, but I can see the implied threat for what it was. No funny business.
"I'm here to speak to Loki," I say, keeping my hands loose at my side, hovering a few inches away from the silver cylinder and the abnormal pistol clipped to my belt. If things somehow go catastrophically wrong and he attacks me, I'm pretty sure I could cut him down. Naturally, if that happens, I am going to be very dead in short order.
"We're not recruiting, newbie. Get lost."
"I know that." I didn't, actually, but they don't need to know that. "While being part of the Loki Familia would be nice, it's not what I'm here for." Also a lie; all I need to do is talk to the goddess, and I'm as good as recruited. The gods here just can't help themselves when it comes to new and exciting stuff. And I'd say I definitely count as such. "It's more a matter of business than anything else."
"Izzat so, huh?" The second guard leans on his weapon, smirking. "Our goddess hates having her time wasted, you know. I'd just hate to have to throw you out."
Doubtful.
"Sir, I can guarantee you Loki will be interested in hearing what I have to say," I say, truthfully this time. "I'm willing to wait as long as I need to. I only ask that you let her know a magician with weird magic is willing to do business with her."
The two guards exchange a look. The first guard jerks his head towards me, and the second shrugs. Then they both look back at me, silent conversation concluded. I blink placidly.
"Fine. Sit tight. Ya got a name to pass on?"
I shake my head, inwardly relieved. "She wouldn't know me. But it's-
Esshai.
"-Matthew."
I bury the flinch as best I can, and trudge off to the side to take a seat on a nearby bench as the second guard unlocks and slips through the gate. My head bows as I press my lips against my laced fingers, my elbows resting on my knees. I'm glad for my hood, then. I don't want to look at other people.
My name is Matthew. Not Esshai. I am not him, and he is not me. No matter the fact that his memories and powers are mine, no matter the fact that I'll only be getting more and more of them as time goes on.
I am Matthew. A lazy NEET in way over his head. Not… anyone else.
I close my eyes and just breathe. Breathe and wait.
A mixed blessing, having time to think about my problems. Lately, my go-to method of dealing with my problems has consisted of getting drunk, playing video games until the wee hours of the morn' until my eyeballs are dry and bloodshot, and generally not dealing with my problems.
Here, I have no home, no money, no booze, no video games, and my problems are considerably more dire than petty first world mid-twenties angst.
Obviously, that bad habit of mine can't go on.
I need help. Mental, physical, financial… spiritual; you name it, I need it. And the people that could get me at least some of that help were beyond that gate.
Knowing without a shadow of a doubt that someone, somewhere, wants me--me in particular—dead… It changes things. Puts things into perspective.
It's not all bad, really. At least it proves that I still have a will to live, seeing as how I'm not willing to just lie down and let it happen. My teeth clench and my knuckles whiten at the very thought. All of infinity lay before my feet, as well as all the time in the world to explore it. I'd be damned if I just let that go without a fight.
But after the momentary burst of resolve passes, my shoulders sag slightly. I've definitely got an uphill battle ahead of me, though. I am nothing in comparison to my hunter.
Or, more immediately, to the people living in that mansion. I look back up at it, only to see the second guard come stepping out the front door at a brisk pace. I stand up and brush myself off. There's not much I can do to disguise the fact that I'd spent the last couple hours trekking around the city and sweating my ass off, but I don't exactly have my Sunday Best ready for a meeting with a goddess. Bah.
-.-.-.-
In case the opulent mansion wasn't enough of a hint, the interior clinches it: the Loki Familia is rich--filthy stinkin' rich, even--and proud of it. Decades of adventuring having paid off quite nicely.
The guard leads me through the mansion's corridors, and almost every inch of them is covered in examples of that wealth. Soft, clean, colorful carpets, oil paintings depicting epic struggles between heroes and monsters--and I think I recognize some of the figures in them.
Here, the tanned feminine figures dressed in the attire of exotic dancers dueling minotaurs could only be the Hiryute twins. There, a portrait of a heartbreakingly beautiful elf woman with green hair in calm repose; Princess Riveria.
If things went well, my ugly mug would be joining them.
There were others, too, but I don't have the luxury of admiring them in detail. The guard's stride is long, and I'm not going to risk being left alone and unattended in the home of the second most powerful Familia in the world. That way trouble lies. So I keep pace behind him like a good, polite little guest.
Eventually, we come to a sturdy-looking wooden door, and my escort pounds on it.
"Goddess!" he all but shouts. "Your guest is here!"
"Send him in, why don'tcha?" comes the muffled reply.
The guard goes to open the door, but pauses with his hand on the handle, and glances back at me. "Best behavior, now."
"Of course."
Time to face the music.
Entering, I cast a quick glance around the room, but find the majority of my focus drawn to Loki. The goddess.
Intellectually, due to my bizarre source of knowledge, I already know that she is a goddess. But seeing a goddess in the flesh is another matter entirely.
You look at a book and think, that's a book. You look at a dog and think, that's a dog. Past experiences and learned knowledge shaping your observations.
I have no past experiences to draw on here, but the effect is pretty much the same. I look at the woman lazily reclining on some kind of half-couch, frothy mug of drink in hand, and think, that's a goddess. Something known on a level beyond the intellectual. An unmistakable… presence, so to say.
The temptation to truly open my eyes and see the truth of what lies beneath is strong. But I don't. Not just yet.
The goddess, who looks like a short redhead with no tits and with an outfit consisting of hotpants, stockings, gogo boots, a tube top, and just the sleeves for a sweater (without the rest of the sweater and separate from the tube top), could easily be mistaken for a very pretty guy. Especially with that ab definition.
Very, very nice ab definition… Does she cheat using divine power, or does she actually work for those? Either way...
I blink slowly, and purse my lips. Don't stare. Or lick your lips like she's a cut of meat.
Her eyes. Stare at her eyes!
Which are still closed. Off-putting, but I suppose that's the point. Loki is a wily woman, very much still a trickster goddess at heart. I need to be cautious around her.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Loki," I say at last, after an awkward moment of empty silence.
And that gets her to crack open one ruby red eye. Her, dare I say it, vulpine grin grows.
"I get that yer bein' polite and all, but I gotta say, starting off negotiations with anything less than the whole truth is poor form." She clicks her tongue disapprovingly, but her smile remains.
I gulp. I'd only half-remembered that the gods of this world were living lie detectors; hadn't anticipated it triggering over as banal a statement as a greeting.
Not unrecoverable, though. "Ah. In that case, my apologies. A better phrasing would be…" I take a moment to look for the words. Find them. "It's very interesting to meet you, Loki. I've never met a goddess before, and I'm more than a little intimidated."
She barks a laugh. "Hah! Better, though that's a little too honest, now. You should work on that."
In spite of myself, I can't help but smile ruefully, and a huff of amusement escapes me. A trickster, but not an out and out malicious one, as I recall. Certainly not to those she calls her own, which I hope to be soon.
So long as you aren't in their firing line, those types can be fun.
"I'll be sure to do so." I try to relax a bit, and glance over at the empty chair facing her. "May I sit?"
Loki waves with her free hand. "I'll allow it."
So I take a seat. Try and consider my plan of attack. But ultimately? With someone like Loki? Having no plan and adapting quickly was probably a better idea.
"So, Matthew the magician with weird magic, what business do you got for me?" Loki purrs, swishing the contents of her mug before taking a pull from it. Reminds me how thirsty I am.
Straight to the point. I can handle that.
"I'd like to hire the Loki Familia," I say, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees and my hands loosely laced between them.
"Ohhh? What for?"
Here goes. Everything rests on this.
"Protection," I say simply, still smiling a small smile, but I'd like to think that my eyes bely it. I have a bad habit of smiling when I'm upset. Should probably kick it.
Just like that, I finally manage to get Loki to open both eyes. Yay. "Hmmm… Interesting. Don't think anyone's hired us for bodyguard duty before. Must be some real scary guy if you're comin' to us for help. Our services ain't gonna be cheap, ya know?"
Her red eyes glint with amusement. I try not to let any sour feelings in over it. The gods had descended to the mortal realm for entertainment, after all. And absent any personal stake in the matter, I suppose my problem would certainly qualify as dramatic and exciting enough for their tastes.
I nod. "There's a bit of a story attached, if you've got time to hear it…"
"I got nothin' better to do. For now. Tell me yer story, scruffy. Ah- Tch."
The goddess clicks her tongue, suddenly seeming peeved. "If this is familia business, then I guess I have to get the familia involved. One sec. FINN!" she shouts suddenly, and I jerk in place. "OI, FIIIIINN! Get yer lazy butt in here!"
A reasonable step. I wrack my brain for knowledge of the name. Finn Deimne, the Braver.
At least, that's what I think his title is. Not sure why he's called that, to be honest. The Braver, not the Brave or the Bravest. This is a real world, full of all the little imperfections that make a living world, that make life life, not just a decent harem rom-com shounen anime. I have to treat it as such. So that means that there's a reason that he's called The Braver, besides a mangaka making cool Engrish names for the main cast. And… Lacking greater context or cultural knowledge, the only theory I have is that the gods are a bunch of careless weirdoes, and the nicknames they give their mortal servants reflects this.
That tangent aside… He's the captain of the Loki Familia. Loki obviously trusts him enough to say he's in charge of running the damn thing. Her first adopted child, if I recall correctly. So in addition to her, he's someone I have to convince to let join his familia.
Convince one, and I'd convince the other. Hopefully.
I absently twiddle my thumbs and wait as Loki takes another drink. My knee bounces with nervous energy until I notice it and quell it.
Thankfully, we don't have to wait long, only for a minute or two. Had he already been close by, or had he used the blistering speed of a first-class adventurer to arrive quickly? My head swivels sharply to look back at the door I came in from. A few short seconds later, and it opens, and a small blond waif of a lad steps in.
Appearances can be deceiving. He's actually closer to forty years old. Whether it's his pallum heritage at work, or the divine blessing he wears on his back, he's aged utterly unfairly well. Doesn't look a day over twelve, maybe thirteen. I had baby brothers bigger than him, and he had more power in his pinky finger than my entire extended family did in their whole bodies. He was unarmed and dressed only in loose and comfortable clothes colored purple and yellow rather than armor, but this is his home, so that makes sense.
"You called, Loki?" the boy—the man, I corrected, asks calmly, his voice youthful. He seems to be the spitting image of relaxation. His blue eyes fall on me, and his head tilts in polite curiosity.
She waves him over, and he hops up to sit on the arm of her couch. Her head nuzzles against his thigh with obvious affection; kinda like a cat.
"Yup," she replies, popping the p. "Boyo here wants to hire us to be his bodyguards. Figured he'd only wanna tell the story once."
"Mighty kind of ya," I say, nodding my head in consideration. My eyes close as I steel myself.
It all happened so fast. But it was no less traumatizing for it.
"You've already confirmed for me the fact that gods can detect lies," I begin. "That makes this easier for me."
No backing out. No bullshitting them.
"To the best of my knowledge, I am not crazy, delusional, or insane-" I begin.
"Oooh, this should be good," Loki pipes up, an eager grin on her face—to which Finn sighs in exasperation and lightly karate chops the top of her head.
"Owie!"
"Be nice, Loki," he rebukes her. "Let him tell his story."
The chastised goddess mulishly nursed her drink, glowering. If I was in a better mood, I might have laughed. But honestly? On one of the most stressful days in my life? Loki's attitude kind of pissed me off.
Irrelevant. Keep talking, before your throat closes up.
"…Like I was saying. Not crazy. Please keep that in mind, cuz a lot of what I'm about to say is going to sound very…outlandish, at the very least. But believe me when I say that everything I am about to tell you is true to the best of my knowledge.
Seven seconds in, seven seconds out. My fingers drum across my knee thrice more, and go still.
"Let's get the big one out of the way first." I stare directly into Loki's eyes, my expression sober. "I am not from this world. Not this city, not this continent, not this planet—not this plane of existence."
It takes a second for the words to sink in, but when they do, Loki seems to forget her disgruntlement as her eyes go wide.
Good. I really would love it if she quit joking around.
"In my world, there is no dungeon," I continue, keeping my voice level. "There are no other sapient races besides humans. And if gods actually exist there? Then they either haven't descended, or they have and are being very, very, very quiet about the fact that they exist, and keeping their existence a secret for whatever reason—and secrets are increasingly hard to keep in my world."
Finn's eyebrows had steadily climbed as I spoke, and he shoots a glance at his goddess. Loki gives a small nod, and slowly sits up straight and leans forward, elbows on her knees. The expression on her face is one of keen interest, or I'd eat my belt.
"Less than a day ago, I was a nobody. Not a special thing about me. A jobless, out of shape civilian of no status. Less than a day ago."
My motions are deliberate as I pull up my sleeves one at a time, exposing pale and skinny forearms.
Huh. The scar on my wrist from that time I'd spilled molten pizza on my arm is gone. I never thought I'd miss it, but I do, strangely.
"Nothing in my hands. Nothing up my sleeves."
A couple years ago, I'd had this bad dream—not scary enough to call it a nightmare. Just depressing. In it, I'd soared through the sky like a bird, light and happy and joyful and free. But the moment I went to show my family, the power was gone, no matter how hard I jumped. Stuck on the ground like the rest of humanity, looking like a crazy idiot.
It is an irrational fear, I know. That the same thing will happen here. Obviously, magic isn't real, and I'm a delusional fool for thinking otherwise, and I'm gonna wake up at any second.
It hadn't been real, anyway.
I cup my hands, and in them, unnatural blue light gleams, reflected in the eyes of my hosts as I casually break thermodynamics over my knee.
I let out a breath of relief. It's real. It's really really real. I can feel it coursing through my veins, I can feel it in the presence of knowledge spanning centuries in my mind. I can feel its weight in my palms—the weight of a blue magic crystal the size of two knuckles. Without conscious input from me, it had grown into a mesmerizingly beautiful flower. I remembered making many baubles just like it, using them as trinkets, calling cards, and paperweights. Esshai did.
"And now, after a strange man fell from a portal and landed at my feet, and blasted me with a ray of light with his dying breath… I have magic. I am a wizard. And if the memories that accompanied that light are anything to go by, I'm gonna be a damned powerful one."
My gaze rises from the glimmering rock in my hands. Slowly, my neck turns to gravely stare each of my silent hosts in the eyes.
"Which brings me to why I'm here. I need you to protect me from the monster that killed a much older, more experienced, and much more powerful wizard, and is now hunting me across the multiverse."
Flight of the Traveler, Ch 2
Lazurman
This is fine.
- Location
- Classified
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Flight of the Traveler
Chapter 2
To his credit, it doesn't take long at all for Finn to recover his cool from my dramatic statement. The captain of the Loki Familia presses his lips together and gets straight to the point. "What kind of monster exactly? How dangerous is it, what can it do? And how would you compensate us for our protection?" he asks, his expression neutral and unreadable.
Right. Too much to ask for him to put his and his familia's lives on the line for no benefit. They aren't selfless heroes, at least outside the heat of the moment. Still stings a bit.
Just… Need to treat it like a job interview. That's what I'm really pushing for. Membership in the familia, instead of just a protection detail. I want the benefits of the falna, the blessing of the gods in tattoo form. A blessing that grows with me, empowering me based on my own deeds, making me better at what I choose to do. A rather personally-attuned power–albeit one that was dependent on the god doing the blessing remaining in the same world as their adherents.
Hmm…
Focus.
Gently, the crystal flower floats upward from my palm and drifts down to the table before us. Loki wastes no time in plucking it up and holding it to the light of the lantern illuminating the room.
Telekinesis. The act of moving a thing from a place to another place without physically touching it. A parlor trick.
"There'd be no point in me telling you about its capabilities if you don't think what I have to offer might be worth it," I point out. Not to mention, telling them about that thing would also mean doing something I'd been putting off doing. Thinking really hard about how I- how Esshai…died. I swallow. "So I'll start with that. The easy part."
I point at the crystal in Loki's fingers. "With nothing but a little bit of time and focus, I can generate any crystal structure I've studied before, whether it be precious gems like rubies and diamonds, or solid, crystallized magic like that rock right there." I could see Loki mouthing the words, 'crystallized magic' as I spoke them. "As well as altering their material properties to make them more useful; stronger, lighter, more conductive, stuff like that. Gimme a bit, and I could have you swimming in any amount of material wealth."
More wealth than I could have dreamed of producing a day prior. Funny how problems like rent look so small now.
Hmph. There really might just be something to my world's obsession with crystals. According to Esshai's memories, their pattern repeats across countless realities as foci and sources of power. At least I can actually make use of them in ways far beyond turning my steering wheel into a Claymore mine like the typical hippy does.
"And if monetary restitution isn't enough, I also have powerful healing magic." I gesture to myself. "It takes the form of a permanent enchantment applied to my body that drastically increases natural healing. While it can regrow lost limbs, that level of regeneration would take months for the process to finish. But if I can get the pieces together, I can reattach them without much issue. Basically, so long as my heart and my brain are intact, I have pretty good chances of surviving otherwise fatal injuries."
A rather ingenious little enchantment, really. It would help keep my blood inside me even with gaping wounds.
It's also what kept me going after hours of searching Orario without rest. It promises all kinds of benefits when it comes to exercise and getting my fat ass back into shape, but, like many things coursing through my mind, it was an idea for later.
"And by touching someone else, I can choose to apply this healing effect to them instead of myself," I say in conclusion. Conclusion for that particular spell, anyway. Jesus, I'm barely able to imagine having phenomenal cosmic power in the first place, and now I have almost too damn many expressions of it to think about.
But there's only a couple more things I could offer up as tangible payment. This one's probably the most valuable one of all. And the riskiest.
Taking a deep breath, I continue. "For another service I can offer you, I have the innate ability to travel to different worlds than this one, and to take passengers with me…"
Finn holds up a hand to forestall further words, and I obligingly shut my trap, taking the opportunity to swallow the lump in my throat. He hums in consideration, and asks a question I'm sure has been on both his and Loki's minds since I first mentioned it.
"You've mentioned that before. Other worlds. A…multiverse. What does that mean, exactly?"
I rest my chin on my knuckles as my lips twist. "Bear in mind, all I know about this is either theory," learned from a lifetime of reading books and fanfics and watching movies and TV shows, "or what little I've gleaned from the memories of the wizard so far. I haven't…" I grimace. "...had the time to properly assimilate it all. The vast majority of this stuff is disjointed, blurry. But here goes."
I'm lucky enough to have had this exact kind of conversation with myself when workshopping for stories I'd once planned to write. Stories that…I don't think I'd be updating any time soon.
How long would it take for my sister to realize I was gone? My cat? My cabal of horny internet buddies?
I inhale sharply, and blink away that train of thought.
Esshai's memories lend it further structure. Hard facts.
My eyes go unfocused as I slip further into those memories. I speak softly. "Everything around us–everything that you can possibly see, touch, experience…every place you can potentially travel to, and every place you can't survive traveling to–all of it, is the universe. The sum of every country, every continent, every planet, every star, every last little mote of, of stuff." I gesticulate with my hands. "That is your universe. Your 'world.'
"This right here is one world," I say, tapping my foot on the floor for emphasis. "Not having been there yet, I can only theorize that the realm of the gods is another, closely related realm, like most afterlives are. But, beyond your world lies other worlds, kept separate from your own by walls you can't see or touch."
I'm very aware of how Loki's eyes have snapped away from the gem to me. Uncomfortably so.
My hand splays flat and the skin of my palm whitens as if I'm pressing it against something–which I am. I don't need to open my Sight to sense it. It's a part of me. Something more vital than my eyes, ears, or any other sense, that I need to learn how to use.
Something undefinable cracks as I press.
"Walls that the wizard, and now I, can see, breach…and step through."
I let the hand drop without tearing open the fabric of reality. "It's how I got here. An uncontrolled, panicked burst of magic that kicked me out of my own world and shot me across the multiverse–that is, the collective term for all universes. I landed in an alleyway in Orario. Which leads us to the here and now."
Finn eyes me shrewdly, humming to himself. "If this is your first time here, in our world, how did you know to look for us?"
"Yeah," Loki chimes in. "Not that we're not flattered, and we are! But while it pains my tender heart to downplay ourselves, we're not the most powerful familia in Orario. Yet, anyway. So why us?"
And here's the part that's going to have me questioning existence and my place in it for a good long time: the fact that I know them as characters from a TV show I've watched; a manga I've never read. Stories.
The typical self-inserts I used to read about would have their protagonists try to downplay the weirdness, or lie about their origins and source of knowledge. But even if I could lie to Loki, the goddess of trickery and mischief herself, I am ill-inclined to do so. I want to stand out and be valuable to her. It's the only path I can see.
I open my mouth to explain–only to hesitate.
My predilections for uncomplicated honesty aside, this… This is a bargaining chip I can use.
"That," I say slowly, "is closely tied with the final thing I can offer you as payment. Knowledge of the future. Your future."
Finn looks to his goddess at that, and she leans forward in her seat.
"You're sweetenin' the pot with every word, boyo." Loki's eyes are intimidatingly narrowed over her smile, her words carrying a faint tone of warning. "The gift of prophecy is a pretty rare one. That alone is worth quite a lot, and you got a lot more in store, I can tell. I'd have to be a real big fool to let a prize like you go—and nobody accuses ol' Loki of being a fool.
"So," she says, locking eyes with me. "Why don't you tell us about the big bad monster yer so scared will scare us off?"
…Of course she can glean that. This woman, this being, is older than my country. She's the goddess of trickery, and can probably read me like an open book. I close my eyes, and bow my head. My shoulders are tense, and I can feel my eyes watering behind my eyelids.
"...It. Is. A monster," I say, as clearly as I can. "Made all the more scary by also being a person."
Slowly, my hand raises. Power gathers, ever circulating within me with every beat of my heart; now put to use. I snap my fingers–once again finding myself unconsciously mimicking the mnemonics Esshai used for controlling his spells–and without looking, light warps beside me into a shape, one indelibly seared into my mind forevermore:
A tall humanoid figure clad in a black robe over intricately-crafted armor, its hood, normally preternaturally shadowed, blown off and dangling about its neck. The clearest look Esshai got of it. In its left, gloved hand, a sword with a pitch black blade dripping with venom is brandished. The other hand is something altogether more monstrous, asymmetrical and bulging with swelling muscle and bent in unnatural, inhuman ways, frozen mid-swipe as it claws at the viewer with vicious hooked talons; its flesh warped to better maim and grasp.
Worst of all was its face. Bulbous black eyeballs each the size of my fist sit in sockets barely big enough to house them, unnerving pinpricks of pale light gleaming in them. Beneath them juts a beak painted red with gore, easily a foot long and curving downwards to a tapering point. The exterior of it is cruelly serrated and jagged; purpose built and sculpted to better rip and tear with every bite. The neck supporting it is deceptively thin and frail, and much, much longer than it first appears.
Altogether, it brings to mind some horrible conjoining of bird and insect, dressed like some wealthy assassin from a fantasy movie.
These are some of Esshai's strongest, most immediate memories, pregnant with shock and desperate terror. I just know that these memories are going to stick with me until the day I die, however close or far away that day is.
"The first sign the wizard had that anything was wrong was just a sudden, sharp gut feeling. Battle instincts centuries in the honing, screaming. But it was already too late. It was fast, fast enough to be a blur for most of the battle. Its first blow took his right arm clean off from behind, and his staff with it."
I let out an aborted scream, and an automatic wave of telekinetic force strong enough to shatter a castle erupts from my skin in all directions.
I grip my knees and continue speaking.
"The wizard's first move after retaliating was to flee to an adjacent reality, a move he'd had plenty of practice in that no normal opponent could ever possibly overcome. He had ten seconds before it was upon him again."
My eyes blaze with rainbow light, wide and stunned, searching for something, glaring at nothing as I clutch at the oozing stump–before one is plucked out by that infernal serrated beak lunging through a tear in reality accompanied by a sound reminiscent of shattering glass.
With every memory I dredge up, the magical hologram beside me morphs to match it. A silent collage of stills depicted in vivid color.
Bit by bit, I work my way through the memories sure to keep me awake at night for the sake of my audience. An audience I can't find the will to open my eyes and look at for the moment.
Eventually, the tale comes to a conclusion.
"Esshai…did not die easily. Or quickly."
Mystic wards protecting it FINALLY unravel by my will, and my remaining fist crashes into the monster's abdomen, and something hard crunches beneath force both physical and magical, my reward a grimly satisfying wail of pain. The monster looked much the worse for wear, its fine and supple leather armor torn and burned away in places to reveal a battered exoskeleton.
"But he did die, in the end."
It had been a duel that both terrified me and awed me in equal turn just thinking about it. Esshai wasn't the most powerful wizard I'd seen in movies or read about in stories, but he was powerful. Far more powerful than I'd believed a human was capable of being outside of fiction, less than a day ago. And in the end, it hadn't been enough.
In the end, it had not been enough.
Looking down to see my heart pierced by that cold, cold black blade. Venom courses through my veins as I slowly look up, and see those horrid beady eyes staring into my own in sick triumph. That was the moment I realized that this was it. The moment I'd done my best to put off and flee from for nigh on seven centuries of life.
The end of the line.
I just can't stop the quivering in my chest, the spasming of my hand as I fail to keep it from touching the spot on my chest my brain was telling me was a gaping ruin.
The energy in me gives way to something bleak. "In summary, the perfect ambush predator. It's able to pick and choose any engagement it wants, it's invisible and nigh undetectable until it strikes, it's able to retreat at any time if pressed. It's super strong, super fast, able to change size and shape at will, wielding a venomous sword that can cut through physical and magical defenses like nothing."
I finally open my eyes to see a hard-eyed Finn and an unsmiling Loki staring at me.
"That is what is hunting me. That is what I want you to protect me from."
The silence that follows makes my insides quiver with dread.
Chapter 2
To his credit, it doesn't take long at all for Finn to recover his cool from my dramatic statement. The captain of the Loki Familia presses his lips together and gets straight to the point. "What kind of monster exactly? How dangerous is it, what can it do? And how would you compensate us for our protection?" he asks, his expression neutral and unreadable.
Right. Too much to ask for him to put his and his familia's lives on the line for no benefit. They aren't selfless heroes, at least outside the heat of the moment. Still stings a bit.
Just… Need to treat it like a job interview. That's what I'm really pushing for. Membership in the familia, instead of just a protection detail. I want the benefits of the falna, the blessing of the gods in tattoo form. A blessing that grows with me, empowering me based on my own deeds, making me better at what I choose to do. A rather personally-attuned power–albeit one that was dependent on the god doing the blessing remaining in the same world as their adherents.
Hmm…
Focus.
Gently, the crystal flower floats upward from my palm and drifts down to the table before us. Loki wastes no time in plucking it up and holding it to the light of the lantern illuminating the room.
Telekinesis. The act of moving a thing from a place to another place without physically touching it. A parlor trick.
"There'd be no point in me telling you about its capabilities if you don't think what I have to offer might be worth it," I point out. Not to mention, telling them about that thing would also mean doing something I'd been putting off doing. Thinking really hard about how I- how Esshai…died. I swallow. "So I'll start with that. The easy part."
I point at the crystal in Loki's fingers. "With nothing but a little bit of time and focus, I can generate any crystal structure I've studied before, whether it be precious gems like rubies and diamonds, or solid, crystallized magic like that rock right there." I could see Loki mouthing the words, 'crystallized magic' as I spoke them. "As well as altering their material properties to make them more useful; stronger, lighter, more conductive, stuff like that. Gimme a bit, and I could have you swimming in any amount of material wealth."
More wealth than I could have dreamed of producing a day prior. Funny how problems like rent look so small now.
Hmph. There really might just be something to my world's obsession with crystals. According to Esshai's memories, their pattern repeats across countless realities as foci and sources of power. At least I can actually make use of them in ways far beyond turning my steering wheel into a Claymore mine like the typical hippy does.
"And if monetary restitution isn't enough, I also have powerful healing magic." I gesture to myself. "It takes the form of a permanent enchantment applied to my body that drastically increases natural healing. While it can regrow lost limbs, that level of regeneration would take months for the process to finish. But if I can get the pieces together, I can reattach them without much issue. Basically, so long as my heart and my brain are intact, I have pretty good chances of surviving otherwise fatal injuries."
A rather ingenious little enchantment, really. It would help keep my blood inside me even with gaping wounds.
It's also what kept me going after hours of searching Orario without rest. It promises all kinds of benefits when it comes to exercise and getting my fat ass back into shape, but, like many things coursing through my mind, it was an idea for later.
"And by touching someone else, I can choose to apply this healing effect to them instead of myself," I say in conclusion. Conclusion for that particular spell, anyway. Jesus, I'm barely able to imagine having phenomenal cosmic power in the first place, and now I have almost too damn many expressions of it to think about.
But there's only a couple more things I could offer up as tangible payment. This one's probably the most valuable one of all. And the riskiest.
Taking a deep breath, I continue. "For another service I can offer you, I have the innate ability to travel to different worlds than this one, and to take passengers with me…"
Finn holds up a hand to forestall further words, and I obligingly shut my trap, taking the opportunity to swallow the lump in my throat. He hums in consideration, and asks a question I'm sure has been on both his and Loki's minds since I first mentioned it.
"You've mentioned that before. Other worlds. A…multiverse. What does that mean, exactly?"
I rest my chin on my knuckles as my lips twist. "Bear in mind, all I know about this is either theory," learned from a lifetime of reading books and fanfics and watching movies and TV shows, "or what little I've gleaned from the memories of the wizard so far. I haven't…" I grimace. "...had the time to properly assimilate it all. The vast majority of this stuff is disjointed, blurry. But here goes."
I'm lucky enough to have had this exact kind of conversation with myself when workshopping for stories I'd once planned to write. Stories that…I don't think I'd be updating any time soon.
How long would it take for my sister to realize I was gone? My cat? My cabal of horny internet buddies?
I inhale sharply, and blink away that train of thought.
Esshai's memories lend it further structure. Hard facts.
My eyes go unfocused as I slip further into those memories. I speak softly. "Everything around us–everything that you can possibly see, touch, experience…every place you can potentially travel to, and every place you can't survive traveling to–all of it, is the universe. The sum of every country, every continent, every planet, every star, every last little mote of, of stuff." I gesticulate with my hands. "That is your universe. Your 'world.'
"This right here is one world," I say, tapping my foot on the floor for emphasis. "Not having been there yet, I can only theorize that the realm of the gods is another, closely related realm, like most afterlives are. But, beyond your world lies other worlds, kept separate from your own by walls you can't see or touch."
I'm very aware of how Loki's eyes have snapped away from the gem to me. Uncomfortably so.
My hand splays flat and the skin of my palm whitens as if I'm pressing it against something–which I am. I don't need to open my Sight to sense it. It's a part of me. Something more vital than my eyes, ears, or any other sense, that I need to learn how to use.
Something undefinable cracks as I press.
"Walls that the wizard, and now I, can see, breach…and step through."
I let the hand drop without tearing open the fabric of reality. "It's how I got here. An uncontrolled, panicked burst of magic that kicked me out of my own world and shot me across the multiverse–that is, the collective term for all universes. I landed in an alleyway in Orario. Which leads us to the here and now."
Finn eyes me shrewdly, humming to himself. "If this is your first time here, in our world, how did you know to look for us?"
"Yeah," Loki chimes in. "Not that we're not flattered, and we are! But while it pains my tender heart to downplay ourselves, we're not the most powerful familia in Orario. Yet, anyway. So why us?"
And here's the part that's going to have me questioning existence and my place in it for a good long time: the fact that I know them as characters from a TV show I've watched; a manga I've never read. Stories.
The typical self-inserts I used to read about would have their protagonists try to downplay the weirdness, or lie about their origins and source of knowledge. But even if I could lie to Loki, the goddess of trickery and mischief herself, I am ill-inclined to do so. I want to stand out and be valuable to her. It's the only path I can see.
I open my mouth to explain–only to hesitate.
My predilections for uncomplicated honesty aside, this… This is a bargaining chip I can use.
"That," I say slowly, "is closely tied with the final thing I can offer you as payment. Knowledge of the future. Your future."
Finn looks to his goddess at that, and she leans forward in her seat.
"You're sweetenin' the pot with every word, boyo." Loki's eyes are intimidatingly narrowed over her smile, her words carrying a faint tone of warning. "The gift of prophecy is a pretty rare one. That alone is worth quite a lot, and you got a lot more in store, I can tell. I'd have to be a real big fool to let a prize like you go—and nobody accuses ol' Loki of being a fool.
"So," she says, locking eyes with me. "Why don't you tell us about the big bad monster yer so scared will scare us off?"
…Of course she can glean that. This woman, this being, is older than my country. She's the goddess of trickery, and can probably read me like an open book. I close my eyes, and bow my head. My shoulders are tense, and I can feel my eyes watering behind my eyelids.
"...It. Is. A monster," I say, as clearly as I can. "Made all the more scary by also being a person."
Slowly, my hand raises. Power gathers, ever circulating within me with every beat of my heart; now put to use. I snap my fingers–once again finding myself unconsciously mimicking the mnemonics Esshai used for controlling his spells–and without looking, light warps beside me into a shape, one indelibly seared into my mind forevermore:
A tall humanoid figure clad in a black robe over intricately-crafted armor, its hood, normally preternaturally shadowed, blown off and dangling about its neck. The clearest look Esshai got of it. In its left, gloved hand, a sword with a pitch black blade dripping with venom is brandished. The other hand is something altogether more monstrous, asymmetrical and bulging with swelling muscle and bent in unnatural, inhuman ways, frozen mid-swipe as it claws at the viewer with vicious hooked talons; its flesh warped to better maim and grasp.
Worst of all was its face. Bulbous black eyeballs each the size of my fist sit in sockets barely big enough to house them, unnerving pinpricks of pale light gleaming in them. Beneath them juts a beak painted red with gore, easily a foot long and curving downwards to a tapering point. The exterior of it is cruelly serrated and jagged; purpose built and sculpted to better rip and tear with every bite. The neck supporting it is deceptively thin and frail, and much, much longer than it first appears.
Altogether, it brings to mind some horrible conjoining of bird and insect, dressed like some wealthy assassin from a fantasy movie.
These are some of Esshai's strongest, most immediate memories, pregnant with shock and desperate terror. I just know that these memories are going to stick with me until the day I die, however close or far away that day is.
"The first sign the wizard had that anything was wrong was just a sudden, sharp gut feeling. Battle instincts centuries in the honing, screaming. But it was already too late. It was fast, fast enough to be a blur for most of the battle. Its first blow took his right arm clean off from behind, and his staff with it."
I let out an aborted scream, and an automatic wave of telekinetic force strong enough to shatter a castle erupts from my skin in all directions.
I grip my knees and continue speaking.
"The wizard's first move after retaliating was to flee to an adjacent reality, a move he'd had plenty of practice in that no normal opponent could ever possibly overcome. He had ten seconds before it was upon him again."
My eyes blaze with rainbow light, wide and stunned, searching for something, glaring at nothing as I clutch at the oozing stump–before one is plucked out by that infernal serrated beak lunging through a tear in reality accompanied by a sound reminiscent of shattering glass.
With every memory I dredge up, the magical hologram beside me morphs to match it. A silent collage of stills depicted in vivid color.
Bit by bit, I work my way through the memories sure to keep me awake at night for the sake of my audience. An audience I can't find the will to open my eyes and look at for the moment.
Eventually, the tale comes to a conclusion.
"Esshai…did not die easily. Or quickly."
Mystic wards protecting it FINALLY unravel by my will, and my remaining fist crashes into the monster's abdomen, and something hard crunches beneath force both physical and magical, my reward a grimly satisfying wail of pain. The monster looked much the worse for wear, its fine and supple leather armor torn and burned away in places to reveal a battered exoskeleton.
"But he did die, in the end."
It had been a duel that both terrified me and awed me in equal turn just thinking about it. Esshai wasn't the most powerful wizard I'd seen in movies or read about in stories, but he was powerful. Far more powerful than I'd believed a human was capable of being outside of fiction, less than a day ago. And in the end, it hadn't been enough.
In the end, it had not been enough.
Looking down to see my heart pierced by that cold, cold black blade. Venom courses through my veins as I slowly look up, and see those horrid beady eyes staring into my own in sick triumph. That was the moment I realized that this was it. The moment I'd done my best to put off and flee from for nigh on seven centuries of life.
The end of the line.
I just can't stop the quivering in my chest, the spasming of my hand as I fail to keep it from touching the spot on my chest my brain was telling me was a gaping ruin.
The energy in me gives way to something bleak. "In summary, the perfect ambush predator. It's able to pick and choose any engagement it wants, it's invisible and nigh undetectable until it strikes, it's able to retreat at any time if pressed. It's super strong, super fast, able to change size and shape at will, wielding a venomous sword that can cut through physical and magical defenses like nothing."
I finally open my eyes to see a hard-eyed Finn and an unsmiling Loki staring at me.
"That is what is hunting me. That is what I want you to protect me from."
The silence that follows makes my insides quiver with dread.
Spin the Semblance, Ch 1
Lazurman
This is fine.
- Location
- Classified
- Pronouns
- He/Him
AN: So, my lovely boyfriend @RexHeller has a bit of an addiction. Specifically to the fad called 'Wiki Warrior', a writing gimmick where a character in a story has the power to summon random people, places, and things from various fictional settings. And I won't lie: he's spread it to me, too.
Thus, this. Made as a collaborative work with Rex, behold Spin the Semblance: a story about one young Ruby Rose and her dangerously overpowered RNG-based Semblance.
Spin the Semblance
Chapter 1
"So uh… Hi, Mom. Wanted to visit you. Not much in the way of news. Yang got into Beacon, because of course she did. She's really excited but me and Dad weren't surprised. As for me, well, things are still mostly the same. Still…working hard. I…"
At this point the false cheer in Ruby's voice ran out. "I still haven't unlocked my Semblance. I know Dad and Yang and Uncle Qrow keep saying I'll get it eventually. Dad keeps talking about how he didn't get his until he was at Beacon but Yang got hers when she was thirteen and you got yours even earlier…! I just worry I'll never figure mine out."
The young girl scuffed at the snow with her boot. "I just wish I had a Semblance like yours. In all Dad's stories about you, he keeps telling me how cool your rose petals were. It'd be nice to have that in common with you."
To have anything that let her feel a little bit closer to her.
She let out a shaky breath. "I miss you," Ruby said plaintively. "I wish you were here. I wish you could tell me stories of your own."
Ruby's eyes burned, and she wiped at them with her sleeve. There was a reason she came alone to visit her mother's grave. She didn't want Dad or Yang to worry. "I think you'd be proud of me. I just wish you could be here to tell me that."
This was Ruby's time to let herself feel. Feel the pain of loss that had dulled, but never really gone away. To mourn the mother that never came home.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she exhaled. It was time. Straightening her back, she cast one last look at Summer Rose's gravestone.
Thus Kindly, I Scatter
"See you later, Mom."
Unfortunately, even when she didn't come with her family, there was always the chance she'd be interrupted anyway. The growls coming from behind her told her that her private moment was over. Turning around, she found a pack of beowolves slowly approaching and surrounding her.
She wasn't afraid. She was angry.
Monsters like these took her mother from her.
A determined expression settled on Ruby's face as she pulled Crescent Rose from where it rested on her back, the gigantic scythe blade unfolding with a series of metallic whirs and clacks.
This wouldn't bring her back. But these ones would never take anyone else's mother away.
Usually she was happy to test her skills, but with her time with her mother interrupted, she wasn't feeling particularly charitable to the beowolves in front of her. That was why she fired behind her, sending her flying forward and claiming the head of one the Grimm before the pack could even react.
Wincing, Ruby landed, skidding through the snow and whirling around in time to block another beowolf's claws with the blade of Crescent Rose. Her chosen fighting style was… unique to say the least. Strenuous to be accurate. She'd chosen the scythe to follow in her Uncle Qrow's footsteps but wielding such a large, heavy weapon had been difficult for the short, light girl when growing up. It had taken a lot of time, training, and exercise, but she'd made it work; she was stronger now.
Her weapon sang as it sheared another Grimm in half, the cumbersome blade twirling in her hands like a baton. Two more came at her from the front, so she brought the barrel about and jumped into the air, firing at the same time. One of them lost its head, and the other was left lunging at thin air as the recoil flung her back.
If she wanted to be able to move in combat and not be a sitting duck, her weapon needed to do the moving for her. But moving around the battlefield still involved using the recoil of her sniper-scythe and enduring the sudden acceleration.
Ruby wanted nothing more than to pull Crescent Rose's trigger again and again, sending her flying as she sliced the pack to ribbons. But even though she had the ammo for it (her entire belt was covered in .50 cal bullets) the strain on her body would wear her out. So she had to fight smarter, flipping over a lunge here, finding the right time to slice there. A scythe had advantages, spinning it could be a parry and an attack at the same time, but even then still, Ruby felt like something was missing. If only she could move faster…
Ruby worked in every trick she could. Shooting one beowolf while using the recoil to cut another in half. Using Crescent Rose's blade to spin around and carve apart their bodies to get into a better position. Even firing herself into the air to fire down on the pack. She was doing good, doing great. But the Grimm just kept coming. Ruby fired into the crowd and let the recoil carry her back to get some space to get some space, only to wince as she saw yet more Grimm coming out of the forest.
Ruby didn't bother with questioning it, too busy trying to catch her breath as she reloaded. She knew why they were here, drawn to the negative emotions she was pouring out. It didn't matter. No matter how many there were, she'd take them all down.
Ruby bent her knees, aiming Crescent Rose behind her, ready to enter the fray once more. Determination mixed with serenity as Ruby pictured pulling the trigger, drew on her Aura for strength, and-
Hhhmmmmm…
[Spring Spirit Summoning - Ruby gains Shenhe's elemental skill, summoning an ice spirit to either boost her speed and add ice to her attacks or send the spirit to attack targets on its own. Afterwards, Ruby and nearby allies gain a boost to ice attacks for a short period, making cold colder.]
"What…?"
She stumbled, staring at her hand. Her Aura…was glowing. A bright shade of red, that slowly dimmed back down to normal.
'What was that about?' she wondered.
Wait… Had she…
Excitement began to spark within her.
Something was different. A new feeling. She tugged at it, groping blindly with a sense she'd never used before, and a rectangular piece of paper with a symbol she didn't recognize appeared between her fingers. Almost looked a little bit like a squid, but she was pretty sure that wasn't it.
And it wasn't a piece of paper, it was just energy, Aura, in the shape of one, glowing a soft blue-white. Ruby stared in amazement for a second, the slip cool on her fingers, before it disappeared. Suddenly, that feeling of cold, not uncomfortable, just cool, surrounded her. It was comforting actually, almost like a hug.
And then she was rushing forward, being carried by the cold around her. The world blurred and it was only thanks to Ruby's experience with heavy acceleration that she brought Crescent Rose around in time to cut a beowolf in half, leaving the two halves covered in frost as they fell apart. But this was different from using recoil to throw herself in a direction. There was no pressure on her Aura, no strain on her body, just speed.
Then the shroud of cold left her, leaving a less intense feeling in its place as large, glowing snowflakes floated around her. It also left her in the middle of the pack, surrounded by beowolves that were about to pounce on her. Ruby tried to pull on that feeling again but nothing happened. "Uh oh."
Of course, Ruby wasn't defenseless and three of the Grimm in front of her were slashed apart mid-leap, but she was in a bad position and the moment of hesitation where her ice dash or whatever didn't work meant she couldn't fully dodge an attack from behind. Vicious claws dragging down her back, draining her aura, were Ruby's cue to get out of there the old fashioned way. Two more gunshots rang out in the snow covered clearing and Ruby was sent flying up, then away from the pack, getting her space once again.
Ruby breathed a sigh of relief before trying to puzzle things out. Again she tried to tug on that odd new feeling but all that happened was a flash of chill in her fingers. The feeling wasn't gone but it felt drained, almost like the times Ruby's Aura had been broken. Hopefully it filled back up like Aura did but unfortunately, live combat wasn't the best place for calm experimentation. As the beowolves charged again, Ruby had to focus on shooting them down. By the time the pack had reached her though, missing several members thanks to Ruby's excellent aim, Ruby noticed that the snowflakes fluttering around her were gone. Making a guess, she tried to ice dash again and this time it actually worked.
Ruby zoomed through the middle of the pack, Crescent Rose claiming several Beowolf necks, and when the dash ended, Ruby had broken through the other side of the pack. Throwing her hands in the air and letting out a celebratory whoop, Ruby noticed that the snowflakes were back, fluttering around her once again. "A cooldown indicator? Useful but… do Semblances normally work like that?"
Again, she didn't really have time to question it. The surviving members of the pack, by this point successfully whittled down from 'unending' to 'a bunch' whirled around, skidding in the snow and were quickly on Ruby again. Crescent Rose sang and barked as Ruby sliced and shot for another minute until the snowflakes disappeared again. With a grin, she maneuvered herself so that another ice dash would take her past the remaining Grimm, only for a thought to occur. Why did that talisman of Aura appear in her hand before the ice dash activated? Wouldn't it make more sense for her to just burst forward from the start? Following her hunch, this time she pulled out the slip of paper-like aura and threw it forward instead of holding onto it. And then she froze in place, her heart skipping a beat.
"Mom?" she breathed.
When Ruby saw the white cloak flying forward, she could only think of one thing. One impossible, unbelievable thing. But then the transparent figure slashed out with a giant scythe, not an ax, and Ruby's heart was crushed all over again. Of course. She'd heard of Semblances that could copy their users before. That's all this was. That's all it could ever be.
At least it was effective. The ice spirit or whatever Ruby was going to call it had burst forward and spun its copy of Crescent Rose in a circle, taking the remaining beowolves off-guard and dispatching them all in one fell swoop before disappearing.
It was good that the fight had finished, then; after what she thought she'd seen, her heart wasn't in it any more.
No. No, that was enough of that. Dad and Yang didn't need sad mopey Ruby. And she didn't need to attract more Grimm either.
Not that that was likely. Patch was pretty safe, given its popularity with huntsmen and huntresses that wanted to settle down. She'd probably culled the vast majority on the island just now.
Ruby took a deep breath, and let it out smoothly. She could walk home, then collapse in a bundle of confusion and joy and lingering grief into her own bed, rather than into the snow right now. Yes, good idea. She didn't want her tights getting wet and cold anyway, that would be bad.
She just needed something to keep her mind off things. Not her Semblance, even though it was super cool and she could do so many things with it and she couldn't wait to experiment and show off to Yang. It was just one or two links in the chain to thinking about Mom again. So, something else, like… Wait, before she unlocked her Semblance, hadn't her Aura glowed? And there was that humming, not quite a sound, more like she felt it in her bones or maybe her soul. Ruby remembered when Yang had unlocked her Semblance, nothing like that had happened back then, Yang's hair was suddenly on fire, no build up. So what, exactly, had Ruby done?
She'd drawn on her Aura for strength, nothing that special, but this time it just felt different somehow. What had she been thinking at the time? Nothing much, she hadn't really been thinking at all, just moving, breathing. Yang had mentioned that her body knew how to punch and duck on its own in a fight, a flow state Dad had called it.
Ruby remembered what it felt like, or at least she thought she did. Feeling curious as she walked home through the snow, she tried again to capture that feeling, between determination and serenity and she pulled on her Aura once again.
Hhhmmmmm…
[Kelly Chambers - Kelly Chambers has been summoned! Kelly served as Commander Shepard's yeoman on the Normandy SR-2, effectively a personal secretary/therapist. After being rescued from the Collectors, Kelly retired from the crew and deserted Cerberus. Kelly is a trained psychologist with a keen interest in helping people, but is lacking in combat skills.]
Ruby gasped as her Aura glowed around her, brighter than usual, and that humming built up inside of her. Then, all at once, the glow disappeared and the hum went away and suddenly a woman was standing in front of her.
"W-What? Where… What happened?!" The woman looked around in shock. She had short red hair and was wearing a set of brown suspenders that clung tightly to her body, and a pair of leather arm-sock thingies that left her shoulders bare. Ruby thought that the woman would look quite pretty if not for the clear stress on her face, making her look older.
Whoever she was, she was obviously bewildered. And Ruby wasn't any better.
"Huh?! Where the heck did you come from?" Ruby exclaimed.
"That's what I want to know!" The woman yelled. Ruby tried not to take offense, the lady was obviously panicking. "One moment I was on the Citadel, now I'm planetside! That… That's impossible, right?"
"Citadel? Is that some Atlas fortress somewhere?" Ruby asked, before pausing. "Wait. Back up a second. 'Planetside?' As in…not already on Remnant?" The redhead felt an excited grin begin to form on her face. "Oh my gosh am I talking to an alien right now? Are you an alien? This is so cool! What planet are you from? Why do you look human? What's it like in space?"
"I am human!" The woman snapped before pinching her brow and taking a deep breath. "Sorry, I just- Look, what'd you call this planet? Remnant? That's… mildly concerning. And I don't remember any colonies called that, although there are a lot out there; no one could remember all of them…"
As the woman trailed off into her thoughts, Ruby froze again as she had a very important realization.
This woman had appeared…right after Ruby had flexed her Aura.
Had…she done this? Was her Semblance not that ice dash, like she'd thought?
While Ruby was contemplating that worrying possibility, the woman seemed to have come to her own conclusion. Straightening up, she waved at Ruby to get her attention. "Right, I think I have some questions that need answers. But first, introductions. Hi, I'm Kelly Chambers, what about you?"
"Oh, uh, I'm Ruby Rose! Nice to meet you!" Ruby forced herself to smile and ignore that maybe she had possibly kidnapped someone from space. Maybe. She stuck her hand out to shake, all the same.
"Nice to meet you, Ruby." Kelly returned a smile of her own. "Now, can you tell me if you recognize any of these terms? Mass Effect? Systems Alliance? Citadel Council? Protheans? Asari? Turians?"
Ruby shook her head at each new word, and Kelly's friendly smile grew increasingly brittle. "Um, nope. Sorry."
Kelly let out a hollow laugh and looked like she might fall over, so Ruby leaped to her side to hold her hand and support her back. "Heh. Hahah… Teleported through space to land on an out of contact colony world," she mumbled. "Impossible. Just impossible. H-How am I going to get back…?"
Kelly's arms came up to hug herself, and she began shivering, whether it be from the cold of their snowy surroundings, or dread from the crappy situation, she didn't know.
Guilt and fear struck Ruby's heart like bullets. She couldn't have done this, right? She wasn't responsible for kidnapping, stranding, an innocent woman who was probably from space. Semblances just didn't have that kind of power, right? You couldn't reach across Remnant like that, let alone up into space! That was impossible, but…
But how else could Kelly have gotten here?
There was only one way to find out. And before she could think any better of it, Ruby tugged on her Aura again.
Hhhmmmmm…
[Plotmon (X-Antibody) - Plotmon has been summoned! A Holy-species Digimon at the child level, Plotmon is young, innocent and rather weak, although a hidden power slumbers deep within. Imbued with the X-Antibody, which strengthens Digimon and protects from deletion by viruses, this Plotmon is even cuter than usual and has extra holy power.]
This time, after the humming and the red glow died down, a small dog-like creature with an oversized golden collar around its neck appeared in the snow right at Ruby's feet. Ruby looked down at it and a breathless wheeze escaped from her lungs. It was absolutely, positively adorable, and yet, while her natural inclination was to fawn over it… The weight of what her Semblance was capable of hung over her like a cloud.
Because it was her. She had summoned Miss Chambers and this little puppy and probably her ice dash too, somehow.
And she had absolutely no idea how to get them back where they came from.
"...Ohhh, nooo…" Ruby whined, her hands slowly covering her mouth as she rocked in place, trying to get her panic under control.
"Hi! Are you a human?" The puppy asked with a happy smile, completely oblivious to the fact that puppies couldn't talk!
Ruby decided now was a good time to panic.
Thus, this. Made as a collaborative work with Rex, behold Spin the Semblance: a story about one young Ruby Rose and her dangerously overpowered RNG-based Semblance.
Spin the Semblance
Chapter 1
"So uh… Hi, Mom. Wanted to visit you. Not much in the way of news. Yang got into Beacon, because of course she did. She's really excited but me and Dad weren't surprised. As for me, well, things are still mostly the same. Still…working hard. I…"
At this point the false cheer in Ruby's voice ran out. "I still haven't unlocked my Semblance. I know Dad and Yang and Uncle Qrow keep saying I'll get it eventually. Dad keeps talking about how he didn't get his until he was at Beacon but Yang got hers when she was thirteen and you got yours even earlier…! I just worry I'll never figure mine out."
The young girl scuffed at the snow with her boot. "I just wish I had a Semblance like yours. In all Dad's stories about you, he keeps telling me how cool your rose petals were. It'd be nice to have that in common with you."
To have anything that let her feel a little bit closer to her.
She let out a shaky breath. "I miss you," Ruby said plaintively. "I wish you were here. I wish you could tell me stories of your own."
Ruby's eyes burned, and she wiped at them with her sleeve. There was a reason she came alone to visit her mother's grave. She didn't want Dad or Yang to worry. "I think you'd be proud of me. I just wish you could be here to tell me that."
This was Ruby's time to let herself feel. Feel the pain of loss that had dulled, but never really gone away. To mourn the mother that never came home.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she exhaled. It was time. Straightening her back, she cast one last look at Summer Rose's gravestone.
Thus Kindly, I Scatter
"See you later, Mom."
Unfortunately, even when she didn't come with her family, there was always the chance she'd be interrupted anyway. The growls coming from behind her told her that her private moment was over. Turning around, she found a pack of beowolves slowly approaching and surrounding her.
She wasn't afraid. She was angry.
Monsters like these took her mother from her.
A determined expression settled on Ruby's face as she pulled Crescent Rose from where it rested on her back, the gigantic scythe blade unfolding with a series of metallic whirs and clacks.
This wouldn't bring her back. But these ones would never take anyone else's mother away.
Usually she was happy to test her skills, but with her time with her mother interrupted, she wasn't feeling particularly charitable to the beowolves in front of her. That was why she fired behind her, sending her flying forward and claiming the head of one the Grimm before the pack could even react.
Wincing, Ruby landed, skidding through the snow and whirling around in time to block another beowolf's claws with the blade of Crescent Rose. Her chosen fighting style was… unique to say the least. Strenuous to be accurate. She'd chosen the scythe to follow in her Uncle Qrow's footsteps but wielding such a large, heavy weapon had been difficult for the short, light girl when growing up. It had taken a lot of time, training, and exercise, but she'd made it work; she was stronger now.
Her weapon sang as it sheared another Grimm in half, the cumbersome blade twirling in her hands like a baton. Two more came at her from the front, so she brought the barrel about and jumped into the air, firing at the same time. One of them lost its head, and the other was left lunging at thin air as the recoil flung her back.
If she wanted to be able to move in combat and not be a sitting duck, her weapon needed to do the moving for her. But moving around the battlefield still involved using the recoil of her sniper-scythe and enduring the sudden acceleration.
Ruby wanted nothing more than to pull Crescent Rose's trigger again and again, sending her flying as she sliced the pack to ribbons. But even though she had the ammo for it (her entire belt was covered in .50 cal bullets) the strain on her body would wear her out. So she had to fight smarter, flipping over a lunge here, finding the right time to slice there. A scythe had advantages, spinning it could be a parry and an attack at the same time, but even then still, Ruby felt like something was missing. If only she could move faster…
Ruby worked in every trick she could. Shooting one beowolf while using the recoil to cut another in half. Using Crescent Rose's blade to spin around and carve apart their bodies to get into a better position. Even firing herself into the air to fire down on the pack. She was doing good, doing great. But the Grimm just kept coming. Ruby fired into the crowd and let the recoil carry her back to get some space to get some space, only to wince as she saw yet more Grimm coming out of the forest.
Ruby didn't bother with questioning it, too busy trying to catch her breath as she reloaded. She knew why they were here, drawn to the negative emotions she was pouring out. It didn't matter. No matter how many there were, she'd take them all down.
Ruby bent her knees, aiming Crescent Rose behind her, ready to enter the fray once more. Determination mixed with serenity as Ruby pictured pulling the trigger, drew on her Aura for strength, and-
Hhhmmmmm…
[Spring Spirit Summoning - Ruby gains Shenhe's elemental skill, summoning an ice spirit to either boost her speed and add ice to her attacks or send the spirit to attack targets on its own. Afterwards, Ruby and nearby allies gain a boost to ice attacks for a short period, making cold colder.]
"What…?"
She stumbled, staring at her hand. Her Aura…was glowing. A bright shade of red, that slowly dimmed back down to normal.
'What was that about?' she wondered.
Wait… Had she…
Excitement began to spark within her.
Something was different. A new feeling. She tugged at it, groping blindly with a sense she'd never used before, and a rectangular piece of paper with a symbol she didn't recognize appeared between her fingers. Almost looked a little bit like a squid, but she was pretty sure that wasn't it.
And it wasn't a piece of paper, it was just energy, Aura, in the shape of one, glowing a soft blue-white. Ruby stared in amazement for a second, the slip cool on her fingers, before it disappeared. Suddenly, that feeling of cold, not uncomfortable, just cool, surrounded her. It was comforting actually, almost like a hug.
And then she was rushing forward, being carried by the cold around her. The world blurred and it was only thanks to Ruby's experience with heavy acceleration that she brought Crescent Rose around in time to cut a beowolf in half, leaving the two halves covered in frost as they fell apart. But this was different from using recoil to throw herself in a direction. There was no pressure on her Aura, no strain on her body, just speed.
Then the shroud of cold left her, leaving a less intense feeling in its place as large, glowing snowflakes floated around her. It also left her in the middle of the pack, surrounded by beowolves that were about to pounce on her. Ruby tried to pull on that feeling again but nothing happened. "Uh oh."
Of course, Ruby wasn't defenseless and three of the Grimm in front of her were slashed apart mid-leap, but she was in a bad position and the moment of hesitation where her ice dash or whatever didn't work meant she couldn't fully dodge an attack from behind. Vicious claws dragging down her back, draining her aura, were Ruby's cue to get out of there the old fashioned way. Two more gunshots rang out in the snow covered clearing and Ruby was sent flying up, then away from the pack, getting her space once again.
Ruby breathed a sigh of relief before trying to puzzle things out. Again she tried to tug on that odd new feeling but all that happened was a flash of chill in her fingers. The feeling wasn't gone but it felt drained, almost like the times Ruby's Aura had been broken. Hopefully it filled back up like Aura did but unfortunately, live combat wasn't the best place for calm experimentation. As the beowolves charged again, Ruby had to focus on shooting them down. By the time the pack had reached her though, missing several members thanks to Ruby's excellent aim, Ruby noticed that the snowflakes fluttering around her were gone. Making a guess, she tried to ice dash again and this time it actually worked.
Ruby zoomed through the middle of the pack, Crescent Rose claiming several Beowolf necks, and when the dash ended, Ruby had broken through the other side of the pack. Throwing her hands in the air and letting out a celebratory whoop, Ruby noticed that the snowflakes were back, fluttering around her once again. "A cooldown indicator? Useful but… do Semblances normally work like that?"
Again, she didn't really have time to question it. The surviving members of the pack, by this point successfully whittled down from 'unending' to 'a bunch' whirled around, skidding in the snow and were quickly on Ruby again. Crescent Rose sang and barked as Ruby sliced and shot for another minute until the snowflakes disappeared again. With a grin, she maneuvered herself so that another ice dash would take her past the remaining Grimm, only for a thought to occur. Why did that talisman of Aura appear in her hand before the ice dash activated? Wouldn't it make more sense for her to just burst forward from the start? Following her hunch, this time she pulled out the slip of paper-like aura and threw it forward instead of holding onto it. And then she froze in place, her heart skipping a beat.
"Mom?" she breathed.
When Ruby saw the white cloak flying forward, she could only think of one thing. One impossible, unbelievable thing. But then the transparent figure slashed out with a giant scythe, not an ax, and Ruby's heart was crushed all over again. Of course. She'd heard of Semblances that could copy their users before. That's all this was. That's all it could ever be.
At least it was effective. The ice spirit or whatever Ruby was going to call it had burst forward and spun its copy of Crescent Rose in a circle, taking the remaining beowolves off-guard and dispatching them all in one fell swoop before disappearing.
It was good that the fight had finished, then; after what she thought she'd seen, her heart wasn't in it any more.
No. No, that was enough of that. Dad and Yang didn't need sad mopey Ruby. And she didn't need to attract more Grimm either.
Not that that was likely. Patch was pretty safe, given its popularity with huntsmen and huntresses that wanted to settle down. She'd probably culled the vast majority on the island just now.
Ruby took a deep breath, and let it out smoothly. She could walk home, then collapse in a bundle of confusion and joy and lingering grief into her own bed, rather than into the snow right now. Yes, good idea. She didn't want her tights getting wet and cold anyway, that would be bad.
She just needed something to keep her mind off things. Not her Semblance, even though it was super cool and she could do so many things with it and she couldn't wait to experiment and show off to Yang. It was just one or two links in the chain to thinking about Mom again. So, something else, like… Wait, before she unlocked her Semblance, hadn't her Aura glowed? And there was that humming, not quite a sound, more like she felt it in her bones or maybe her soul. Ruby remembered when Yang had unlocked her Semblance, nothing like that had happened back then, Yang's hair was suddenly on fire, no build up. So what, exactly, had Ruby done?
She'd drawn on her Aura for strength, nothing that special, but this time it just felt different somehow. What had she been thinking at the time? Nothing much, she hadn't really been thinking at all, just moving, breathing. Yang had mentioned that her body knew how to punch and duck on its own in a fight, a flow state Dad had called it.
Ruby remembered what it felt like, or at least she thought she did. Feeling curious as she walked home through the snow, she tried again to capture that feeling, between determination and serenity and she pulled on her Aura once again.
Hhhmmmmm…
[Kelly Chambers - Kelly Chambers has been summoned! Kelly served as Commander Shepard's yeoman on the Normandy SR-2, effectively a personal secretary/therapist. After being rescued from the Collectors, Kelly retired from the crew and deserted Cerberus. Kelly is a trained psychologist with a keen interest in helping people, but is lacking in combat skills.]
Ruby gasped as her Aura glowed around her, brighter than usual, and that humming built up inside of her. Then, all at once, the glow disappeared and the hum went away and suddenly a woman was standing in front of her.
"W-What? Where… What happened?!" The woman looked around in shock. She had short red hair and was wearing a set of brown suspenders that clung tightly to her body, and a pair of leather arm-sock thingies that left her shoulders bare. Ruby thought that the woman would look quite pretty if not for the clear stress on her face, making her look older.
Whoever she was, she was obviously bewildered. And Ruby wasn't any better.
"Huh?! Where the heck did you come from?" Ruby exclaimed.
"That's what I want to know!" The woman yelled. Ruby tried not to take offense, the lady was obviously panicking. "One moment I was on the Citadel, now I'm planetside! That… That's impossible, right?"
"Citadel? Is that some Atlas fortress somewhere?" Ruby asked, before pausing. "Wait. Back up a second. 'Planetside?' As in…not already on Remnant?" The redhead felt an excited grin begin to form on her face. "Oh my gosh am I talking to an alien right now? Are you an alien? This is so cool! What planet are you from? Why do you look human? What's it like in space?"
"I am human!" The woman snapped before pinching her brow and taking a deep breath. "Sorry, I just- Look, what'd you call this planet? Remnant? That's… mildly concerning. And I don't remember any colonies called that, although there are a lot out there; no one could remember all of them…"
As the woman trailed off into her thoughts, Ruby froze again as she had a very important realization.
This woman had appeared…right after Ruby had flexed her Aura.
Had…she done this? Was her Semblance not that ice dash, like she'd thought?
While Ruby was contemplating that worrying possibility, the woman seemed to have come to her own conclusion. Straightening up, she waved at Ruby to get her attention. "Right, I think I have some questions that need answers. But first, introductions. Hi, I'm Kelly Chambers, what about you?"
"Oh, uh, I'm Ruby Rose! Nice to meet you!" Ruby forced herself to smile and ignore that maybe she had possibly kidnapped someone from space. Maybe. She stuck her hand out to shake, all the same.
"Nice to meet you, Ruby." Kelly returned a smile of her own. "Now, can you tell me if you recognize any of these terms? Mass Effect? Systems Alliance? Citadel Council? Protheans? Asari? Turians?"
Ruby shook her head at each new word, and Kelly's friendly smile grew increasingly brittle. "Um, nope. Sorry."
Kelly let out a hollow laugh and looked like she might fall over, so Ruby leaped to her side to hold her hand and support her back. "Heh. Hahah… Teleported through space to land on an out of contact colony world," she mumbled. "Impossible. Just impossible. H-How am I going to get back…?"
Kelly's arms came up to hug herself, and she began shivering, whether it be from the cold of their snowy surroundings, or dread from the crappy situation, she didn't know.
Guilt and fear struck Ruby's heart like bullets. She couldn't have done this, right? She wasn't responsible for kidnapping, stranding, an innocent woman who was probably from space. Semblances just didn't have that kind of power, right? You couldn't reach across Remnant like that, let alone up into space! That was impossible, but…
But how else could Kelly have gotten here?
There was only one way to find out. And before she could think any better of it, Ruby tugged on her Aura again.
Hhhmmmmm…
[Plotmon (X-Antibody) - Plotmon has been summoned! A Holy-species Digimon at the child level, Plotmon is young, innocent and rather weak, although a hidden power slumbers deep within. Imbued with the X-Antibody, which strengthens Digimon and protects from deletion by viruses, this Plotmon is even cuter than usual and has extra holy power.]
This time, after the humming and the red glow died down, a small dog-like creature with an oversized golden collar around its neck appeared in the snow right at Ruby's feet. Ruby looked down at it and a breathless wheeze escaped from her lungs. It was absolutely, positively adorable, and yet, while her natural inclination was to fawn over it… The weight of what her Semblance was capable of hung over her like a cloud.
Because it was her. She had summoned Miss Chambers and this little puppy and probably her ice dash too, somehow.
And she had absolutely no idea how to get them back where they came from.
"...Ohhh, nooo…" Ruby whined, her hands slowly covering her mouth as she rocked in place, trying to get her panic under control.
"Hi! Are you a human?" The puppy asked with a happy smile, completely oblivious to the fact that puppies couldn't talk!
Ruby decided now was a good time to panic.
Last edited:
Lazurman
This is fine.
- Location
- Classified
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The way a Wiki Warrior fic works is by rolling a dX, where X is the number of settings you want to pull from, then clicking for a random page on their wiki. Presto, a new thing or ability gets summoned. For safety reasons, Ruby won't be able to summon something that's an immediate or existential threat to her life. She could summon a grenade, for example, but not one that's had the pin pulled. Or for a more drastic example, she's not summoning a Chaos God. I'm not that cruel.
Sources:
Sources:
- Pokémon - https://m.bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Special:Random#/random
- Nier - https://nier.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Type Moon - https://typemoon.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Marvel - https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- DC - https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Digimon - https://wikimon.net/Special:Random
- Megami Tensei - https://megamitensei.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Honkai Star Rail - https://honkai-star-rail.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Genshin Impact - https://genshin-impact.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Pretty Cure - https://prettycure.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Final Fantasy XIV - https://ffxiv.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Halo - https://halo.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Cyberpunk 2077 - https://cyberpunk.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Mass Effect - https://masseffect.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Elden Ring - https://eldenring.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - https://skyrim.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- League of Legends - https://leagueoflegends.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Warhammer 40k - https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Star Wars - https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
- Warframe - https://warframe.fandom.com/wiki/special:random
Planesrunning, Ch 3
Lazurman
This is fine.
- Location
- Classified
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Chapter 3
The dread only climbed as the pair continued to not answer in the affirmative; my knee is bouncing quick enough that my ankle is starting to cramp, but I can't give a shit about that right now.
I need them to say yes. I need them!
I feel a cold sweat start running down my back, and I swallow noisily.
I'd self-sabotaged through excessive honesty again, hadn't I?
"I-It's not that bad!" I blurt out in a rush. "I mi-might be making it sound worse than it is. The Loki Familia is one of the stronger groups in the multiverse I'm aware of. You- You're stable, experienced, well-equipped, and have good teamwork w-with a variety of skillsets-"
Damn my fucking stutter! I'm stressed the fuck out and I haven't rehearsed any lines! My conversational flowchart's run dry and I'm flying blind!
With his eyes closed, Finn holds up his palm, and my jaw clicks shut.
"Loki?" he asks quietly, and my stress levels continue to rise unabated as I turn to the woman.
She rocks from side to side in her seat, her eyes once more in that inscrutable foxy squint. "You're the captain, boyo," she says at last. "I say we take him in. Much, much too interesting to just let go. But it's your call in the end."
She lets out a rueful sigh, and I swivel back to Finn, trying my best to communicate just how fucking desperate I am with my eyes alone.
Please…
My gaze is drawn from Finn's face as he raises his hand up, peels off the leather glove covering it, and…sticks his thumb into his mouth? What?
A few seconds pass in agonizing silence as I rack my brains as I try to remember why that's an important thing to note when suddenly…he bites down on it.
I blink away the vision, my brow furrowing as moments later, the real Finn copies it.
Both Finn's and Loki's eyes widen with shock as he pulls it out and stares at it; blood oozes from the tip. He must not have meant to-
Oh.
Oh.
I…remember now.
Finn Deimne, the Braver. His character was inspired by Fionn mac Cumhaill, a legendary hero from Irish folklore. Said to have possessed a magic thumb that granted him great wisdom when he sucked on it.
Here, in his anime incarnation, it manifested as a vague sense of danger in the future. A throbbing that increased in pain the more dangerous the threat was.
In all my years of watching the show…reading fanfics…I hadn't seen a reaction as bad as that.
And that means…
My head bows, and my hopes crumble.
"I see," I say softly, staring at the floor. My legs feel like jelly as I force myself to my feet. I see him wordlessly shaking his head, and before Finn can make the motion in the real, I speak up; my wooden voice cracks a bit. "Thank you for your time. I remember the way out."
Neither of them say a word to stop me as I turn and shuffle to the door.
Don't cry, I tell myself. Don't cry. Loki may not be an option, and Freya definitely isn't, but you have others. There's a whole multiverse out there.
That didn't make it sting any less.
Gritting my teeth, I grip the doorknob to steady myself. Open it.
Stay.
"Before I go…there's something you should know," I say, my voice unacceptably watery.
They might not be willing to stick their necks out for me. And…I get why. Really, I do. That was a lot to ask, of anyone, much less slightly benevolent mercenaries.
But that didn't mean I couldn't do at least a little good for the world before my time was up.
"Dionysus… God of wine, revelry, and madness. He's Enyo. He's Evilus."
I hear a pair of sharp intakes of breath from behind me, and continue. "And from the moment Hestia gets her first familia member, you will have about a year before the One-Eyed Black Dragon returns."
My shoulders hunch, and I slink away, hands stuffed in my pockets. "Good luck."
The door swings shut behind me, and I let out a shuddering breath as muffled voices begin murmuring behind it.
Just one year. Always thought it was crazy how fast everything tends to happen in stories. I could waste years of my life with nothing changing at all, and some plucky heroes went through more in a single one than I ever would in a lifetime.
Still, that's what Omori had said: the entire story, from Bell facing down the minotaur, Soma Familia, Apollo Familia, Ishtar Familia, Freya, the One-Eyed Black Dragon, the Dungeon itself, and more… all supposed to happen in just one year. Absolutely wild.
All that, and I'd be lucky if I made it a year alone.
"Kh."
My lower lip wobbles, and I just…keep putting one foot in front of the other. Only thing I ever could do, no matter how shitty life got.
Honestly don't know why I'm bothering to leave the manor before I leave this universe. For politeness' sake? I'm never seeing these people again. The thought of doing the walk of shame past those smug pricks at the gate makes me wanna break something; my fists ball up as I restrain a petty tantrum.
Just as I'm about to open the door and exit the building, another flash of precognition and muted babble warns me, and I step back from it just as a gaggle of young women spill through.
Twins, tan skin, dark hair; the Hiryutes. Short, blonde, stoic; Ais. Shorter, ginger, pointed ears, trailing in Ais' wake like an infatuated gay puppy; Lefiya. Tall, dignified, pointed ears, green hair; Princess Riveria.
Any other time, I could at least muster a smile at all the familiar 2D faces brought to 3D life.
"Hooome sweet ho- eh? Who are you?" asks the twin in the white tube top, blinking up at me curiously. Tiona or Tione. Too off-kilter to remember which twin was which.
"I…"
The thought occurs to spill my sob story to them. See if they'd do anything to help convince Finn and Loki. But there'd be no point to it. Their captain had spoken, for all that he didn't say the words out loud.
I just hope my eyes aren't too red. Leave me with a little dignity, please?
I grimace and shake my head, hunching my shoulders. "I'm no one important. I was just leaving. Excuse me, please."
The assorted superpowered women share a collective look and a couple shrugs before stepping aside. Just another sad stranger in a city full of them. Something to pester Loki about later, no doubt.
Loki…
Once again, I pause at the threshold. Expression slackening and eyes widening, I look back the way I'd come as another echo from the future plays across my retinas.
"HOOOOOLD IT!" Loki roars, chest heaving as she points at me dramatically.
I can only blink.
What? Was this…
"You can't just walk into my life, say something so ominous, and leave! Stupid sad man, you gotta let a goddess process some things!" she berates, marching up to me and prodding me in the forehead repeatedly, making me go cross-eyed.
Despite the…manic and slightly scary behavior on display…
Hope, once extinguished, begins to blossom in my heart.
"You mean… D-Did you…" I croaked.
"Change our minds? Hell yeah we did! I know I told you not to be too honest, but next time start with that! Ol' One-Eye is too big a deal to save for the end!"
Beside us, I'm distantly aware of Ais' head whipping around to stare at me with laserlike intensity, but I have eyes only for Loki.
The goddess' wine red eyes gleam with a playful sort of avarice. "Yeah. Lemme spell it out for ya. I want ya. Not just as our contractor, but as part of the familia in full. We'll protect ya, train ya up, and in exchange? You use your fancy magic to help us prepare for a fight we really ain't ready for. So what do ya say, boyo? You in?"
Heh… Heheheh!
My fickle luck had decided to swing back in my favor, huh?
I let out a tiny, tremulous smile, one that quickly grows to a blinding grin as I rub away the wetness that had been building up in my eyes.
"Yeah, I'm in. As long as you'll have me."
Her grin turns triumphant, and she lets out an exuberant cheer, pumping her fist and doing a little jig.
"Yes! Score one for Loki~! I just keep pullin' SSRs! Ya love to see it!"
…I'll ignore that, for the sake of my sanity and dignity. Just like I'm ignoring the girls as they crowd around us with enough questions and varying levels of energy to make an introvert like me want to shriek and run for the hills.
But…
What I can't quite ignore is the sight of Finn, watching his goddess celebrate.
Watching me.
His thumb remains firmly jammed in his mouth.
His eyes meet mine, and I quickly look away.
-.-.-.-
"Aaand this is you!"
The room Loki ushers me into is almost palatial, but I can't be bothered to focus on all the noisy little details and accouterments in favor of gazing longingly at the king-sized bed dominating the center of the far wall.
It looks very soft and inviting.
I have had a day, okay? Emotionally fraught, highly stressful, and with my social batteries flickering on the last percent of power. Right now all I want to do is kick off my shoes, strip nekkid, and crawl under the covers to hug a pillow and pretend the world wasn't a terrifying nightmare as was my habit.
But it seemed Loki had one last bit of biz to take care of before I could close my eyes and sleep.
"So, I can tell you're kinda goin' through it right now, so I won't pester ya too much more," Loki says cheerfully, prancing over to the bed–my bed now, I guess–and hopping up to take a seat. "Just gotta make things official and all that. You ready to be part of Loki Familia in full?"
Ah. The falna. Right.
"Yeah. Is there anything you need me to do?"
"Just whip that shirt off and lie down, boyo! Don't worry, I won't get too handsy with ya–this time," she says with a cheeky grin, patting the bed.
I smile thinly. Ah, how could I forget? Loki: goddess of mischief and sexual harassment, in this brave new world. I suppose I'd have to get used to my new goddess' quirks. Somehow, I think I could make my peace with getting occasionally groped by a cute girl. At least this one could be fended off with a bop on the head every now and again.
"I'll hold you to that," I reply with a tiny grin. "Be forewarned, while I might look fearsome and manly, I have the heart of a tender maiden."
My shirt unceremoniously hit the floor as I did a little hop and flopped onto the bed bellyfirst beside her.
"Ufufufu, I'll keep that in mind," Loki titters as she straddles my hips. I barely feel the weight, on account of her slim size. Though I definitely feel it when she drags her fingernails down my back.
…Not gonna lie, I'm extremely glad I was super tired right now, cuz I'd probably be a bit more flustered by the circumstances if I weren't.
Loki liked to tease and poke and prod. I'd have to remember that. Catching feelings for a goddess that was now technically my boss cuz my autistic ass misunderstood something would be awkward. Wouldn't be the first time, at least.
"Heheh. You're a bit squishier than most of the others who've been in your position," she comments, poking me right in the love handles and making me twitch. "Hairier, too."
"A soft living dealt me a harsh hand," I reply dryly. "Trust me, I have ample motivation to get back in shape as soon as possible."
"Oh I don't doubt my kids are gonna run ya ragged come tomorrow," she says, far too cheerfully. "So, fair warning, you'd best be prepared for that."
Honestly? I was kinda looking forward to it. I was no stranger to busting my ass as part of a team. Aimless freedom and joint pain and depression had put a stop to that for a time. But I'd lived that life once, and know I could do it again.
Every drop of sweat I shed was a drop of blood I wouldn't.
"Duly noted."
A few moments later, I feel a drop of something warm splash on my back, and the room becomes bathed in blue light.
"Welcome to your new family, boyo. We'll take good care of ya."
-.-.-.-
AN: Please be gentle with your new pet wizard, Loki; he has social anxiety. lol
Changed the title to something better than Flight of the Traveler.
The dread only climbed as the pair continued to not answer in the affirmative; my knee is bouncing quick enough that my ankle is starting to cramp, but I can't give a shit about that right now.
I need them to say yes. I need them!
I feel a cold sweat start running down my back, and I swallow noisily.
I'd self-sabotaged through excessive honesty again, hadn't I?
"I-It's not that bad!" I blurt out in a rush. "I mi-might be making it sound worse than it is. The Loki Familia is one of the stronger groups in the multiverse I'm aware of. You- You're stable, experienced, well-equipped, and have good teamwork w-with a variety of skillsets-"
Damn my fucking stutter! I'm stressed the fuck out and I haven't rehearsed any lines! My conversational flowchart's run dry and I'm flying blind!
With his eyes closed, Finn holds up his palm, and my jaw clicks shut.
"Loki?" he asks quietly, and my stress levels continue to rise unabated as I turn to the woman.
She rocks from side to side in her seat, her eyes once more in that inscrutable foxy squint. "You're the captain, boyo," she says at last. "I say we take him in. Much, much too interesting to just let go. But it's your call in the end."
She lets out a rueful sigh, and I swivel back to Finn, trying my best to communicate just how fucking desperate I am with my eyes alone.
Please…
My gaze is drawn from Finn's face as he raises his hand up, peels off the leather glove covering it, and…sticks his thumb into his mouth? What?
A few seconds pass in agonizing silence as I rack my brains as I try to remember why that's an important thing to note when suddenly…he bites down on it.
I blink away the vision, my brow furrowing as moments later, the real Finn copies it.
Both Finn's and Loki's eyes widen with shock as he pulls it out and stares at it; blood oozes from the tip. He must not have meant to-
Oh.
Oh.
I…remember now.
Finn Deimne, the Braver. His character was inspired by Fionn mac Cumhaill, a legendary hero from Irish folklore. Said to have possessed a magic thumb that granted him great wisdom when he sucked on it.
Here, in his anime incarnation, it manifested as a vague sense of danger in the future. A throbbing that increased in pain the more dangerous the threat was.
In all my years of watching the show…reading fanfics…I hadn't seen a reaction as bad as that.
And that means…
My head bows, and my hopes crumble.
"I see," I say softly, staring at the floor. My legs feel like jelly as I force myself to my feet. I see him wordlessly shaking his head, and before Finn can make the motion in the real, I speak up; my wooden voice cracks a bit. "Thank you for your time. I remember the way out."
Neither of them say a word to stop me as I turn and shuffle to the door.
Don't cry, I tell myself. Don't cry. Loki may not be an option, and Freya definitely isn't, but you have others. There's a whole multiverse out there.
That didn't make it sting any less.
Gritting my teeth, I grip the doorknob to steady myself. Open it.
Stay.
"Before I go…there's something you should know," I say, my voice unacceptably watery.
They might not be willing to stick their necks out for me. And…I get why. Really, I do. That was a lot to ask, of anyone, much less slightly benevolent mercenaries.
But that didn't mean I couldn't do at least a little good for the world before my time was up.
"Dionysus… God of wine, revelry, and madness. He's Enyo. He's Evilus."
I hear a pair of sharp intakes of breath from behind me, and continue. "And from the moment Hestia gets her first familia member, you will have about a year before the One-Eyed Black Dragon returns."
My shoulders hunch, and I slink away, hands stuffed in my pockets. "Good luck."
The door swings shut behind me, and I let out a shuddering breath as muffled voices begin murmuring behind it.
Just one year. Always thought it was crazy how fast everything tends to happen in stories. I could waste years of my life with nothing changing at all, and some plucky heroes went through more in a single one than I ever would in a lifetime.
Still, that's what Omori had said: the entire story, from Bell facing down the minotaur, Soma Familia, Apollo Familia, Ishtar Familia, Freya, the One-Eyed Black Dragon, the Dungeon itself, and more… all supposed to happen in just one year. Absolutely wild.
All that, and I'd be lucky if I made it a year alone.
"Kh."
My lower lip wobbles, and I just…keep putting one foot in front of the other. Only thing I ever could do, no matter how shitty life got.
Honestly don't know why I'm bothering to leave the manor before I leave this universe. For politeness' sake? I'm never seeing these people again. The thought of doing the walk of shame past those smug pricks at the gate makes me wanna break something; my fists ball up as I restrain a petty tantrum.
Just as I'm about to open the door and exit the building, another flash of precognition and muted babble warns me, and I step back from it just as a gaggle of young women spill through.
Twins, tan skin, dark hair; the Hiryutes. Short, blonde, stoic; Ais. Shorter, ginger, pointed ears, trailing in Ais' wake like an infatuated gay puppy; Lefiya. Tall, dignified, pointed ears, green hair; Princess Riveria.
Any other time, I could at least muster a smile at all the familiar 2D faces brought to 3D life.
"Hooome sweet ho- eh? Who are you?" asks the twin in the white tube top, blinking up at me curiously. Tiona or Tione. Too off-kilter to remember which twin was which.
"I…"
The thought occurs to spill my sob story to them. See if they'd do anything to help convince Finn and Loki. But there'd be no point to it. Their captain had spoken, for all that he didn't say the words out loud.
I just hope my eyes aren't too red. Leave me with a little dignity, please?
I grimace and shake my head, hunching my shoulders. "I'm no one important. I was just leaving. Excuse me, please."
The assorted superpowered women share a collective look and a couple shrugs before stepping aside. Just another sad stranger in a city full of them. Something to pester Loki about later, no doubt.
Loki…
Once again, I pause at the threshold. Expression slackening and eyes widening, I look back the way I'd come as another echo from the future plays across my retinas.
"HOOOOOLD IT!" Loki roars, chest heaving as she points at me dramatically.
I can only blink.
What? Was this…
"You can't just walk into my life, say something so ominous, and leave! Stupid sad man, you gotta let a goddess process some things!" she berates, marching up to me and prodding me in the forehead repeatedly, making me go cross-eyed.
Despite the…manic and slightly scary behavior on display…
Hope, once extinguished, begins to blossom in my heart.
"You mean… D-Did you…" I croaked.
"Change our minds? Hell yeah we did! I know I told you not to be too honest, but next time start with that! Ol' One-Eye is too big a deal to save for the end!"
Beside us, I'm distantly aware of Ais' head whipping around to stare at me with laserlike intensity, but I have eyes only for Loki.
The goddess' wine red eyes gleam with a playful sort of avarice. "Yeah. Lemme spell it out for ya. I want ya. Not just as our contractor, but as part of the familia in full. We'll protect ya, train ya up, and in exchange? You use your fancy magic to help us prepare for a fight we really ain't ready for. So what do ya say, boyo? You in?"
Heh… Heheheh!
My fickle luck had decided to swing back in my favor, huh?
I let out a tiny, tremulous smile, one that quickly grows to a blinding grin as I rub away the wetness that had been building up in my eyes.
"Yeah, I'm in. As long as you'll have me."
Her grin turns triumphant, and she lets out an exuberant cheer, pumping her fist and doing a little jig.
"Yes! Score one for Loki~! I just keep pullin' SSRs! Ya love to see it!"
…I'll ignore that, for the sake of my sanity and dignity. Just like I'm ignoring the girls as they crowd around us with enough questions and varying levels of energy to make an introvert like me want to shriek and run for the hills.
But…
What I can't quite ignore is the sight of Finn, watching his goddess celebrate.
Watching me.
His thumb remains firmly jammed in his mouth.
His eyes meet mine, and I quickly look away.
-.-.-.-
"Aaand this is you!"
The room Loki ushers me into is almost palatial, but I can't be bothered to focus on all the noisy little details and accouterments in favor of gazing longingly at the king-sized bed dominating the center of the far wall.
It looks very soft and inviting.
I have had a day, okay? Emotionally fraught, highly stressful, and with my social batteries flickering on the last percent of power. Right now all I want to do is kick off my shoes, strip nekkid, and crawl under the covers to hug a pillow and pretend the world wasn't a terrifying nightmare as was my habit.
But it seemed Loki had one last bit of biz to take care of before I could close my eyes and sleep.
"So, I can tell you're kinda goin' through it right now, so I won't pester ya too much more," Loki says cheerfully, prancing over to the bed–my bed now, I guess–and hopping up to take a seat. "Just gotta make things official and all that. You ready to be part of Loki Familia in full?"
Ah. The falna. Right.
"Yeah. Is there anything you need me to do?"
"Just whip that shirt off and lie down, boyo! Don't worry, I won't get too handsy with ya–this time," she says with a cheeky grin, patting the bed.
I smile thinly. Ah, how could I forget? Loki: goddess of mischief and sexual harassment, in this brave new world. I suppose I'd have to get used to my new goddess' quirks. Somehow, I think I could make my peace with getting occasionally groped by a cute girl. At least this one could be fended off with a bop on the head every now and again.
"I'll hold you to that," I reply with a tiny grin. "Be forewarned, while I might look fearsome and manly, I have the heart of a tender maiden."
My shirt unceremoniously hit the floor as I did a little hop and flopped onto the bed bellyfirst beside her.
"Ufufufu, I'll keep that in mind," Loki titters as she straddles my hips. I barely feel the weight, on account of her slim size. Though I definitely feel it when she drags her fingernails down my back.
…Not gonna lie, I'm extremely glad I was super tired right now, cuz I'd probably be a bit more flustered by the circumstances if I weren't.
Loki liked to tease and poke and prod. I'd have to remember that. Catching feelings for a goddess that was now technically my boss cuz my autistic ass misunderstood something would be awkward. Wouldn't be the first time, at least.
"Heheh. You're a bit squishier than most of the others who've been in your position," she comments, poking me right in the love handles and making me twitch. "Hairier, too."
"A soft living dealt me a harsh hand," I reply dryly. "Trust me, I have ample motivation to get back in shape as soon as possible."
"Oh I don't doubt my kids are gonna run ya ragged come tomorrow," she says, far too cheerfully. "So, fair warning, you'd best be prepared for that."
Honestly? I was kinda looking forward to it. I was no stranger to busting my ass as part of a team. Aimless freedom and joint pain and depression had put a stop to that for a time. But I'd lived that life once, and know I could do it again.
Every drop of sweat I shed was a drop of blood I wouldn't.
"Duly noted."
A few moments later, I feel a drop of something warm splash on my back, and the room becomes bathed in blue light.
"Welcome to your new family, boyo. We'll take good care of ya."
-.-.-.-
AN: Please be gentle with your new pet wizard, Loki; he has social anxiety. lol
Changed the title to something better than Flight of the Traveler.