The Makeover Montage

After earning the title of ‘special guest’ in the most illustrious Casino in the California sector, Indi asks an estranged crew mate to help.

Notes:

• Eudora goes by the code name Dot.

• Indi goes by the code name Astar.

• Tess is Indi’s assigned bodyguard while on the casino.

—

Indi stared at herself in the large gold trimmed mirror. Behind her reflection, the autumn toned bedroom was starting to warm with the rising of a projected sun. Golden accents in the room’s decor caught the rays and cast beams of light across the walls, bathing the entire suite in a rosy glow. Tess had told her the Vineyard Suites were perfect for those who didn’t feel the need to flaunt their wealth. But to Indi, any room that could turn sun into gold would always be the most luxurious place in the whole of Agua Caliente. 

And I look like a clump of mud that someone accidentally dragged in. The idea made her stomach drop with a feeling she didn’t like. She only had one outfit; a plain shirt, thick oversized overalls, and black boots so scuffed, the were practically gray. Normally, she had no problems dressing in the mornings, but for some reason, under the glow of a fake sun, Indi was feeling strangely self conscious. Anxiously, she dug into her small pack of essentials and pulled out the only accessory that wasn’t a weapon or tool. Her heart sank when Indi saw that the purple bucket hat not only clashed with her orange shirt, but it also made her faded hair look dirtier than it was. I look ridiculous. She thought at her reflection sourly, throwing the hat across the room. How is anyone going to take me seriously in a place like this? A softer internal voice asked if they took her seriously anywhere else. For a moment, Indi considered putting on The Bishop Suit. It was technologically advanced enough to pass in a place like this, but its circuits held memories she would rather leave behind. Prophets, I wasn’t made to do stuff this fancy. This is more Jason and Eudora’s speed anywa- Eudora! 

Good morning, Dot. Hope you had sweet dreams… Do you have any clothes I can borrow? I am feeling a bit underdressed. Let me know when you wake up! - Astar

It was only after Esu to sent the message, did Indi reconsider. She had kept Eudora at arms length since Rino; the growing concern with her “mothers” and multiple poor interactions with Trent made it easy for Indi to practically avoid Eudora for most of their journey. The fiery resentment Indi had felt after Rino had been cold for quite some time, but with everything else happening, the two had never reconnected. She’s probably got lots going on, especially in a place like this. I really shouldn’t bother her with my attire. Indi began to request a second message to be sent to Eudora, when Esu read her response.  

—

Eudora wore her new face with a smile when she invited Indi into the smaller suite that smelled of rosewater and sandalwood. 

“I am so glad you came! I brought all my clothes with me, so I’ve got plenty to share.” Eudora said excitedly. She quickly closed the door behind Indi, and guided her to sit on a plush seat in front of a gigantic double door wardrobe. “Did you eat breakfast yet?” 

The question caught Indi off guard; all thoughts of breakfast had vanished in the golden mirror. “No.” A mug of rich hot chocolate and a bowl of fresh fruit were in her hands before she could say another word. 

“Good, I ordered us a pre breakfast snack just in case.” Eudora nibbled on some pomegranate seeds and leaned on the edge of her bed, eyes bright with earnest excitement. “So tell me, what type of outfit are you looking for?”

It was weird to see her like this; their interactions were more often guarded or tense. Indi wondered if this was the Eudora that everyone else saw... or if this was just another face she was trying out. 

Indi sipped on her hot chocolate for a long while, mulling over the question and searching for a suitable answer. “Umm like pants?” She paused. “And a shirt.”

Eudora disappointedly sipped from a mug that smelled like coffee beans and toffee. “Well, I do have some of those. I was asking if you had a particular style you like to wear. Sporty? Or chic? I do have a few dresses that are a bit more avant-garde, if you wanted to make a statement during our time here!”

“Oh. I don’t think I have a style.” Indi admitted. “Unless, you consider my brother and my mothers hand-me-downs’ as a style.” 

Eudora laughed. It was carefree and inviting. Indi remembered the first time she had made Eudora laugh, the memory was sweet and sad. “No, I don’t think that is a style.” Eudora eagurly moved to the wardrobe doors. “But don’t worry, we will find something you like.” With a dramatic flair, she swung open both doors at once, revealing a sea of fabrics of all color and texture. Small shelves extended themselves from the inside of both doors, one showcasing a dozen pairs of shoes, the other a dozen busts draped with all manner of jewel and stone. What is more beautiful? A room of golden light or a closet of rainbows?

“Oh.” Was all Indi could say. She felt the need to move very slowly as she gingerly set down her hot chocolate and fruit, moving to the open doors. Eudora was trying to show her how to open the multiple compartments within the wardrobe, but Indi wasn’t listening. The garment she reached for was the exact color of her ma’s old dress; soft blue like the morning skies on Anatolia. When she felt the smooth fabric between her fingers, the word ‘silk’ came to Indi’s mind. Her ma’s dress had been made of a scratchy linen and always tight around Indi’s shoulders. I was left at the farm because I refused to wear it to the fair. Indi lost herself in the memory of that day. That’s how I found the ship… I wonder if that dress burned with the rest.

Indi recognized the silence. “Sorry.” Indi let go of the silk dress.  

Eudora shook her head. “Don’t be. I know it can be a lot to take in.” She smiled, encouragingly. “Do you… want to try it on?”

—

Indi looked at herself in the full length mirror. Distressed chiffon draped over the short tight dress, while neon coral tubes overly defined every curve of her body. The top of the garment covered her shoulders and neck, but was cut in a way that still peaked the top of her chest. 

I look like a ‘check engine’ light. Indi thought miserably. She was beginning to feel less confident by the minute, despite the extragovancy of every garment. The silky blue dress had been the most luxurious thing Indi had ever worn, but the excessive cut outs had left her entire back and half her midriff exposed to the world. Eudora had listened carefully to her feedback, before she selected the next outfit to try. She had helped Indi wiggle into a dress that covered her entire back and stomach, but the leather stuck like a second skin, and Indi didn’t think the overly defined shoulders helped her already square frame. When Eudora selected a shirt and matching skirt, Indi had refused to put it on.

“The fabric hurts my teeth.” Indi knew the explanation made no sense, but somehow Eudora understood. 

“No velvet. Got it.” She said, before diving back into her closet for another dress. After nearly an hour, Indi realized that none of Eudora’s clothes would suit her. Even if they did fit, the garments were too extravagant, too revealing, too much. 

When Eudora finished attaching the last coral armband to Indi’s wrist, she stepped back to look at the full outfit. 

“Well,” Eudora always sounded confident, and yet now she seemed cautious. “It fits. How does it feel?”

Under the woman’s green eyes, Indi couldn’t take the embarrassment anymore.

“I appreciate all your help, but I don’t think I can wear this.” Indi gestured with her obnoxious armband. “Or really any of these, to be honest. I am sure you can wear something like this but I need something a lot less… just a lot less I think.”

Eudora sighed. “You are right. You look like you are wearing someone else's clothes.” Indi fought to remind her that she was, in fact, wearing someone else’s clothes. “I am sorry, I couldn’t help.” Something about the way she said it, the way her eyes cast down to the floor, told Indi that Eudora wasn’t just talking about her attire.

”It’s fine. I know, we can figure it out.” Eudora gave a small smile before untangling Indi from the neon coral monstrosity. Her overalls had never felt so cheap as Indi found her normal self in the full length mirror again. 

“I guess, that’s it.” Eudora said as she closed the wardrobe solemnly. 

“I guess so.” 

Sadness washed over her, as Indi realized that their time had too quickly drawn to a close. After leaving this room, they would go their separate ways and maybe not speak again in private for days. A softer internal voice said maybe never again, with the way that things typically go for us. 

“Eudora? Would you, maybe, go shopping with me?” The green eyed woman gave Indi a look she had never seen before.  

“Really? You want to go…” Eudora’s voice trailed off.

Indi let the words rush out of her, not daring to let the silence sit for too long. “I really don’t know what I am doing when it comes to clothes, or hair, or… anything! And I don’t want to look like a fool infront of the whole Agua Caliente. I am supposed to be a Special Guest for prophets sake! And look at me! You are the only person I can trust to make me not look or feel stupid right now, but I totally understand if you don’t want to waste you-”

Indi was almost knocked to her feet as Eudora hugged her. “Yes! Oh, this will be so much fun! We can get you some new outfits, maybe even a facial or a nail treatment. Oh! I am in dire need of a deep conditioning and I know the best salon.” Eudora’s excited chatter was interrupted by the fierce growl of Indi’s stomach. Eudora dropped her hold on Indi, the spell of excitement falling away like a dream. “Sounds like you need some actual breakfast first.” 

“Tess did mention the unlimited waffles at the Berryessa Cafe.” Indi offered. 

“That settles it.” Eudora hooked her arm with Indi’s and began to walk out the door. “We will eat breakfast with the rest of the crew, then we will treat ourselves to a little pampering.” 

As they left the suite that smelled of rosewater and sandalwood, Indi couldn’t help but feel that something was missing. Maybe it was the new face that brought about the shift between them, but she had never felt this comfortable around Eudora.  Modoc changed everything. Indi told herself. And maybe change isn’t always a violent thing.

—

Eudora took charge the moment they arrived at Quero Moda, her initial consultation with the two attendants washing over Indi in an incomprehensible blur. The store had six floors; three for clothing, one for jewels and perfume, another for shoes, and the top floor was reserved exclusively for undergarments. Each level hosted its own attendants, mini bar, styling rooms, and too many options for Indi’s preference. 

“You know,” Tess’s unfamiliar voice jolted Indi out of her ogling. “My mama used to tell me that if I kept my mouth open for too long a pájaro would shit down my throat.”

”I’ve never seen this much… stuff.” Indi felt phantom eyes staring at her scuffed boots and ill fitting overalls. She should have worn The Bishop after all. 

“Eh.” Tess said with a shrug. “Stuff is stuff. Ain’t the real value in this universe the friends you meet along the way?” 

Indi had the unmistakable feeling that he was making funny of her. 

“No, the clothes are not for me. Astar?” Eudora called for her. “Could you come here a moment? These folk need to get your measurements.”

As the shorter attendant aimed a device at different parts of Indi’s body, the taller of the two continued. “Any other requests, ma’am?” They had a strong accent that Indi couldn’t place. 

“No velvet material.” Eudora said sternly.

”No worries, madam. Velvet was two seasons ago. Rest assured your…” The tall attendant paused for his next word. “Friend, will be outfitted with the best that the Agua Caliente has to offer.” 

“I should hope so.” With the final measurement taken, the two attendants left at a wave of Eudora’s hand. “Now,” She smiled back at Indi, her green eyes bright with barely contained excitement. “They will call us when they are ready. For now, let's go shopping! If you see something you like, they will bring one to our dressing suite. Let the fun begin!”

—
“What do you think?” Their eyes met in the gigantic curved mirror that arched around the platform in the center of the dressing suite. If Indi hadn’t spent the earlier part of the morning playing dress up in Eudora’s clothes, the suit jacket and pants set would have been the most expensive outfit she had ever worn. But now…

”I like it.” Indi said, but even to her ears she sounded unconvincing. 

“What do you like about it?” Eudora waited patiently on the lavish sofa sipping at another drink, this one smelling of grass and lavender. When Indi struggled to find an answer, Eudora was there to guide her. “Do you like the color?”

“Not really.”

Eudora nodded encouragingly. “I agree. That bold of a color washes you out. What about the fabric? Is it uncomfortable?”

“It’s not uncomfortable, but it isn’t comfortable either. And I don’t like how low the top goes.” 

Eudora smiled. “A more modest look then. Do you like the pants?”

“They fit nice, but they are missing pockets.”

The short attendant stifled a snort. “That is why we have an entire section of the store dedicated to purses, clutches, and bags, miss.” 

Eudora’s smile quickly turned to a scowl as she turned to the attendant. “If the Quero Moda is unable to find a pair of pants suitable enough for our needs, we will find another store.” 

The short attendant dismissed herself without another word. Indi gave Eudora an appreciative smile while the taller assistant broke the silence.

“Why don’t we move to some evening attire, while my assistant finds you more acceptable day wear?”

—

“No.” Tess’s response cut through the bubbling excitement in Indi’s chest. 

“What do you mean, no? This is the only thing I picked out by myself!” The gown billowed out at her waist with tiered tule in all shades of rose, blush, and salmon. It was clearly inspired by an older time, and came with a matching pink parasol and lacy gloves. Indi thought she looked like the most expensive birthday cake in a baker’s window; girly and light. “Dot? What do you think?”

Eudora took a long sip of her drink. “Well, it is certainly… pink?” 

“So pink you would drink some to stop a stomach ache.” Tess muttered loud enough for the room to hear.

“What do you know, anyways? Aren’t you blind?” 

”Yeh, but lucky for you my taste works just fine. Leave that dress to collect dust, kid.” 

—

A soft gasp from Eudora was the only sound in the dressing room as Indi walked onto the platform. Tiny jewels in a translucent mesh started just under her collar bone and gathered together before transforming into a pale blue chiffon that draped elegantly to the floor. The long glittering sleeves waved lazily with every movement, and despite herself, Indi couldn’t stop smiling. 

“This is the one.” Indi said confidently. 

“Of course it is.” Eudora joined Indi in front of the mirror and had her spin. “I knew this was the one when I saw it.” 

“Then why have me try on all the others?” 

Eudora shook her head. “It’s a part of the shopping experience, Astar. You have to have enough no’s to know when it is a yes.” 

Indi continued to stare at herself in the mirror, trying to imagine where she would wear such a gown, but a softer internal voice said it didn’t matter. Covered in hundreds of tiny stars, wearing the same color dress as her Ma’s, Indi felt beautiful. 

The taller attendant cleared their throat. “Miss, my assistant has returned with some more suitable clothes for your day to day wear. Whenever you are ready, we would be happy to have this dress brought back to your suite.” 

“Give it a minute, Jean-Luc.” Tess’s voice cut in. “Let her have her moment.” 

The taller attendant frowned, and adjusted their name tag. “As you say.”

—

“As our retail store had no pants that would suit your… style, I went out of my way to create something specifically for you. We found the pair of dungarees from a couple seasons back in the men’s collection and tailored them to your exact size. The shirt is temperature sensitive, so you won’t have to worry about sweat or cold. And the boots are from the Amarosa collection which boasts comfort and a more… muted style.” The shorter assistant backed away slowly after fastening the leather belt around Indi’s waist. “I do hope it is to your liking.” 

Indi looked at herself in the mirror once more. The high collar didn’t suffocate her neck, the black shirt was snug but breathable, and the simple silver lining around her hands added a level of sophistication that Indi wasn’t expecting. The brown overalls were equally comfortable with deep pockets and a belt loop that was perfectly suited for her tool belt. 

“Yes.” Indi said at last. “This is perfect.” Both assistants let out audible sighs, but Eudora looked unconvinced. 

“Are you certain? It looks lovely but, it isn’t much different then what you already had. Wouldn’t you want to… switch it up a bit?” She was choosing her words carefully, but Eudora’s new face couldn’t hide disappointment as well as her old ones. Indi didn’t take it personally. 

Tess’s voice cut in before Indi could reply. “Jean-Luc, didn’t ya’ll get a shipment of those alpaca cloaks three nights ago? Bring ‘er the navy one with the white flowers.” 

The tall assistant’s ears reddened. “Sir, please. My name is Bin. We’ve met before-”

“Go on now, get! Don’t keep the Special Guest waitin.” 

The assistant did as they were told. 

When they returned, Indi was assisted into a navy poncho with small white flowers that danced across the edges. It was a bit large, but Indi liked that the lowest piece draped over her right hip, concealing anything that might be held beneath… like a Daemon gun.  

“There ya go.” Tess said, as she showed off the final look. “A mix of the old and new.” 

“Alright.” Eudora conceded. “As long as you feel comfortable.” 

“I do, Dot. I really do.”

“Then that settles it. Have the dress and five more of those thermal shirts in varying color delivered to Astar’s room. I think one black, two gray, a brown like her eyes, and and-” 

“Dark blue! If that’s alright…”

“Well said. Thank you Bin for your assistance. We have another appointment to get to.”

—

She had been promised pampering and refreshment, but Eudora's version of relaxation was an overstimulating nightmare to Indi. Their “time in paradise” began with a full body massage which required them to dress down and lay across the tables like a winter harvest roast. Eudora seemed to have no trouble at all, allowing complete strangers to dig their oiled fingers into her back, arms, and legs; afterwards, even claiming she fell asleep! Indi thought the experience bizarre, invasive, and not the least bit refreshing, even if they managed to soothe the tension in her left shoulder.

Their massages were followed with facial treatments that scrubbed, scorched, cleansed, and cooled Indi’s pores. She tried to imagine it was Astar drawing creek clay across her face, and the happy memories relaxed her mind a time. But as the seventh rich cream was smeared into her face, all Indi wanted was a cold stream to rinse the oils off. 

Once dressed in her own clothes, Indi had been sat in a chair before an assortment of tools on a small desk. More scrapping, gouging, and filing took place as the attendant did her best to make Indi’s nails uniform; but no treatment would ever soften the calesous of a farmer’s daughter turned ship mechanic. And she was content with that, until Eudora’s attendant began whispering in a language Indi didn’t understand. The two nail designer’s laughed together and Indi felt the bit of confidence she had started to build, waiver and crack. 

“I would rather have hands as hard as hard as rocks, then ones softened by dirty foot water.” Eudora spoke in an icy tone. She followed with a statement that Indi didn’t understand. But, the attendants blushed and hastened their work with silent resolve.

“They forgot to charge us, I think.” Indi let Eudora guide her steps as she continued to marvel at her almost uniform nails. “Should we turn back?”

“To those bitches? No, I think I will be finding a new nail parlor on this moon. Come, we have one more stop.”

—

”So, he said he had a sister but everyone thought Ryder was cheatin’?”

”Well, of course he said she was his sister! But after surveillance footage found them making out, Ryder was forced to come out with the truth.”

“… So, she wasn’t his sister, right?”

“Ew, no! But Ivette was later caught having dinner with Ailwin Crawford, who is very well known to have a huge feud with Ryder, obviously!”

“Obviously.”

“And then! Ryder’s girlfriend-“

”Melyssa?”

”No, Miriah. Miriah announced her new memoir called ‘The See Slug”. Which is such an obvious reference to-“

Indi couldn’t take the overload of ridiculous information anymore and burst into laughter. “Eudora, why do we care?!” 

Her bewildered face made Indi laugh all the more. “Because I am explaining to you why we will never be using Frye beauty products in our hair. This is a very serious business!” But Indi only shook her foiled head and flipped to another Ms. Starlight article on the holographic tablet between them. The new article was titled Mining Company Files for Bankruptcy! and featured an image of a dignified businessman, next to his aged freckled father. “Oh, I know that man.” 

“What!? When?”

”Oh, it was a very long time ago. I was hired to… convince Mr. Wilcox into a contract with my client.” 

“Ah.” Eudora didn’t talk about her past often; the business of secrets seemed so distant from the green eyed woman that smelled like rosewater and sandalwood.  Indi carefully crafted her next words. “At least he isn’t that bad to look at, right?”

Eudora grimaced. “Mr. Wilcox Sr still managed most of the company even into his eighties.” Indi tasted bile in her mouth as the finer details of the old man’s wrinkled, skin tagged face became clearer in her mind. 

“Yuck.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“You must have been paid a fortune to do that!”

“It wasn’t as much as you would hope. Truth is, his secrets were not worth the price I charged. A couple bastard children and a totally avoidable mining accident was all I could gather. But according to my client, that was enough to keep Mr. Wilcox paying in monthly installments just to keep the truth from coming out.” Eudora stared at the article, her eyes unmoving across the page. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

A chill ran up Indi’s spine as she fought the urge to scratch at her scalp. “Dot, how did you know how much a secret was worth? Like, how did you know the value of your information?” 

Eudora’s brow furrowed slightly at the question. “There are a lot of factors. How much did it cost to discover the truth? What use is it to the client? Who could get hurt if the truth was shared? Who could be saved?” 

“Oh.” Was all Indi could muster. That wasn’t an answer that easily answered her real question. 

“Is everything alright, Aster?” No, Indi thought. No, everything is not alright. I don’t know who or what I am anymore, but telling someone could put them in worse danger. I don’t know the cost. I don’t even know the secret I carry. “Astar?”

“Yeah, sorry. A lot has happened since our last stop. It’s hard to process all the pieces at once, that’s all.” Instinctually, Indi braced her mind and prepared for Eudora to wrestle the truth out of her.  

Eudora set her perfectly manicured hand on Indi’s and gave it a squeeze. “I understand. We don’t have to talk about it here, but I will listen, when you need it.” She had said those words in the past, but with them had come a pull; a trap being set, one that Indi would always fall right into. Indi recalled a conversation she had had with Trent. Something about smell, and manipulating emotions. But the chase, the fight to keep from spilling her guts was gone.  All that remained was Eudora’s earnest smile before she turned to another article on the hologram.

Maybe change isn’t always a violent thing.

—

Indi hadn’t stopped looking at the mirror. Her hair had been trimmed and treated, the last inch a dulled purple hue that curled under her chin. And now that the oils had settled into her face, she glowed. The longer Indi stared the more she saw her ma’s eyes, Astar’s nose, Dahlia’s dimples peering back at her. And all she had to do was look down and see her Da’s hands. She felt... 

“Beautiful.” 

Eudora scoffed, but not in an unkind way. “Of course you are. But no oil or cracked nails would change that. Come, it looks like Tess is waiting for you out front.”

They were greeted with a tilt of the hat and an increasingly familiar cheshire smile. 

“Now ladies, don’t mean to cut in on your pamperin’ but our Special Guest does have a meeting and we do run a tight ship round here.”

Eudora smiled at Indi. “I am off for a couple meetings myself. This was amazing… I had a lot of fun! If you need anything, don’t hesitate to-“

Indi’s body moved before her mind, as she wrapped Eudora in a fierce hug. “Thank you Eudora.” She whispered. “Thank you for helping me.” Indi felt Eudora’s arms wrap around her. 

“You are welcome, Indi. Don’t be a stranger, now.”

Stories of the Gold Swarm

Indigo Henson never imagined that her summer project would have branded her an enemy of the Magisterium and forced her into a life of crime. But now, after fixing up the mysterious spaceship and fleeing for her safety, Indi has begun to hear voices coming from wires and watts all around her.

—

“Come on, kid. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” Westley’s deft fingers stole the heal of bread off her plate at lighting speed and held it just out of her reach. “All you gotta do is ask for it!” His eyes shined down at her with amusement. “I bet you can. Go on! Ask me for your bread back!” He whooped when Indigo jumped after her food. Muffled laughter filled the mess hall of the Gold Swarm, and she felt overcome with shame. No matter how hard she tried, she could not stop the tears welling in her eyes. 

 At home, Indigo would have shied away from the cacophonous sounds of communal areas. They had always made her tire easily, and trying to hear everything was the same as hearing nothing at all. The mess hall of the Gold Swarm was no different. The Locusts Gang was a hearty crew of twelve, and while they liked to call themselves a cargo transport ship for hire, their jobs usually involved removing cargo from other ships without permission.  Meals typically included one shouting match but Indigo had a hard time telling when they were serious or in jest. Their voices were so overwhelming she had learned new inconspicuous ways to plug her ears without being too obvious. Indigo left every meal exhausted and ready for a nap. 

But lately the mess hall had been the only way to keep herself sane; human sounds more easily drowned out the other voices. The wishes of machines had begun to file in between her thoughts, reminding her of unfinished tasks and broken pieces to fix. They had started off as quiet as a whisper, but now Indigo heard them as loud as any member of the crew. Even in her dreams, a choir of voices warned her of coolant build up, shot fuses, and wires on the fringe. After she had spent her first night aboard the ship fixing all the lighting, heating, and door access systems in her room, Indigo could still hear the machines talking; to each other, to her, to nothing at all. Regardless of time or place, Indigo heard hundreds of voices between the wires. 

So instead of going mad listening to machines scream about replacement parts, she braved the mess hall whenever she could. It wasn’t always awful. Danika asked her basic questions about her work on the farm. Treph took the time to explain the crew's inside jokes so she wouldn’t feel left out. And Maddox always gave her extra dessert. But for all their kindness, Indigo could not find her voice. Somewhere between Anatolia and wherever the Gold Swarm was headed, Indigo had lost the strength to add another sound to the cacophony around her. Danika was concerned, but when Rosa confirmed it wasn’t due to any illness and probably the result of stress, she let it go. Most of the Locust Crew seemed to understand, giving her space or comfort. But to others her silence was a challenge.

Westley wasn’t malicious, but he was consistent.  At first, he earnesty, telling her she wasn’t in danger anymore and she could speak if she wanted to. When that didn’t work, he made jokes or teased her to get a response. “I bet you don’t even have a tongue Indigo!” or  “If you don’t speak in the next five seconds, that means you’re a liver rat! What do you think of that?!” Once, Westley had even tried to scare her, but instead of making her yelp or swear, he learned how good she could be with a wrench. Now it seemed that Westley had resorted to public mockery to get her to speak. 

Indigo opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again to stop herself from crying. Westley tossed her bread into his other hand and smiled at her encouragingly while the hall continued to bubble around them. In response to her silence, the light switch reported that the bulbs were on, the oxygen system measured at appropriate levels, and the crockpot told her it should be replaced within a fortnight. 

“Westley,” A voice cracked, stilling the buzzing room to silence but the machines continued to tell Indigo their woes. Captain Dakota stood in the doorway to the mess hall, his bright eyes shielded by the shadow of his wide brimmed hat. “We don’t mess with other crewmates' food, you know that.” He nodded curtly, but not unkindly. “Give her back the bread. And yours too, for that matter.” 

“Yes, Captain.” Westley did what he was told without complaint or contempt. That’s how it was on the Gold Swarm. Everyone had a voice to speak their mind, but when Captain Dakota gave a command, every member of the crew listened. When two pieces of bread soaked in her stew bowl Westley said, “I am sorry kid. I was just trying to help.” Indigo did her best to smile and nod. 

“Cut her some slack, Wes,” Captain Dakota said as he set down his bowl and joined the two of them at their table. Indi’s heartbeat jumped into her throat. The captain had never chosen to sit near her before. “She just left her planet for the first time. No one can blame her for being a bit homesick.” He cocked his head at Westley with a smirk. “And who are you to talk? You were moping around the deck of this ship for weeks  after we left Walnut Grove! What was his name again? Virgil?” 

Indigo jumped when Westley slammed down his cup and stood, leaning over the table at the captain who was lazily slurping his stew. “It was Vincent, and you said you wouldn’t tell anyone about that! It was a very vulnerable time for me.” Indigo was certain he was joking, since no one would dare speak to a captain that way. Or at least she hoped no one would… 

Dakota ignored Westley’s outburst. Instead he turned to her and winked. His eyes were the most startling color of blue she had ever seen and the light hair on his face framed his features nicely. “Wes has a ‘manfriend’ at every major station and most of the asteroids in this sector. When we get into ports, be sure to knock on every door before you walk in, just in case.” 

“It was one time Dakota, prophets!” Westley signed in a way that said he wasn’t actually upset. A bit of the tension in Indigo’s shoulders loosened, as she realized that he seemed to be enjoying this weird banter with the captain. She could never imagine being comfortable sharing such private information. “Besides, I have been thinking of settling down a bit. I need to find me a true partner in crime, someone I can build a life with. A Mercutio to my Romeo, if you would!”

Indigo did not understand what he meant, but she smiled when Captain Dakota laughed at him.“Westley, if you stuck to one partner, you’d be personally responsible for the closure of several bawdy houses across the sector and you know it.” 

Westley pretended to take off a hat, and bowed to his captain. “Then forget everything I said, captain. I will continue my personal investments and keep those lovely lads employed until the end of my days.” He sat back down and began to drink deeply out of his mug. 

“What about you?” The captain was talking to her again, but she had not been paying attention to his words. His eyes were patient. His startling blue eyes. “Do you have a ‘partner in crime’ back on Anatolia, Indigo?” Despite his perfect white teeth, he charmingly spoke out of the side of his mouth. 

“No.” For a moment, she did not understand why the entirety of the Locust Gang was suddenly cheering and laughing. The word had escaped her hoarsely, and without any effort at all. Westley had spit out his beer and was feigning disappointment, while Maddox passed her an extra cookie. Treph gave her a fist bump and Rosa and Danika smiled approvingly. Only Veronica looked as confused as Indigo. 

But it didn’t matter, because Captain Dakota was laughing again. “Well June-Bug it's good to know you can speak up when it matters. Oh! I am sorry, is it ok if we call you that? I know it was Astar’s name for ya.” 

Indigo looked around the room. The machines were quieter and she felt a bit more courage looking at Rosa, Danika, Treph, and Maddox smiling. She didn’t have to be alone with her thoughts and the voices of wires; these were Astar’s friends, and they could be hers too. She took a deep breath. 

“The crock pot is gonna die in two weeks so we should probably get a new one.” 

Before Hell Breaks Loose

Indi, young mechanical protege, and Trent, a “reformed” cult member, have always shared a deeper connection. However, saving the universe gives people with few opportunities to address inter relationships; especially when Trent has the emotional bandwidth of a brick wall and Indi understands machines far better than humans. But when the crew of the Innamorata’s next adventure leads them into the Barrens (aka hell), Indi realizes this may be her last chance to speak with her fellow mechanic before all hell breaks loose.

Any words or quotes in italics indicates an unspoken statement and anything in BOLD ALL CAPITALS is from the demon in a gun that Indi holds on her person (he’s not important to the main short story. he’s cool though don’t worry about it…)

Enjoy the tension!!

—

Indi twisted the rose in her left hand as she stalked the halls of the Innamorata. She had known the lighter details of the ritual but it wasn’t until Trent explained its various conditions did the blasphemous act really sink in; chains to power the rites, a ritual master to hold the gate between life and death, a third of the crew kissing death to slip in the Barrens, Daemons waiting for them on the other side. Each detail dragged her deeper into the well of despair that had started to grow deep within her.  

She kept moving. Thoughts of her parents, her siblings, the farm, her home, swirled painfully in her mind. Indi hadn’t seen the farm since before Blackheart. Before the accident. Before Astar sent her with the Locusts, after she helped Terra escape. How long was that? Three years? Five? A lifetime, for sure. How much had it changed in her absence? All because Indi had to play the hero. Had to save Terra. Had to free the girl in the box. Had to save her own skin.

WHY DOES IT HURT SO MUCH?

It wasn’t until her eyes began to blur, did Indi realize she had stopped moving. Brushing away her tears, she continued her search. 

The rose. This was her next task; maybe her last before the ritual. After two days, it had faded from its already lackluster hue, but the petals were still firmly attached and the stem remained a solid green. Indi had hoped to give it to him the night before; partially so that it would look nicer, but mostly, she was exhausted from thinking of ways to present it. Leave it in his personal locker? The engine room? Hand it to him in private or with others around?

And on top of how to give him the rose, what would she even say? “Thank you for risking your life for us again. I will never be able to repay you for what you have given up to join us. Here is a flower that I couldn’t even afford to buy! Also, I never leave my room without your gift in my pocket! Ok, nice talk. Let’s go open up hell.” No, it sounded ridiculous. 

Why did she feel so much pressure, now of all times? Trent was probably exhausted and didn’t need her bothering him with flowers and conversation. He needed rest and lots of it. Indi stalled her steps and looked at the rose again. 

What a poor excuse for a gift, for the person that saved your life with their soul. 

I THINK IT IS PRETTY.

Thanks Daemon. 

It was ridiculous, she had decided. Her determination deflated with a sigh and when Indi turned to go back to the mess hall, her face slammed into his chest as Trent strode directly into her. Indi was on the floor, with Trent apologizing and trying to help her to her feet. But she could not not hear him. The unseen force that held down all of her despairs, anxieties, and uncertainties had broken loose with a single blow. 

She laughed. 

The absurdities of her current life fell around her. She, the daughter of a farmer, was on the most cursed planet in the Californian Sector and about to take part in a heretical ritual to open up hell, so her friend could get his ship’s AI back. And her biggest concern a moment ago was how stupid she was going to sound when she gave a man she liked a flower. And now, he stood over her wide eyed and frozen, as if he had killed her with just his touch. 

It took a moment before Indi composed herself. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” She gasped out, wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. Trent shook his head slightly and crouched down to her level, concern and exhaustion playing equally across his eyes. 

“Are you ok?” Trent said in a tone she had only heard him use with her. It was their preferred way of communicating; words that felt surface level but eyes that ask so much more. The two of them had become quite proficient in their language over the past couple months. 

“Do you need a break?” translated to you look tired, let’s rest. 

“Do you want to go fix those hallway lights in hanger 4?” meant I want to hide away from everyone for a while. Will you join me?

“When are you eating lunch today?” had meant I noticed you haven’t eaten and I am getting concerned.  

“Is your room too cold at night? Maybe we should stay together tonight” was something drunk Indi had said on a particularly lonely night. 

Their shared language had the added bonus of covering any oversteps that they might have made by asking directly. 

Indi spoke. 

I feel better now that you are here.  “I’m fine. Just knocked the jitter bugs out, I guess.” Trent’s face said he wasn’t convinced but he didn’t ask further questions. So Indi returned his question. “Are you ok?” Indi had never seen Trent so exhausted; the truths she was accustomed to digging for, came forth willing. 

No. “Yeah, just worn out.” 

I know there is more, but you don’t have to tell me. I am here. “I understand.”

There was silence as he searched for his response, and as the seconds stretched on Indi became acutely aware of how close he was to her. The smell of his clothes reminded her of quiet hours fixing machinery, working in tandem without a word shared.  His stubble was starting to grow more over his cheeks, jaw, and around his mouth. Indi felt his eyes watching her, and as she met his intense stare, her cheeks grew warm. 

Trent opened his mouth to finally respond but Indi’s left hand appeared amidst their gaze, the rose in between their noses.  

“I got this for you.” The words struck a chord in their silence. Like a bell, it’s vibrations echoed across them. Trent’s shock reached his face, but the extended quiet was too much for her to take. “I thought it might help with the ritual. A priest back home had a sermon about Sloan Byron… when she went into the Barrens to retrieve the Apostle Malcomb! She was wearing a rose to remind her that she came from this side of the Barrens.” Indi paused, but only for a moment. “Thinkin’ on it now, I recall the church having a rose garden so maybe it was just a story to make a quick profit but I figured it might help a little bit! Remind you that you need to stay on the side of the gate that smells like roses.” Indi wasn’t sure where the words came from but when they began to fail, Trent’s eyes did not. 

I cannot accept this. 

You have to, I am giving it to you freely. 

I won’t be able to protect it. 

It is meant to protect YOU.

I am not worthy of its protection.

You are taking the rose. 

I am not-

“You are bleeding.” Trent’s hand was suddenly holding her’s, the rose falling to the floor once again. A small cut on her finger, brought by gripping the stem too harshly in their collision, had started to bleed. Trent slung the bag from his shoulder onto the ground in front of him and riffled through until he found what he was looking for, never once letting go of her hand. His grip was strong, but not in a way that made her want to pull away. With all the focus of a man avoiding another matter entirely, Trent began to bandage her barely bleeding finger with expert concentration. 

“What do you think, Dr. Trent? Am I going to make it?” Indi said it lightheartedly, but he did not respond. “Trent?” She leaned closer to him, her breathe lightly caressing his cheek. “Trent.” Their eyes met; his thoughts freely available to only her. I do not want to hurt you.  “It is just a thorn. I am not gonna bleed out. I promise.” 

“I should have been paying more attention.” He whispered. 

“Me too.” Her finger was sufficiently bandaged, but she didn’t pull away. Indi continued to study his face as he studied hers. She found herself trying to memorize every detail, and she felt he was doing the same. This is dangerous, Indi knew. She was holding her breath, and despite the hum of electronic voices around them, her heartbeat was all she could hear. 

I would walk into the Barrens if you asked me. 

I would never ask you to join me in the Barrens.

Trent, that is not what I am saying. I would follow you into hell without a second thought, you just need to ask. 

I wish you wouldn’t. 

We might die tonight. What are you waiting for?

What if…

 Exactly, what if!?

I am...

Me too.

WHAT IS THIS FEELING? 

Indi flinched at the sound of Daemon’s voice, and the moment was lost. Her eyes fell to her right arm, taking in the breath she had been holding. When she looked back, invisible walls had rebuilt themselves and once again Trent had closed off his inner thoughts. Even to her. 

He held out a hand and with ease lifted her to her feet. They stood awkwardly. Indi wondered when her heartbeat would stop being so loud and when her cheeks would finally cool. Thankfully, Trent broke the silence. 

“Listen, I have to-”

“Yeah! Me too.” Indi laughed a little too loud and quick, her face burned hard as her mind drew a blank on what to say. “I also should… uhm. Go do… something!” She furrowed her brows and looked down at the floor. 

“Yeah…” Trent said with his usual brick wall charisma. “I’ll let you know when it is almost time for the ritual. You should rest.” 

Indi nodded. The ritual. The Barrens. The rose! She scooped up the flower in her right hand, and tucked it into Trent’s shirt pocket without a word. She had pulled the pin on a grenade, their silence held the leaver. He stared at her as she stepped back. She smiled at him. For only a moment, it seemed to her that Trent waivered. He almost took a step towards her, almost reached out.

But he grabbed his bag and strode quickly past her. 

“Trent?” He paused, but didn’t turn. “You have traveled with this crew long enough to know that we don’t mind taking a few stops along the way to our next destinations. Jailbreaks. Spider moons. Train heists.” Trent remained still. “But I would prefer this to be my only trip near this close to the Barrens. So don’t… don’t make me come after you. Because if you end up on the wrong side of the gate, I’ll rip a new hole into the barrens and drag you out. I still owe you a debt, and I’m not talking about the money. You spent something to save me on Junction Station, it will not go unpaid.”

Indi didn’t know if he turned around at that. She left, and walked back to the mess hall. 

Tiger Hunt

Modern Day Shadowrun version of myself needs to let off a bit of steam after a trip into the backrooms (don’t ask). But if you know anything about Cyberpunk, you know that these stories almost never have a happy ending.

Trigger Warning: Unspecified things happening to unconscious men, women, and children.

—

Characters

Kat/The Tiger - The street samurai version of your truly

H.O.P.E. - an AI version of my best friend that helps me on missions

Tristan- a “fixer” for showrunners, matches runner’s with suitable jobs

—

T: Yo! It’s been months. What have you been up to?

K: You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Tryss I’ve got the night off and I am looking to pick up a shift. You got anything for me?

T: For my Underlings? Anything. I got quite a few jobs that would love a group of- 

K: Just me tonight. Others are… busy. 

T: Oh? Well alright then let's see…

K: I don’t care about big payouts. Just need something to do on my night off.

T:  …You ever heard of a hobby? 

K: I could ask you the same thing. 

T: This is my day job. You’ve got a day job as a celebrity, a shop, a bending team, and a night job at how old?

K: Twenty five.

T: … ‘98 right? That makes you twenty four years old. 

K: …

T: … 

K: …

T: Tiger, you still there? 

K: Yeah, sorry. Been a bit busy, hard to track of something like that i guess.

T: Are you sure you want to work tonight? I would appreciate a job done but honestly I can ping someone else if you aren’t up for it. 

K: No, I am good. Just looking for something simple tonight. Return to the roots, you no?

T: Sure.. I got something easy tonight. This dudes been breathing down my crack since he sent it in. 

K: What are we looking at? I am not really in the mood to flatline someone.

T: Simple, no large payout, no flatline, since when did you get to be so picky? Anyways, no. All the client is asking is for a bit of rough housing. Teach a lesson.

K: And he doesn’t do it himself…

T: If everyone could do what you do, you wouldn’t have a job. Do you want your credits or not?

K: Whose the target?

T: Colben Cristover. 34. Male. Elven qualities picked up from the awakening. Lives in Old Indy, near the tracks. 

K: Simple enough.  Anything else I should know?

T: I did some digging on Colben. Pretty clean record. He works as a paramedic for Riverview, recently got promoted to “Ultra Care” unit for the hospital's high value clients. 

K: Hmmm. That have anything to do with the hit? 

T: Client confidentiality. All you gotta do is find Colben Cristover and shake him up a little bit. Send proof to the client and cha Ching. It’s payday. 

K: Ha ha alright. One shake down coming right up. 

T: Later tiger.

K: Later. 

—

“Are you done pissing yourself?”  The Tiger’s voice modulator mused through the mask in a rumbling tone. Sneaking in had been far too easy, she even had H.O.P.E. do an intensive scan of the apartment, but the AI found nothing. No traps. No alarms. Just a sad man in his boxers. 

“Please don’t kill me.” Colben whimpered; he really was pathetic. His face was due for a shave eight days ago, his eyes were bloodshot from long hours of VR, hot sauce dribbled on his boxers, and he was in dire need of deodorant. Colben Cristover was a miserable sight to behold. 

“If I was here to kill you, I would have done so when you were plugged in, Colben.” The elf’s eyes widened at his name. He reeled backwards on the floor and threw the first thing that he could grab. An empty bottle arched across the room and collided with a thunk against The Tiger’s chest plate. She watched it bounce off of her and smash across the dusty floor. An extended silence filled the space between them. 

“Look, you throw another bottle, we are gonna have a real issue.” Colben removed his hand from under the bed.  “Let’s chat for a second, then we will get to why I am here.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“No one does, Colben.” The Tiger muttered. With casual ease, she pulled out two cheap beers from the fridge, rolled a bottle to Coben’s feet and opened hers without a word. A plate in front of her mouth opened, revealing her lips. She stared at him, waiting a few moments before the elven man opened his as well. They each took a drink. “Now, why do you think I am here?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Come on man. The longer we drag this out the less amount of time I’ll have to beat the shit out of you. Entertain me.”

H.O.P.E.: Kat, I found something.

Kat: Is it an emergency signal?

H.O.P.E.: No… but I still think you should see.

Kat: Ok, in a moment.

Colben licked his chapped lips a couple times before answering. “You aren’t here to kill me… so someone must be paying you to h-hurt… to teach me a lesson?” 

“Bingo! So, what sort of lesson do you need to be taught?”

“Uhhhh….” Colben fumbled and refused to look back at the tiger mask.The Tiger grabbed a chair, flipped it around so the back was facing Colben before straddling it to sit down.  

“I heard you got promoted recently. Many people going after that position in Ultra Care?” She sipped loudly from the bottle.

“No…not really. It barely counts as a promotion, more like a lateral adjustment within the company. They needed an extra person on patrols...” 

“Hmmm… Anything interesting happened since you got the job?”

“Why do you care anyways?” Colben suddenly found his voice. “Is this how you get off? By dragging out an interrogation, lulling me into a false sense of security, and then beatin’ me up when I least expect it?”

“This isn’t an interrogation, Colben. This is a conversation. Besides, I am a curious Kat. I want to know how much I should beat the shit out of you since my client wasn’t too keen on the details.”

The sound of cars, trucks, and hover craft echoed outside the apartment window. The air felt thick and full, rain ready to drop at any moment. The world hung on the edge of a suspected storm. 

Surprisingly, Colben was the first to speak. “So, you really don’t know why they hired you?”

“Nope! Not a clue. So indulge me, Colben. Why do I need to beat up the newest Ultra Care paramedic?”

H.O.P.E.: Kat.

Kat: Yes, Hope I know. Come’on let me work a little.

H.O.P.E.: You should really... 

Kat: Hope, if it isn’t an emergency ping or a missile coming our way I am sure it can wait.

“I uhhh… last weekend. We got an emergency signal from a guy in our Premium Ultra Care package. His heart rate suddenly spiked and he was clearly in some sort of distress so we acted immediately. Upon arrival, it was clearly a misunderstanding. The gentleman was fine, but his daughter was crying, screaming due to a broken arm from a fall. She wasn’t dying or anything, just a lot of pain. Probably the first bone she’s ever broken by her reaction...” Colben took a sip of his beer. “Unfortunately, the only patient on the Ultra Care package was the father, he never upgraded his family's care plan, so his daughter had to wait for the Choice Care paramedics to arrive. They were only five minutes out, but the entire time the father wouldn’t stop raging at us for doing nothing. I tried to explain that we could lose our licenses if we helped a non Ultra Care client but he was too worried about his daughter to hear. And I can’t blame him. For what it’s worth, I really wanted to help the kid. I hate the current healthcare system as much as the next person, but if I act out, I get a pretty hefty fine taken out of my paycheck.”

The Tiger mask vibrated with the sound of a modulated hum. “Didn’t know that. How much do they take out?”

“All of it. For two pay periods.”

“Damn.”

“Yep. I wanted to become a paramedic to help people, but now my job is to watch people suffer and wait for medical assistance they probably will never recover financially from.”

The Tiger didn’t respond. She didn’t have a response. She knew her job as a Runner has never been about enacting justice; it was always a job and some credits. So why did it never bother her until right now? Why was this pathetic piece of shit deserving pain when he had done everything right?

H.O.P.E.: Kat.

Kat: Not now.

Colben coughed quietly. “Do you have to beat me up?”

“Yes.” The Tiger said after some hesitation. Tears began to well in Colben’s eyes. He started shaking. 

“Please, I didn’t… I didn’t want to leave the kid. Can’t you just tell him you did it anyways? Please, I can’t afford to not work tomorrow.”

“Look, you’ve got two choices. Choice A is to deal with me. I will pull my punches, hit you where it will hurt less, but bruises more. Make you look worse than it is. You’ll be in pain but you can work and rest easy knowing the job is finished. OR… Choice B is that I leave. And for the next couple days you pray that the next runner who picks up this job doesn’t enjoy breaking finger nails and playing with their targets. So what will it be Mr. Cristover? Want my mercy or are you going to hope that the next Shadow runner hasn’t also been fucked by the Health Care System?”

H.O.P.E.: Kat, I really think...

Kat: *mute on*

The Tiger thought he was thinking too hard. There was only one logical choice, but it took Colben more than a minute before he signed. “Fine, but before you get started, mind if I make a phone call?”

The Tiger snorted. “Wha? So the cops can come get me while I am kicking you in? I don’t think so, bud.”

“No, I was going to call my own ambulance.That way once you are done they will be here soon… relatively.”

“You work for Riverview and you don’t automatically qualify for Premium Ultra Care insurance?”

“Can’t afford it. And I would rather not bleed all over my apartment for 20 minutes waiting for them… And since you are being so generous…  can I ask one more favor?”

“I guess?”

Colben smiled sheepishly. “When you are done, can you drag my body downstairs to the lobby? I don’t need my coworkers to see how ruined my apartment is, and I also can’t afford the cost of them having to go up all those stairs to get me. You would save me about 500 credits.”

“God, what the fuck is system!”

—

Kat: *mute off*

Kat: Look, I know it's been a while since we did a job, but Hope you need to lay off the communications when I am trying to learn a target’s tragic backstory! 

H.O.P.E.: You are going to regret not going harder on him. 

Kat: Oh come on. You and I both know I just needed to let off some steam tonight. If I need to punch something harder I can go to the Bending arena later. 

H.O.P.E.: I did some scans on his tech while you were having fun talking...

Kat: ... Ok? What did you find?

H.O.P.E.: You don’t want to see it. 

Kat: Hope stop being so ominous and let me see it. Is it some new fantasy on the...

H.O.P.E.: ...

Kat: ...

Kat: This is why he doesn’t want anyone snooping around his apartment.

H.O.P.E.: Yep. He had you move his body so his room and tech wouldn’t be part of a crime scene. He got away with a broken nose and a couple bruises.  

Kat: I am going to kill him. 

—--

T: Kat. What the fuck happened?

K: Sorry, Tryss. You would have done the same.

T: Actually, I would have just done my fucking job! Now, I look like a Fixer who sends out my big dogs for little baby missions. This takes a toll on my credibility and yours! 

K: I did the job Tryss. Isn’t the client happy with that?
T: Well yeh, he is overjoyed that his 750 credits could get him so much damage. “Colben Cristover is in critical condition with a warrant for his arrest as soon as he wakes up.” That’s pretty incredible stuff... stuff we aren’t getting paid for, let me remind you!

K: Look I said I was sorry. I did the job just fine, in fact I went easy on him at first, but H.O.P.E. found something. I had to turn around and finish the job. 

T: We are all on the edge of our seats to figure out what would cause you to do more than paid for.

K: ...

T: ...

K: ...

T: hmmm.

K: H.O.P.E. only scratched the surface but she found over 10 terabytes of this shit. Men, women, children. Unconscious and unawares. He went for the Ultra Premium Care position because those are the people who can regularly afford anesthetics and can be put under. So they wouldn’t know what he was doing. 

T: hmmm.

K: I took the evidence straight to the cops. If... once he awakens, he will be in custody for the rest of his life. 

T: ...

T: Kat, I am happy you did the right thing. I mean, this is a huge deal and I don’t want to take away that fact. But you did all this work for free. This could have easily been a multi million dollar operation and you did it for 650 credits.

K: I thought it was 750?

T: Finders fee, but I figured you wouldn’t notice since you aren’t “interested in the credits”.

K: Fine, 650. 

T: I am not trying to discredit the amazing deed you did. I am glad it was you on that mission who gave a fuck enough to turn over Colben. What I am saying is that I am positive there are a number of contacts out there that could have gotten us both mega credits if we had taken the time to find the contacts before reporting directly to the police. You got me?

K: Yeh I got it.

T: Alright. I got nothing else for you tonight. I’ll send over your credits once the client gets back to me.

K: Ok.

T: ... Good job Kat.

K: G’night, Tristan.

One Choice

“IF UR HHAD TEH CHAHNCE TO CHAHNGGED UR FAAEETE, WOUUULLD YA?”

What if Minlara never left the Cavern World? What if she stayed at home, and did her family duty? What if she never signed the warlock pact with her grandfather? This exercise gets to the core of your character by asking “who is your character without their adventures?”

—

“No.” Her voice was swallowed by the darkness. When the voice she had come to hate did not respond, she spoke again, louder. It felt good to defy the disembodied voice stuck between her ears but that did not stop her hands from shaking.

“What was that?” The words echoed deep within every crevice in her mind. She tucked her knees in closer to her chest and closed her eyes to avoid the tears from spilling. It had never given her it’s name, only that it wished to help her, guide her, and show her her destiny. And it had been nothing but trouble. Stealing a book for a ritual ended her in detention for the rest of the semester. Trampling Father’s garden only for him to yell at her. He had never raised his voice at her before. But the worst offense? In her greatest proof of loyalty yet, she had cast her great great great grandfather’s brooch into a flame. Only after it left her hands did she realize her mistake. Nothing could ever replace it, and no amount of power or destiny would ever make up for the look of grief that had crossed Mother’s face when she discovered what had happened.

She knew her parents were trying to get her help, but every hush, concerned look, and raised brow only borrowed her guilt deeper. Her father had said it himself while in his fit of furry. He couldn’t recognize his little girl anymore. 

How many more trials of faith would it take? How much more hurt must she do to her parents? Why wouldn’t this voice just explain itself? She felt a hot flash of anger that began to break apart her cold tight fear. No more. Minlara was finished.

“I said no!” Courage against the voice began to bloom in her chest as her anger burned brighter. “I don’t want to keep helping you! All you do is hurt my family and I am tired. Hasn’t this been enough for you? Haven’t I done enough for you?”

The voice chuckled, its deep hum rumbling near the base of her skull. “I will decide when it is enough. Now my dear, tomorrow I need you to-“ 

“No!” The courage had spread and she took to her feet. “I said I am done! Now leave me alone!” 

“Minlara, you are being unreason-“. 

“I don’t even know who you are!” She screamed. “I want you to go away and leave me alone!” It would never leave her, and she knew that. But it felt good to scream. It felt good to overpower the voice with her own.

“Minlara if you would only listen-”

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

She screamed. She screamed to drown out the voice. To drown out the shame.

She screamed so loud, the voice could not warn against repeatedly slamming her back against the cave wall.

She screamed so loud, the voice could not tell his great granddaughter to watch out for the falling rocks.

She screamed, until a piece of the ceiling forced her to stop. 

—

“Minlara! Your sister is here!” 

Minlara jolted awake, feeling the residue of ink plastered on her face. Another ritual diagram ruined by an ill timed nap. She tore up the parchment and tried to ignore the salty droplets that had bled through onto the other papers. She wiped her eyes, stretched her tight shoulders and stood, taking a moment to let the blood return back to her legs. She hated that dream. Memory? Hardly made a difference now that she was awake. That is what she told herself at least once a month. Better than over two times a night, right? 

“Minlara! Did you hear me?”

“Yes, mom, I heard you. I’ll be right out, I promise.” Minlara winced as she stepped her way over to a looking glass.  She hadn’t forgotten Calcia’s visit, only lost track of time. As she fixed her hair, she prepared herself for her sister’s arrival. 

It had been a little over a year since her sister had left home and Minlara thought of her everyday. According to the frequent letters she sent, Calcia had met quite a few friends, started her own guild even. Minlara had combed through each letter over a dozen times, gleaming every bit of adventure she could from the delicate handwriting of her sister. Sometimes, right before bed she would imagine herself there next to Calcia. The two of them fighting off assassins, exploring dungeons, and laughing all the way. But when the dawn came and reality set in, Minlara knew she was where she was meant to be. 

While Calcia was traveling, Minlara had been spending her decades in classrooms and libraries, studying the essence of magic. All her professors said she had natural talent, but she always fell short when it came to trials and tests. The stress of performing caused all the knowledge in her brain to fade. Like she was trapped, and the knowledge was just out of reach. Or the weight of the pressure in the room caved in on her, and she would have to stop early to make the feeling go away. 

Her professors suggested a study group for many years. “Practice with each other and lean on one another for guidance.” That was another aspect where she fell short. It wasn’t that she disliked her peers. They just didn’t see things like she did. Each of them had a goal. A limit. To become a professor, to help the community, to start adventuring like Calcia. But Minlara didn’t know what she wanted. Magic came naturally, so she followed magic wherever it went. It was what she was meant to do. 

When she heard the entrance door down the hall open with a thud, Minlara couldn’t wait to finish fixing herself. She swung open the study door, tripped on her sleeping feet, and blinded herself on a body in her path. Minlara looked up, already greeting her sister, but she was met with a different face. Half elvish features with blue scales on his cheeks and hands. Boyish, but strong. And just as confused as her. Minlara couldn’t help but stare. Where have you been? 

“Hey.” She said dumbly. Do I always sound like that? 

“Hey.” Where did she know that voice? It was familiar. A dream? He frowned for a moment. Did he feel this too?  “You got something there.”  He reached up and wiped the dried ink from her face.  “There.” His hand dropped. A silence filled the space between them. I have known you. Where have you been? 

“Minlara!” Calcia firmly embraced Minlara, and time returned to its normal pace. Has the world always moved this quickly? “I see you have met Ezra. He is the one I was telling you about! Did you get all my letters?”

Calcia hooked Minlara’s arm and began walking towards the dining room, leaving Ezra in the hallway, alone and examining his hand.

—

By the time dinner was served, Calcia had introduced her other companions properly and told a dozen or more of their tales. 

Kension Riowhichi, an extremly skilled fighter from a distant land who, when not shaking the table with his laughter or shamelessly flirting with Minlara’s mother, appeared to fade back into quiet thought. Minlara wondered where he went in those quiet moments, and what he hoped to find there. 

There was Alec Thane. A boisterous man child, who clearly never had a mother that loved him enough to teach him any manners. The pity Minlara felt was quickly dashed after he made a sly comment in her direction.  

And of course, she was officially introduced to Ezra Drake. A half-dragon with the posture of any high born, and the mouth of a pit fighter.  

Minlara tried not to study each of them too closely. She found it most difficult with Ezra. 

When she couldn’t take another distasteful comment from Alec, Minlara took a sip of wine, and spoke softly in elvish. “Sister, do all topsiders speak every mindless thought that passes their brains? Or is it just your friends?” 

Minlara’s parents stopped eating, stunned at her rudeness. To speak a language not know to all guests is disrespectful.

“My apologies.” The Munkirdane’s all turned as Ezra spoke in Elvish. “Our companion is useful in a fight, but not so much at the family dinner table.” He smiled. His elvish was quiet. It was confident. It was familiar in a way she could not explain. And Minlara wanted to hear more. 

“Where did you learn the tongue?” 

“My mother. She is from Eldicarin”

“Eldicarin? Does your father live there too?”

He chuckled. “No, he lives near the Twisted Scragg.”

“The Twisted Scragg?” Minlara fumbled over the words in elvish. “Is that where you learned to fight then?” 

“Minlara, it is not polite to have a private conversations in front of our other guests.” Minlara’s mother spoke in the common tongue. Alec and Kension’s eyes bounced between Minlara and Ezra. She had forgotten they were there.

“My apologies. I wanted to ask my sister about more of your adventures, but didn’t realize not everyone spoke the tongue. It was rude. I am sorry.” 

She was laying it on thick, but she knew her parents preferred extreme politeness over a guest’s wounded pride. Before her parents could correct her, Calcia began telling another story from their adventures. Minlara and Ezra’s eyes met a couple times more, and she swore she saw him wink once. 

—

Even through dessert, there were more stories to tell and when their parents had gone to bed, the Band of the Bloody Stars and Minlara snuck quietly into the meeting room to continue their tales over hot chocolate and tea. 

Minlara soaked up every adventure, every joke, every word. By the time it was her turn to speak, she realized how little she actually had to say.

“Well, I am at the top five of my class at Vazmyr’s Academy, I am on track to finish within the next 15 years.” 

Was that it? After all these hours of tales, all I had to show for myself was a sentence?

“Fifteen years?!” Ezra swore. 

“Yes, fifteen more years.” Minlara couldn’t help but laugh. It really was a ridiculous thought.

“What are you studying that takes that much time?” Alec spoke up.

Minlara paused before answering. “To be honest, I am not sure. Like Calcia I have always had a deep connection with the arcane, but I still haven’t found my niche. There are so many possibilities, it’s almost impossible to decide.” 

”You can learn a lot from books and scrolls, but the best education is found outside of a study hall.” Minlara had thought Kension had drifted off, but now it seemed the entire room had its eyes on her.  

“But how can you know what you are looking for if you don’t know what is out there?” 

“You don’t.” Calcia was the one to respond this time. “But no library yesterday, today, or tomorrow will be able to contain knowledge on everything arcane about this world.” She was smiling but her words seemed to cut something deep inside Minlara. What she heard was, No matter how hard you study, you will always be behind. I will always know more because I have left, and you have stayed. 

“Did your great grandfather tell you that?” The words came out bitter, and the room quickly soured.  What am I doing? 

Calcia’s smile dropped. She took her time to respond. “Minlara, he is your great grandfather too.”

“No. No he isn’t.” The life that had once filled the space between had been broken and soured. Why am I like this? She is only Beloved because I chose not to be. It is not her fault, and now I have hurt her infront of her band. No wonder I don’t have friends like these. 

A single voice cracked through her spiraling mind. “You should come with us sometime.” Declared Ezra. “It would do you some good to get out of these caves.” 

Before she could jump to say yes, before she could smile and apologize for her attitude, before Minlara could thank him for just a single chance at regaining her destiny, Calcia jumped in a heartbeat quicker.

“No way! Minlara doesn’t have an adventuring bone in her body! She’s much too comfortable with her books and her studies. I tried years before I left and I always got the same answer. ‘You, Calcia, will find your greatest adventures on the surface world and I will find them in great books.’ The one time I DID convince her, she ended up crying the whole time!” Calcia turned to Minlara. “That moment made me realize you were right all along. I am meant for the great adventures and she is meant for the great books. Right, Minlara?”

Calcia smiled at her. Smiled. And despite the cold anger that had started to pool in her stomach, despite the tightening in her throat, Minlara knew Calcia was right. No matter how much she regretted it, she could not ask for her destiny back. She had given it up, forever. So even as her mind screamed at her to run away with them, to turn to Ezra and tell him yes, to embrace her lost destiny… Minlara gave her best grin to her sister.

“She’s right. What is fifteen more years in my life? Besides, I wouldn’t want to ruin my boots. ” She had meant the last part to be a joke, but found no humor in her voice. Bad actor. Bad friend. Bad sister. After a sustained pause she thanked the half-dragon. “Thank you, Ezra. For your offer.”

He smiled directly at her. He knows I am lying.  “Of course Minlara. Anytime.” He paused as well. Again time slowed. If he asked me again, I would say yes. Please ask me again. “Did Calcia ever tell you about how we had to save her from an Ethonian peacock attack?”

The room once again filled with life as Calcia screeched. “ You will NOT tell my sister this story!” As Ezra began the tale, she moved to hit him. The room roared with laughter as he continued the story, expertly dodging her strikes, as she too laughed. 

And in that moment, while she smiled outwardly, Minlara felt all the crushing misery that she had pushed away for decades. This feeling often found her in the dark libraries late at night, or in her early morning exams, when she could go hours without anyone speaking her name. This feeling carved an agonizing pit into her heart. It was yearning harmonized with years of guilt at every useless late study night. It was furry for having convinced herself that the easiest path would have been the one to make her the happiest. And it was sorrow at the loss of life she could have been living. A life she had told a voice long ago that she did not want. Minlara had chosen to give up her destiny, and now she could do nothing but smile as Ezra continued his story and held Calcia’s fists as she tried to kick him. She could only watch as Kension and Alex exchanged useless bets with smiles on their faces. Loneliness ate deep into Minlara’s soul as she watched them and found herself regretting every step she had taken thus far that had not led her to them. This group of friends she could count on. This was her lost destiny. As she laughed at one of their jokes, with a plastered smile on her face, she could think of only one thing. 

Oh, what she would give to be the beloved.

Through Another’s Eyes

Prompt: Write about one of your original characters from the perspective of another one of your original characters.

—

The fog within the crystal orb churned, its ethereal tendrils whipped against the glass before settling on the visage of the Yowling Wave. The sea slapped against the dragon turtle's skeleton, its sail lightly tugging the embellished corpus along in the dim light of dawn.

Minlara watched under moonlight as the orb refined its focus to the helm of the ship. There stood a mop of wild orange hair forced under a battered tricorn hat, a large yellowing tunic whose top five button’s remained unfastened, traveler’s pants and boots so metallic, they looked dipped in gold.

As Minlara willed the image closer, she was able to make out sharp cheekbones, an arching nose covered in sunspots and freckles, and the namesake green eyes. She was not beautiful, and would never be considered as such. An amalgamation of elvish, human, halfling, and scale folk features all fought for equal shares of her face, and even though her crystals could not simulate scent, Minlara imagined a concoction of salt, sweat, and piss following the captain like a plague.

An eruption of movement from the captain, forced Minlara to abruptly shift the orb's perspective. With a quickness not unlike Ezra’s, the wild haired girl leapt, scrambled, and twisted her way through rigging and post to the crow’s nest of the Yowling Wave. Once within the basket at the height of the ship, she leaned towards the quickly appearing sun. Her breath rose and fell with the sea, her body softly rocked by her greatest joy and fear. With a soft exhale, she closed her bright green eyes.

The sun peeked over the horizon and rested onto the captain’s face. That is when Minlara saw it. The halfling’s nose. The elves' cheeks. The human’s jaw line. The kenku’s height. The half elves’ dimples. The toothy grin, inspired by a smile that Minlara saw almost everyday. Emerald Bells of Jeoffer’s face displayed the coalition of the Hand of the Bloody Stars, and through her, they never left the security of the Yowling Wave. Or their Captain’s side.

When she did open her eyes, the cat-like slits looked at the sun as if to pounce on a fat rat. The Captain was ready for the new day, her smile screaming, “Do your worst.”

Minlara could not help but grin with the girl, the dimness of her study now illuminated with the sun that shone halfway across the world.

Do your worst, Emerald. This sundered world will need more smiles like yours.

The Crows Nest

Emerarld Bells of Jeoffer (a level 20 pirate) monologues to a mute child about her last days on Ellecrid and how she hopes to live her new modern day life to the fullest.

This was inspired by a chapter in the Witcher book series by Andrzej Sapkowski, wherein Geralt speaks with a mute holy woman in a very ‘therapist session’ way. It is one of my favorite solo standing chapters in all of literature.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of suicide, gun violence, and death.

—

Characters

Emerald Bells of Jeoffer - Cat-folk, Swashbuckler Gun Slinger, was reborn in a modern day setting to give her soul peace

Mal - 6 years old, was an adult shadow runner but was changed into a mute child

Seige - demigod? angel? god? God? co-owner of Brennen’s in NOLA.

—

“Oh, I see my old hiding spot has been revealed. Need some company tonight my smallest sailor?” A smile and a shifting of sitting arrangements is her answer. As her eyes turn back towards the stars, a soft sigh leaves her. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my job at the restaurant, but damn, nothing beats this.” She taps the wood beneath her. “She’s quiet, just the sails, splashing waves, and creaking wood. Not a sound, but she’s faster than any on the water.

“I made her, ya’ know? Well, not I. I only procured the materials. Found her alone, in the open ocean, not a soul to command her. Don’t give me that look, it’s the truth! Well, yes it was I that persuaded the captain to leave but he never really knew what he was doing anyways. What captain listens to an erratic, 3ft tall tabaxi with no prior sailing experience?”  She pulls a corked bottle from her bag. “But I did help defeat the dragon turtle that became her hull and deck. That monstrosity was like none else. You should have seen my bosses face when we came up with that trophy. You’d think he was actually impressed!” With a thunk the top of the bottle is off. She takes a deep gulp.

“He was a strange one. A blue half dragon, four wings, breath of lightning and fire, quick as the devil, and almost as fast as me! And he was smart. Or at least he knew how to act like it. He’s the one that gave me this hat, and my title of Admiral of the Band of the Bloody Stars.” A sigh. “He’s also the one that eventually took it away. I never understood why he chose me for the job in the first place. I mean, I know I’ve got the fastest boat on all the seas, but I’m not the best at leading men to their deaths. When he first offered me the job, you know what I did? I ran. I ran as far and as fast as I could. Scared my crew half to death, but I didn’t care, I had to get away from the responsibilities I felt forced upon me. I wanted to be a sailor at that point, but I had little understanding of what it meant to be a captain. 

“That night I didn’t sleep, and it was the first time I took off these boots since I got them. I wanted to be alone, but I wasn't. Our friend, Reese, watched over me all night long, made sure I was safe. He helped me reach a conclusion, no matter how wrong it ended up being. After that I figured, it’s not about how many I could lead to their deaths, it’s about those that would follow in after me.” A swig of ale.

“I’m glad Reese got another go at this. He didn’t deserve what happened to him in that bloody monastery. Earning your redemptions, just to lose yourself entirely for almost 3 years? The god of fate on Ellecrid must be cruel bastard.” A swig of ale.

“Not like they’re much kinder on Earth, from what I’ve heard. Your friends, and all. Yeah, Seig and Merc mentioned it briefly, just that you are the way you are and there is no real news of your old teammates. It reeks, doesn’t it? You’re here, safe, but you can’t help thinking of them. I understand that feeling. I do! Did you want a swig? Come on, I won’t tell Sig. That a boy.

“Yes, the gods can be cruel. I didn’t always look like this ya know? I used to be about your height, furry all over, face full of whiskers, and if I am being fully transparent, all I wore was a belt for my sword, a hat, and my boots here. And to top it all off, I fell for a human boy, my childhood best friend. I was a mess. You can’t have a tabaxi with a human, that’s just strange! Don’t give me that look, the current age of Earth is a lot more progressive than the time I was on Ellecrid!  

“Anyways, you cash a couple favors, and BOOM! Human! Well, as human as a favor could buy me. By becoming more humanoid, I could spend my life with Draken, him the most fearsome Pirate of the skies and I, the queen of the seas. But as I said before, the gods can be cruel. My life span quadrupled, and it took me too long to realize what that meant. He would die, and I would live long after.” A deep gulp and sigh, as she leans her head against the wooden barrel. 

“I think my extended years doomed me, kid. Whoever wishes for immortality is a daft fool. You change too much for it to be considered one lifetime, and to top it all off, you have the joyless privilege of watching the ones you care about most, leave you behind.

“It wasn’t the first time he left me, ya know. When we were kids in Jeoffer, he promised me. ‘It’s you and me Em! Once we gather the coin, we’ll make it out of this grimy old city and face the seas head on!’ And then, he was just gone. No word. No notes. Just gone. I thought for sure he had been killed or jailed, but with all the charges on his head they would have made it more public. After those theories were squashed, then came the worst thoughts of all, maybe he forgot about me. The small scruffy cat girl with little but a pocket knife to her name. Maybe it’s possible to care for someone with your whole being, but for them to not feel the same. Found out later that was the same but still, when I saw him many years later the first thing I did was stab his boots.” A long sip of drink.

“Even after Cardinal gave me the news, I expected a signal. A letter. A sign. Something that let me know he wasn’t actually gone, only in hiding or lost. There were many evenings I would look at the stars and hope to see his ship passing over. In my dreams, he would sweep me off my feet and take me to the secret hideout he had been building for us and we would live there as rich as kings for the rest of our days. But nothing. He was gone, for good this time. Not even a piece of him survived. Now all I have is this.” A dulled ruby cut in the shape of a heart, strung on a silver chain, is tucked back under her shirt. A deep gulp and sigh.

“I think Tia’s shocked me the most. I didn’t know her as well as I wish I had, in our past. She was loud, stuck up, never had to want for anything, other than her freedom, in her childhood. One of the best bard’s I’ve ever known though, and she doesn’t need the magical instruments or the weave to assist her, those were just bonuses. She started her own band, made her own music, created a damn near cult following in a matter of years. I fully expected her to outlive us all being a high elf and all. But a jadded fan’s bullet caught her between the eyes in the middle of one of her concerts. Poor Cardinal. Within 100 of his immortal years he lost two of his best friends. I haven't been to many funerals, but her’s was definitely the worst. Cardinal was unreachable. I’ve never seen Nicolye so distant. We had only recently gotten all our memories back and then... she was gone.

“Reese’s was next, from our old crew. His was peaceful, from what I was told. I still hate myself for ignoring his last letters. I was gone for so long, by the time we met up again he was a mound of dirt and stone. That man deserved a celebration, but he likes to keep things simple, I suppose.

“Milo liked to stay in his tower working so I can only assume he died doing what he loved. Building things to protect others for when he was gone.

“I wish I knew what happened to Gut. He was strange, had a habit of mixing in with the wrong crowds, but birds of a feather…

“I only got to meet up with Ord a couple times, but his aloofness made it hard to miss him once he was gone. If I am being honest, I probably missed his coin more than his company.

“Oh me? You want to know how I died? That’s a bit personal don’t you think? Well, after this much drink I am not too stingy on any details, my friend. The truth is, I don’t know kid. I was changed after Mesomime. Desperate, consumed with guilt, fixated on the feeling that if I ever stopped advancing, I would never move again. That didn’t change once we got Reese back, I still struggle to relax, even in this world.  

“The same could be said after the events on the Howran Plains. My soul never healed from the stresses of looking a god in the face and killing it. Years later, I could still hear the gurgle of blood coming from her lungs. It made sleeping hard. 

“Once it was all over with, I hopped on my ship and sailed, as far and as long as I could. I needed to outrun the nightmares of idleness and guilt that had haunted me for so long. But even a ship as pure as this one has to meet a port eventually. The Yowling Wave would go missing for months, years even. All sorts of fun rumors would circulate as a result. One of my favorites was that we had wandered into the Sea of Sorrows, and would never return. 

“But we always did. My image as the resurrecting Pirate Queen was well renown, but many believed that I did change with each new appearance. I was gracious, cruel, orderly, disastrous, profound, insane, as drunk as a sober sailor could be... 

“When Draken died, a part of me died with him. I refused to port for over a year. My crew mates fled if they could, but many died due to starvation or sea madness. Hell, my old boss actually had to make sure I wasn’t actively trying to kill myself and my shipmates. I don’t remember if I was or not.

“I got lost in drink, got sober, only to spiral again a few years later when another tragedy struck. I doubled my crew so I could sail faster than ever before. Then, I halved my crew just so I could afford the herbs that could help me forget how badly I was fucking up. I couldn’t stay still but to travel constantly became impossible. I lost track of time, forgot which way was north, and could no longer trust the stars that had guided my sails for over three hundred years. I sailed around the Craine Basin twice before my first mate took the wheel from my hands. 

“If my heart had died with Draken, it was my soul that drowned when that cruel storm broke my ship in half. All I could do was lead my remaining crew to their early graves. But, I didn’t die with them. No, my death came from the fact that I, the greatest captain of the seas, could not, would not, go down with my ship. My beautiful ship. The way she screamed and creaked in the waves, the winds tearing through her sails, the carcass of a dragon turtle and the pieces sewn into her, falling apart in the waves. Once the storm passed, I just stared at the waters beneath my feet. I couldn’t remove the magic that bound me above the waves. I couldn’t move, couldn’t cry. I let my most prized possession slip from my fingers, and all I could do was stare. 

“I died standing on those dark waves, with my belly full of ale, nose filled with herb, and this beautiful gun to my head. I knew that if I couldn’t end it before hitting the icy waters I wouldn’t be able to drown myself.”

A long drink. A sniffle and brushing of salty tears before a heavy sigh. 

“When that voice offered me a second chance, I couldn’t take it faster. A chance. That's all I had wanted. Things could be different, I promised myself. And they have been! They have been different. Look around! I’ve surrounded myself with friends old and new, and I won’t push them away like I used to. This time, I’ll listen to their stories in full, embrace their every quirk , and never move to our next great feat without due celebration of what we have already accomplished. I’ll give them a captain, a leader, worth following. And I swear it to you Mal, I won’t disappoint! I’ll be gracious in praises, cruel to our enemies, orderly in all affairs, disastrously profound in all my insane thinking, and no one will look upon me and think that I could be sober! I’ll be an inspiration worthy of song! I’ll lead my crew to battle, and by the gods of my old world and new, if my beautiful ship goes to the bottom of this ocean I will follow it with a smile on my face and glint in my eye so everyone will know that I was not afraid. Not this time. I will not lead anymore of my men to their deaths! You hear me, god? I demand it!” 

A hiccup. Soft snores and a sigh were the only sounds cast into the winds of the Yowling Wave. The smallest member of her crew now fast asleep on the captain's lap.

“Well, at least no one will hold me accountable to my drunken ramblings.”

“Emerald. It’s late. You should get some rest. We land in Menagerie tomorrow. We need you at-”

“I know, I know Sig. I hear you. I’ll turn in, I promise. Just a moment more.”

“I don’t need your nicknames. Also, next time I see you feed him any liquor I’m scheduling you at 60hrs with no overtime.” 

“Goodnight, Siege.”

“Goodnight, captain.”

A crooked smile as her head turns upwards towards the stars. 

“You know, Mal. These stars aren’t so different from the ones back on Ellecrid. If you tilt your head, Orion looks just like the Bow of Feinreal. And the little dipper is only missing a star or two to become the Dread Wolf’s claws. And the waves sound the same. My Yowling Wave sails just as good.

“Mal, remember, a home is where your crew is. Never forget it.”

Under the Stars

In the typical D&D campaign, the “boring parts” of a story are usually skipped over. Things like cleaning, cooking, eating, grooming, sleeping, or the moments of silence aren’t as engaging as fighting a vampire blood god but that doesn’t mean they don’t happen at all.

After a particularly harrowing battle, I wanted to give one of my characters a much needed moments of peace to recover and regain her footing.

—

Characters

Minlara Munkyrdane - Drow Elf, Warlock/Druid, Goddess of Undeath, Dreams, and Magic

Ezra Drake - Half Dragon, Paladin, God of Lightning, Hope, and Dragons

Dramneir Hellshaft - Mountain Dwarf, Therapist, Saint of Pageantry, Paperwork, and Peace

—

The stars started to pierce through the maroon and violet hues of the setting sun. Waves lapped lazily on the oak planks, gently lulling the ship and its company into tranquil bliss. The wind carried a salty breeze, and on another ship, someone had burned their dinner. A calm silence rested upon the deck, broken by arms clasping arms in reassuring hand shakes that seemed to ring out in reminder that they had all survived. 

She stood, facing the dwindling light of the sun, allowing the wind to tangle and twist itself throughout her hair. Years ago, she couldn’t have faced the sun, not directly at least. But years ago she couldn’t have faced a Panroot, a war of dragons and vampires, a cult to a vampire god’s son, or a vampire god living in his son's body; hell bent on revenge against her great grandfather… it had been a big day. But now it was time for rest. If she could figure out how. 

For so many years, her version of “resting” was spent training and honing new skills, rituals, and spells. She felt at home surrounded by books, tombs, scrolls; all covered in candle wax, as she blotted her face and hands in misplaced ink. Time passed slowly and every moment was savored. The weave was a giant puzzle, and while she never hoped to untangle every thread, she hoped to etch in her own designs wherever she could. But while her eyes could remain open and her hands unwavering, her mind was muted and tired. She needed to rest, and her time could not be spent alone with the souls of the dead. She needed something more. Dramneir had told her time and time again, ‘You cannot fill the horn from an empty barrel.’ She thought it was a stupid saying, one that was obvious and need not be said. But she was starting to understand what her friend had been saying all along. 

But how to do it? Did she even know how to rest her mind? She had been going from place to place, problem to problem for years now. Yes, she had her short breaks along the way, but this time was different. Ezra practically demanded that she hand over her books so she would be “secretly working”. Damn him.  

He was probably right though. She needed to savor her days off from saving the world, but relaxation did not come easy. Even now, the waves brushing against the ship were drowned out by a voice within her mind telling her she did not have time for this. That she has rituals to master, spells to craft, people to save! The secrets of the Rivers, the circle of five, and the Damned ones, were still out there for her to find but instead she is wasting time on a ship. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

She thought of times when she felt restful; and wasn’t alone. It took time, more time than she thought was healthy. But as one memory brought itself forward, more revealed themselves to her, one after another. The night of Okaku and Dramneir’s wedding. A drink with Anntara. A surprise meal with her grandfather. A spa day with The Golden Weasels. Enjoying Moragan and Viv’s company. Sharing an evening with Feindrid. Spending an entire day focusing on Henley. Just thinking about those moments, took a bit of the growing pressure off of her shoulders. 

It took her a moment, but eventually she got her breath to rise and fall with the creaking of the ship. She focused on what the wind was trying to braid into her hair and filled her nose with the sea's salty air. Feeling the warmth of the sun start to chill, she let the spell slowly dissolve from her face, allowing only the glimmering stars a chance to see the gnarled scar that stretches from her chin to her brow. She would have felt less exposed if she dropped her trousers in front of the entire Dragon Crest guild, but she pushed the feelings of shame aside. She would allow a moment for her true face to see the last bit of the day’s light. She took another deep breath, and smiled. 

The softest creek of the deck alerted her of his movements, but she felt no rush or panic. The weave gently reapplied itself to the right side of her face, as she turned to see her companion standing behind her, waiting. 

“Hey Lara.” He said warmly. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Thinking.”

“Ooooh thinking. How exciting.” Ezra teased. 

“Oh shut it. I am… relaxing.”

Ezra raised a suspicious brow. “Really.”

“Yes really.” Her friend’s silence spoke louder than thunder. “What? Is it so hard to believe that I am just enjoying a quiet moment after a long couple of days?” 

“For you? A little bit.”

“Gods, you are unbelievable.” She turned back to the waves and leaned against the railing. She smiled slightly when Ezra joined her side. The silence didn’t feel empty or devoid between them and in the quiet they watched the last sliver of the sun disappear beneath the distant waves. Lanterns were lit upon the decks of the armada, their flames reflecting across the waves to produce even more light. Ezra silently adjusted his stance to shield Minlara from the chilling winds, and she pretended not to notice. 

They stood there, side by side until the waves mirrored the stars and the ships appeared to float through space. In the comfort of the dark, Minlara again dropped the illusion from her face. When Ezra noticed, he did not mention it. They did not talk of Panroot, vampires politics, or Sunderings. They did not discuss the red scales, boy kings, or Damned Ones. Silently, they agreed that there would be times to discuss such things; but now was not the time. 

Instead, Ezra pointed out the elvish and draconic constellations within the skies, and told her their stories when she asked. Minlara re-enacted each tale on the ship’s railing using illusions and before they knew it their laughter was echoing across the stary sea. She told him about the bioluminescent veins that ran along the cave ceiling within the cavern worlds. And when Ezra asked how rocks know when it is time to light up, and she laughed so hard she couldn’t give him an explanation. 

They talked of their personal projects, Ezra’s weapon smithing and Minlara’s sewing. They spoke of simple things; how they wanted the bakers in StoneGrove and the pipe weed growers in the Dragon Clan village to move their businesses to the Bleeding city. Minlara summoned Maverick so that he may play her favorite song from home, Ezra insisted on learning the dance that went along with it. It took some time, with Minlara demanding that the woman lead in all Drowish dances, but eventually they were able to keep their steps in rhythm with Maverick’s lute. Then it was Ezra’s turn to teach her a dance. Then she taught him another. And another. And another.

And as peace settled into the space between them they felt a pressure lifted from their chests. And the stars shone just a bit brighter.

Wishful Thinking

“Right person, wrong time… or was it?”

Minlara and Ezra, best friends, business partners, guild founders, used to be engaged (5-6 years before this story). While in our D&D campaign they have moved on (mostly), I wanted to experiment within an alternate reality where maybe they didn’t ever get over their feelings for each other. I am also a HUGE fan of putting my boss babe adventurers into more “domestic situations”… as a treat. 🥹

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Characters

Minlara Munkyrdane - Drow Elf, Warlock/Druid, Goddess of Undeath, Dreams, and Magic

Ezra Drake - Half Dragon, Paladin, God of Lightning, Hope, and Dragons

Henley - Rabbit folk, 6 years old, Minlara’s son

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Minlara knew it was to be a long night of paperwork and planning. Opening an Arcane school had its challenges; she had prepared for them as best she could, but she didn’t think it would be so overwhelmingly… mundane. Each piece of paper asking something so simple, and yet she had almost no answers. Who was to ensure that proper payment was in order at the academy? What can we do as a school to encourage students into more practical uses of magic (there was an overwhelming interest in evocation schools)? Are there any pre qualifying factors, such as proof of magical abilities, before admission is allowed? Where can they gather more spell components? Who would clean the toilets for gods sakes!? And on, and on. Page after page, she had began to thank her Bloody Stars that Dramneir was on top of the band’s paperwork. She would find him a gift, for he was saving their asses while her and Ezra saved the world. 

Realizing she had studied the same letter thrice without comprehending a single word, Minlara pushed herself away from the wooden desk, leaning back heavily in her chair. Gods did not tire physically, but her lessons with her great grandfather had shown her that mental fortitude would wane without rest. Even the Night Father had to rest every once and a while. Opening her eyes only slightly, Minlara produced a shadowy hand and compelled it to drag a light blanket to her desk. She covered herself, tucking the blanket under her chin and let her mind wander to where they had procured this particular quilt. Was it Amethystine? No, it wasn’t luxurious enough for that trip. Definitely not Dracaeryn, she couldn’t recall any dragons selling or using any quilts. Then again, she had only ever seen a couple dragon’s bedrooms… 

She felt it first on the tips of her fingers, a tingling that was slowly starting to buzz. Her mind still hazy with sleep, Minlara moved her hand out from under the blanket thinking it had fallen asleep. Her fingertips were smokey with shadows and a light ringing filled her ears. It took a moment before the panic seized her, it’s fangs sinking deep into her heart. One of the wards had been tripped; something was in Henley’s room.

The chair crashed to the floor as Minlara stood and scrambled through each drawer on her desk in search of her gauntlet. Her whole body shook with anxious intensity as she quickly donned the metal glove and strapped it to her forearm. With a gesture and a word, Minlara’s form dissolved to the floor in shadows and broke into a frivolous chase towards the Band of the Bloody Stars tower.

There was no moon tonight, the entire city encased in shadows save for the light of city lamps. Minlara clambered faster as possibilities danced through her imagination. By the time she reached the tower door, future opponents were well muddled with past realities. 

An army of ghouls.

A woman’s pale and unforgiving face.

Her sword crashing down on Henley as he wailed in terror. 

Minlara could hear him crying as she jumped from shadow to shadow on the tower's steps. In her shadow walking form she could not tell him she was coming but he knew she would. Minlara would always be there. She wouldn’t let anything touch him. Not her son. 

She reached the last of the tower stairs, and saw Henley’s bedroom door had been left opened. Who ever was in there was dumb and dead. With her last shadow jump, Minlara, still cloaked in shadow, aimed a blast of eldritch fury to kill whatever was inside. 

In the dark room, a tall creature stood over Henley’s bed, reaching for him with taloned hands. Henley was crying, whimpering, as the humanoid snatched him from the tousled blankets. The feeling of crackling Erdrich furry burnt out in Minlara’s gauntleted hand. She couldn’t hit the creature now, not without the possibility of hurting her son. The creature held Henley closer and started to shush him. Minlara dissolved into the darkness, as the intruder quickly checked the doorway she had previously been standing in. Hiding in the shadows of Henley’s scattered toys, Minlara prepared a gnarled blade and waited. She could hit him fast and he would drop Henley. Even in her shadowed form, Minlara felt herself shake, with fury, with anxiety, with terror. She would not let anyone hurt her son. The creature growled and lifted a clawed hand above his head. Now.

The creature swiftly brought its talons onto Henley’s stomach, Minlara too slow in her concealed form to stop it. 

Henley giggled.

Minlara halted her attack. The creature repeated the movement, bringing his claw up and then down again, growling softly. Henley giggled again, a bit louder this time. Minlara did not move from the shadows.

Panic began to dissolve from her, she saw the creature for what it was. Not an elf in plate mail armor. A blue half dragon, hair tossed from sleep, smiling softly at her son as he continued with the game.  

“Look out Henley, the dragon is going to get you! Ahhhhh!” Ezra careened his hand into Henley’s sides and stomach, tickling him. Henley continued to giggle as he fought off Ezra’s hand. 

Shame began to fill the hole where panic once sat within her. Henley was safe. Her son was safe. And she had almost hurt her best friend in her panic. Maybe Ezra was right, she needed to work through her issues… 

Minlara began to creep slowly through the shadows out of the bedroom door, but turned around to view the two of them from the doorway. A low rumbling was coming from Ezra’s throat, a sound only dragon kin could make. He began to rock Henley in his arms, while the humming sound resonated in different tones. Ezra began to softly sing. 

She wanted to cry, and Minlara wasn’t altogether sure why. Seeing her best friend lull her son to sleep, in the middle of a warm summer night was something she didn’t know she wanted. Needed. For a moment, Minlara allowed herself to think of a different time, maybe even a different reality. Where she could spend her days playing, dancing, and singing with her son. Where she didn’t have to worry about anyone attacking her or her family. Where she could have a meal with her friends, and none of them spoke of the trials ahead, because there were none! Where her days could be spent researching magic and learning all its secrets. Where her greatest headache was figuring out who would clean the toilets in her academy. Where her and Ezra…

That was not the reality she lived in, at least not now. There was hard work to be done, and she wouldn’t be able to focus on it if she was focused on what could have been. For tonight, she had a mountain of paperwork to comb through. And tomorrow… who knew what it would bring. 

Despite the sense of longing that threatened to strangle her, Minlara spared one more look into the room. Ezra had lulled Henley to sleep minutes ago, but continued to softly sing his dragon lullaby. He gently lowered Henley back into his bed and tucked him under his blankets. His lullaby ended, but Ezra continued to stare down at the bed. Then, almost faster than her eyes could track, Minlara watched as Ezra kissed Henley’s forehead before he quickly, but silently strode out of the room. 

Minlara jumped into his familiar shadow as he left, closing the door behind him. She followed behind him, until he paused at the top of the stairs. 

“You are getting quieter and quieter in that form, Lara.” His voice was still filled with sleep. Minlara emerged behind him, no longer wrapped in his shadow.  “ I didn’t hear you.”

“Then how did you know I was there?” Minlara realized her voice also sounded tired. 

Ezra laughed quietly. “I can feel you near me. You forget, you carry a piece of me wherever you go.” 

The longing, which Minlara had expertly tucked deep inside her heart, began to travel up her throat again, past the cord around her neck that held his ring finger.

“Ez I -“ She would tell him. She had to.

“Yes?” He asked expectantly. 

“Thank you. Thank you for taking care of him while I was away.” And that was all she said. 

Ezra paused. He didn’t turn around to look at her. Probably for the best, MInlara knew her face would give it all away. “Of course.” He started towards his room. “Goodnight, Minlara. Don’t stay up too late.” 

She snorted. “I am the princess of darkness and dream walking. Staying up late is when I do my best work.” 

Ezra turned around at that. He was smiling, and did an exaggerated bow as he continued to walk backwards towards his room. “Then send some good dreams my way, your holiness.” 

Minlara curtsied as she said, “ Oh of course prince of dragons. I only exist to bring your wildest fantasies to life.” 

Ezra and Minlara laughed, but quickly shushed themselves. They listened for another call from Henley’s room but none came. The two Demi gods smiled at each other, before Minlara headed back down the stairs. Off to her paperwork. And to her wishful thinking.