I am the Penguin Queen.

HLH Gift: Starts with "Imm-" (Teen Wolf crossover)

eliyes — Sat, 19 Dec 2015 05:29:23 GMT

Just now realised I forgot to repost this here after the author reveals last year!

Title: Starts With "Imm-"
Author: feathermint
Real Author Name: eliyes
Written for: argentum_ls
Crossover with: Teen Wolf (the live action TV show that began airing in 2011)
Characters/Pairings: Lydia Martin, Ceirdwyn, Alex Raven, Jackson Whittemore (mentions of others from both canons). Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore (het).
Rating: PG for discussion of canon-typical violence.
Author's Notes: You've written Lydia multiple times, so I figured it would be okay use her as the POV character. This was literally the first thing I thought of when they said Lydia was Immune.
Summary: Lydia Martin goes for a scholarship interview with representatives of the Rebecca Horne Foundation and has some surprising information about her future opportunities explained to her.

"That's impossible."

Ms. Edwin smiled at her.

"Like werewolves?"

"Yes," Lydia replied, surprised and trying to hide it. This was not a conversational possibility she had considered when preparing for her scholarship interview with the Rebecca Horne Foundation. In fact the parts relating to her potential grant had gone quite well, but then Ms. Edwin had said there was another reason for wanting to talk to her today, and asked what year Lydia thought she was born in. Lydia guessed she was approximately thirty and given the appropriate year, figuring it was better to be accurate than flattering, at this junction.

That was when the interviewer claimed she was an immortal born in the year 29 After Common Era, and while Lydia struggled to swallow that, served a chaser of that Beacon Hills standby: werewolves.

"Exactly." Ms. Edwin tapped her tablet and turned it towards her. Lydia caught her breath; on the screen was a picture of Peter Hale, as she'd hallucinated him as a teen, as he'd looked in school pictures. Well, except he appeared to be unconscious, with a yellowing bruise at his temple. Given what she'd seen of werewolf healing, he'd probably woken less than a minute later. She looked up and met Ms. Edwin's knowing gaze.

"Several years ago, Peter convinced one of my students to exchange information, about Immortals and werewolves. He must have done quite a bit of research to find the rites to steal your Quickening, which is the energy that would have made you Immortal."

"I --!" Lydia blinked hard, once, but then it slid into place. "Of course. You seek out young Immortals and offer them this scholarship, don't you?"

Ms. Edwin nodded. "Currently, yes. Among other things."

"And if he stole my 'Quickening', I'm not Immortal now?"

"Actually, you would be what we call pre-Immortal, until the event that triggered the change. Some pre-Immortals never become Immortal. The event is a violent first death."

Lydia's hand rose to her throat, and the room seemed to tremble in her vision.

"He --"

"Probably needed a near-death experience to bring your Quickening to the surface. You are still mortal, Lydia. You will continue to age."

"Why are you telling me this?" Lydia demanded sharply.

"Because what Peter Hale did cannot be left as it is. My student, Matthew, is the one who gave him the information about our kind, to begin with. He had met werewolves before -- had been mistaken for one, a few hundred years ago, when a hunter saw him recover from a wound that would be fatal to an ordinary human. His curiosity makes him partially culpable for what happened to you, and Matthew -- he's an honorable man; in his first life, he was a knight. He wishes to make reparations."

"How could he possibly? Or is that what this scholarship is? Blood money?"

Ms. Edwin shook her head. "No. No, Lydia, you were always going to be offered this money for your educations -- though, given your intelligence, it might have waited until you were a grad student, if you had not needed it at this time. No, Matthew is going to get your Quickening back."

"...If that's what brought him back to life, will that kill him?"

"It should," Ms. Edwin said calmly. "Matthew will dismember him, just to be sure."

"And burn and salt the remains," chimed in another voice. Lydia startled, and turned to see Ms. Edwin's personal assistant, Alexa -- easy to remember since she bore a strong resemblance to Lydia's friend Allison -- coming in the side door with a tray of Starbucks drinks. "Probably bury different sections in on holy ground here and there." She handed a cup to her employer with a sweet smile despite what she'd just said, then presented the remaining two drinks to Lydia.

"You've gotten pale," Ms. Edwin observed. "I know this is all a lot to take in. We don't want your blood sugar getting low when your Quickening may return soon."

"I asked your mother what you liked when she dropped you off," Alexa revealed, "and I must say, you've got good taste. So, hot or cold? I'll drink whichever one you don't."

Lydia considered, and decided she'd prefer to risk spilling cold on her legs, rather than hot.

"Skinny vanilla spice iced latte?" she checked.

Alexa nodded, swore there was no soy, and Lydia accepted the cup from her and took a fortifying sip. Since Alexa settled in with the dirty chai latte, and her comments indicated she knew what was going on, Lydia asked if she was Immortal.

The two women exchanged smiles, apparently pleased that she'd picked that up.

"Yes. I was her first student," Alexa indicated Ms. Edwin, "back when she was only twice her apparent age."

"You're very well preserved," Lydia commented, and Alexa laughed. She looked less like Allison when she did that, not to mention barely twenty-five.

"Thank you, Miss Martin."

"What's the latest?" Ms. Edwin asked her PA.

"Closing in. Cory thinks within the hour."

"Does 'Matthew' realize what he's dealing with?" Lydia asked. "Not the werewolf thing, obviously, but -- Peter Hale is brilliant, cunning, manipulative, and insane."

"Yes," Ms. Edwin said somberly. "We know. We have been planning this take down since we got word of your coma. It would have happened sooner, but we had to find out how to reverse the rite."

"Matt has spent the last few decades hunting down serial killers for the FBI," Alexa informed her. "He has experience, and he has back-up he can rely on. Hale isn't actually Immortal, so the rules don't apply; they can gang up on him."

"What rules?"

"Oh, you hadn't gotten that far?" Alexa asked her employer.

"Not yet. You see, Lydia, 'Immortal' is a slight misnomer. We don't age, and we recover from nearly all fatal injuries, though greater damage means a longer period apparently 'dead', sometimes. But if we are beheaded, we die forever."

"Just checking, but a stake to the heart?" Lydia inquired.

"Remove the stake and the heart resumes beating," Alexa replied. "We aren't vampires, or anything like that. We eat, we sleep, we breathe. Most of us don't crave human blood."

"Only most?" Lydia raised an eyebrow.

"Mental illness can be found in every populations," Ms. Edwin answered.

"If one Immortal beheads another, they can absorb their Quickening, and any Quickenings they've absorbed in turn. So Immortals fight each other sometimes. It's called The Game, and the rules include fighting one-on-one with no outside interference. For example, Matthew -- being an honorable guy -- would halt the Challenge if his opponent were shot by a third party, rather than take their head." Alexa made a slashing motion with her hand.

"Not everyone would," Ms. Edwin added, "but if you get a reputation for that sort of thing, you start getting Challenges from heavy-hitters. No one wants a cheater killing us in droves. In a strange way, The Game protects us from each other, even as it encourages us to kill each other in pursuit of some indefinable Prize."

"As you can see, not all of us are believers in The Game," Alexa said. "Personally, I'm agnostic about it. Supposedly there will be a time when we're all drawn to one place to fight to the finish, until there's only one Immortal left. I'm content to wait and see, but still defend myself from others who think their best chance at winning is to absorb as many Quickenings as they can beforehand."

"Or take out the best fighters before the main --" Ms. Edwin paused. "Lydia? You've gone very quiet."

"It's a lot to take in." Lydia's voice sounded abstract and distant to her own ears. "There's -- possible avenues of research, but -- sorry, I feel..."

-- a strange pulling, like gravity but in the direction of Beacon Hills, she suspected. It made her head swoop; a shiver went through her. She tried to complete the thought, to say that she felt strange, but she couldn't make her voice work. Her heart sped up and her body tingled, like pins-and-needles all over. Lydia was vaguely aware of her drink spilling to the floor, of motion and voices calling her name, but her vision narrowed to a point. She gasped as something happened, and blacked out.

When she came to, she knew Peter Hale was dead. She could feel it.

Three days later found her back in Beacon Hills, staring at a phone.

She'd gotten the scholarship, obviously. Alexa was moving to Beacon Hills to give her a head start on learning skills she would need as an eventual Immortal, like sword-fighting and dealing with any shadows of Peter Hale left over from his magical theft. They planned to say she was a personal trainer.

There had been a long heart-to-heart with Lydia's mother, who had known about Immortals all this time -- but not werewolves. Her dad, thankfully, was clueless. Since he'd moved to Los Angeles, Lydia was sure they could keep him that way.

Ms. Edwin and Alexa had filled her in on some pertinent facts about pre-Immortals (and had agreed to participate in her eventual lab trials about the fertility issue), and were available for further questioning. They'd loaned her some of Rebecca Horne's diaries, and some from someone named Amanda; these latter, amusingly, were in Archaic French. She'd have to keep them away from Allison...

One of the facts of Immortality was why she was staring at her phone. They were still working out timing, due to schedules and time zone differences.

Lydia made the call.

"Hey, great timing." His voice made her knees weak and her heart skip.

"Hi. Can you talk for a bit?"

"Yeah, sure. What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I just -- I just found out I'm adopted."

There was a pause, and Lydia bit her lip. She had no idea how this would go.

"Well," Jackson said, voice tinged with empathy and some humor, "I can give you some tips on how not to react."

Lydia gave a shaky laugh. They would be alright.

She was going to be alright.

FIN

Lucius vs Arthur

eliyes — Mon, 14 Dec 2015 03:34:52 GMT

Just another of the many, many puns and references in Harry Potter:

"Lucius fights to reclaim Gaul from his treacherous tribune Frollo at the time of King Arthur's rise to power. After Arthur conquers Gaul, word of his great deeds reaches Rome, and Lucius demands that Arthur pay him tribute and recognize him as his sovereign. When Arthur refuses, Lucius invades the land of Arthur's allies on the continent, and Arthur and his knights hurry across the English Channel to do battle with him. Arthur defeats Lucius and adds Italy to his lands."

Source.

Harry Potter fanfic: "Black Doings In Azkaban"

eliyes — Wed, 02 Dec 2015 03:46:22 GMT

Title: Black Doings in Azkaban
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: Locked away in Azkaban prison, Sirius takes the advantage of the arrival of his cousin Bellatrix to help his godson.
Author's Note: This is an AU jumping-off point. I don't know that I'll ever continue with this story, and I don't know that I won't.

"Hello, Bella."

"Oooh. Umph. So, they put me close enough for conversation with ickle Sirikins, did they? And why should I speak with a blood traitor like you, hmm?"

"I was just pondering the future of the House. Think we'll see dear Lucius in here?"

Bellatrix scoffed. "Maybe, but he's got the money and the cowardice to slither free, if he denounces my Lord, I've no doubt," she said darkly, then added in a concerned tone, "Little Draco needs his father."

"Little Draco is rather the crux of it, actually. You realise our whole generation of the family is nearly all lost? Cissy's the last one standing. For now. Unless one of the Black women who married out manage to claim the House for their children, the name will be lost."

"What?! No, that can't be right!"

"Think about it, Bella. You and I are in here, where I sincerely doubt we'll be tossing off sprogs, Andy was disowned, and Regulus died in the service of your bloody Lord. Our fathers died that same year, so they can't sire anymore Blacks. Uncle Alphie died without issue."

"Sodomite," she commented automatically, too busy thinking to invest much vitriol in it.

"He was bent, yeah. Moreover, he's dead. Unless our mutual Grandfather Pollux or my Grandfather Arcturus decide to take a young wife to make babies, Cissy is it."

"True. So? Why should you care? You left! Turned your back on your own blood, and disgraced the name of Black!"

"My mother drove me out!" he roared back. "That woman is insane! Who uses the Cruciatus Curse on her own heir, huh? The bitch that bore me, that's who!" He panted for a moment, trying to get his rage under control lest the Dementors come by early for a nibble. "Maybe it escaped your attention, but I chose Great-Aunt Dorea over her. I chose Cousin James, and Uncle Alphard, and yes, your sister Andromeda, whether you'll acknowledge her now or not." He paused, then continued in a voice that trembled, "Regulus wasn't supposed to die."

"Reggie was a good boy," she said, so softly he had trouble hearing it down the hall.

There followed a pause, during which they both thought their own thoughts, until Sirius collected his enough to speak.

"Bella. From what I've pieced together from Cousin Barty's wailing, it was his father who threw you in here, yeah?"

"It was. Curse his eyes."

"He mentioned the Longbottoms. Did you kill them?"

"No," she snarled. "No, we wanted information, but they wouldn't /talk/, and now they won't be able to."

Sirius swore. There went his hopes that Harry would be raised by his godmother. "What about their baby? Was he cursed as well?"

"What? No, I don't think so. I hit what I aim for, Siri, as you might remember."

"Vividly. So, Cousin Frank is unlikely to produce any more heirs."

"...He was a blood traitor."

"If you mean he opposed your Lord, you're right. But you realise that given the women who married into the Prewitt and Weasley lines were disowned, that means unless our grandfathers sire more children, the choice for the next Head of the House is between Crouch Senior and little Draco?"

"Morgana's tits!" Bellatrix swore in a tone of unpleasant revelation.

"Given he threw his own son into this hellhole -- and let's not forget me, one of his own Aurors, who didn't even get a trial! -- I wouldn't think it past him to do his damnedest to get Lucius and Cissy out of the way, and then Merlin knows what would be in store for Draco. Raised by the elders of the House, if he's lucky."

Bellatrix indulged in a spate of violent, raging cursing, which Sirius interrupted when he heard something cogent.

"Did you just say Draco is your godson?"

"What? Yes, of course he is."

"Good. You used the family ritual, I presume."

"It's far superior to the Malfoy version, yes."

"Also good. Bellatrix LeStrange, I propose a trade."

She laughed. "What could you possibly offer me, Sirius? If you haven't noticed, we're in prison."

"When you prepared for the godparent ritual, did you look at the other rituals that are only possible if it's completed? For example, the Ritual of Protection Beyond Reach?"

"...How could you possible know about that?" she asked in a dangerous tone.

"I, too, have a godson."

"Impossible! You can't have used the Black ritual for the Potter brat, you were disowned years before his birth!"

"I wasn't, actually. Mother blasted me off the tapestry, yes, and I ran away from home, but either Father or Grandfather Arcturus must have blocked the actual disownment, because I can still call on the family magic."

"Unbelievable."

"Granted, that could change at any time. I'm stuck in here where I can do him no good or harm, whereas my mother is free and able to make Arcturus' life hell until she gets what she wants, if she feels compelled. So I feel I have a limited window."

"I'm amazed you haven't done it already, then."

"I've tried. One wizard is not strong enough to get past the wards of Azkaban -- nor one witch, not even you. But together..."

"You want me to help you protect the brat who supposedly defeated my Lord?! Hah!"

"If you want me to help you protect a boy who will doubtless be raised with Death Eater ideals, then yes. I'm no happier with the trade-off than you, but for the sake of my godson I'm willing."

Bellatrix sniffed. "It doesn't matter if you are; I've already done it."

Sirius actually chuckled. "Oh, I doubt that. I very much doubt that. I don't think Lucius would stand for it -- the ritual protects the child even from their own blood relatives, as Elladora Black proved."

"What's to stop me from doing it on my own, drawing on Rodolphus through our marriage bond?"

"Do you remember the words?" Sirius asked politely.

A mutinous silence was the only answer. After a while, he called out to her, "Just think about it, Bella. Think about the family. But don't think too long..."

He weathered the Dementors' next visit as Padfoot, which he had noticed made it a bit less terrible. There was no one to see him do it; the cells were set up so that the inmates couldn't see one another, as an isolation tactic. No sympathetic faces here, only echoing screams.

He couldn't use the same tactic when next an Auror came with Dementor guards, to deliver the thin grey gruel that was all the nourishment provided here. He cowered, sobbing, and focused on how he had failed James and Lily, failed Harry, if only he had used this particular ritual... When the food trolley moved on, he still remembered the words to say. It was a while before he stopped shaking enough to eat, though, grimacing at the slimy cold texture. Still, he would need what strength he could muster.

Later that day Bellatrix spoke to him again.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah."

"I'll do it. Tell me how."

"Thank Morgana! Okay, listen carefully --"

They did end up using some power from her husband, Rodolphus, and even a trickle from his brother, Rabastan. Hell, Sirius would have invited Barty to help, since he was their cousin, but the boy seemed to have cracked already. Chanting in unison, they did it, flesh bloodied in the shape of runes with their nails; blocking out the screams and shrieks and cries around them in the cold prison, they pooled their power and spiked the spell through the wards. Down from the island in the North Sea it flew, seeking out and finding two baby boys hundreds of kilometers away. Sirius and Bellatrix felt it when the magic protection took hold, and the exhilaration and relief of their triumph brought nearly every Dementor in Azkaban to their cells.

In Wiltshire, Narcissa Malfoy's eyes went wide as her son was wreathed in the ritual's energy, especially as it felt... familiar. A quick spell told her what it was; that her son was now the center of a magical protection that would be boon to those helped him, and bane to those who harmed him. She was warmed, that her big sister was looking out for her son even in these trying times.

Just two counties over, in Surrey, the same effect was also observed around young Harry Potter, to a much different reaction.

The Warden of Azkaban revived the prisoners he had identified as the source of whatever the hell just happened with the wards, though it took a team of Aurors to get the Dementors off them to do so. He demanded to know what they had done, and how they did it, and was more than a little unnerved when they both began laughing.

Bellatrix's, "That was Black magic!" was the only answer he got. He growled and went to Floo for permission to get some Veritaserum sent out, not that he thought it would do a lot of good. In his opinion, those two were mad before they became his responisibility.

Two days later, the Dursleys were dead.

This is not a surprise.

eliyes — Sun, 08 Nov 2015 23:44:16 GMT

Well, it's surprising that the embedding of the quiz results went snafu, but the actual results were less so.

I took The Greek Godly Parent Quiz, aimed at Percy Jackson fans, and I got Hermes!

Which is my unsurprise.

There was a cool picture of Hermes here but see above about embedding issue.

This actually looks GOOD

eliyes — Thu, 14 May 2015 05:54:13 GMT

Amayadori / taking shelter from the rain

eliyes — Tue, 28 Apr 2015 03:19:10 GMT

This is a bittersweet duet from Koko wa Greenwood. "Amayadori" does literally mean "take shelter from the rain" but also connotes how people from very different backgrounds can, for a time, share a space together because of it, and then part. I love this song because not only is it a perfect image song for the deeper level of the relationship between the two characters (whose voice actors are) mainly singing it, but it is also the essential underlying theme for the entire series. The school, and more specifically the dorm, Greenwood, is the great tree under which most of the students find themselves meeting and sharing a space, before parting again to go out into the world, and possibly never meet again.

I took the text from here and tweaked it in one place where I felt the transliteration could be improved. Many thanks to the original transcriber and translator; I am posting it to my LJ to have it, basically, in case that site goes down.

Romaji transcription

tooku de kudakeru shiosai mitai ni
amaoto kikutabi kon'na fushigi'na kimochi

itsumo hashaideta kimi ga kakete kuru
kono mama toki ga tomareba... sotto negau yo

meguriau kiseki ga areba mou ichido ka'nau no kamo
shibaraku wa kono mama koko de
ooki'na ki no shita no amayadori

sora wo nagameteta kumo ga waratteta
ryoute ni koboreru ashita wo furimaki nagara

toki wa nagaredasu zawameki tokashite
tooku e mukau BASU no naka boku wa hitori me wo tojita

dare kashira mado no mukou de ukareta waraigoe ga
ano basho ni subete aru no sa
o'naji yume wo meta ne amayadori

meguiaru kiseki yo itsumo
te no hira no naka ni are
maboroshi ga ima mo warau yo
ooki'na ki no yureru ano basho ni

English translation

Whenever I hear the sound of rain breaking in the distance like the ocean's roar,
it brings this strange feeling.

Always frolicking, you run away and return;
if time could stop in a moment like that... I wish for that quietly.

If that chance encounter was a miracle, I wonder if that wish could be granted once more.
Just for a little while, just like this, right here,
under a great tree, taking shelter from the rain.

I gazed at the sky, the clouds were laughing
while they sprinkled tomorrows spilling from both hands.

Time pours out and noisily dissolves;
inside a bus that faces into the distance, alone, I closed my eyes.

I wonder who it is looking through the window with a laughing, festive face.
In the place where everything is,
we saw the same dream, didn't we? Taking shelter from the rain.

O miraculous encounter, ever
be within the palm of my hand.
The illusion still smiles--
swaying beneath a great tree, in that place.

crossover thoughts only other Canadians are likely to get.

eliyes — Thu, 09 Apr 2015 14:50:46 GMT

I'm kind of disappointed that I can't find any crossovers for Night Hood and Harry Potter. I mean, they even got an actor with a very similar hair colour to Arsène's to play Remus in the movies, surely the visuals work. Imagine if Arsène Lupin, gentleman burglar, was a wizard and that's how he could do all that he did. Or better, he wasn't a wizard, but since his skills of thievery and disguise were just so elite, someone from the wizarding world was made to investigate if it was a wizard using their magic to mess with the muggles, and fell in love. He'd be the right age to be Remus' grandfather*, it could totally work. He doesn't even have to be Remus' actual grandfather; having awesome burglary inclined relations on the continent could only be useful to a member of the Order, during the first War against Voldemort, right? Cousins!

The closest I've found, and this is really stretching, is the Lupin family being originally from France and moving to England because Beauxbatons wouldn't accept a werewolf student and Dumbledore did.

* I judge this thusly: I am two years younger than Harry Potter. By all accounts, Lily and the Marauders seem to have been within 5 years of how old my mom was when she had me. Her mother was born during WWII. Night Hood seems to take place in the 20s, and Arsène doesn't have a kid during the show, so a child soonish after the show would be the right age to be Remus Lupin's dad's generation.

here's one for a post-arrest Wolfstar

eliyes — Mon, 06 Apr 2015 13:06:22 GMT

"River Roll On" - The Judds

River roll on
Wish I could be like you
No looking back
And no heart that breaks in two
You'll never now
What a goodbye can do
Oh, I wish I were you
River roll on

River roll on
Free as the winds that blow
Feelin' no pain
Just rollin' with the flow
No tears to cry
No songs to make you blue
Oh, I wish I were you
River roll on

Oh, I never thought that
I could ever feel so all alone
But I'm learnin'
The world keeps on a turnin'
Even though he's gone

River roll on
Keep rollin' endlessly
Down to the arms
Of the ever waiting sea
I wish that I had someone waitin' too
Oh, I wish I were you
River roll on

I wish that I had someone waitin' too
Oh, I wish I were you
River roll on
Oh, I wish I were you
River roll on
River roll on
River roll on
River roll on

peeks out of bunker

eliyes — Thu, 02 Apr 2015 15:27:47 GMT

Is it safe to come back to the internet? Is all the April 1st stuff over yet?

for your information

eliyes — Thu, 12 Mar 2015 06:00:13 GMT

We (tai and I) have a character who killed Madonna to spite his estranged father, who is a fan of her music.

We did this before Lady Gaga was a thing, and now are reconsidering.

(No, this is not a nice character. Yes, this is an alternate reality.)

I grieve with thee.

eliyes — Sat, 28 Feb 2015 04:28:43 GMT

Farewell, Leonard. We'll miss you.

They did the Nash! They did the Monster Nash --

eliyes — Tue, 24 Feb 2015 19:55:44 GMT

It looks like claymation. Even some of the energy effects. (This is not a complaint.)

defective monkey says what?

eliyes — Sun, 22 Feb 2015 03:13:26 GMT

"I'm an apex predator, damn it, cuddle me!"

joyous scream CHARLIE!!! ♥

eliyes — Sun, 11 Jan 2015 11:43:36 GMT

Merry Christmas!

eliyes — Thu, 25 Dec 2014 15:44:55 GMT

Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail too~

BEST FRANDS

eliyes — Tue, 23 Dec 2014 21:26:27 GMT

And an excerpt from a logfile of chatting with kiffie yesterday:

kiffie: Also, Namor - Asshole = never meeting Betty or Jim.
eliyes: Betty would have carried on, her life a bit less rich and weird, but Jim
eliyes: Jim needs Namor
eliyes: as a rival and compatriot and friend
kiffie: Yes.
eliyes: as someone else who doesn't entirely understand the people around him in a way that merely being from another country doesn't cover
kiffie: Yep.
eliyes: and as someone to demonstrate things like the passion Namor has
kiffie: And, for his part, Namor functions pretty well without Jim, but he's happy when he's around that doofy firebot.
kiffie: Steve has lots of passion, but it's fairly one-direction and typically not to the visible extremes that Namor gets to. :V
kiffie: Namor will crush a steel door in his bare hands just because he's excited about bagels. :V

Then we got distracted by Namorita and cupcakes, but -- my point is, sometimes it's like life is an ongoing dialogue with the universe about the relationships between comic book characters.

Starts With "Imm-" (Highlander/Teen Wolf)

eliyes — Sun, 21 Dec 2014 03:38:01 GMT

Title: Starts With "Imm-"
Author: eliyes
Fake author name: feathermint
Written for: argentum-ls
Crossover: with Teen Wolf (the live action TV show that began airing in 2011)
Characters/Pairings: Lydia Martin, Ceirdwyn, Alex Raven, Jackson Whittemore (mentions of others from both canons). Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore.
Rating: PG for discussion of canon-typical violence.
Author's Notes: You've written Lydia multiple times, so I figured it would be okay use her as the POV character. This was literally the first thing I thought of when they said Lydia was Immune.
Summary: Lydia Martin goes for a scholarship interview with representatives of the Rebecca Horne Foundation and has some surprising information about her future opportunities explained to her.

"That's impossible."

Ms. Edwin smiled at her.

"Like werewolves?"

"Yes," Lydia replied, surprised and trying to hide it. This was not a conversational possibility she had considered when preparing for her scholarship interview with the Rebecca Horne Foundation. In fact the parts relating to her potential grant had gone quite well, but then Ms. Edwin had said there was another reason for wanting to talk to her today, and asked what year Lydia thought she was born in. Lydia guessed she was approximately thirty and given the appropriate year, figuring it was better to be accurate than flattering, at this junction.

That was when the interviewer claimed she was an immortal born in the year 29 After Common Era, and while Lydia struggled to swallow that, served a chaser of that Beacon Hills standby: werewolves.

"Exactly." Ms. Edwin tapped her tablet and turned it towards her. Lydia caught her breath; on the screen was a picture of Peter Hale, as she'd hallucinated him as a teen, as he'd looked in school pictures. Well, except he appeared to be unconscious, with a yellowing bruise at his temple. Given what she'd seen of werewolf healing, he'd probably woken less than a minute later. She looked up and met Ms. Edwin's knowing gaze.

"Several years ago, Peter convinced one of my students to exchange information, about Immortals and werewolves. He must have done quite a bit of research to find the rites to steal your Quickening, which is the energy that would have made you Immortal."

"I --!" Lydia blinked hard, once, but then it slid into place. "Of course. You seek out young Immortals and offer them this scholarship, don't you?"

Ms. Edwin nodded. "Currently, yes. Among other things."

"And if he stole my 'Quickening', I'm not Immortal now?"

"Actually, you would be what we call pre-Immortal, until the event that triggered the change. Some pre-Immortals never become Immortal. The event is a violent first death."

Lydia's hand rose to her throat, and the room seemed to tremble in her vision.

"He --"

"Probably needed a near-death experience to bring your Quickening to the surface. You are still mortal, Lydia. You will continue to age."

"Why are you telling me this?" Lydia demanded sharply.

"Because what Peter Hale did cannot be left as it is. My student, Matthew, is the one who gave him the information about our kind, to begin with. He had met werewolves before -- had been mistaken for one, a few hundred years ago, when a hunter saw him recover from a wound that would be fatal to an ordinary human. His curiosity makes him partially culpable for what happened to you, and Matthew -- he's an honorable man; in his first life, he was a knight. He wishes to make reparations."

"How could he possibly? Or is that what this scholarship is? Blood money?"

Ms. Edwin shook her head. "No. No, Lydia, you were always going to be offered this money for your educations -- though, given your intelligence, it might have waited until you were a grad student, if you had not needed it at this time. No, Matthew is going to get your Quickening back."

"...If that's what brought him back to life, will that kill him?"

"It should," Ms. Edwin said calmly. "Matthew will dismember him, just to be sure."

"And burn and salt the remains," chimed in another voice. Lydia startled, and turned to see Ms. Edwin's personal assistant, Alexa -- easy to remember since she bore a strong resemblance to Lydia's friend Allison -- coming in the side door with a tray of Starbucks drinks. "Probably bury different sections in on holy ground here and there." She handed a cup to her employer with a sweet smile despite what she'd just said, then presented the remaining two drinks to Lydia.

"You've gotten pale," Ms. Edwin observed. "I know this is all a lot to take in. We don't want your blood sugar getting low when your Quickening may return soon."

"I asked your mother what you liked when she dropped you off," Alexa revealed, "and I must say, you've got good taste. So, hot or cold? I'll drink whichever one you don't."

Lydia considered, and decided she'd prefer to risk spilling cold on her legs, rather than hot.

"Skinny vanilla spice iced latte?" she checked.

Alexa nodded, swore there was no soy, and Lydia accepted the cup from her and took a fortifying sip. Since Alexa settled in with the dirty chai latte, and her comments indicated she knew what was going on, Lydia asked if she was Immortal.

The two women exchanged smiles, apparently pleased that she'd picked that up.

"Yes. I was her first student," Alexa indicated Ms. Edwin, "back when she was only twice her apparent age."

"You're very well preserved," Lydia commented, and Alexa laughed. She looked less like Allison when she did that, not to mention barely twenty-five.

"Thank you, Miss Martin."

"What's the latest?" Ms. Edwin asked her PA.

"Closing in. Cory thinks within the hour."

"Does 'Matthew' realize what he's dealing with?" Lydia asked. "Not the werewolf thing, obviously, but -- Peter Hale is brilliant, cunning, manipulative, and insane."

"Yes," Ms. Edwin said somberly. "We know. We have been planning this take down since we got word of your coma. It would have happened sooner, but we had to find out how to reverse the rite."

"Matt has spent the last few decades hunting down serial killers for the FBI," Alexa informed her. "He has experience, and he has back-up he can rely on. Hale isn't actually Immortal, so the rules don't apply; they can gang up on him."

"What rules?"

"Oh, you hadn't gotten that far?" Alexa asked her employer.

"Not yet. You see, Lydia, 'Immortal' is a slight misnomer. We don't age, and we recover from nearly all fatal injuries, though greater damage means a longer period apparently 'dead', sometimes. But if we are beheaded, we die forever."

"Just checking, but a stake to the heart?" Lydia inquired.

"Remove the stake and the heart resumes beating," Alexa replied. "We aren't vampires, or anything like that. We eat, we sleep, we breathe. Most of us don't crave human blood."

"Only most?" Lydia raised an eyebrow.

"Mental illness can be found in every populations," Ms. Edwin answered.

"If one Immortal beheads another, they can absorb their Quickening, and any Quickenings they've absorbed in turn. So Immortals fight each other sometimes. It's called The Game, and the rules include fighting one-on-one with no outside interference. For example, Matthew -- being an honorable guy -- would halt the Challenge if his opponent were shot by a third party, rather than take their head." Alexa made a slashing motion with her hand.

"Not everyone would," Ms. Edwin added, "but if you get a reputation for that sort of thing, you start getting Challenges from heavy-hitters. No one wants a cheater killing us in droves. In a strange way, The Game protects us from each other, even as it encourages us to kill each other in pursuit of some indefinable Prize."

"As you can see, not all of us are believers in The Game," Alexa said. "Personally, I'm agnostic about it. Supposedly there will be a time when we're all drawn to one place to fight to the finish, until there's only one Immortal left. I'm content to wait and see, but still defend myself from others who think their best chance at winning is to absorb as many Quickenings as they can beforehand."

"Or take out the best fighters before the main --" Ms. Edwin paused. "Lydia? You've gone very quiet."

"It's a lot to take in." Lydia's voice sounded abstract and distant to her own ears. "There's -- possible avenues of research, but -- sorry, I feel..."

-- a strange pulling, like gravity but in the direction of Beacon Hills, she suspected. It made her head swoop; a shiver went through her. She tried to complete the thought, to say that she felt strange, but she couldn't make her voice work. Her heart sped up and her body tingled, like pins-and-needles all over. Lydia was vaguely aware of her drink spilling to the floor, of motion and voices calling her name, but her vision narrowed to a point. She gasped as something happened, and blacked out.

When she came to, she knew Peter Hale was dead. She could feel it.

Three days later found her back in Beacon Hills, staring at a phone.

She'd gotten the scholarship, obviously. Alexa was moving to Beacon Hills to give her a head start on learning skills she would need as an eventual Immortal, like sword-fighting and dealing with any shadows of Peter Hale left over from his magical theft. They planned to say she was a personal trainer.

There had been a long heart-to-heart with Lydia's mother, who had known about Immortals all this time -- but not werewolves. Her dad, thankfully, was clueless. Since he'd moved to Los Angeles, Lydia was sure they could keep him that way.

Ms. Edwin and Alexa had filled her in on some pertinent facts about pre-Immortals (and had agreed to participate in her eventual lab trials about the fertility issue), and were available for further questioning. They'd loaned her some of Rebecca Horne's diaries, and some from someone named Amanda; these latter, amusingly, were in Archaic French. She'd have to keep them away from Allison...

One of the facts of Immortality was why she was staring at her phone. They were still working out timing, due to schedules and time zone differences.

Lydia made the call.

"Hey, great timing." His voice made her knees weak and her heart skip.

"Hi. Can you talk for a bit?"

"Yeah, sure. What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I just -- I just found out I'm adopted."

There was a pause, and Lydia bit her lip. She had no idea how this would go.

"Well," Jackson said, voice tinged with empathy and some humor, "I can give you some tips on how not to react."

Lydia gave a shaky laugh. They would be alright.

She was going to be alright.

FIN

brilliance! cawing!

eliyes — Sat, 20 Dec 2014 12:14:57 GMT

After kiffie sent me this link: http://hatofunthinking.tumblr.com/image/105368336830

eliyes: is that a werecrow Hawkeye on the right?
eliyes: Kate: ...Hawkeye.
crow!Hawkeye: *caws* Hawkeye
Clint: *caws*
kiffie: Crow!Hawkeye is a good guy, if I'm remembering right.
eliyes: Crow!Hawkeye: *caw!*
Clint: *caw caw!*
Kate: *bitchface*
kiffie: XDDDD
kiffie: Kate: Okay, this is pissing me off -- why the futz aren't you a hawk?
eliyes: Crow!Hawkeye: Because then it wouldn't be significant that I have eyes like a hawk?
kiffie: Clint: *Rennergiggle*
eliyes: Crow!Hawkeye: "Hawk", they'd call me.
eliyes: Kate: ...fair point.

Gingerbread BNB

eliyes — Fri, 19 Dec 2014 19:22:18 GMT

The Robin Hood Foundation, a charity aimed at alleviating poverty (and funding disaster relief) in the New York City area -- you can read what wikipedia has to say about them here and what they say about themselves here -- has come up with a really cute idea for raising money to put roofs over the heads of homeless families this holiday season.

Check out Gingerbread BNB.

You book a virtual stay in one of three gingerbread houses, and 100% of the money goes to sheltering homeless families. Every $100 (USD, I presume) gives one family a home for the night, but the options are tailored to how much you can afford to give. The Cozy Camper is $5 a night, the Rustic Cabin is $10 a night, and the Modern Home is $20 a night, and you choose how many nights your stay will be. The descriptions are cute and funny, and if you donate (which you can also do as a gift for someone), you get a postcard of your virtual stay and the warm fuzzy feeling of helping contribute to help people in need.

This is a great hook for a charity fund drive, and I hope more such charities follow Robin Hood's path of this kind of appealing innovation.

hypersonic squeals of joy

eliyes — Mon, 08 Dec 2014 04:17:44 GMT

SQUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIB!!!1!!

(we're watching Legend of Sanctuary)

(It's FUCKING AWESOME)

eta: *dances for joy*

newfie rice balls!

eliyes — Sun, 07 Dec 2014 00:57:15 GMT

onigiri with a moose filling!

HEE hee hee heeeeee...

eliyes — Tue, 02 Dec 2014 06:20:01 GMT

taichara: aww lookit the arsehole not honestly engaging but instead going no u because of shaky connections and "the realms doesn't have a unique feel" aren't they precious *pinches cheeks, rips face off*

we started watching Full Metal Panic! today

eliyes — Mon, 24 Nov 2014 05:14:12 GMT

So Heero and Setsuna had a little boy...

Except their kid would be the safest child in the solar system and become a child soldier only over their dead bodies, which... must mean they're dead. Oh no. Now I'm sad.

Wait, wait, could the Lt. Commander be Wufei?

Guys guys this is pretty low pressure

eliyes — Sun, 09 Nov 2014 23:27:31 GMT

They've done it again! OK Go - I Won't Let You Down

eliyes — Mon, 27 Oct 2014 23:34:08 GMT