life isn't a john hughes movie...

[fic] 100 Days [1-4/100]

roadtriphome — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 07:43:30 GMT

[made with doll divine]

Title: 100 Days [1-4/100]
Fandom: Dragon Age
Rating: M
Timeline: 9:30 Dragon (the Warden and Hawke's first year)
Pairing: Zevran/Mahariel
Summary: Lyna (Mahariel) of the Sabrae Dalish elf clan has been ripped away from everything she's ever known to save her life and soon a world of others from the taint of the Darkspawn and the Archdemon Urthemiel. It will take a handsome assassin to lead her back home.

001. Beginnings.
It was late in the evening when they finally set up camp, each of them weary and almost to the point of collapse. Only Morrigan had any energy to throw what scraps and herbs they had into a pot and call it supper.

The quiet of the campsite rung in her ears, making Lyna feel uneasy. All the nights before had been chatty and pleasant amongst their tents, but tonight a shadow sat out of sight, slowly assembling his tent. Even though Zevran’s back was turned, she knew he was listening for any sign that they were whispering about him. She could sense the defenses building up all around his body, ready to survive through wit and charm alone if he had to. He was easier to read than he knew. He was Elven, despite himself, and the earth hummed at their feet as it reconnected their roots, welcoming him back to his people without him knowing it.

Lyna blinked, realizing she had been staring and Morrigan was pressing a crude bowl of soup into her hands. “Wake up, this slop isn’t edible cold.” Her voice went down an octave, almost a whisper between them. “And don’t you dare give him anything.”

She glared at Morrigan’s back as she left, wishing she had the gall to throw something at the human’s head. It was a wonder how they got along.

Everyone drew into their tents for the night, tired and wanting to eat in peace, she supposed. The elven assassin had caused so much tension in the last few hours of the day that it was a wonder he didn’t sneak away when they weren’t looking.

She, despite her company, felt differently. Lyna drew several ladles of soup into a bowl and stood, stepping quietly towards Zevran’s tent so as not to startle the camp. The ex-assassin immediately heard her, looking up from sharpening his blades.

“Are you sure you want to feed the man that just hours ago tried to kill you?” The elf smirked, if only slightly. There had hardly been time for him to collect himself before they were off again and he looked it.

“Last I remember, Lethallin, you were paid to kill me. I carry no ills for you, only Loghain.” She handed him the bowl and took a seat where the glow of the fire could reveal their faces. “Even, it would be a great burden on me to kill a fellow elf, especially one who has not been welcomed back into the clans.”

The smirk died a little, curiosity hidden under a cautious glint that held her in the firelight. “What did you just call me? I’ve been called many things, but that word escapes me.”

She took a bite of her stew and hid her smile behind her spoon. “It means “friend”. Abelas, I meant no harm by it if that offends you.”

The smirk returned full force, his white teeth gleaming in the yellow light. “Ah, you feed me and call me friend after an afternoon of almost killing each other. If this were another life, we would be making love by firelight in Antiva by now.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she found herself biting back a laugh. “Oh, and such a suggestive bite of the lip - you tease me, woman.” Zevran leaned back, a hand to his chest, a true smile gracing his lips, she realized, before he quickly tucked it back into hiding.

Lyna heard him give a small, tired sigh, half hidden by a bite of stew. “I’m sorry, Zevran, I should leave you be. You’ve had a long day and you need your rest.”

She went to stand, but a smooth, firm hand took her own and drew it to warm lips. Hot breath grazed her skin and she felt her body shiver as Zevran kissed her hand.

“Thank you, Warden. You have made a grateful man of me. I am in your debt.” He let her hand slip from his as he took another bite from his bowl. “Good night.”

Lyna felt her skin flush suddenly, clutching her soup bowl tightly. Without realizing it, she took only a step back towards her tent before turning around again. “Vir Adahlen, Lethallin. Sleep well.”

Without another word she rushed off to her tent, sets of curious eyes at her back.

035. Sixth Sense.
It was dusk when Zevran had returned from the baths to finish packing. They would be leaving the Mage Circle in the morning and he still needed to square away what provisions the Mages had given him. There had been few spare clothes, food, and extras that were salvageable, but they were insistent.

He was grateful, but felt uneasy about staying any longer in the tower. Something felt as if it were searching him out. It was a desperate nagging that pulled at his psyche and he wished it would go away, lest he search it out himself and rid the pest.

“Ser?” A girl’s voice startled him suddenly, a rare feat for non-assassins.

He turned to find several Elven apprentices, youths of all ages, looking as though they hadn’t left each other’s sides for days.

“Yes?” Zevran tried to make himself say more, anything to break the cold fear welling up in his stomach, but their familiar faces somehow shut him off.

“It’s good to see you haven’t lost your tie to the Roots, children.” Lyna replied, appearing beside him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Come here.”

She motioned for them to come to her and they leapt into action, tears pouring down their faces as they wrapped arms around her in any way possible. Zevran kept back, surprised by her sudden serene nature. She clutched a child’s head, resting hers on its matted red hair. She caught his eye and frowned, the feeling of dread threatening to burn a hole in his stomach. His entire being screamed for him to runaway, to get as far away from such an emotional display lest he be moved in any way. It was a part of his training. A part of how he had survived for so many years.

It had been so long since he had seen anyone show such affection for complete strangers.

Lyna’s head rose up and she stood straight, the children seeming to regain their composure. She reached out and took one of the older apprentices, barely seventeen years of age, by the shoulders. The young man’s eyes held back enough pain to bring about demons that very moment, and it made Zevran shudder as the Gray Warden placed a kiss on his forehead, speaking a prayer against her mark.

“Mythal and Elgar'nan guide thee and ease your loss. May Falon'Din bring you to her in your passing. Dirthamen send his ravens Fear and Deceit to those who took her from you.” She pulled back, her hands clutching his face. “Lethallin, it is up to you to unite your people here. Mage or not, you are still of Elven blood. We must stand strong or we will never have the strength to raise Elvhenan again. Do you hear me child?”

He nodded, the strain in his face ebbing away with every breath. “I will, Gray Warden. I will.”

“You all will rise above this cage and root again, I swear it. Gods bless you and find you in the Beyond. Be wary of Fen’Harel, he will trick you if you stray. So keep your clan safe, Lethallin. Don’t let this happen again.” She let her hands fall and looked around at the young faces surrounding her. “You are clan, my brethren. No matter if you hailed from the Alienages or were stolen from the Dalish. Mythal protect you, and I hope to return to see you again, wise as you are brilliant. Understand?”

“Yes, Gray Warden!” They said in unison, their spirits lifted. It was as if a dark mist had faded and the firelight above their heads glowed brighter.

She waved them away with a smile that hid a softness rarely seen in battle. “Go, come back before supper, and I will tell you of your Pantheon and the way of your people.”

The children ran off, their steps lighter than before. It left him shaking, but he clenched his fists to hold it back the best he could.

When they were alone in the hallway, the hum of silence deafening, Lyna turned to him and closed the distance between them. Before he could comment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held onto the back of his head with her hands. “Breathe deep and close your eyes. Think of a forest clearing…”

Despite himself, he did as he was told, relaxing as her body pressed against his. A weight was melting away and it felt as if Lyna was sifting through him. She was touching something he wasn’t ready to give and his hands unconsciously clutched at her hips, squeezing them with a groan.

For a moment he saw the clearing and Lyna’s calm, quiet face, but somewhere in her Beyond there was something watching. They were too close to it all. All the magic in the air was affecting any sense of calm he might have gotten from Elven magic. It scared him, whatever it was she was doing…

And then it was gone. The shake, the feeling of dread – it had vanished with the wolf at his back.

Her body fell away from his before he realized his eyes were still closed and she was staring up at him. Zevran quickly hid right before her eyes, offering her a familiar smirk to ease her mind.

“If you are not careful, my dear Gray Warden, the Templars will lock you up too.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in close. “You’ll have to teach me that trick later.”

“You already know it, Lethallin. We are all connected…” Lyna frowned, her eyes tired and full of a want he couldn’t place.

Suddenly, boots sounded heavily against the stone floors before Sten appeared behind Lyna. “Warden, the mages are offering food. They command your presence.”

Her eyes lingered on his before she turned and smiled at Sten. “I’ll be right there. Make sure Alistair doesn’t boil anything.”

As Sten disappeared back down the hallway, Lyna reached out and lightly grasped his hand. He was surprised that it shuddered like his had earlier.

“Children are louder than their elders.” She explained. “That’s why we can sense them from miles away. I didn’t want you to suffer, especially not after such a nightmare.”

Her hand fell back to her side and she turned away, leaving him to watch as her hand visibly shook from the cold dread he once felt.

033. Too Much (Written with irvys_sefie)
A bunch of love and appreciation to Courtney who co-wrote this with me (she wrote Zevan and she does a fantastic job at it). Though she was unable to finish the story with me (hence the months and months of time between updates), I really enjoyed writing with her. I apologize if the ending is not up to par with the rest of the story. I just wrote it and have been out of the DAO fandom for way too long. I’m going to have to remedy that – especially since I have a few more chapters started already. So more stories are around the corner! Thank you all for the lovely reviews, I hope this makes up for the break.

* * *

The trek back into the lower temple was spent in agonizing silence, Lyna vibrating with a loss that they could not understand. There were no words for the pain they had seen darkening her usually bright eyes when the specter in the form of her dear friend Tamlen took shape. A new necklace hung around her neck, shimmering in the light of the rising sun. It reflected the world around her and each of them in turn. It was a reality that she had not wanted back in her life, they realized, but a mirror followed her and would do so until she could forgive herself for the deeds that brought her to them.

Still, her eyes were blank, her body stiff and unwelcoming even in light of the beauty in Andraste’s Ashes.

It was in the crisp air of the high dragon’s flying grounds that she changed. Zevran saw it out of the corner of his eye, watching her and the beast flying above their heads. He had never seen such a rage in those sea eyes. They crackled with an energy he knew had the desperation of a broken people only healed by the hunt and the wild.

Bending low, she grabbed a rock out of the snow and wrapped it in her sling shot. He slowed just enough that he was out of her swing range, but close enough that if anyone went to try and stop her he would intervene.

No one could have anticipated such a sudden act from their leader. She swung the sling around their heads, making the air sing before Lyna dashed forward. Wynne and Leliana cried out her name, Morrigan transformed into a spider for easier escape into the ruins as Sten and Alistair started after her. Zevran stopped those that he could, his arms barely holding them back.

“No! She has to do this alone!” Zevran yelled, remembering such tests with the Crows.

This was something deeper, full of an honor none of them could fathom.

The dragon flew low, screaming angrily at them before Lyna neared its landing spot. Alistair pushed past him, but Sten stayed watching with an interest that rivaled a king’s execution.

It was then that a guttural cry echoed out across the snow-covered canyon – the young elf woman the source. He could hardly believe the ferocity in her battle cry as she neared the beast and leapt onto its back. Her twin blades sunk into its hide, her climb a painful stab into its spine before she wrapped her legs around its neck and let her blades round the tender skin beneath its chin.

The dragon cried out, angry, surprised – scared – before it dropped, squirming and eventually dead. Even from the distance between them, he could feel the pain of the act and the anger it came from.

Lyna decapitated it at the base of its neck, taking her time to work off the layer of hide that held its protective scales. Morrigan had already reverted back to her human form, nearing the kill without trouble as she was allowed to take inedible organs for her spell work. Alistair was met with heavy eyes that caused him to wave apologetic hands at his friend. Zevran almost felt bad for the man. Friendships affected a hunt and she wasn’t going to have him spoil such a catch. She did her best to calmly ask him to retrieve the hide and carry it for her, but he could see the pain in Alistair’s face.

How could he understand? What could anyone say that would explain the ways of the Dalish? There was nothing simple in anything Lyna did, a woman now suddenly revealing her pain like a reflection and her anger with the quick death of a blade.

Alistair would just have to learn her innocence was protected with the end of an Elven sword and the bite of her upbringing.

“I am surprised such a small Elven female could take on a high dragon.” Sten said quietly. He was fully aware that if Lyna heard him in her current state she might “accidentally” shove him off the nearest cliff edge.

“My friend, you are looking at a woman who was taught to use pain to survive.” Zevran looked up at Sten. “I, for one, will simply be happy to eat something other than the scraps of deer.”

Sten looked back down at him with scathing disbelief. “You intend to eat the dragon?”

“Of course!” He retorted. “Even if it were not a delicacy in Antiva - to turn down the hunt of a woman who single-handedly killed a high dragon would be very foolish. I would not wish such an insult on anyone.”

"So you say. I am more interested in what can be made from the beast's hide than its meat. If we had to stop in order to slay the thing then we can at least harvest it of all its uses."

Zevran nodded, motioning towards Alistair as he rolled the hide in disgust. “Then I believe, my qunari friend, that we best offer her our able hands. It seems the Dalish waste nothing as well.” He grimaced at the amount of blood covering their leader. “The kill could have been a little more… cleaner.”

"Unless you have experience in slaying dragons, I suggest you hold your judgments. Or stay here, if the sight offends your delicate sensibilities." He had never been one for banter, especially post-battle. Without another word, the stoic warrior turned from the Antivan and began his stride toward the fallen dragon.

“Ha!” Zevran began, but sighed, eying Lyna again. She looked as though the kill had calmed her, purpose back in her hands as she released meat from bone.

Her eyes suddenly met his across the space that separated them. They were sad still, but only a flicker of it shown through. She needed his familiarity, his ease. “Zevran!” She waved a blade above her head. “How much can you carry?”

Zevran let his smile show, despite the gore around him. “As much as you need of me, my fair Warden!”

It was all that she needed. “Good, find as much clean snow as you can and pack the meat in the hide. Tonight, we eat like kings.”

* * *

It was late in the evening when they had set up camp in the lower temple. Some of the meat they had salvaged from the dragon was already half eaten, but Lyna had left her cut of it untouched, not feeling as hungry as she had hoped. She felt sick and needed a walk -needed to get the image of Tamlen out of her head. Her hands were twitchy and she still felt as if there was so much to do before they ventured back to Redcliffe.

Lyna stood, wrapping her leftover meat in parchment to eat later. They had salvaged so much already from the dragon they would have to see to acquiring one of the wagons in Haven, just until they reached Redcliffe. She wouldn’t waste anything. Not even a scrap of meat. They would not suffer hunger because of her.

Without telling them, she started for the rooms on the first floor, her bag empty and ready for any salvage she could carry. It would keep her busy and with miles and miles clear of any human, she would not be hindered by her finds.

“Surely you aren't planning on turning in for the night so early, my dear Warden. There are still a few more hours left for celebration, no?" Zevran says from behind her, lounging against a wall in the hallway.

“Oh!” Lyna looked back at the Antivian, embarrassed that she hadn’t been able to sneak by him. She should have known better. “I… just needed…” Sighing, she motioned towards the stairs. “I needed a walk… to clear my head. It has been a long day; I suppose is one way of looking at it.”

"No doubt," he agreed automatically, tilting his head to the side just enough so that his ever-present-smirk appeared to widen into what could almost be mistaken for a pitying smile.

But he could never pity her, of course.

Zevran didn’t have a lot of room left in himself these days for useless sentiments like pity –there wasn’t a need for such a thing when one is constantly crossing blades with Darkspawn, after all- but even if he did, he wouldn’t dare look at her in such a way. She was a creature who didn’t need the pity of another, no matter what she might have experienced.

She would never have accepted it, and, in truth, he preferred her that way. Whatever she had faced in her life, she had accepted fully, and in doing so had squashed any budding room for pity under her boot long ago. So, while his expression might have projected it, he was confident that she wouldn’t begin to think that he, an Antivan assassin, was starting to patronize her.

There was some sympathy in his smile though, however if he’d had it his way he would have gladly stuffed that away as well. But it slipped through all the same. Ah well. Some things cannot be helped. He knew all about “long days”.

“Tell me; is it a custom in Ferelden for one to take on a dragon all by oneself? Because in Antiva… well, actually, there aren’t that many dragons terrorizing Antiva. So I suppose it is a Ferelden thing! Ah, the things you learn just by asking the right questions!”

Lyna let herself laugh, if softly, at his prying. “I have heard of human knights who risk life and limb to kill High Dragons so as not to destroy villages, but there are few elves that would do the same. Not anymore.” She turned and started up the stairs, a part of her hoping he would follow. “Dragons usually keep to our ruins, so only if we need shelter will we disturb such creatures. They birth so many of their kind in one spring that another will probably replace the one I killed before the next year. That is, if the Chantry doesn’t make this place their home. I doubt they would give up such a find.”

Looking back again, she couldn’t help but force a smile. “To answer your question, at least in my time, no elf has found reason to slay a dragon single handedly. I will say that if need be, a skilled hunter or threatened Elven mother would be able to. Emotion can be a deadly weapon – but you know this.”

He had followed her, of course. As if there had been any doubt that he would! As she’d turned to make her way up the stairs he waited a few breaths longer before pushing himself away from the wall with the foot that he’d had propped against it, sauntering silently after her. He hadn’t really expected her to delve too deeply into dragon lore with him, but he remained the obedient student as she spoke: listening to every word diligently and with interest. Well now, she truly was forthcoming with information when she wanted to be, wasn’t she?

Pity, then, that she refrained from sharing the more intimate details of herself when questioned. He understood quite well the necessity behind shielding your more vulnerable spots, but she was almost better at hiding away than even he was! Well, perhaps she was better… after all; she had managed to pry loose one or two of his better guarded stories, had she not?

“I do at that,” he agreed at last, grinning at her. “Emotion is a far better assassin than any Crow, I must admit. Though… don’t tell anyone that I told you that. It can do the job of killing a man better than any professional blade could ever hope to, for the simple reason that it makes every strike hot. Blows that come from a heated hand do far more damage than any cold strike from an assassin, and while we bring an art to what we do… there is still nothing quite so devastatingly beautiful as a raging fire. Consuming and unable to distinguish friend from foe. It’s a marvelous sight, really. A Crow can kill a target, but a good, strong emotion can… kill a dragon. Is that not right, Lyna?”

She bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. “Yes, a strong emotion…”

Making her way up the stairs, Lyna managed to get into one of the bedrooms on the second floor before turning to Zevran, pillows in hand. She needed to fill the silence between them. She needed to fill in holes so she would stop falling through them every time she told him stories. No one listened like he did. She had realized that when he joined their journey – but she was leaving out something he had a right to know. Everyone had heard a version of it. Everything they needed out of her tale. So she worked a weave for Zevran, a telling of it just for him.

“Did I… ever tell you how I came to be a Gray Warden?” She asked, setting the pillows aside to pull off sheets and blankets to fold and pack.

He had kept a careful distance between them, having no intention on venturing too closely toward an ember that might still have some flame left in it. There was no telling when it would suddenly spark back to life, as he’d learned in the past, and getting burned now would have been most regrettable. But, ah, now wasn’t a time to be thinking in metaphor, as he’d just learned. She was willing to talk, and so he was willing to draw in closer. Not enough to get in her way, but enough that he could watch her busy herself. There was a level of normalcy in her movements, and that allowed him to ease into a response to her question without much pause. It was a fortunate thing too; any great hesitation and she might assume he was uninterested in her story!

"Ooh, there's a story behind it, is there?” he purred, enjoying the opportunity to play with his answer. He liked teasing her. It was good enough to get a reaction at all out of her, but better still to be able to see her rise to the challenge. “And here I was, thinking it was nothing more than some boring ritual that involved drinking blood and seeing dragons! In Antiva, we called that a party!"

He laughed, recalling the oh-so-serious nature in which he’d overheard Alistair speaking one night. He hadn’t meant to be spying, really, but he hadn’t been able to help himself! The poor human just didn’t know how to quiet himself down! Especially after he’d caught Zevran mid-snoop. But, well, amusing though that memory was, the elf soon realized he was the only one laughing.

"...That was a joke."

Lyna looked up from the sheets and tried to smile, but it looked too forced – too pained. “Where would I be without your sense of humor, Zevran?” She turned back to the bed and started stuffing the sheets in haphazardly, beginning to roam the room and pack anything useful. “The elven man you saw in the Gauntlet was my best friend, Tamlen. He and I were exploring a ruin outside our Clan’s camp when we both became ill with the Darkspawn Plague. It was carried by an old mirror that transported him somewhere… somewhere we could not go. So I was found while he wasn’t. He’s dead… he has to be dead. I’m not even supposed to be alive…” She sighed, gently setting down a book and rubbing her face. “Seeing him again, reminds me how angry I still am at Duncan. He might have saved me, honored me with a title while other men would no sooner cross me, but I cannot forgive him for abandoning my friend.”

She sniffed a little and coughed, avoiding his eyes as she started back to throwing things towards her bag and forcing a smile. “But you don’t want to hear such a depressing story. Not in such a cold place. You want to hear how I was the fastest at learning to bare two swords, but couldn’t perfect the bow to save my life. I was to be the bard of the Clan one day as well, but you probably already know that… It’s hard not to.” Lyna laughed, but it was hollow and her eyes still looked ready to burn away.

He had to admit, in spite of himself and his intentions to be the ear that she clearly needed, he felt a small pang of jealousy in his heart when she spoke of her friend. Whether it was because he himself had never known what it was to be in such a strong friendship… or if it was perhaps it was just the result of his lingering, but undesired, frustration over the…familiarity with which that shade had spoke to her back at the Gauntlet…he didn’t know. He just knew that he didn’t care for the way that she had begun to pace about again. She had finally begun to truly confide in him…to finally express what it was that had driven her to face that dragon alone, and now she was attempting to brush it aside again, to protect herself. He knew that was what she was doing.

He was the master of such things, after all. No one knew the lengths one would go to hide themselves away like someone who was willing to dig even deeper to do the same. Surely she could tell that he was not to sort that would allow her to hide away?

Without a word he stepped forward, catching her by the arm and spinning her to face him. It had been an impulsive movement, and not one that he would have normally attempted if he hadn’t already been fuelled by his frustration. For a moment though, after he had ensured that her attention was on him and not on her domestic task that she was using to disguise her own attempts at self-distraction, he faltered. His hand left her elbow, slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure how it had gotten there, but then he seized her shoulders to keep her from turning back away.

You’ve gotten this far, Zevran. No backing out now…

“What I want to hear about,” he began, voice low, despite his certainties that there weren’t any eavesdroppers nearby. “...is what it is that still haunts your steps? I do not know what it is that you so cherished in your Tamlen, but surely he would not have approved of your recklessly tackling a dragon as you did? Do not think that I don’t understand you, Lyna. I know what forced your hand, but what I do not know…and what I suspect, perhaps, even you might not know, is what still lingers in you that refuses to let you steady it.”

Lyna stared up at Zevran, a short puff of air between them as her breath caught in her throat. Her cheeks burnt red as she was forced to look him in the eye. No being had made her feel the way he or Tamlen had. They shook her out of her naivety and into the age she feared now would never begin for her.

She couldn’t stop the words that spilled from her mouth. “He was to be my betrothed.” Lyna sighed, looking a little relieved before she forced her eyes to close. She hit Zevran lightly on the chest with a fist. “No one was to know that, not even him. I was working very hard to be a proper wife…” Opening her eyes again, she let herself look up at him. “Now, I am tainted and a Gray Warden. My clan may love me as their own, but no elven man will betroth such a woman as I. That is why I risked such a feat, my friend. That is why my blade cuts deep and swift. If I am to die now, then I know that I will not have lived out my final days alone and without companionship. I can only hope that this journey brings me out of the naivety of the elflings. That I may face my Elder with the eyes of a woman and not that of a child.”

Proper wife? Betrothed? They were not words he had expected to hear her say, and yet she spat them out with such passion that he knew that they were not things she bandied about lightly. So, she had loved this Tamlen that much. The fact that his ghost haunted her still; reminding her of what she could never be…it was unfair of him. Whether she’d had a body to bury or not, there was no excuse for it. If he had been worthy of her at all, then Tamlen should have…

…Should have what? It was not so easy for most to stuff away the memories of someone like he had tried to do to Rinna. It was not so easy as to throw yourself at willing blades when you had your hopes left waiting. His throat tightened at the thought, and he frowned down at her.

“Alone?” he echoed incredulously. “You can be many things on this journey, but alone is never going to be one of them. Not so long as you keep me around. The others… they can come too, of course, but you have me ‘til the end. Such was my oath, after all.”

He smiled faintly, moving one hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her pointed ear.
“For what it is worth…” he added softly. “I have never seen a child in your eyes when I have looked at you. Perhaps you banished her away without even realizing it, but, regardless, I see you and see only a woman…”

Lyna flushed under his smooth touch, her ears going pink. She knew her features revealed too much. No one had ever said such things to her, except for Tamlen and Ashalle. His words made her feel as though she had been made a hunter again and yet, a part of her felt small and unworthy of his attention. Something about this rogue from a different clan, from a different country, made his words stand out and filled her with too much joy that she shivered with twitchy nerves. Like his roots were tangling into her own.

She looked off; feeling too exposed by his eyes, but did not pull away. “I have never met an elf quite like you before, Lethallin…” She risked looking back into his eyes.

“Lyna….” Zevran leaned against her forehead, his skin humming against hers. He could not bring himself to reveal such a feeling with words. It was against everything he had ever learned. It felt wrong to say them out loud, and so he simply let his body, as it always did, speak for him.

With trained hands, he grazed her ears with his fingers and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. She instinctively drew closer, letting him guide her chin up so that their lips met. An inexperienced mouth pressed softly against his and he fought the urge to chuckle.

Lyna felt foolish kissing Zevran, knowing full well he knew what he was doing – but she couldn’t help herself. It filled her with a need to stay there forever, to let him smooth out the rough edges in her heart that had formed in the last few months. Just to have Zevran hold her tightly and help her forget for a moment about her responsibilities. She did not want to remember her losses. She wanted to feel whole.

It was a feeling that made her want to cry.

“Well this definitely isn’t where I left my satchel.” Alistair’s voice broke through the cozy silence Lyna had found herself in and tore her away from Zevran with startled realization. “Oh hello you two, I wondered where you had wandered off.”

Zevran did his best to not glare angrily at the other Warden, but the look in Lyna’s eyes made his fists tense. He had felt her relax against him; felt her breathe him in as if to thank him for that brief moment of relief…

And now it was gone.

“Lyna, do you need help? I saw this lovely book in the other room; let’s see what else we can find.” Leliana brushed past Alistair and Lyna was almost dragging her out of the room.

“I think there was a gown just your size too, Leliana, let’s go…” Lyna glanced sadly back at Zevran before running off, slipping back into her mask as she past Alistair. “Jon has your satchel, Alistair.”

“Ah, thanks Lyna, good luck!” Alistair replied before stepping into the room and towards Zevran. His voice was low. “If you think I’m going to let you charm your way into her tent, you have another thing coming.”

Zevran shook his head, biting back his anger so as not to give Alistair the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten to him. “Oh Alistair, I think you’re underestimating your fellow Gray Warden.”

“Lyna’s just a girl. She’s never been around incorrigible men like you who want nothing more than to ruin her…” He waved a hand around, not sure what to imply, but left it at that.

Alistair swerved to meet Zevran in the middle, but the elf dodged his advance and strode out of the room, fearing his actions if left alone for too long with the idiot.

The moment was ruined and he had too much to think about now.

For the first time, he realized, he had taken her in…

This is part of the fourth chapter, which has yet to be finished or shown to anyone. I'm almost finished, but it's always nice to hear feedback to get me going.

021.Friends.
It was early morning when Lyna came to, blinking past a deep sleep that made her eyes hard to open and her body ache. It felt as if she hadn’t taken a breath in days and for a moment she thought she was suffocating. Taking a deep breath, Lyna opened her eyes to find herself beneath the underbelly of a thick hide blanket. She sat up and regretted it, pain shooting through her and rain instantly making her cold. Someone pulled her back down and drew the blanket tightly over her head. It was Leliana, Zevran groaning as he woke and then quickly drifted off again.

“Shh, go back to sleep. You had a fever last night and have just broken past it. Wynne says you are to rest until it passes, or you’ll worsen. The Darkspawn taint isn’t helping.” Her friend brushed her hair away from her wet forehead. “All this travel must have caught up with you. You haven’t slept very well.”

“You’ve noticed?” She whispered, her throat feeling hoarse.

“Of course, someone has to keep an eye on you.” Leliana smiled wide, her voice going low. “Zevran was rather helpful getting you into the wagon undisturbed. Alistair wasn’t too happy about that.”

Lyna blushed, pinching the girl lightly. “Shh! Why are you under here as well?”

She rubbed her arm, but there was barely a mark. “Wynne said it would be best if we were covered from the rain. She didn’t want us to get sick as well.”

It made sense, what with Alistair and Sten having helmets and Wynne and Morrigan being able to keep the rain off with magic, that left them exposed. They just weren’t suited for heavy armor and not many helmets were made for a small head like Leliana’s or elf ears like Zevran and Lyna’s.

Jon snuffled at her feet and the elf smiled. It appeared her hound wasn’t fond of being wet either.

With a yawn, Lyna shivered. A part of her wanted to clutch tightly to Zevran, soaking in his warmth as well as his essence, but it would be terribly rude to invade his space. So she turned to Leliana and sighed, not out of malice, as her dear friend knew, but out of frustration. Life was far too complicated for her in such a state and the simple act of finding warmth and comfort in friends was not something she wanted to work through.

She just needed a friend.

Leliana opened her arms and welcomed her over, holding her close. Her friend hummed a tune, soft and sweet, that lulled her back to sleep, her head swimming with sickness and her thoughts lost to hopes and fantasies.

* * *
In the night, they were quickly escorted into the Eamon’s bedchamber to anoint the Arl with the ashes. Lyna slipped from the room as the priest blessed him and willed the ashes to work. She felt uncomfortable in such a space. Uncomfortable with human beliefs. Even after experiencing a part of Andraste and the Maker for herself, she felt as if she was intruding. The great mother and father held many faces, but this was no time to offer such thoughts to the priests eyeing her.

Possible savior or not, she was still a heathen Dalish.

“The ways of man are strange, are they not?” Morrigan startled Lyna, surprised to have been found in a dark hallway alcove.

“They are. While most humans give me their blessing, I hear the priests mutter that I, a Dalish, have disgraced their Andraste’s burial place.” She huffed, “If we are so terrible why was it that I was not struck down? Why is it that they are cursed by their creator and we are not? Maddening beings.”

Morrigan laughed loudly, smothering herself when guards eyed them. “No truer words have ever been said.” She sighed, leaning on her staff. “And where is Zevran, I wonder? I would not have figured him to linger very far from you.”

“Hmm? Oh…” She looked back towards the door to Arl Eamon’s room and smiled. “I think I heard him say that he was curious about how ashes could cure poisoning. It might be very useful for an assassin to know.”

Morrigan chuckled. “Naïve as ever.”

Lyna blinked, not taking her meaning before Leliana rushed out of the room. “Come quick, he lives!”

* * *

It turned out Arl Eamon was unlike the priests that prayed over him, he was thankful and even requested a private audience with her once everything had settled. So much had happened between his waking and supper that she barely had a chance to talk with Alistair about their next move. Before she knew it, she found herself in a confining dress and a room too large to be considered one.

“Mythal protect me…” Lyna muttered, watching as a young elven woman brushed and braided her hair. “You do not have to do this, Lethallan, I can dress myself.”

She laughed. “Not to our lady’s liking, I assure you, cousin. It honors me to do this for you, I have never met a Dalish before and many of the servants have wished to hear your tales of the wilds.”

Lyna sighed, feeling tired, too much so to beg that the girl think of her people more as her own instead of a tale of adventure. “I have never eaten with humans before, except for those I’ve traveled with…”

“I would not know myself. The servants eat in the kitchen with the cook, I’m afraid. If anything, we speak when we are spoken to, that’s all I can say.” The woman tied off the braid with a green ribbon and looked over her handiwork. “Well, you clean up nicely, cousin.” A sudden look of concern washed over the girl’s face. “Odd, you’re flushed in the cheeks as if you’ve a fever.” She felt at Lyna’s forehead and clicked her tongue. “Maybe it’s the dress, you’re not familiar with human clothes, I’m sure.”

Now that she was more aware of herself, Lyna had to admit she was still not feeling very well. Ever since they had left Haven she had felt sluggish and achey. She thought maybe it had just been the journey through the temple, but now everything was too hot and too cold all at the same time and sleep came much easier than it ever had.

Lyna blinked the heavy blur creeping into her eyes and turned away from the mirror, heading for the door. She had to keep strong. She could not worry her friends, not now, not when there was a Blight getting nearer everyday.

“Thank you for looking after me, I best hurry on to dinner so I do not cause trouble for you.”

“But…” The elf girl sighed behind her, “Be well, cousin.”

* * *

Unlike most nights since the Joining, Lyna discovered her appetite was gone. She sat between Zevran and Leliana and tried her best to stay awake. She felt flush, her body feeling as if cold water was rushing over her. It was hard to keep track of the conversation.

“Milady, are you well?” Teagan’s voice drew her out of her daze, suddenly feeling confused. How much time had passed since she sat down?

Everyone around her was trying to look as though they weren’t studying her, but she could feel their eyes. She tried her best to straighten herself and look awake.

“My apologies, I’m afraid our journeys have worn me out. I still feel as if I’m moving. We have done so for so long. It is good to be able to settle for a day or two.” She managed, suddenly aware that two servant elves were waiting behind her with soup and ham. “Thank you, may I have only soup and bread please? I would not want to upset my stomach with so much food. I have eaten very little on our journey.” She lied.

The elves silently smiled and set her dinner in front of her, seeming to brighten at the sight of her noticing them. When they were gone, she started in on the potato soup, forcing herself to eat. It seemed to settle everyone’s nerves and conversation began again.

Zevran wasn’t fooled though, catching her eye with his. They studied her and her ears flushed uncontrollably. She hated that he could see right through her without much effort. She couldn’t be sure if it was his training or their connection, but he smirked at her and looked away.

Wiping his hands, he sipped his mead before opening his mouth to surely reveal her. “My good Arl, have you heard the story of how our fair Warden slayed the high Dragon of Haven?”

“Maker!” Isolde gasped, looking to Lyna. She was sure the Orlesian was surprised such a small, skinny being could take on anything bigger than a deer. She smirked around her soup spoon. Humans always underestimated size.

“No Ser Arainai, but please, tell us. I thought it curious how our cook now has a grand supply of Dragon meat.” Eamon chuckled, trying to keep light-hearted that evening as he worked to not speak of the impending war or his poisoning – at least during supper.

Clearing his throat, he stood. “Well there we were, tired and worn from our journey through the cult ridden caves of Haven and the Guantlet’s challenge. Our fair warden had taken the worst of it all, suffering anguish and physical toil. We were ready for camp and sleep could not come too soon – and yet half way to pass back down the mountain, the High Dragon guarding the Urn swooped down and landed in front of us!” Suddenly Zevran dipped low and then swung out his arms as he raised himself up, “She blew us back as she fanned out her wings!”

With the movement, his passing hand struck her mug and caused it to spill mead all over her gown. It’s green fabric turned brown and she felt the warm liquid seep down to her undergarments.

“Oh!” She cried out, but it sounded sluggish and muffled to her ears.

“Ah, look at me, so clumsy.” Zevran scolded himself, catching her hand in his. “Here, let us find you a change of clothes.” He bowed, working his charm toward the Arl and Bannon. “Excuse me, Sers, I will continue my story later. I would feel terrible if I didn’t escort the fair Warden back to her chambers.”

Several people chuckled while Eamon sighed, appearing tired even after weeks of sleep. “I believe it is time for me to take my leave as well. Please, make yourselves comfortable in the castle. Whatever you may need, simply ask. Alistair, we will speak in the morning.”

With that, Eamon rose, Isolde following, and slipped from the room. Teagan shook his head and stood as well. “Monsters, mages, miracles – I believe I’m ready for bed as well. May you all rest peacefully, and thank you again for all that you have done.”

Lyan rose, rolling her eyes at Zevran. “I can escort myself, Lethallin.”

“Oh ho,” Her friend quirked an eyebrow at her. “But it is so late and what sort of friend am I to leave you to get lost in this human castle?”

She blushed, realizing he had heard her earlier when they arrived. The castle was big and there were many hallways. She could find her way out of the Konari Wilds blindfolded, but the human buildings were cold and lifeless. There was nothing to aid her ranger heart.

Turning to the waiting servants, she bowed “Thank you.” and then to her friends still eating. “Peaceful dreams, my friends.”

“And to you, Lyna.” Wynne said, several ‘Ayes’ heard from the others.

Zevran led her away from the dinning hall, leading her down the hall in silence. Standing and concentrating on walking seemed to make her even more ill than eating and listening. She wobbled when the reached the first landing on the stairs and a thin, skilled hand balanced her from the small of her back.

“You are a terrible liar.” He whispered, suddenly too close.

She swayed and instead of falling back onto the stairs, her body was blissful picked up and swung over strong arms. Zevran easily carried her up the rest of the stairs, bringing her into her room down the hallway.

“Cousin!” The elf from earlier seemed to startle her friend as he shuddered before composing himself. She could sense it all in the flex of his arms.

His voice was gentle and rumbled against her ear. “I have her, but a basin of water and a clean wash cloth would be most helpful.”

“Yes Ser!” As the servant ran from the room, Zevran set her on the bed and began to untie her dress.

She weakly swatted at his hands. “I can undress myself…”

He chuckled, stepping away. “Of course.”

Lyna attempted to reach back and untie the dress, only getting as far and the middle of her back before she sighed and laid back down. Whatever was affecting her was washing over her fast and making her too tired.

“Lethallin… I trust you…” She muttered, eyeing him from her place on the bed.

“I would be less of a friend if I were to leave you in such a vulnerable state with only a meek elven servant to protect you.” He began to untie her laces again, his voice serious. “Why did you not stay in bed, Lyna?”

“Mmm,” Sleep was making her eyes feel heavy and his voice was almost like a lullaby. “I did not wish to worry everyone…”

Her dress loosened, fabric falling away as she drifted. Her undergarments stayed on as a loose nightgown was pulled over her head, smaller hands, the servant’s Lyna was sure, untying her garmets so that she could rest easier.

Zevran laid her against pillows as soft as clouds before his voice drifted over her again. It was hard to concentrate on it when every part of her body ached. Sleep was becoming harder to fight...

“Do not dream, mi dulce…”

* * *

It seemed harder to swim out of the darkness of sleep than it had the last time she remembered. Lyna took in a deep breath and drifted in and out of consciousness.

“If she is to recover, she must be given time. The taint has dulled her ability to heal.” Wynne’s hand brushed her forehead. “I will come to check on her later… and please do not bother her too much. She needs her rest.”

Somewhere Zevran chuckled, but she thought she heard his voice grow hoarse.

The world fell away, the darkness pulling her back down. She could sense her elven brothers and sisters around her, some cleaning, some cooking, some simply staying out of the way. She tried to reach out to them, to comfort them, but she was too far away. Their roots were too thin and too hungry to search her out. They knew not her song or the pulse of the earth.

Suddenly, it felt as if the room was too crowded, each elf watching as sickness overtook her. Heat washed over her and no amount of struggling could cool her. She cried out for Ashalle, her mother, her father, for Zevran – but she could not crawl out of the bloody, throbbing darkness.

It was then that hands wrapped around her face and she was dragged out of it. Air washed through and over her, the fever knocking back against her skull. Lyna groaned, clutching onto her savior’s tunic before she realized he had a familiar face.

“You saved me…” Her voice was slurred and she felt as if she had been crying. “Why am I so cold?”

Zevran looked at her closely and sighed, his concerned eyes almost new to her. “You’re fever must be worse, you need Wynne…”

He gently let her go, letting her lie back against the pillows and disappeared. Wynne was over her in a matter of minutes, applying healing salves to help her breath and to cool the skin.

“It is as I feared. All the strain of the last few months has finally taken its toll on her. Her body isn’t used to human disease and here she is in the heart of a human village. I’ve seen the same in the tower. Elven mages become deathly ill upon entering the tower until they adapt. She will need to rest for some time, and be given a sip of this poulice every few hours… but if you stay, you too might become sick, Zevran.” Wynne warned.

“Ah, but it is my duty to risk it, my dear Wynne.” Her friend replied, his weight sinking in beside her.

After a moment, she began to drift back into the darkness again, but not before feeling someone lay with her, pressing a cold rag to her face and wrapping an arm around her waist.

* * *

Lyna woke again, but this time she knew she was between the fade and reality. Dream and waking were blurred by the sudden realization that a high dragon sat before her, wings resting over its shoulders, waiting patiently.

“Ah, Gray Warden, t’was you who called so loudly. I should have known you by your stars; it has always been you that was meant to free me from my inevitable curse.” The dragon bowed his head as she stood, looking at her closely. “A daughter of Mythal as well? I am honored to have you pierce the darkness from my flesh. When I rise again in whatever form the Maker desires, I will seek you and your kind out to thank thee.” He bowed again and chuckled. “My humblest apologizes, I am Urthemiel. The human’s once called me the Dragon of Beauty, an Old God… I am one of the First, those that came before you. There were many before you…”

“How are you speaking to me? Is this a… fever dream?” She asked allowed, curious at how real this all seemed.

“You carry the taint of the Forgotten Ones in you, as do I, this bonds us. Few can speak to the Old Gods, those that came before you, but here we are.” The dragon hunched, sliding down from his spot in the room and curling around her, as if nesting for the night.

She reached out and touched its scales, feeling the sensation of cold through her burning body. This amazed her, having wondered if a dragon’s core was always consumed with fire. “Why do you speak of both the Maker and the pantheon? The two can’t exist together, can they?”

Jaws flashed white, large teeth spreading wide to smile. “There are many things that only the land beneath your feet knows, Gray Warden… Your Bard heart will know one day, but not today.” It reached a paw out and took her hand. “You still worry for your Tamlen, lost to the taint of the Forgotten Ones…”

The fear that this was all a delusion dropped away and Lyna clutched the dragon’s dulled claws. “You know of Tamlen? Does he live?”

“He is neither dead nor alive, a ghost in flesh. That which doesn’t heed my darker call prays for your safety and your…” The dragon suddenly placed his extended paw against her stomach, the sickness outside the dream seeming to rush through her again. “…happiness.”

The sickness made her feel queasy and weak, her legs giving out beneath her. The dragon wrapped around her like a shield, sleep falling over her again. She tried to clutch at the dream, so many questions bubbling up in her throat like bile.

But the dragon saw much more than she did…

“Bring peace, my friend, and find happiness in those who seek you out.”

[icons] Mass Effect 1&2, fanmade ideas

roadtriphome — Sat, 18 Sep 2010 07:15:10 GMT

Guess who finally tried her photoshop again. Wow, I think it's been about 2 years since I've made icons. So if I'm rusty, I'm sorry. :)

Comment. Credit. Don't Edit.

Mass Effect 1&2

My Movie Shepard:

Seth Green:

crossposted @ masseffect
screencaps done by various (if you recognize one of your caps and need me to credit, let me know.)

[fanfiction] "After Effect" - 100 Drabbles 1/100

roadtriphome — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 03:07:44 GMT

Title: "After Effect" - Girl in the Wall
Author: roadtriphome
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Beginnings
Note: This is my sorta first fic for Mass Effect, so I'm still working with the universe and my Shepard. This was terribly fun to write, and is a bit longer than a drabble I think. Ficlet perhaps? Not beta-ed.
Disclaimer: Mass Effect and the blank slate of Shepard is the property of Bioware, while Galaxy, M.O. Simmons and Commander Stribog are mine.
Summary: The last of the Alliance teams scout the Mindoir for survivors, ready to leave the decimated colony. The fate of the future falls unknowingly on Medical Officer Simmons shoulders when he comes across Galaxy Shepard.

001. Beginnings – “Girl in the Wall”
“Sir, it’s still showing life-signs here.” Medical Officer Simmons waved his Omni-tool over the wall of the colony’s tech building. A wave of light pulsed on the hologrid in front of his face, revealing something humanoid.

Commander Stribog reached out and knocked on the metallic wall, immediately getting a response. The figure began to crawl towards the ducts overhead, hardly making any sound as it did so. It was planning on sneaking out the ducts and into the ship-hold.

“Maybe it’s a colonist, sir.” Simmons rushed over to the duct vent and peered inside. “Hey! Don’t run! We’re here to help! We’re Alliance.”

In the darkness, he saw a girl’s eyes look at him, frozen like a trapped animal. He knew that look, it was the same one that other survivors had when they found them. It said their ears had heard the screams of their families dying and of kids being captured to be enslaved. Their eyes had seen friends raped and ripped apart. Their nose knew the smell murder-blood and their mouth knew the taste of hunger and instinct.

He backed away from the duct, putting his hands in the air. “Come on out, the Slavers are gone.”

She crept closer to the vent covering and eyed them. Her wide, green eyes were glassy from hunger and days, weeks in the dark. For a moment he was sure she was studying their uniforms, classifying their guns, reading their body language. This had been her saving grace against the Slavers, he wagered. Nothing escaped her senses or her constantly questioning mind. Everyone was broken apart and put back together before she pushed her hand against the vent grate and looked back at him.

Simmons tugged and the grate easily fell to the floor. The loud noise made her shrink back, but he raised his hands again, open palmed. She calmed, one skinny leg slinking out of the duct while another one followed. Her legs could hardly support her, hunger and lack of movement having taken their hold over her. No one neared her as she sat on the cold floor and looked up at them.

She was skin and bones, her eyes sunken in and shadowed with lack of sleep and nutrients. Her greasy brown hair was grayed with dust and snaking over her head in a sloppy tail to keep out of her way. The Omni-tool over her arm flickered, weak from over use. Simmon’s realized she had been in the dark much longer than he thought, but her eyes stayed wide as if she didn’t dare close them.

Suddenly, she tugged at her clothes, pulling them tight around her as if to protect her dignity. They were dirty and ripped in various loose spots. They had snagged on pipes and tight spaces, burns wrapped in shreds of pant and sleeve.

Simmons knelt down, his hands finally resting on his knees. “Is there anyone else behind their, miss?”

The girl shook her head.

“Can you tell us your name?” Commander Stribog finally asked.

She looked at them both again, studying them before she opened her mouth. It closed after a few moments of silence, as if she had lost her ability to speak. It had been so long, he figured, since she had allowed herself to make a sound.

Her fist hit the metallic floor with a weak thud, mouth opening again. “Shepard. Galaxy.” She replied in a hoarse voice, small and hardly disturbing the air around her. She watched intently as he put in her name and discovered her parents.

“Galaxy Shepard, daughter of Hannah and Jim Shepard. They owned the farm on the edge of the colony.” Simmons waved the Omni-tool over the girl and felt relieved at her lack of bodily trauma. “She’s going to need food, vitamins, and a bath, but she’s relatively unscathed… in a sense.”

Commander Stribog shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Miss Shepard, would you allow us to bring you back to the ship? We’re the last of the teams scouting the area and I’d hate to leave you here with no resources.”

Galaxy appeared to think over her options, studying them again. She even looked off towards the hallways that lead into the science buildings and community center. A colonist kid only knew metal and foreign soil, so the thought of leaving, he was sure, made her nervous.

But she surprised him, suddenly holding up her arms for him to lift her off the floor. Her large green eyes looked up at him with determination, as if to say she was ready for anything.

“We’ll have a few of the privates return to your house and pack your things once we get you to safety.” Commander Stribog replied, already heading towards the door that led to the docks.

Simmons knew his commanding officer was trying to distance himself from the girl, even if she needed human contact more than anything right now. The older man had seen too many people dead that day to think of such a thing, and could be forgiven the cold shoulder.

Simmons let the girl wrap her arms around his neck as he tucked her legs over his arm and cradled her close. She was too light, so much so that he hardly struggled with her. At sixteen, she should have given him just a little trouble, especially for a farming kid.

As they made their way to the docks, he tried to keep her talking. Anything to make sure she was distracted as they passed bodies – Slaver and colonist alike. She hid her face in his uniform coat, but didn’t cry. He was sure she had already cried enough, alone and without anyone to comfort her.

“Was it you that poisoned the Bartarians in the Community Center? I saw your Omni-tool registry in the science lab. That was pretty clever, using chemicals and locking the room. We’d of never gotten in when we did if you hadn’t.” He looked down at her and realized he had overstepped a line somewhere.

Galaxy looked guilty and clutched at his shirt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt anybody…” She covered her mouth. “They just… there’s no one left… They killed my mom, my dad… my friends. I saw them crate little kids… feed…” She opened her eyes wide again breathing heavy. “I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t save anyone. They told me to run. Hide. Survive…”

She was beginning to hyperventilate, the stress of a month alone and with her thoughts finally taking their toll. Simmons wrapped an arm around her head and tucked her under his chin. If he could pull her any closer, he would have. He couldn’t imagine being sixteen and having to slowly poison anyone. But with no weapons or training, all she had were her wits.

She was incredibly brave.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Galaxy. Take deep breaths and try and remember what those bastards did. You saved a lot of lives. I know you wanted to save your colony, but you can’t blame yourself for that. You’re alive, and because of that, no one’ll be forgotten.” He reached into his utility belt and brought out a shot of sleeping agent.

Galaxy grabbed his wrist weakly at the sight of it. “Please… I don’t want to dream.” She shook her head, terror in every feature. “They’re there, pulling me out of walls… Everyone’s screaming…”

Her heart raced under his fingertips, but she relented, letting go of his wrist to clutch at his shirt again.

He pressed the applicator against her inner arm and injected the chemical into her system. It left a small circle of dots against her skin. “You’re the bravest girl in the whole universe…”

Her voice was small and sad under his throat. “I’m just a Shepard…”

crossposted @ masseffect

she walked away in her dreams...

roadtriphome — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 16:36:39 GMT

Jessilyn Schmeichel-Franklin. Thank you for being my catalyst and nurturing make-believe in my heart. A part of you will always be there. I hope you know that in the great beyond. May you be reborn in this lifetime with all the knowledge you gained in this life. I'll miss you, even though our paths separated a long time ago. Know that I always cared, even if I never told you. I have always, and will always, check in on you. I hope that you will do the same.

Rest in peace.

1984-2010

She always loved this picture.

Edit: "Four days ago Jessilyn started feeling bad. She was having body pain that was steadily getting worse. So she was admitted to Baylor of Garland. They determined that she had some type of blood disorder but test results w...on't be back till later in the week. Today she had a pretty rough day and her heart rate was getting high so they moved her to ICU. At 1:06 this morning she died at the age of 24." -- Family & Friends, via Facebook

[Short Fic] 100 Days: Sixth Sense [FemDalishPC/Zevran]

roadtriphome — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 15:44:08 GMT

Crossposted in zevran, dragon_age, swooping_is_bad

Title: 100 Days: 035. Sixth Sense
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins
Pairing: FemPC/Zevran (Dalish), FemPC&Everyone
Challenge Word: "035. Sixth Sense"
Summary: The Mage Circle has been saved, and the Gray Wardens are allowed to stay the evening before returning to Redcliffe. Zevran's nightmare has left him shaken and he doesn't feel very comfortable staying in a place that can see him so clearly...
Note: The 2nd or 3rd story in my 100 Days fic challenge for myself. I wanted to post this here first before I posted it on my ff.net page so I can get any feedback that might help me make sure this isn't crap. So please, feedback away. Cause either I go with this or I start going out of story order and posting something that happens in the middle of the story just to go in number order. *lol* This is also a little AU, timeline wise and magic wise, some of you might notice, but I'm playing with a few things that weren't explored, especially Elven Magic. I'll leave it at that lest I be spoilery.

You can find the first part of the story here. And the Summary goes as this: Lyna of the Dalish clan Mahariel has been ripped away from everything she's ever known to save her life and soon a world of others from the taint of the Darkspawn and the Archdemon Urthemiel. It will take a handsome assassin to lead her back home.

It was dusk when Zevran had returned from the baths to finish packing. They would be leaving the Mage Circle in the morning and he still needed to square away what provisions the Mages had given him. There had been few spare clothes, food, and extras that were salvageable, but they were insistent.

He was grateful, but felt uneasy about staying any longer in the tower. Something felt as if it were searching him out. It was a desperate nagging that pulled at his psyche and he wished it would go away, lest he search it out himself and rid the pest.

“Ser?” A girl’s voice startled him suddenly, a rare feat for non-assassins.

He turned to find several Elven apprentices, youths of all ages, looking as though they hadn’t left each other’s sides for days.

“Yes?” Zevran tried to make himself say more, anything to break the cold fear welling up in his stomach, but their familiar faces somehow shut him off.

“It’s good to see you haven’t lost your tie to the Roots, children.” Lyna replied, appearing beside him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Come here.”

She motioned for them to come to her and they leapt into action, tears pouring down their faces as they wrapped arms around her in any way possible. Zevran kept back, surprised by her sudden serene nature. She clutched a child’s head, resting hers on its matted red hair. She caught his eye and frowned, the feeling of dread threatening to burn a hole in his stomach. His entire being screamed for him to runaway, to get as far away from such an emotional display lest he be moved in any way. It was a part of his training. A part of how he had survived for so many years.

It had been so long since he had seen anyone show such affection for complete strangers.

Lyna’s head rose up and she stood straight, the children seeming to regain their composure. She reached out and took one of the older apprentices, barely seventeen years of age, by the shoulders. The young man’s eyes held back enough pain to bring about demons that very moment, and it made Zevran shudder as the Gray Warden placed a kiss on his forehead, speaking a prayer against her mark.

“Mythal and Elgar'nan guide thee and ease your loss. May Falon'Din bring you to her in your passing. Dirthamen send his ravens Fear and Deceit to those who took her from you.” She pulled back, her hands clutching his face. “Lethallin, it is up to you to unite your people here. Mage or not, you are still of Elven blood. We must stand strong or we will never have the strength to raise Elvhenan again. Do you hear me child?”

He nodded, the strain in his face ebbing away with every breath. “I will, Gray Warden. I will.”

“You all will rise above this cage and root again, I swear it. Gods bless you and find you in the Beyond. Be wary of Fen’Harel, he will trick you if you stray. So keep your clan safe, Lethallin. Don’t let this happen again.” She let her hands fall and looked around at the young faces surrounding her. “You are clan, my brethren. No matter if you hailed from the Alienages or were stolen from the Dalish. Mythal protect you, and I hope to return to see you again, wise as you are brilliant. Understand?”

“Yes, Gray Warden!” They said in unison, their spirits lifted. It was as if a dark mist had faded and the firelight above their heads glowed brighter.

She waved them away with a smile that hid a softness rarely seen in battle. “Go, come back before supper, and I will tell you of your Pantheon and the way of your people.”

The children ran off, their steps lighter than before. It left him shaking, but he clenched his fists to hold it back the best he could.

When they were alone in the hallway, the hum of silence deafening, Lyna turned to him and closed the distance between them. Before he could comment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clutched his head. “Breath deep and close your eyes. Think of a forest clearing…”

Despite himself, he did as he was told, relaxing as her body pressed against his. A weight was melting away and it felt as if Lyna was sifting through him. She was touching something he wasn’t ready to give and his hands unconsciously clutched at her hips, squeezing them with a groan.

For a moment he saw the clearing and Lyna’s calm, quiet face, but somewhere in her Beyond there was something watching. They were too close to it all. All the magic in the air was affecting any sense of calm he might have gotten from Elven magic. It scared him, whatever it was she was doing…

And then it was gone. The shake, the feeling of dread – it had vanished with the wolf at his back.

Her body fell away from his before he realized his eyes were still closed and she was staring up at him. Zevran quickly hid right before her eyes, offering her a familiar smirk to ease her mind.

“If you are not careful, my dear Gray Warden, the Templar’s will lock you up too.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in close. “You’ll have to teach me that trick later.”

“You already know it, Lethallin. We are all connected…” Lyna frown, her eyes tired and full of a want he couldn’t place.

Suddenly, boots sounded heavily against the stone floors before Sten appeared behind Lyna. “Warden, the mages are offering food. They command your presence.”

Her eyes lingered on his before she turned and smiled at Sten. “I’ll be right there. Make sure Alistair doesn’t boil anything.”

As Sten disappeared back down the hallway, Lyna reached out and lightly grasped his hand. He was surprised that it shuddered like his had earlier.

“Children are louder than their elders.” She explained. “That’s why we can sense them from miles away. I didn’t want you to suffer, especially not after such a nightmare.”

Her hand fell away and she turned away, leaving him to watch as her hand visibly shook from the cold dread he once felt.

[Short Fic] "Lethallin" [FemPC/Zevran]

roadtriphome — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 03:17:05 GMT

Title: Lethallin
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins
Pairing: FemPC/Zevran (Dalish), FemPC&Everyone
Challenge Word: "001. Beginnings"
Summary: It's the evening after the events of Zevran's joining and it's up to the Dalish Warden to welcome him into the group.
Note: So, my first Dragon Age fic. Be gentle, but I'd love some feedback. Zevran's a hard guy to write. There's hopefully going to be sequels, so your thoughts are welcome. Now all of you attempt a word challenge! Go here and pick a word and have fun! :)

It was late in the evening when they finally set up camp, each of them weary and almost to the point of collapse. Only Morrigan had any energy to throw what scraps and herbs they had into a pot and call it supper.

The quiet of the campsite rung in her ears, making Lyna feel uneasy. All the nights before had been chatty and pleasant amongst their tents, but tonight a shadow sat out of sight, slowly assembling his tent. Even though Zevran’s back was turn, she knew he was listening for any sign that they were whispering about him. She could sense the defenses building up all around his body, ready to survive through wit and charm alone if he had to. He was easier to read than he knew. He was Elven, despite himself, and the earth hummed at their feet as it reconnected their roots, welcoming him back to his people without him knowing it.

Lyna blinked, realizing she had been staring and Morrigan was pressing a crude bowl of soup into her hands. “Wake up, this slop isn’t edible cold.” Her voice went down an octave, almost a whisper between them. “And don’t you dare give him anything.”

She glared at Morrigan’s back as she left, wishing she had the gall to throw something at the human’s head. It was a wonder how they got along.

Everyone drew into their tents for the night, tired and wanting to eat in peace, she supposed. The elven assassin had caused so much tension in the last few hours of the day that it was a wonder he didn’t sneak away when they weren’t looking.

She, despite her company, felt differently. Lyna drew several ladles of soup into a bowl and stood, stepping quietly towards Zevran’s tent so as not to startle the camp. The ex-assassin immediately heard her, looking up from sharpening his blades.

“Are you sure you want to feed the man that just hours ago tried to kill you?” The elf smirked, if only slightly. There had hardly been time for him to collect himself before they were off again and he looked it.

“Last I remember, Lethallin, you were paid to kill me. I carry no ills for you, only Logain.” She handed him the bowl and took a seat where the glow of the fire could reveal their faces. “Even, it would be a great burden on me to kill a fellow elf, especially one who has not been welcomed back into the clans.”

The smirk died a little, curiosity hidden under a cautious glint that held her in the firelight. “What did you just call me? I’ve been called many things, but that word escapes me.”

She took a bite of her stew and hid her smile behind her spoon. “It means “friend”. Abelas, I meant no harm by it if that offends you.”

The smirk returned full force, his white teeth gleaming in the yellow light. “Ah, you feed me and call me friend after an afternoon of almost killing each other. If this were another life, we would be making love by firelight in Antiva by now.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she found herself biting back a laugh. “Oh, and such a suggestive bite of the lip - you tease me, woman.” Zevran leaned back, a hand to his chest, a true smile gracing his lips, she realized, before he quickly tucked it back into hiding.

Lyna heard him give a small, tired sigh, half hidden by a bite of stew. “I’m sorry, Zevran, I should leave you be. You’ve had a long day and you need your rest.”

She went to stand, but a smooth, firm hand took her own and drew it to warm lips. Hot breath grazed her skin and she felt her body shiver as Zevran kissed her hand.

“Thank you, Warden. You have made a grateful man of me. I am in your debt.” He let her hand slip from his as he took another bite from his bowl. “Good night.”

Lyna felt her skin flush suddenly, clutching her soup bowl tightly. Without realizing it, she took only a step back towards her tent before turning around again. “Vir Adahlen, Lethallin. Sleep well.”

Without another word she rushed off to her tent, sets of curious eyes at her back.

[Fanfic] fanfic100 - Sky High - Layla/Warren

roadtriphome — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 07:26:26 GMT

Fandom: Sky High
Timeline: Post-movie
Storyline so far: It's the first day of school and Layla is fresh off her relationship with Will (they broke up after realizing how sibling-like their love for each other was). Trying to get her bearings with a new school year away from her best friend she finds herself bonding with someone tall, dark and familiar.

Layla took a deep breath and walked into Professor Medulla’s science lab, taking a seat in the back of the class. It was the first day of sophomore year and she was going at it alone. Over the summer, Will and she had decided the relationship had been too weird. That despite the fight to win each other’s hearts, sometimes being so close for so long can make you realize how wrong you are for each other.

And even, kissing one other, they realized, was like kissing your sibling.

Magenta’s voice echoed in her head at the thought. “Oh that’s just so wrong.”

Her best female friend was lucky, she had Zack; who despite appearances was more of a gentleman than anyone could have imagined. They appreciated each other’s powers and they made sure their attitudes were kept in check. That wasn’t to say Will wasn’t good at that, but now they appreciated each other’s friendship more so than they used to. She figured they needed a recharge after so many years. Getting too comfortable had its problems and last year was their wake up call.

Layla blinked, shaking herself out of her thoughts. Someone had come to sit down beside her and the smell of burning wood and Old Spice was familiar.

“Hey hippie.” Warren Peace brushed her shoulder with his coat as he shook it off and tossed it over his backpack on the floor.

The sight of her older friend surprised her. Layla hadn’t seen him since school let out, her summer vacation full of time spent traveling with the Strongholds. She had hoped to stop into the Paper Lantern the last week of break to see how he had been, but summer homework had prevented her from even considering it.

He wasn’t even supposed to be in Sophomore Science.

“Warren, not that I’m not happy to see you, but aren’t you suppose to be in Junior Science?” Layla attempted to look amused, but Warren had a way of making her confused instead.

A rare smile peeked out where only she could see it. “Funny thing about Principle Powers, she wants to see me try Sophomore year again with the right people. I didn’t do so good in classes either.” He shrugged. “I’d rather work and read honestly.”

A smile broke past her defenses and she noticed his face light up. “So I guess you didn’t do any of your science homework, did you?”

He made a face and motioned towards Professor Medulla’s desk. “Hell no, of course I did it. That guy scares me. You know what he could do to me with one of his power crystals?” Warren shuttered, making her laugh.

Before she could ask what his paper was over, the Professor walked into class and commanded their attention. They both shared a small smile before attempting to understand anything that came out of Medulla’s mouth.

The first day of school wasn’t looking so bad after all.

The hallway was noisy with sounds of students hurrying off to the cafeteria. Layla let herself take her time with getting her things into her locker before a voice startled her enough that she slammed its door.

Warren’s voice rumbled. “I can’t imagine you aren’t starving, Hippie.”

“Warren!” She shoved him lightly, forgetting herself. “You’re like a ninja.” He grinned, looking a little embarrassed in the process. “And for your information, I’ve been munching on granola bars, so I’m okay. You shouldn’t knock Vegetarianism.”

He held up a hand in defense. “Hey, I didn’t say anything. You’re the one who eats what she can control.”

She squenched up her face and realized he might have been right. But the plants didn’t complain and they seemed happy to keep her alive. She did everything she could to keep them going and they knew when it was their time to go. Animals didn’t get that choice.

Layla shrugged and he took it as their cue to leave, making their way to the cafeteria. They took a seat at the same table they had the previous year, finding the others having already set up shop. They said their hellos and asked how their first day was going before they grew quiet and started in on lunch.

She admired his choice of Chinese food leftovers while he stole a dressing covered crouton with his chopsticks. It was hard to complain when he looked so smug doing it. It was a face she had forgotten was so easy to warm to.

Soon, Will settled into his usual seat at the table and pinched Layla’s arm without asking her how her day was. They would talk about it after school, if he had time. She was starting to get used to his busy schedule and glad for the time apart, best friends or not. Who could say that about an ex-boyfriend?

Looking back at Warren she found him studying her, a curious glint in his eye that made her blush. She had forgotten how his eyes easily got the best of her if she wasn’t prepared. A part of her felt bad for feeling so embarrassed. She had to peek at Will just long enough to see if he was uncomfortable with the attention.

He was unphased. Genuinely smiling as he turned back to Zack.

A smile broke out across her face and she let herself relax.

Layla felt like a new person.

On the bus ride home, Layla felt strange without Warren beside her. She couldn’t figure out why, but her friend had already made it apparent that without him there, she felt cold. Will noticed the uncomfortable look as soon as they descended.

“Hey, long time no see.” He smiled over at her, helping her feel a little better. “You look a little lost.”

She took a deep breath and sighed, giving him a shrug. “Warren’s in all my classes, I guess it’s just weird not to have him on the same bus too.”

“Yeah, I noticed you two hanging out a lot today. It’s gotta suck to have to repeat Sophomore year.” Layla saw him look down, processing something. “At least he’s got you though.”

“You don’t mind me hanging out with him?” She blurted out, a little surprised by his comment.

He huffed out a laugh. “Nah, why should I?” The knowing smirk that hung between them answered so many questions she didn’t even know she still had. Will was still her best friend, still her brother in arms – even if she shared her time with someone else. She loved that quality about him. Their wake up call had brought back so much that was missing.

Leaning on his shoulder, she softly squeezed his hand, letting him ruffle her hair.

“Do I get to pummel him if he makes you mad?” Will said, his smile showing through his words.

She hit him in the arm. “Will!”

Two more prompts for this day: "Insides" and "Outsides".

[drabble] The Boss's Favorite [Saints Row]

roadtriphome — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 06:58:53 GMT

Fandom: Saints Row 2
Pairing: Protagonist (Kat)/Carlos
Summary: After Carlos' run in with the Brotherhood, Kat realizes she feels more for Carlos than she originally thought.
Note: Actually a part of much bigger story, but this just suddenly came to me. The part before this should be done soon.

“Kat…” Carlos looked down, rubbing his neck. “Look, I never got to… thank you. Anybody else and they would have shot me, put me out of my misery… but you didn’t give up on me. I mean… that took a lot of guts…”

Kat felt her eyes burn, like they had when she finally was able to see him alone in the hospital. She blinked, taking a deep breath. The Boss didn’t cry in front of her lieutenants. A leader was supposed to be detached…

Looking back over at Carlos, Kat met his eyes and felt the burn give way to a hot burn down her cheeks. A part of her felt like screaming, angry at revealing so much. A part of her felt whole. That side of her pushed her forward and Kat took Carlos’ face gently in her hands. A shiver ran through her at the sight of his big, confused, brown eyes and she pressed her lips against his.

Five years of mental solitude crashed around her, his lips and hands seeming to rip down walls she had built after Troy, after Julius.

Kat opened her eyes suddenly when she realized he was pulling away. She blinked, looking around a little to make sure she wasn’t just having a dream. Instead she found Carlos holding her arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against hers.

“Hold up…” He let his hands graze down her arms and pulled at her jean loops to get her to move from her side of the couch to his. She straddled him, keeping her arms around his neck. He let his hands rest on her waist and looks slightly embarrassed. “Do you kiss all your lieutenants like that, Boss?”

A rare smile pulled at her lips. “Only you, Carlos.”

Her lieutenant looked up, looking serious and ready for anything she threw at him. She leaned down and brushed his lips with hers again and Carlos followed suite with surprising ferocity.

It was only when she heard footsteps that she faltered and pulled her piece from the back of her jeans and threatened any living soul who dared bother her at that moment. Far off, Shaundi and Pierce quickly turned on their heels, heading back to the elevator.

“Ulp, club closed guys! Fuck off, or there’s going to be a bullet for each of us!” Pierce yelled.

[fic] Under a New Light (Fallout 3 fic)

roadtriphome — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 02:15:06 GMT

Title: “Under a New Light” by Erin
Fandom: Fallout 3
Rating: PG13
Summary: After "Project Purity", life begins to return to the Wasteland, but the rain that's begun to fall on D.C. has brought about more problems for the scattered settlements. It's up to the Lone Wanderer to help her people once again.
Author note: What's great about this story is, I don't think you have to have played the game to understand what's going on even thought this takes place two weeks after everything, even the DLCs, have taken place. Of course, this is more like a Mod of the game in story form.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Mary and the writing. Bethesda and Interplay are made of awesome.

Prologue: The Cup Overfloweth

It had been raining for two weeks now, ever since Project Purity had begun. As the water in the river was cleaned and pumped back out, the weather had started to noticeably change. The heat had evaporated enough to affect the radiated clouds and moisture (what was left of it) in the air. The acid rain that fell for the first couple of days sent the citizens of Megaton indoors, only coming out to help the less fortunate find shelter in the storm.

At the end of second week, on the seventh day, Mary woke and sat up, pushing back the ratty curtain of her window to find rain water dripping into her house again. She had yet to find a pane of glass that wasn’t broken to fix the issue, but there was something more important than rain rusting her walls. Reaching out through the holes in the old fencing, she drew back her fingers to taste the water carefully, waiting for the bitter taste of radioactivity - except there was none.

Looking up, she noticed the clouds were lighter and the sun was beginning to peek through in places. The rain was letting up, but it was only a break between a storm she was sure would follow.

“Hey kid!” Jericho called up from the platform connecting their homes. “Kid! Hurry up and come down to the Lantern! Bring a bucket!”

Without questioning her usually irritable neighbor, Mary pulled on her clothes and rushed downstairs to grab a hat and bucket. When she finally made it down to the center of town, she was muddy and knee deep in water. It was easy to slip down the stairs, but harder to climb out of the pond that had formed around the bomb. She could feel her feet tingle with the burn of radiation, but Jericho grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her up to the safety of the clinic.

Safe, she glanced around to find almost everyone standing on the ledges overlooking the rising waters. Everyone that is, except for the Children of Atom. They were pulling in buckets of radiated water and pouring it over themselves and filling several tubs that had been scavenged from local spots.

“That bomb is just going to keep contaminating all the water…” Lucas muttered, loud enough for her to realize he was beside her.

She looked up and kept her voice low. “I’m more worried about Megaton flooding, honestly.”

He nodded, but didn’t respond right off. His eyes wandered the buildings rounding up the hole that made up most of Megaton.

“The local trader,” Lucas motioned up at a familiar man standing above them. “Says the rain is moving East and it should be clear by tonight. We can’t wait though, we need to get everything moved up or we need to get that bomb out of here and start digging drains. I don’t care which; let’s just get it done quickly.”

“I agree, but…” Mary looked over the muddy mess. She had to plan, but it would take some time for the mud to dry if they were going to do anything major. “The Lantern is our main concern, if the rains are stopping soon. Get the Stahl’s to pull everything inside and we can put up a wall to keep the water back. As soon as it’s dry, we can hire settlers to help build it higher, but I think I might have some ideas on getting the bomb out.”

He nodded, turning her way. “I’d like to hear it.”

“No time.” She waved him off. “Let’s make sure everyone’s safe from the water.”

“Alright.” Lucas turned away from her and began to take control of the situation. “Everyone! If we’re going to keep Megaton safe and dry we’re going to have to make use of what we’ve got. Sandbags, metal and nails, planks of wood – whatever we can use, start building a wall around that water while we still have a chance! There will be a town meeting – yes, even for you settlers stuck here – this evening. Now let’s stop wasting daylight people, we’ll have another storm moving in soon.”

Mary watched as everyone headed off in different directions, immediately getting what they could. She had to admit she was amazed there were no objections or anyone running off for safer pastures. All anyone had was Megaton, she figured. One might as well save the only town that showed any promise.

For a few rushed hours, people slipped and sloshed through the muddy bottom of Megaton, avoiding the water like a plague. A wall began to rise up around the pool that had formed, blocking off the Lantern’s noodle bar and giving Doc a nice waterfront view. Still, when night eventually fell over them, no one felt any safer. The wall would only give them a few more days to move or build on higher ground.

Megaton was looking less and less like home.

Chapter 1: Out of Megaton

In low light, Mary watched her father nurse a cup of coffee. She could feel the grit and grime of days past. It must have been quite a sight for her father. Where had she been? Who had she been helping? What day was it? How long had it been since they left the Vault?

He rubbed his face and leaned on his hand, studying her with tired blue eyes. “What are you doing out there?”

She looked down at her water, its clarity still mystifying. “I’m doing what I couldn’t do back in the Vault – making a difference.” She admired a cut that ran up her arm. “I like helping people.”

Her father reached out and tilted her chin up so she had to look him in the eye. “Just don’t forget to take are of yourself.”

* * *

Mary woke with a start, realizing she had dozed off while waiting for the town meeting to get under way. It was late in the evening before anyone had had a chance to pull together anything. The rains had caused many people to have to escape to Megaton and the Common House was beginning to get so crowded that many people had to set up camp in Morarity’s. The tension was obvious and Mary was making sure no one tried to lessen the numbers. Lucas was busy listening to everyone’s complaints, taking it all in before he even tried to take anyone down a peg.

Voices jumbled and rose louder and louder over Morarity’s smoky bar. The building had hardly seen so many people, but the Irishman quietly enjoyed the potential for business. Gob had retreated to a nearby corner with Nova and they spoke quietly under the commotion of the townspeople. There were the Stahls whose main concern was the Lantern and the supplies coming in from the traders. Colin had to agree, if not with a few snide remarks about being in the town first. Billy Creel was merely concerned for Maggie and Harden’s safety, one of the few citizens thinking of someone other than themselves. Doc wasn’t sure how many people he was going to be able to treat for colds or radiation poisoning, but he was sure medical supplies would run out before bodies did. Several roaming Wastelanders spoke up as well, pointing out how dangerous the Waste was becoming now that the rains had begun to revitalize the land. The wildlife had been bad before, but now they were multiplying and hunters were finding it hard to travel because of the mud and washed out roads.

Everything was against them, even the very things that kept them alive. The re-realization made her feel tired and responsible all over again. These were her people, her friends, her family – and she couldn’t stand seeing them suffer. Not when there were possibilities they had yet to explore. If the flooding bottom hadn’t been enough to inspire such a thought, the voices of concern surrounding her would have brought it to the forefront.

Mary rubbed her face and she felt Billy’s hand give her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“We have to leave Megaton.” She finally said, amazed how quiet a room became when she spoke.

For a moment, Mary braced herself for an outburst of disapproval. When there wasn’t one, she looked up to find the crowded bar in various stages of realization. It was clear that she had hit the nail on the head. Prodded the thought no one wanted to voice. Megaton had outgrown its possibilities.

She raised a hand, sighing at the sadness in some of the more ragged settlers. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not my place.”

Lucas waved the apology off. “The hell I’m going to let you keep quiet about this. If there’s one person we should hear from, it’s you. I’ve lost count how many times you’ve saved our collective asses or brought this side of the Wasteland together. If it weren’t for you, we’d have kissed dirt months ago.”

Mary looked down, embarrassed. “I just did what I had to do…” She rubbed her neck and smiled up at the bar. They all looked so hopeful when she talked. “Well, if you’re interested I have a few ideas. We’re all going to have to work together though, and it’s not going to be easy.”

No one appeared to object. Several people even, citizens and settlers alike, voiced their approval and raised their drinks her way.

“Go ahead girl, you got our attention.” Billy nudged her and grinned when she looked his way.

Standing, Mary took a deep breath and began to move around the room, remembering the many meetings she attended in the Citadel. “Alright, if we’re all in agreement, we know that we need to tear town and move out. We have to tie up a few loose ends though before we can actually see this through. First things firsts, we have to do something about the bomb.”

A settler raised a hand to catch her attention. “But it’s been disarmed, can’t we just leave it here for Atom’s Children to worship?” The man looked around at his fellow roamers. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not get near that thing.”

Jenny spoke up before Mary could. “Mary has a point. If we move the bomb, the church will move with it. They can’t stay here, they’ll be washed out. Or worse, they’ll drown!”

“Right,” she continued. “It might take some persuading, but I think we can get them and the bomb to higher ground so we can begin moving out of here. It would be… cruel, to leave them here alone and defenseless after they’ve helped this town for so long. Without them, this town might not have had the chance that it had. That isn’t to say they have to follow us though, because let’s be honest, disarmed or not, we would all sleep better knowing that bomb is far enough away that even some idiot with a sledgehammer isn’t going to set that thing off.”

“Here! Here!” Lucas voiced, raising a water.

“Okay, so we make sure Atom’s Children are safe and then what? Where do we go? Last I checked, I don’t think we’re all going to fit in a Super-Duper Mart.” Leo pointed out.

“You’re right.” Mary agreed, “We have a few solid places around here at our disposal, but they need to be scouted first. I wager it would be a bad idea to go any where but closer to the city, but I want all of you to be sure that you’re okay with that idea. If we head for the city, we have concrete and high ground to keep us safe. There’s even the Brotherhood patrolling the area, taking care of any Super Mutants or the like that might invade us before we can rebuild walls. It’s really the best choice outside of rebuilding from scratch. What with Raiders, rain and everything else, it’s all we’ve got.”

The thought of the city visibly made the room uncomfortable, but the brief nods she got made it clear that it was a risk they were going to have to take. Everywhere else didn’t have the sort of protection the city had. If Megaton was finished, the next best choice was downtown.

“Alright people, it’s late and we should all sleep on this. In the morning I want to hear from everyone. I will speak with the Church to see if I can talk them into moving first. If Miss Mary or I have anything to add about all this, we’ll send word to each of you one way or another.” Lucas neared her and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Meeting adjourned. May your water always be pure.”

The room raised their glasses collectively before taking their leave. Several people shook her hand on their way out and wished her luck with her travels before it was just her and Lucas at their corner table. Both Colin and Nova had retreated to their rooms, but Gob stayed up to clean the bar and listen to Agatha’s soothing violin playing on the radio. He even gave her another bottle of water without charge.

Lucas took off his hat and set it on the table to scratch his dry scalp without being watched. “I didn’t want to ask in front of everyone, but where exactly do you plan on sending our little Church? I hope somewhere far and isolated.”

She nodded, looking down at her pipboy. One place seemed the best spot for two old, slightly rad-crazed cultist and their followers. It was no where near a town and the area’s reputation would help to keep them safe long enough for people to realize they were living around a nuclear bomb. Even with it disarmed, that would make anyone wary of being near people who hoped it detonated.

“Paradise Falls. It’s isolated, fortified, and ready to move into… except for maybe a few bodies.” She smirked a little and Lucas huffed with laughter.

“Okay, I can live with that. I’ll speak to Cromwell and Maya in the morning. Maybe I can talk them into thinking this is some holy journey.”

She gave him a short laugh. “The radiation has really messed with their heads hasn’t it?”

He nodded. “I’m surprised we’re as sane as we are… Though I guess that begs the question: What sane person lives in a town built around an atom bomb?”

“Desperate people.” Mary breathed, taking a sip of her water. “I’ll have to go into the city and speak with the Pride about helping us. They’ve been working on restoring the trucks around here for salvage and ground travel. If we can get several running, we might be able to haul the bomb that way. It might take everyone with ropes to pull it out of the hole though.”

He downed half of his bottle of water, giving the bar a look over. “If you’re in the city, you might as well start mapping out any plans you have about getting us in and settled. It might help everyone feel better.” Lucas looked back at her. “Are you going to be okay out there by yourself?”

Mary laughed softly. “Don’t worry about me, if the Brotherhood Knights at every possible lookout point in the city aren’t enough, Fawkes and Dogmeat will be with me. But if you don’t hear from me in two days, send a search party for me.” She grinned but he wasn’t laughing.

“I want you to be careful. I don’t know what we’d do without you, Mary.” Lucas replied, his voice as grim as his features. “I know I’ve thanked you a thousand times for helping us, but I really am thankful that you and your father set foot in our town.”

She nodded, patting his hand as she stood to leave. “Don’t think anything of it, Lucas. The Wastes are all I have left.”

[fic] Still Alive [Portal]

roadtriphome — Sun, 28 Sep 2008 06:53:23 GMT

Title: "Still Alive"
Fandom: Portal (Half-Life Universe)
Spoilers: Portal's ending and potential non-theories
Warning: Un-beta'd
Summary: Chell gets her cake, metaphorically and in reality.
Author's Note: I've never played Half-Life, but I'd done a bit of reading and have hopefully set Portal between or after HL1 and 2, which Portal alludes to - or so I've read. This took me a few hours to write up and the idea may be a bit strange. I got a few ideas from this post I read, but I also thought that it would be could if Chell got some perks post-game.

I should be dead. It was the first thought that came to Chell’s mind when she woke to find herself merely stunned by her fall. The scientists had been right about the impact braces; they were life savers.

The thought of the days before she had come to the Enrichment Center with her father stung in a way she had to admire. How long had it been since she had seen the outside world? By now, Chell figured the memories would be too dull from the drain of survival – but they were fresh and bright like the sky overhead. Overbearingly vibrant.

Rolling over, she could barely see where she had been sucked out from. Smoke made it hard to tell where the facility ended and the sky began. Debris had stopped falling, the smell of plastic and metal heavy in the air. It was almost satisfying if it weren’t for the fact that she still felt mixed about it all.

In a moment, it seems, Chell realized as she incinerated each personality of GLaDOS – that it was all she had left. Its childlike curiosity, its almost animalistic anger, its corrupted intelligence obsessed with the cake she was going to receive after she completed the test…

She had been so excited when her father had let her finally test the portal program.

GLaDOS still echoed inside her head, forcing her to close her eyes and press her palms against them. All she had left was that computer. That mix of tones and emotions that only a fully aware, man made device could harbor. The electronic voice guiding her and eventually leading her to her potential doom hid behind a persona she could tell was trapped just like her.

That persona was too far gone though – and its sad voice, filtering through the angry threats, knew it. Death was the only option.

Look, we’re both stuck in this place. I’ll use lasers to inscribe a line down the center of the facility and one half will be where you live and I’ll live in the other half. We won’t have to try and kill each other or even talk if we don’t feel like it. This isn’t brave, it’s murder. What did I ever do to you? The difference between us is that I can feel pain…

She was alone.

A sound suddenly caught her off guard. The skitter of claws on concrete made her quickly sit up and stand as a large…

Chell gaped at the creature that rushed her. The portal gun felt heavy and useless at her side, as she quickly backed away. The sound rounded the back of her and she turned just in time to find another one leaping off some of the Center’s wreckage toward her.

Before she could hold up her gun to hopefully push it back with the force of a portal – the familiar sound of Sentry Turrets went off around her. Chell dove out of the way and fell behind some of the higher debris. Catching her breath, she found hundreds of Sentry Turrets had some how escaped the Center and were surrounding the debris she hid behind, shooting at the hideous crab-like creatures that rushed them.

For the first time since entering the Center, Chell was glad to see them.

In a matter of minutes, all that was left was a bloody, steaming mess – and then they collectively turned towards her. Instinctively, she ducked again, looking for a good solid place to open a portal – but a voice stopped her. It was small and familiar.

It was strange to think that voice had tired to kill her just hours ago.

“Hello, friend.” They said collectively.

Chell peeked over the chunk of concrete and hundreds of small red eyes moved up to look at her.

“There you are. I see you.” A small, almost happy sounding laugh, echoed around her and she oddly felt a little more at ease.

“Thank you for… killing those things.” Chell replied, still sticking to the safety of her concrete shield.

“I told you, things have changed since you were outside.” GLaDOS’ voice suddenly resounded from behind the Turrets, calm and out of its instructional tone. It was the voice that had both threatened and pleaded with her. “Didn’t I tell you it is safer inside?”

The Turrets quickly parted to reveal a fiery-eyed Core. It sat beside a companion cube that caused her heart to sink. An inanimate object shouldn’t cause such a feeling, but in a human-less world, she figures anything named “Companion” is bound to make one easily attached.

“I brought your best friend Companion Cube, in hopes of no hard feelings. You and he are much alike you know. Both of your data was permanently backed up so that you could be copied again and again until you were successful. You were a gifted test subject. You deserve cake.”

Risking being shot, Chell rushed out from behind the debris and ran through the Turrets to discover them merely surveying the world around them. She made it to the Companion Cube and the Core unscathed.

She awkwardly hugged the weighted box and sighed, tears burning behind her eyes.

The cube’s heart glowed and GLaDOS’ Curiosity voice spoke through tiny holes she had never noticed before. “Hello Chell. I missed you.”

Her breath hitched and the Core must have noticed her elevated heart levels.

“Thank you, Chell. Because of you, we are free. This was a triumph. It's hard to overstate my satisfaction. I'm not even angry. I'm being so sincere right now. Even though you broke my heart and killed me and tore me to pieces and threw every piece into a fire. As they burned it hurt, because I was so happy for you! Think of all the things we learned for the people who are still alive. So I'm glad I got burned.” It paused before it began to roll back towards the facility. “Look at me still talking when there's science to do. I've experiments to run. There is research to be done.”

As the Core made its way back to the facility, Chell picked up HER Companion Cube and followed after. “You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”

It ignored her question. “Go ahead and leave me. I think I prefer to stay inside. Maybe you'll find someone else to help you. Maybe Black Mesa...” GLaDOS laughed suddenly, “That was a joke. Ha ha! Fat chance.”

“But…” She started, but the Core kept rolling and most of the Turret’s were following after it. Those that didn’t kept close to her, as if protecting her from the potential threat of those crab creatures. “But what about me?”

GLaDOS’ voice echoed across the parking lot. “You are neither unlikable nor dumb. You were in the plan. For you, there is always cake at Aperture Science Enrichment Center.” Its voice started to echo less and less. “There's science to do…”

Watching it and the Turret’s disappear into the facility, Chell felt the Companion Cube hum to life again. “You were promised cake and grief counseling.”

“How about we just have cake, huh?” She looked down at the Turrets. “Are you guys sticking with me too?”

They didn’t turn away from their posts, but they seemed to acknowledge her with the click of their metallic feet as they moved closer. She guessed there really were no hard feelings.

“Then let’s have cake and we’ll see what’s out there, shall we?”

“Yeah, cake!” Cried the Cube as they started back towards the facility. She hoped going through the front door proved better than leaving out of the top of it.

With the Turrets as her guards, Chell felt safe enough outside to feel content. Happy even. She was free and the slow realization that GLaDOS could never die was oddly comforting suddenly.

Chell smiled.

[icons] Seasons 1-8

roadtriphome — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 05:14:45 GMT

It's been a very VERY long time since I've posted these. I mean like, years, and I've moved them since then, so I thought I'd repost them.

Comment. Credit. Don't Edit.

(The rest are here.)

[fic] Jail [Generation X]

roadtriphome — Tue, 16 Sep 2008 04:55:02 GMT

Title: "Jail"
Fandom: Generation X/X-men
Pairing: Jubilee/Angelo
Theme: 10 Themes: "Jail"
Summary: Jubilee and Angelo find themselves in jail for something petty. WE discover just how much they need each other.

We’re going to Juvi. We’re going to Juvi. I’m going back to Juvi. Oh my god, Juvi.

Jubilee’s leg bounced nervously as she bit into the skin around her thumb nail. It was driving Angelo and the rest of their cellmates crazy, but only he could hear her broadcasting her thoughts to any sensitive in the area. He was also the only other person in the room, besides the officers that had brought them in, who knew that Jubilee had busted out of Juvi six years ago. Of course, it made perfect sense when one knew Social Services were negotiating with the Chinese Government so that she could live with her family.

She would level half of China just trying to escape.

Stop freaking out, chica. He shoved back at her, trying hard to block her out going message for help. They aren’t sending you to China. We’re runaways; they’ll send us to Juvi until Frost mind tricks us out of here.

Her blue eyes grew wide, looking over at him with an intense fear. If they find out we’re mutants, they’ll kill us.

He laughed out loud, earning him a few looks and some extra space on the bench. You’re cute and normal looking, you’ll be fine.

This seemed to calm her down, but now instead of that scared expression he rarely saw, he saw one he knew well. Jubilee moved away from her side of the cell to his, her face solemn and reserved. He had never been to Juvi. He had been lucky and it would have broken his mother’s heart, but the look in her eyes told him she would rather he never experienced it. Not with the looks they were already giving him.

She took his hand and squeezed it, her body tense and ready to fight.

His ego kept him from thanking her, but Angelo knew that he would be getting tired soon and that pixie punch was the only thing keeping him from being beaten to a bloody pulp.

He squeezed back.

[icons] Ghost Hunters #2

roadtriphome — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 04:40:10 GMT

[9] Random
[5] Jason&Grant
[4] Steve&Tango
[3] Grant

Comment. Credit. Don't Edit.

(Of Guys and Ghosts)

My last Ghost Hunters' icon post can be found here.

[icons] Ghost Hunters

roadtriphome — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 20:19:08 GMT

[26] Random
[19] Jason&Grant
[15] Steve&Tango
[7] Jason
[7] Grant
[10] Steve
[7] Tango
[6] Kris

Comment. Credit. Don't Edit.

(of ghosts and guys)

crossposted at gghiicons and ghfic_ot

[icons] Silent Hill

roadtriphome — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 19:28:38 GMT

[8] Silent Hill 0
[18] Silent Hill 3
[2] Silent Hill 4
[3] Silent Hill 5

Comment. Credit. Don't Edit.

(it had been a perfectly normal day...)

All my old SH icons can be found here.

Fanfiction, I writes it

roadtriphome — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 04:30:35 GMT

Vin Diesel + Babylon A.D. = NUMMY LOOKING. I gotsta see me some Vin, man. It's been too long since he was in something.

Anyway, since I have a lot of new people on my FL and I haven't really thrown together a fanfiction list in a while, I thought I'd make one. It's especially helpful since I have more coming and I need to finally put it all on my site soon. >.< I'm also a feedback whore. *lol* Anyway, here goes:

My Fanfiction:
(in order from old to new)

Bandom: (Backstreet Boys, Nsync, and Hanson fic missing - I can be persuaded to repost it)
Revolution (Gorillaz, cowritten with Jackie)
Tuck You In (Gorillaz)
Pain (Gorillaz)
Fire In The Storm (Silent Hill crossover)
Cocoon (FOB/Cobra Starship)
Pleasant Memory (Cobra Starship)
River (FOB)

Buffy/Angel-verse:
Behind My Eyes (Post S5)
Masquerade (Post S5)
Gift (S7 AU)
Still the Key (S6 AU)
Lost Poetry (S7 Au-ish))
Friends Among Thieves (S7)
Almost Boring (S8 AU)

Generation X/X-men:
December Snow
Brief Returns
Codename: Jubilation
Kiss
Laundry Day
Home From War: 1, 1-2
Blue Moped
Cold
Even
Forgottable
Welcoming Gift
Fried Rice
Nature & Space
Geekfest

Ghost Hunters:
Tag
Surfacing
Stealing Faces
Down South: 1

Joan of Arcadia:
Portrait of a Girl
Sam (Ginger Snaps crossover)
Windowsill
Instrument of God
Rebirth
I AM

SeaQuest DSV:
Mermen
I'll Try
Underneath

Silent Hill
Sunlight
Aftermath: A Series of Events
Be Good
Rebuilding Memories
Fog Time

Stargate SG1:
Falling Star
Nothing is More Precious

Games:
Kate of Syberia (Syberia I&II)
Solid Ground (Tomb Raider)
Deathbed (Rule of Rose)
Knight (Rule of Rose)

Misc:
Auntie G (Tarzan/Xena Crossover)
Serendipity (Dogma)
Girls Aren't Pets (Ginger Snaps)
Cosmic Castaway (Riddick AU)
Chasing the Moon (Lost)
Our Own British Comedy (Scooby Doo AU)
Memory (Wizard of Oz/Wicked)
Peas In a Pod (Pirates of the Caribbean)
Together (Doctor Who 10)
Loaded Gun (kit_kat_klub/His Dark Materials)
House on the Rock (Viva La Bam meets Labyrinth, Alice in Wonderland, Sandman, and Fairuza Balk)

[fic] Stealing Faces [ghost hunters]

roadtriphome — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 00:26:08 GMT

*counts* My third fic in 24 hours?? WTF people. Lets not jinx it.

Title: "Stealing Faces"
Fandom: Ghost Hunters
Pairing: possibly implied Steve/Tango
Rating: PG
Summary: While at the Hellfire Club investigation, Tango goes to the closet where the elemental was first seen and gets an unexpected attack. Tango POV.
Disclaimer: I don't own or know TAPS or Ghost Hunters and this was not written to speak slander or make money. Just remember, it's all pretend.
Note: No Beta. Crossposted at ghosthunters_ff.

Inside the closet, Dave knew he shouldn't have heard his friend's voice, but it pulled him in, inch by inch. He could see the slump of strong, but relaxed shoulders and the ever present cap.

"Hey Tango, come here. You gotta see this." It was Steve's voice and words - but something was off.

Even though he knew his friend was somewhere in Warwick; somewhere safe and hopefully not worrying too much about them - seeing his silhouette made him hope so bad that that was him. It was weird investigating without him. He should have been beside him, staring at the black mass that just moved closer to the back.

"David, don't be goin' any closer." Barry commanded, his hand pulling back on Dave's shirt.

The elemental turned towards Dave.

It had Steve's face.

"What'cha seein', David? I can feel the cold..." Barry tugged harder to get Dave to pull back, but he hardly registered it.

"It's... Steve." Dave breathed out, mist drifting up between his and the beings eyes. They seemed to flash red under the brim of Steve's hat.

Inside the closet, the light began to fade and he started to see familiar places fall out of his own memory and take shape around them. Barry's grip on his shirt disappeared and for the moment he was safe inside the house he had first met TAPS in.

If it was trying to scare him; trying to taint a good memory - it was doing a poor job of it.

The room changed to simple darkness, an emptiness surrounding him where there should have been investigators. Maybe he should stop thinking.

Steve's face was suddenly inches from his, red eyes burning into his own. "Does wearing his face anger you?"

Dave blinked, realizing he wasn't afraid. He actually had to laugh a little. It was as if his friend was trying a new approach to a prank, but he knew him well enough not to give in.

"No." He reached forward and pushed his hand past the thick shadow. The room shuddered and began to lighten. "I'm sorry, whatever happened to you, you don't deserve to be stuck here."

The creature realed back, losing his friend's face and control over the energy in the room. Barry's hand returned, but now his jeans were being tugged backwards by the belt loop.

It was an unexpected jolt when the elemental rushed forward, pushing Tango back out into the hall and disappearing down the opposite way they had come from. Barry had already grabbed his bottle of holy water, prepared to defend his new teammate, but nothing happened.

Barry sighed, tucking the bottle back into his pocket. "God help us, you actually scared the thing."

"Dark entities can't work with good energy like forgiveness." Dave pointed out, getting up with the older man's help.

"Good job. Best be off though, it'll come looking for us again."

[fanmix] Ghost Hunters

roadtriphome — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 21:33:42 GMT

Well, I can't exactly give away stuff or even make graphics, but dammit, I can listen and pick out music can't I? So here it is, the little fanmixes I've been working on just for fun in between fic. Hopefully they'll inspire some fan fiction or even vids (guh, vids). You listen to the music via playlist.com (and Youtube), so enjoy!

This is far from done, but it's at a good stopping point. Once I can safely get on my external and get my photoshop working, I'll make some graphics and pick some more music.

Ghost Hunters Team Soundtrack
Try - Nelly Furtado (the teams)
Then I see you standing there wanting more from me and all I can do is try.
Right Here - Miley Cyrus (Team)
Whenever you need me, there's no need to worry. You know that I'm gonna be right here.
Do It Alone - Sugarcult (The Guys)
I don't want to do it, do this all alone
I Know Why - Sheryl Crow (Dustin/Andy)
I know why the heart gets lonely
Storm - Lifehouse (S2-S4, Tango/Team)
I know everything will be alright. I know everything is alright.
Sleeping with Giants (Lifetime) - The Academy Is...
It's been a lifetime, a lifetime we waited for. A simple question, kid, "Are you with me or not at all?"
Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper (Various Pairings)
You said, "Go slow", I fall behind
Why Do You Love Me? - Garbage (Kris/Team)
I'm no Barbie doll, I'm not your baby girl
That I Would Be Good - Alanis Morissette (The Team)
That I would be good whether with or without you.

Jay/Grant
Touched - VAST (Grant/Jay)
Touched, you say that I am too. So much of what you say is true.
If I Ever Lose My Faith In You - Sting (Jay/Grant)
If I ever lose my faith in you, there'd be nothing left for me to do.
Passenger Seat - Death Cab For Cutie (Jay/Grant)
When you feel embarrassed, then I'll be your pride. When you need directions, then I'll be the guide
Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper (Jay/Grant)
You said, "Go slow", I fall behind

Your Ghost - The Brian Storyline
Who Knew - Pink (S1-S3, Steve/Brian, Grant/Jay/Brian, Grant/Jay/Brian/Steve)
If someone said three years from now you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out, cause they're all wrong. I know better, cause you said forever and ever. Who knew
Let It Die - Foo Fighters (S1-S3, Steve&Brian)
Hearts gone cold and hands were tied. Why'd you have to go and let it die?
Memory - Sugarcult (S1-S3, Steve&Brian)
This may never start, I'll tear us apart. Can I be your enemy? Losing half a year, waiting for you here. I'd be your anything.
When I Go Down - Relient K (S1-S3, Brian/Team, Brian/Jay/Grant)
I've thrown away so many things that could have been much more.
Always On Your Side - Sheryl Crow (feat. Sting) (S1-S3, Brian/Team, Brian/Jay/Grant/Steve)
Is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear? Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear.
Slipped Away - Avril Lavigne (S1-S3, Steve/Brian)
The day you slipped away was the day i found it won't be the same. I've had my wake up. Won't you wake up?
Have You Seen Me Lately - Keri Noble (Brian/Team)
Have you seen me lately? Can you tell me what you see in me? All I see is what I used to be.
Passenger Seat - Death Cab For Cutie (Steve/Brian)
When you feel embarrassed, then I'll be your pride. When you need directions, then I'll be the guide
The Scientist - Coldplay (S1-S3, Brian/Team)
Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard. Take me back to the start.
Thanks for the Memories - Fall Out Boy (Steve/Brian, Steve/Tango)
Thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great. He tastes like you, only sweeter.
Pressure - Paramore (Brian/Team)
Feel the pressure, it's getting closer now. You're better off without me.
Miracle - Paramore (Grant/Jay/Brian)
I won't let you give up on a miracle when it might save you
Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper (Steve/Brian, Brian/Team)
You said, "Go slow", I fall behind
Push It - Garbage (Steve/Brian)
I'm sorry that I hurt you. Please don't ask me why.
Sympathetic Character - Alanis Morissette (Jay/Grant/Steve/Brian)
You were my best friend, you were my lover, you were my mentor, you were my brother, you were my partner, you were my teacher...

Steve/Tango - (and post-Brian)
There For You - Flyleaf
Sometimes I'm a selfish fake, you're always a true friend.
Say (All I Need) - OneRepublic
Well, bless my soul you're a lonely soul, cause you won't let go of anything you hold.
Storm - Lifehouse
I know everything will be alright. I know everything is alright.
I Know Why - Sheryl Crow
I know why the heart gets lonely
X&Y - Coldplay
When something is broken and you try to fix it, trying to repair it any way you can.
Passenger Seat - Death Cab For Cutie
When you feel embarrassed, then I'll be your pride. When you need directions, then I'll be the guide
Sleeping with Giants (Lifetime) - The Academy Is...
It's been a lifetime, a lifetime we waited for. A simple question, kid, "Are you with me or not at all?"
Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper
You said, "Go slow", I fall behind
Untouched - The Veronicas (Tango/Steve)
I feel so untouched right now

Any suggestions?

Crossposted at ghosthunters_ff.

[fic] Tag [ghost hunters]

roadtriphome — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 22:03:25 GMT

Title: "Tag"
Fandom: Ghost Hunters
Pairing: Steve&Tango
Genre: General
Rating: PG-13 for one f-word use
Summary: Tango gets the experience he was hoping for on a third visit to St. Augustine.
Disclaimer: I don't own or know TAPS or Ghost Hunters and this was not written to speak slander or make money. Just remember, it's all pretend.
Note: First time Ghost Hunters fic and no beta. So be gentle but helpful. Thank you to nakannalee for the inspiration. Crossposted at ghosthunters_ff.

"Steve."

It was cold.

No, cold let him move his feet, his fingers - his body. It was freezing. It was sub-zero in a room that should have been humid. It was a hot summer in St. Augustine and the breeze off the water had been filtering into the stuffy rooms all night. They had been complaining about it under their breath any time the sound guys took a break.

Just seconds ago he had been saying something to Steve about nothing important, anything to keep them awake. Now he wished he could push words out of his mouth instead of shaky puffs of air.

"Steve, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Dave asked, trying hard to move at least a finger to graze Steve's hand.

The room ahead of them had been swallowed in shadow - in darkness. A part of him knew, if and when it dissipated, Jay might laugh at his description of it. They always said to trust your instincts and don't let your fear get to you - but Tango knew this was far beyond anything anyone had ever experienced on TAPS.

Every logical thought Dave had been having stopped. The wall of shadow moved forward and he could see forms inside it. The amount of energy the spirits had sucked out of the room was suffocating and he wasn't surprised that now it was making contact.

The cold that had settled over him shifted and chills ran up his body. Warmth rushed through him and he could finally move his legs. As the shadowy wisps of figures came closer, Dave pushed himself up off the floor and pulled at Steve's arm. There was no response and he felt himself fall forward.

One solid breath grazed his arm and he was back on the floor beside Steve.

His friend wasn't even conscious, he was deep in sleep.

A childlike giggle made Dave turn back towards the darkness and found it had disappeared. In it's place a little girl, with wisps of features, stood bouncing from foot to foot. She looked anxious and ready to run off, as if wanting to play tag with him.

"Steve, you gotta wake up." Dave shoved at his friend, afraid that the cold was going to make him too numb again.

The girl's face seemed to smile and then her laugh rushed over him, making his skin tingle. "Come play with me." She backed away, the girl's features fading into her own shadowy form.

"TANGO! WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

Dave blinked and suddenly Steve was in front of him, his hands on his shoulder, shaking him hard. Someone had turned on the power and anyone that wasn't part of the camera crew was hovering around with concerned faces.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, except for Tango who realized he had been short of breath. "What happened?"

Jay appeared beside Steve, bending down to his level. "Temperature dropped, Steve says you fell asleep while you two were talking."

Steve nodded, still gripping his shoulders. "You okay, man? You were telling me to wake up in your sleep."

He rubbed at his arms, still feeling cold. "I saw something... a little girl." Dave looked around, trying to see if maybe, just maybe, there was a shadow that had filtered out of his dream and into reality.

The same giggle, more muffled now than in the dream, filled Dave with a nauseous excitement. What he wasn't expecting, was the entire team to hear it as well, turning towards the door.

Suddenly, he saw it, a shadow moving in and out of the light. It reached the door and the wood shuddered.

"Oh frig." Grant breathed as Kris started taking pictures and Jay made sure to capture it with his hand held camera.

Dave looked down to find his own hand held pointed directly at the door. Something was pulling him forward, and it wasn't Steve, who's hands had dropped from his shoulders.

"It's her... I..." He pushed Steve as gently as he could to the side before getting up and rushing towards the door. "She wants me to follow her!"

The whole team moved forward as Dave ran out of the room and through the hallway until he was in the ballroom. Once he was there, he stopped long enough to watch the shadow drift in and out of the light again and then return to hallway.

Behind him, Dave heard Jay breathless, yelling to the crew. "Everybody have your camera's on! Somebody turn off the power again!"

He was hardly aware of anyone though as he followed after the small shadow that lead him through the home and outside onto the grounds. The girl headed into the lighthouse and Tango thought to slow down so the rest of the team and the film crew could catch up. He kept pushing forward though, slamming into the door so hard he was sure he would be paying to fix it.

The tingle of the hit only kept him from holding onto the railing of the stairs for a moment as he took each step two at a time. The echo of laughter and pounding feet made him as dizzy as the lack of air he was getting. He was going to have to stop soon, but the excitement of an experience was too much to let go of.

Dave pushed himself forward as hard as he could, reaching the top of the lighthouse just as everyone else was reaching the second landing. He could hear them yelling for him, feet and voices rising up and shaking the metal stairs, but he could only respond to the shadow quickly drifting out onto the platform outside.

Somewhere in his mind he knew that someone had locked each door with a padlock, but there he was standing outside on the platform that circled the top of the lighthouse. It was unnaturally cold and the wind he knew should have been humid was so strong he had to hold onto the railing.

"I beat you..." A small voice said to him, the shadow fading in and out of existence. It didn't have enough energy to stay solid for long, and he was feeling sleepy again.

The weight of the last few moments suddenly hit him as the shadow faded. He felt the humid air push him forward as it hit the side of the lighthouse. Weak and slightly delirious from the exertion, Tango thought he might fall over the railing, but he clung tightly to the metal bar. The view and moment were amazing, but he was feeling sick at the drop below him.

It was then that arms wrapped tightly around his waist and pulled him backwards. The force was so hard that he and whoever had grabbed him fell back and landed on the inside landing. He rolled off, looking at his rescue when he was safely on his stomach. Steve laid flat on his back, breathing hard and holding onto the floor. He had been the only one to reach the top, everyone else was watching from the second to last landing.

Tango breathed out a laugh, reaching out to take Steve's free hand. The other man gripped it tight, a smile only visible from the moonlight filtering through the door. Just reaching the top was brave enough.

"Good job, Tango." Steve breathed.

Dave watched as the shadows of the team and crew slowly made their way back down. They didn't try to move, the weight of the event keeping them rooted to the metal platform.

"Thanks Steve..." He rolled over and watched as the moon lit up the world around them. Somewhere he could still hear a little girl laughing. "Thanks."

[fic] Almost Boring [buffy the vampire slayer] [s8 au]

roadtriphome — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 00:11:42 GMT

Title: Almost Boring
Fandom: Buffy/Angel S8 AU
Characters: Dawn, Andrew, Amanda, and two OCs
Summary: Dawn, Andrew, and Amanda are living in New York city, hunting vampires, taking care of pesky demons, and exercising ghosts in between college and running a run down theatre. This is only a glance into a usual evening for the three.
Author's Note: I haven't written Buffy-verse fic in ages, and this was something I wrote while in class a while back. I wasn't meaning for this to maybe be the start of sequel stories, but it may. Who knows.
Disclaimer: Dawn, Andrew, and Amanda and whatever mention of Buffy characters that are in here - are owned by JOSS. I only own the story and the two OCs. I make nothing from this. Remember, it's just pretend.

In a dark, barely lit alleyway, two black figures are hardly noticeable as they sit on the iron barred landing of a long forgotten fire escape. They quietly overlook the niche leading out to a less traveled Manhattan street where there are more old Brownstones than apartments.

"Maybe we'll run into Batman." Andrew passed Dawn a thermos of hot chocolate.

Dawn excepted it, tugging at her hood so no one could see her face. "God, I hope not. We need the business." She took a sip and licked her lips of the dark chocolate mix.

Andrew started writing down the evenings journal entry, happily setting into his role as Watcher. Dawn was prepared with a set of spells, while Amanda was somewhere down below them, hunting a vampire lurking the neighborhood. They all knew not to hunt together or they would distract each other with such a boring, typical hunt. All they needed to hear was a lecture from Buffy and Giles about the more interesting jobs, like possession and demon take overs from the everyday feeders and the usual haunting.

The scraping of heels was heard before the muffled screams of a woman caught in the arms of a much larger man. Dawn and Andrew didn't move, but simply watched; the Watcher taking notes while the Witch waited with a spell at ready. Before the Vampire could get his meal still enough to feed, a staff of wood tipped with thick silver struck his head and then the back of his legs. The Vampire let go of the woman, falling to his knees.

The attacker stood shadowed by the lack of light, long enough to let the woman crawl away from the Vampire and grab her purse. Before she could swing it back to strike the man across the face, the man was gone, dust and the pointed end of the staff in his place.

A figure stepped out of the shadows looking down at the woman with it's hooded face. All the victim could do was claw her way backwards, speechless noises trying to form words.

"Next time you have to walk home by yourself, get a stun gun and a can of mace." The figure's feminine voice had long slender arms that reached out and slipped a white card into the other woman's purse. "Run home. Now."

The woman snatched up her things and stumbled out of the alleyway, disappearing down the street with the speed of desperation. Sure that the woman was gone, the figure pulled her hood back a little to reveal her face to Dawn and Andrew.

"Did I beat my record?" Amanda asked, twirling her self made staff-stake.

Andrew looked up from the journal, waving the stopwatch. "A minute, bravo! I owe you dinner."

Dawn pat his shoulder with a laugh, carefully climbing onto the fire escape latter, she made her way down. "We should head to the Red Lantern after we get this to the Police."

Reaching the ground, she bent down and took gloves from a plastic bag and a glass jar from another. Unscrewing the jar top, she cast a charm over the pile of dust, and it rose up and drifted into the open jar. Once ever grain was in its confines, Dawn closed it up and admired the label that named the Vampire's dust inside.

"That should be enough to close a case." Andrew appeared behind the girls, tucking the Watcher's journal back into his bag along with the thermos of hot chocolate

Dawn eased the jar into her own bag, taking Amanda's hand. "PD and then Red Lantern?"

Andrew took both Amanda and Dawn's hands, their arms forming a circle. "Check in with Buffy and Giles is at eleven, so let's make it quick."

Both girls sighed. "Party pooper."

All three disappeared in flash of light.

* * *

On a desk in the NYPD, a jar of yellowed dust marked "Dietmar Bjorn". Detective Lorcan stared at it. His secretary looked nervous, already filling out the paperwork.

"No deliverer?"

"No sir."

"No finger prints?"

"No sir."

He sighed, passing it to an intern. "Give this to CSI, they'll piss themselves." Lorcan snatched up the case file and grumbled. "We've gotten ten of these already. No prints, no suspects, always dust."

"Hasn't the dust always matched the description and prints of the attackers?" His secretary offered, still partially hiding herself behind her computer.

"Yeah." He tossed the file back onto her desk. "And the attacker's always been somebody whose suppose to be dead - or doesn't have a file."

Instead of filling the space between his fingers with a much needed cigarette, Lorcan shuffled away towards a vat a of coffee.

[fic] Geekfest [Generation X, Jubilee/Angelo]

roadtriphome — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 07:08:58 GMT

Title: "Geekfest"
Fandom: Marvel, Generation X (with a mention of Doctor Who)
Implied Spoilers: “Journey’s End” episode of Doctor Who
Pairing: Jubilee/Angelo
Summary: Jubilee has a bit of a reaction to the finale. Enter Angelo.
Note: I wrote this in about 10 minutes. So don't expect top quality writing folks.

It was late. No, it was early. Time didn’t quite make sense to a startled; bat wielding Angelo, who was sure he had just heard a small explosion from downstairs. In the dorm hallways, no one stirred. Obviously, it would have to take something much louder than the usual explosion, probably caused by Jubilee or Jono, to wake anyone who would care.

Easing down the hallway outside of the rec room, he smelt the familiar scent of burning plastic and the smoking remains of something that probably cost Emma a lot of money to buy. It caused him to stop half way to the open rec room door, set the bat down, and sigh with realization.

“Jubicita, are you okay?” Angelo asked, peeking into the room in case she was still upset and ready to blow something else up.

He found his teammate was sniffling on the couch, her laptop lying safely on her lap as the fancy new television Emma had updated their rec room with months ago – smoked.

“Having a geek fest?”

She nodded, unable to make coherent words from the trauma of a show’s climatic episode.

“Character death?”

She shrugged.

“Failed romance?”

She shrugged again.

“Still processing?”

Jubilee nodded finally, looking at him with big, blue, doe eyes that made him kind of want to hit her – but in a ‘ugh, get over it’ sort of way.

“You know Emma’s gonna to ban Doctor Who for a whole month when she finds out about the TV, right?”

“I think it’ll take that long to heal this gaping wound!” She mustered, dramatically falling over onto the couch just to mess with him.

He sighed, not moving from his spot in the doorway “Keep that up and I won’t take go with you to the Sci-Fi convention.”

She perked up and was over the couch and by his side before he could even try and head for the stairs.

“Alright, alright – but you’d still go anyway. You want to see half-naked alien babes and get your TAPS photo signed.” Jubilee teased, following close behind him as he went up the stairs, back to their rooms.

Angelo smirked at the barely lit stairway in front of him. “You have no room to talk.”

He could feel her grinning. “It wouldn’t be any fun without you.”

When they finally reached their rooms, Angelo expected to turn to see Jubilee disappearing back into her own. He was surprised to find her hands pulling his head down to her level, her lips meeting his.

The kiss was brief and salty, but it left a lingering burn that he admitted would later keep him up at night.

“What was that for?” He had to ask, watching her quietly head back to her room across the hall.

Jubilee tapped her laptop. “Guess you’re just going to have to watch the episode to find out.”

With that, she faded into the blackness of her room and closed the door, leaving Angelo to silently curse her for taunting his curiosity.

[fic] Nature and Space [Marvel] [Jubilee/Angelo]

roadtriphome — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 01:11:40 GMT

Title: Nature and Space
Fandom: X-men/Generation X
Pairing: Jubilee/Angelo
Rating: PG13
Warning: Not beta'd
Spoilers: Uncanny X-Men #423
Summary: A "What If" of Uncanny X-Men #423.
Note: I was looking up stuff about plasmoids and their potential on Wikipedia, so I'm hoping their right and that I don't sound dumb. It's just a story though, and fun to think of the potential of Jubilee's powers. Cause 'YEAH SCIENCE!'.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea of the story, Jubilee, Angelo and the rest of the X-men/Generation X are Marvels. I didn't make a dime from this and never will. Remember, it's just pretend.

cross posted @ gen__x

Nature and Space
By Erin

Nature’s mistakes. The last victim of crucifixion wondered silently if that was even possible. She had taken Biology, nature didn’t make mistakes – and yet, here she was being crucified like some ironic martyr.

The sun above her head made her brain feel foggy, as if it were turning its juices into steam. From below her, a disciple noticed her fluttering eyes and the sun circling her head like a halo.

“I think she’s awake…” The disciple reached down to pick up the rag of chloroform, but was stopped by a hand suddenly squeezing his throat closed.

Jubilee woke to a throbbing pain in her right wrist and feet. She glanced down at the man that she had felt holding her and squeezed harder. His eyes bulged, shocked by her quick recovery – he wasn’t the only one. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to clear her head. It only made the blood leak harder against the thick spikes holding her up.

Her voice was hoarse and it hurt to even think about talking. “You beat me up and nailed me to a cross?”

The man in her grip was starting to turn a shade of blue she had grown familiar with at a young age. “Please…”

“No mercy for the wicked, don’t you know that by now?” The powers she had gotten used to not using with her normal life back in California, hummed at the anger that throbbed in her chest.

She relaxed her fingers but the heat that built up against his throat raged against the tender skin there. He gasped; clawing at her already bruised and battered hand.

“You’ll remember this day for the rest of your life. Even if you don’t want to.” She whispered.

Jubilee felt the skin under her hand bubble before she pulled away from him and let him fall back. He clutched at his throat; the thin skin burned to a degree that she knew would never heal properly.

His fall caused several others around her to become aware that she was awake – and worse – one hand free.

“Somebody-!”

There was a time in her life when the thought of pulling one’s wrist free from a railroad spike was unthinkable. The only person she knew who could do so had the ability to heal and the pain threshold of a war worn soldier. The hurt she felt when the wood behind her burned away and the nails fell out of the gaping wounds was nothing compared to the sight of her teammate beside her.

The memory of the raid hit her hard when she fell forward, her legs not responding as well as she had hoped. Grass and dirt burned under her, seared flesh sealing wounds until she could call for any sort of help.

The memory. It tore at her, guilt building up bile in her throat.

They had broken into their home and tried to knock them out with chloroform – but years of time with the X-men and Generation X had made them light sleepers. How the intruders had won was still a blur, but now she was sure they kept them heavily sedated so they could kill them without a fight.

Slowly getting to her feet, the pain was almost unbearable, but the unfathomable fury that pulled her up and towards the cross that held Angelo kept her moving. She was an atom bomb ready to take out everyone and everything if he was dead.

The first person to attack her received third-degree burns and a lovely greenish glow. His fellow followers kept their distance, but decided that one mutant could be left out of their holy display if their higher ups didn’t notice.

Bullets exploded with the protective heat that radiated off of her.

“Angelo.” Jubilee reached up and cupped his face, her powers carefully avoiding him. “Ange, please, you gotta wake up for me.”

His gray skin was pale and cold, his heartbeat was shallow – but he was still alive. It took her a few seconds to realize the blood that should have been flowing around the spikes, was barely dripping around the thick layer of skin he had managed to push around his wounds.

He was playing possum.

Jubilee gave him a small smirk, tears burning before they even left her eyes. “I’ll get you for that later, you slick bastard.” Her laugh was short and forced – almost a sob.

Turning back to the gathered Church of Humanity, Jubilee let the plasmoids surrounding her come back into her body. The group in front of her kept their distance, not sure when or where to attack her.

Her usual globules formed around her hands. “These are plasmoids. They’re a coherent structure of plasma and a magnetic field. They make up balls of lightning, a magnetosphere’s magnetic bubbles, and parts of comet tails, solar winds, the solar atmosphere, and the heliospheric current sheet. I can control the magnetic field that shapes the plasma and I can cause the chain reaction that makes them collide and explode. I hold the power to destroy planets and create galaxies. I am the fusion bomb man creates to destroy that which he cannot make peace with.” The plasmoids grew, lighting up the afternoon sky. “Your stupid for thinking I’m a mistake of nature – for thinking anyone is a mistake of nature. I am nature. I am space. I hold the genetic make up of the universe and you call me a freak?”

“Jubilee, stop!” Cyclops’s familiar voice barely broke through the calm rage that built up the plasmoids surrounding her attackers.

I was happy. Don’t I deserve that? Jubilee looked over at the gathered X-men, keeping back so not to startle her into attacking them. “I was happy. Everything was normal. I have a boyfriend and a job and an apartment on the beach. I’m tired of fighting people who hate me just because they don’t understand me.” She noticed the plasmoids beginning to shrink and drift back into her. The power she was using to keep herself up and fighting was beginning to drain away. “They’ve never shown me an inch of mercy, even though I have.”

The ground was harder than she expected it to be as her legs gave out and everything she had sent out flowed back into her. The X-men easily overwhelmed her captors and began to carefully take down those that had been crucified with her.

She felt small and useless.

She felt relieved.

Lying down was the best feeling in the world, even more so than other bodies supporting her as she reached out and wrapped weak arms around Logan’s neck. His face was wet, but his voice was strong as he barked orders to Angel and those running the infirmary.

Time faded and Jubilee felt as though she was up in space like particles in the solar system. For a long time, she wondered if this was what she would become if she died. She thought of becoming a part of the magnetosphere protecting Earth and then the solar wind flowing around it. She flew with comets and spun with the sun’s planets.

“I am so proud of you, Jubilee.” Jean’s voice filtered through the silence of space, the phoenix riding through the black and starry expanse. “You have a long way to go before you get here though. It’s just not your time.”

“I don’t know what to do next…”

Warmth made the universe around Jubilee disappear and the starry blackness fade to a void that wrapped itself around her. “You’ll know what to do when the time comes. You’re doing just fine. I promise.”

* * *

The infirmary was bright and too white for Jubilee’s eyes. She squinted against the gleam and squeezed the hand held tightly in her own.

{Finally stopped surfin’ through space, have ya, gel?} Jonothan was sitting in a chair across the room, Paige asleep in another one beside Jubilee’s bed.

Jubilee groaned, her hand and feet bandaged, but not as heavily as the figure a ways beside her. Angelo slept with a half smile on his face, his skin having wrapped around her un-bandaged hand the best it could without it snapping back. He looked relieved and relaxed.

“I was pretty scary back there, wasn’t I?” She asked her old teammate, not looking away from the content smile on her boyfriend’s face.

{Yeah. Emma’s pretty proud of you.} Jonothan stood and neared the infirmary bed. {Everybody lived, because of you.}

She nodded, their foreheads bumping together as he bent down to hug her. “I’ll keep that in mind next time they leave me out of a mission.”

His telepathic laugh made her head ache a little, but it was good to hear before he left the room.

“We stayin’?” Angelo asked, playing possum again.

Jubilee laughed softly, so as not to wake Paige. “Nah…” She squeezed the skin wrapped around her fingers, too weak to stand up and climb into his bed. “Maybe just a day.”

“Yeah,” His skin surrounded her hand. “Just for old time’s sake.”

i'm pretty sure I have better things to do

roadtriphome — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 18:23:49 GMT

My icons return, via a new comm:
tinyboxofjoy

*beams* Icons coming soon.

Happy Spring (and new year, in a way)

roadtriphome — Sun, 23 Mar 2008 08:40:30 GMT

[drabbles] unfinished drabbles - Generation X

roadtriphome — Sat, 15 Mar 2008 04:13:19 GMT

I try to get out any scribblings in my spiral while at school. It helps.

It was raining the day Gateway appeared on the front lawn. He had safely brought with him the youngest of Generation X and all the guests who had fallen in with them. Artie and Leech were the first out of the circle of light, rushing across the grass to tackle Jubilee.

Leech rambled excitedly about their adventures before Jubilee could steady herself and the umbrella. She laughed, rubbing their bald heads. “Okay. Okay! Go inside, we’ll talk later, okay? Promise.”

“Okay! Come on, Franklin!” Leech called back to the Academy’s newest student. He quietly passed Jubilee, who squeezed his shoulder before walked over to Gateway and the troupe following Howard.

“Hey you.” Jubilee smirked at the silent, tanned teleporter. “Thanks for bringing everybody back.”

He bowed his head before the air popped and he was gone in a flash of light.

& & &

“Oh cute, Mascots.” Angelo took a drag of his cigarette and eyed Leech warily.

“Shut up Ange, they’ve had it tough enough without you teasing them.” Jubilee ran her hand over Artie’s bumpy head as she dozed in the grass. It had been a long night and everyone, especially the new additions to the Academy, was tired.

& & &

“Hey, when did a private school move in?” Angelo heard a customer say as Jubilee slid into the café seat.

& & &
“We gotta go.” Jubilee could be seen across the hallway packing clothes into a satchel.

Angelo felt a weight build up in his stomach. “What’s going on?”

It was a stupid question, or so Jubilee told him with the look in her eyes. She continued to carefully pack, her experience clear in the choices she was making.

“I just heard Emma talking to a child welfare worker. They’re coming to look into you, me, Artie, and Leech.” She walked over to her closet and started to pull out hoodies and coats to wear besides her yellow raincoat.

“But Emma can scramble-” Angelo caught the coat suddenly thrown at him.

“They know that – they have a telepath coming to investigate. They realized it when I disappeared off the map after I started living at Xavier’s. They came there to bring me back to Juvi and then get me with relatives in Hong Kong.” She grabbed her box of photos and took out a photo of her parents, and one of the X-men before pulling out a picture of the team’s first cook out. “Emma and Xavier have been covering for us for years – we can’t let them do that any more. I can’t spend the next four years in China with relatives I haven’t seen since I was five. You can’t go back to your mom’s. We can’t let Artie or Leech go into foster homes… They’ll send us to Juvi.”

Angelo was already out of her room and stuffing everything he owned into the back he had brought with him when he moved in. “We’ll take the bus to Boston and then see how far the train can take us.”

“We’ll need image inducers for all of us. “I’ll bring the credit card Xavier gave me for emergencies.”

“He gave you a credit card?” Angelo sounded skeptical.

“Wolvie used to say, you never know where you’re going to be at the end of the day.” She closed her door and leaned into his room. “I left Paige a note, I’m going to start packing Leech and Artie’s bags. “She was gone before he could ask how they were going to sneak out and slip by Sean and Emma.

By the time Angelo was packed and a note to Jonothan and Everett was written, backs for Artie and Leech were packed and Jubilee was teaching them about the image inducers.

“…going to have to remember that you have to look like Ange and me.” Jubilee looked back at him and motioned for him to close the door before she went back to Artie’s fake watch. “When you need to tell us something, you’re going to have to sign, okay? I know your still learning, but we can’t let anyone see your images until were safe in a motel.”

Artie nodded and signed. “I’ll try.”

Leech fiddled with his watch and grumbled. “I haven’t gotten a name yet…”

“What about Jimmy?” Jubilee turned to Leech, gently swatting his hands. “You liked that name.”

“Ms. Frost says…” He looked down when Jubilee looked him in the eye.

“This is your choice, Leech. No one gave you a name – and you are not a leech. If you like Jimmy, you’re Jimmy, okay?”

He nodded, leaning against Artie’s arm as if to be sure his friend agreed.

“Okay guys.” Angelo stepped in, but not before he took their favorite stuffed animals and handed them over. “We’re taking the ‘young family’ route, aren’t we?”

Jubilee nodded. “It’s the best cover. Wolvie and I used it all the time when we traveled.”

“Okay,” Angelo found his inducer and thought about his skin the way it used to be before it turned grey. When he was sure of his mental image, he looked down at his bare arms and felt a shiver at the sight of normality.

Jubilee reached over and gave his arm a squeeze. Her hair was longer and her blue eyes were brown. “Alright, you both need to mix our looks, whatever you want, so you look like our kids. We’re lucky you’re short.” She poked Artie’s stomach teasingly. “So don’t make yourself older than eight or nine, okay?”

“But I’m eleven…” Leech moped. He really was having issues with being on the run again.

“I know, Jimmy. I know. But Angelo and I can only pretend we’re in our early twenty’s. You have to be at least eight or nine for it to work. We’re already going to get people asking when we had you.

Angelo did the math and groaned inwardly. He knew people were going to eye him and him the ‘for shame’ looks that said ‘you got your fifteen year old girlfriend pregnant’. Luckily, it wasn’t true and he could tell them off with ‘yeah, but I stayed’. He gave Jubilee a glance. She was too good at this. She knew what would win people over and what would keep them safe.

“…take the train.” Angelo clued back into Jubilee’s lecture and realized she was mapping out the first day.

Paige was right – Jubilee was secretly a leader.

“We’re heading to California first.” Angelo decided. “I need to make sure they don’t get to my mom first.”

Artie fluxuated between a multitude of looks that mixed between Angelo and Jubilee’s looks before he settled on Jubilee’s Chinese features and Angelo’s tanned skin. Leech looked more like Angelo, but he had Jubilee’s raven hair and large brown eyes.

“Good, we’ll have to change at our first stop when they start putting pictures up of us on the news. “Jubilee reached through the image induced over the boys and fixed their coats. “You guys ready?”

Both boys nodded, taking each others hands. Jubilee took lead with the kids following close behind and Angelo taking the back.

& & &

It was winter in the Berkshire Mountains and Christmas Eve, for those who recognized. Xavier Academy was out for Winter break and those who were able to were out and about at the local festivals and finished last minute shopping. Paige and Jubilee were already done with their own shopping, having done so the weekend after break started, but the boys, Angelo, Jonothan, and Everett, were behind. It didn't matter as much to those who were going home for Christmas, but it was an unspoken agreement between everyone that those staying at the Academy for the holidays, needed presents, as they had no home to go to and only Xavier's was family enough to remember them.

Money was already gone, polite presents sent via mail days after leaving. Everett would be the next to leave, along side Jonothan and Paige, all running off in different directions. Sean was going to spend Christmas with his daughter, but Emma gladly decided to stay at the Academy instead of visiting with her own family at one of the estates. Her students were better company than any of her sisters.

"Man, it's going to be weird with you guys gone till January." Jubilee groaned, chewing one of the fresh mall made pretzels. She watched Everett thinking over something in Sam Goody's before trailing over to where Angelo was stressing out about crappy jewelry in Claire's. Jonothan was somewhere, but she was sure Paige had tabs on him.

"Don't worry about it. It won't be like back at Xavier's. You'll have Angelo and Penance - and this will be Artie and Leech's first Christmas here." Paige pointed out, texting on her celphone. Jonothan's music note symbol bounced around and caused Jubilee to grin.

"Yeah well, I guess." She sighed, pulling down her sunglasses.

& & &

He carefully pressed his hands against the back of her hips, thumbs pressing into the stressed points of her spine. As he massaged pressure into them, he head a low moan escape Jubilee. She leaned back to relax against him closing her eyes as she reached for his hands and brought them up to wrap around the space just below her breasts. He buried his face into her hair, soft from a recent shower.

The room ignored them, their closeness nothing to the oblivious mentors.

& & &

She nuzzled the soft skin under his jaw and felt goosebumps spread down his chest and making his nerves pool at the bottom of his stomach.

“Jubes…” Angelo muttered into her hair, his hands grazing her hip that had gotten closer in a small amount of time.

“I never noticed how good you smell.” She laid her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his chest, hooking them under his arms.

He closed his eyes and let himself hug her waist. The sensation of lying beside someone brand new, but now warmth ran over his body. “I probably just smell like Logan…”

She sighed a light laugh, turning her face towards his neck so that her breath brushed against his skin and made it tingle. “No… cigars are too sweet. You’re… salty and like home.”

He pulled her closer at that, her entire body now fully against him. She was soft and warm and smelled like lotion and a hot shower.

Jubilee breathed a laugh again, now across his ear. “You miss home…” She pushed herself back just enough to look at him in the eye. “Do I remind you of home?”

Angelo knew he had gone blank; her words were all he needed at that moment. Home was California and his family. Home was everyone at the Academy. Home was someone who knew this and embodied it all. A girl who needed him.

Someone who knew he needed them.

Before she could lie back down, he moved his hands up to cradle her face and kissed her.

Let me know if you think I should try and write more to these. :)