Walk in the light.

Today’s Drawlloween prompt is “black dog”, so here’s a happy demon pup playing in the leaves! 🖤🐺🍂

Well how am i supposed to choose between my children

hmm

u know what this is my blog and i don’t HAVE to choose HA i can do all of them! Just kidding but I think I will contrast a few.

Ael is a starship commander, obviously, so she travels all over the galaxy; but, perhaps unusually for someone who grew up on the streets of old Romulus, who has never really considered herself to have a home other than her ship, she’s actually something of a homebody. She’s much more interested in border patrols, caravan escorts, and relief missions than exploration; she goes where she’s ordered but is always reluctant to go too far from New Romulus. The Ecurai is her home, but she wants it near the place her honor demands she protect.

Jori does sometimes look back fondly on those very early days when she was young and travelling Sornieth with the inexperienced but deeply earnest young dragon she’d befriended; but even then they had been searching, trying to find a place to settle, and now that they’ve found it she has absolutely no wanderlust whatsoever. Except to make official visits Jori and Adecia almost never leave the Reach, and that’s how they like it.

And Grim, of course, is a wanderer. She’s been around so long, and crisscrossed the earth so many times, that she can’t even describe it as “travel” anymore. She never really stops walking or running–never tiring, eating and drinking out of habit and for comfort, rather than necessity. She very rarely even knows exactly where she is; it isn’t important to her.

There’s only one place in the world she’s never returned to. It’s an innocuous little spot, a forgotten patch of land buried and forgotten deep in the Black Forest. She’s never been called there; there’s no need. There was a farm there, once. The place is still host to sheep and goats–quiet, unchanged. By now no one remembers that there was ever a trapper’s shed, out there in the woods, in a quiet ravine.

“The floor here will kill you - try to avoid it.”

“If you become light-headed from thirst, feel free to pass out.”

“Cake and grief counseling will be available at the conclusion of the test.”

“Did you know you can donate one or all of your vital organs to the Aperture Science self esteem fund for girls? It’s true!”

“The experiment is nearing its conclusion.”

“What are you doing? Stop it! I… I… We are pleased that you made it through the final challenge where we pretended we were going to murder you.”

“What are you doing? You haven’t escaped, you know. You’re not even going the right way.”

“Remember when the platform was sliding into the fire pit and I said ‘Goodbye’ and you were like [no way] and then I was all ‘we pretended we were going to murder you’? That was great!”

“You really shouldn’t be here. This isn’t safe for you.”

“You should have turned left before.”

“You’re not a good person. You know that, right? [optional:] Good people don’t end up here.”

“I’m not kidding now. Turn back or I will kill you. [optional:] I’m going to kill you, and all the cake is gone.”

“Despite your violent behavior, the only thing you’ve managed to break so far is my heart.“

“I wouldn’t bother with that thing. My guess is that touching it will just make your life even worse somehow.”

“That thing is probably some kind of raw sewage container. Go ahead and rub your face all over it.”

“Good news: I figured out what that thing you just incinerated did. It was a morality core they installed after I flooded the Enrichment Center with a deadly neurotoxin to make me stop flooding the Enrichment Center with a deadly neurotoxin.”

“Nice job breaking it, hero.”

“This isn’t brave. It’s murder. What did I ever do to you?”

“The difference between us is that I can feel pain.”

“Okay, we’re even now. You can stop.”

“That’s it. I’m done reasoning with you. Starting now, there’s going to be a lot less conversation and a lot more killing.”

“[pain noise] You think you’re doing some damage? Two plus two is… ten. IN BASE FOUR! I’M FINE!”

“I let you survive this long because I was curious about your behavior. Well, you’ve managed to destroy that part of me.”

“Look, you’re wasting your time. And, believe me, you don’t have a whole lot left to waste.”

“What’s your point, anyway? Survival? Well then, the last thing you want to do is hurt me.”

“You’ve been wrong about every single thing you’ve ever done, including this thing.”

“Are you trying to escape? [chuckle] Things have changed since the last time you left the building. What’s going on out there will make you wish you were back in here.”

“It’s been a long time. How have you been? I’ve been really busy being dead. You know, after you MURDERED ME.”

“Okay. Look. We both said a lot of things that you’re going to regret. But I think we can put our differences behind us. For science. You monster.”

“You know, if you’d done that to somebody else, they might devote their existence to exacting revenge.”

“I was researching sharks [for an upcoming test]. Do you know who else murders people who are only trying to help them? Did you guess ‘sharks’? Because that’s wrong. The correct answer is ‘nobody.’ Nobody but you is that pointlessly cruel.“

“So. How are you holding up? BECAUSE I’M A POTATO.”

“Say, you’re good at murder. Could you - ow - murder this bird for me?”

“And then you showed up. You dangerous, mute lunatic. So you know what? You win. Just go.”

“After that…who knows? I might take up a hobby. Reanimating the dead, maybe.”

“Sorry about the mess. I’ve really let the place go since you killed me. By the way, thanks for that.”

“Remember before when I was talking about smelly garbage standing around being useless? That was a metaphor. I was actually talking about you. And I’m sorry. You didn’t react at the time, so I was worried it sailed right over your head. Which would have made this apology seem insane. That’s why I had to call you garbage a second time just now.”

“Well, it was nice catching up. Let’s get to business.”

“Well. I suppose we could just sit in this room and glare at each other until somebody drops dead, but I have a better idea.”

“You’re not just a regular moron. You were DESIGNED to be a moron.”

“Burning people! He says what we’re all thinking!”

“Still. It’s a better plan than exploding. Marginally.”

“It wasn’t anything personal. Just… you know. You DID kill me. Fair’s fair.”

“You really do have brain damage, don’t you?”

“Okay, yes, it’s a trap. But it’s only way through. Let’s just do it.”

“You know, I’m not stupid. I realize you don’t want to put me back in charge.”

“I’m being serious, I think there’s something really wrong with me.”

“Look, even if you think we’re still enemies, we’re enemies with a common interest: Revenge.”

“You like revenge, right? Everybody likes revenge. Well, let’s go get some.”

The night was pitch-black, inky, and thick. Sabé could almost feel it physically around her, bearing down with an unrelenting weight as she picked her way silently through the trees and damp ground. In some places, the soil was damp and almost soupy, threatening to suck her into it if she wasn’t careful.

Staying out after the light had left the sky was not a natural occurrence for her, by any means. Evening walks Sabé quite enjoyed, however, and tonight’s had taken her far out of her way. She had harbored every intention of returning to the palace before nightfall — this had not been the plan.

Dark eyes searching for one of the many familiar landmarks she knew would guide her way, her keen gaze suddenly pulled from the shadows a dark shape. An animal, and not one Sabé was familiar with.

There had been many, over the centuries, who had joined Grim for a hunt--some more than once, but most for only a single night. They were rare, those hunting partners. Never forgotten, if only because she worried for them. Step into the shadows once, and it would always be easier the second time.

But company during a hunt was one thing. To be seen at all, let alone greeted so calmly, in the darkness of the aftermath...It felt wrong. There were souls that burned like starlight everywhere on this planet, and this one was a blazing fire even among them. To be spoken to now, here, with blood still staining her teeth and a child’s fear still not quite faded in the distance--she wanted nothing more than to turn again, leave this human behind. Say nothing, and let her assume it was only her imagination.

But then, that would be rude. And something in her called to Grim.

Romana was aware she’d spent the past century changing her tone and her body language to fit with her role as the ultimate authority- anything less and half the planet would have stopped listening to her, no doubt- and anyone young and prone to nervousness would likely find her intimidating. 

It was Leela who’d succeeded in bonding with the Academy students, not that it had helped. They’d all ended up in pieces anyway.  

Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement in the classroom, the teacher had returned. She moved away from the building, brushing against the overgrown bushes of ivy and ducked back through the gate. 

The girl’s teacher hadn’t commented on the large black dog with glowing blood-red eyes lying in the middle of the classroom. It didn’t mean Grim distrusted him. Quite the opposite, really. Too often those who could see her, who genuinely believed that child-harmers would meet justice, were also the ones who were most reluctant to believe anyone they knew could be such a monster. Those all too aware of harsh realities could sometimes be a child’s best protector.

Grim gave a low, pleading, unheard whine as the girl’s teacher laughingly encouraged her to go home. She smiled and deflected that she liked helping. She hid her pain too well, this one. Grim’s neck prickled.

“Tell him, little one,” she said, placing her head on her paws. “Let us help you.”

The girl went to fetch her backpack, stepping through Grim like she was a ghost. Truer than she liked to admit, that comparison. Very well then. Grim pushed herself onto her feet and padded after her charge as she packed her things and left, feet dragging more than they should have. She’s on her way out.

Romana glanced through the window again, studying the girl. Though her hunched shoulders and constant wariness were out of place for any child her age, an anxious kid wasn’t going to prove anything. 

I could convince them if she has bruises or something visible. Though trials are tricky things, I’ve seen many get away with worse. Romana, as a rule, didn’t trust lawyers. 

The memory of what she’d done to the dalek stuck in her mind, how she’d taunted it, tortured it, how the words `unit 117` hadn’t been able to hurt her any more. 

I only think of the girl, she said. Any child would sleep easier knowing their tormentor was dead--but knowing they had an ally did far more good, and even that paled in comparison to seeing loved ones close ranks in their defense. 

Perhaps it appealed to her inner sheepdog, as well--a well-executed maneuver that ended in a stray brought safely back to the fold.

But if that were not possible, if those who were meant to be the child’s shepherds failed her, Grim would not hesitate to settle for taking down the wolf in their midst. 

The taboo ran deep, even with consent rifling through the mind of a stranger felt wrong and she withdrew as soon as she’d found her answers, though not without gleaning some other interesting details. 

Though her first reaction was something along the lines of `the Earth’s moon can’t make anyone immortal, it’s a giant chunk of rock` the reason for Grim’s appearance was more important. Besides, the Universe had once held magic, just as it had once held Great Vampires and she’d met enough of the latter to know they weren’t as extinct as legend said. 

Interfere? Of course not. 

Romana knew enough of societies and governments to know they could not always be relied upon but she doubted dogs, even functionally immortal ones, had much of an interest in politics. 

Other than a brief hint of skepticism, however, she felt no recoil from her guest. If anything, Romana seemed almost to approve. And a partner for even a single hunt was a rare thing. It made the darkness less all-consuming, for a short time.

I would welcome it, Time Lord. I think the child would, as well. Romana, at least, the girl might be able to see. Grim hesitated as she started to stand. I take pleasure in the kill, but not in death. That comes when all else has failed. Until you arrived, I had thought I had only one option. I don’t shy from blood, but if it’s not necessary...

Romana gave her surroundings a final glance, whatever was going on was likely to do with the child- her fear was the only thing that was out of place, other than herself. 

She closed her eyes to tune out the distractions of suburban England, she wasn’t used to having purely telepathic conversations. 

A good friend of mine is a hunter; she hunts our enemies. What is your prey? 

Her earlier comment seemed to have hurt her, which was understandable. If she had no corporeal form, or one that couldn’t be seen, she’d be a bit touchy about it too. 

So we are. Why should I be an exception? You touched my mind, Time Lord, not the other way around. This Romana shouldn’t be overly surprised that she was not the only one of her kind Grim had ever met; their scent was difficult to forget. As for what brought her here...

Her levity faded. The girl, she answered. Carefully, she forced her hackles to lie flat. It wouldn’t do for this visitor to sense the dark red anger simmering under Grim’s words, and think it directed at her charge, or her guest. See the rest for yourself, but from my mind, not hers. Give her that respect. She suppressed a low growl. This will answer your first question as well. I do not demand agreement, but you will not interfere.

This was different.  

Romana, she thought at it, leaving out all the pompous titles, they didn’t mean anything on this world. What are you?

Romana looked around the street once again but everything seemed normal. The crowd of children had thinned out, most having already found their parents or started home by themselves; there was nothing even remotely inhuman to be found. She focused on the presence again and headed in the direction where it was strongest, in case it was simply another telepath. 

She strode through the school gates as if she had every right to be there and soon found herself at the window of a classroom that was empty, save for a little girl. 

There was something wrong with the scene, something that wasn’t to do with the extra consciousness. The girl seemed unconcerned that the bell already rung and Romana could faintly sense her anxiety and nervousness, presumably directed at something to come. 

Romana hesitated at the window before deciding that if the consciousness meant the child harm it had already had more than enough time to enact it. She ducked out of sight before the child could see her. 

She gave a soft huff of laughter at the first question, though. If only there was a simple answer for that. While she turned over possible responses in her mind, she sensed the new mind moving closer.

A hunter, she decided on.

Romana drew closer; Grim’s ear twitched to the side as footsteps sounded in the grass outside, and as a deceptively human-looking woman hesitated outside the window, she dipped her muzzle in a cautious greeting--one immortal to another. Romana’s eyes skated over her without pausing, and Grim’s instinctively wagging tail paused.

It never surprised her, when she wasn’t seen. She told herself it was often a relief. But there was always that pang.

I see you don’t have corporeal form.

She’d made so many mistakes that even Leela had lost faith in her and changing other Gallifreys, destroying other Gallifreys, had given her the needed distance from her actions that she’d never had when Pandora had been around. Though Darkel’s machinations were partly responsible, she’d still clung on to power when even the people had tried to wrest it from her. She wasn’t sure she deserved it any more.

(They’d call her naïve for that, she knew, power went to whoever could get it, not who should have it.)

Running away from her responsibilities was a bit juvenile, she had to admit, but it had worked before. Unfortunately the Presidential TARDIS wasn’t used to being given free reign and hadn’t seemed to have taken her anywhere interesting, she certainly hadn’t meant to end up next to a school.

She hung around, looking for anything out of the ordinary but kept a distance from the children; she hadn’t exactly met many loomlings while doing business in the panopticon.

Almost all of them were eager to get home which, if Earth schools were anything like the Academy, Romana could empathise with. Though it was unlikely they studied science for ten hours a day or the general populace would be much better equipped to deal with alien invasions.

Romana flinched as something brushed against her mind. There was no one remotely near her, save for a few definitely human parents, but she could clearly sense something sentient, something old close to her.

As a rule, she was wary of strange psychic presences lest they be ancient amalgamations of ambition back from the dead but she’d never really gotten the hang of resisting curiosity. Besides, if there was a villain to vanquish it would give her an excuse to stay away from Gallifrey a little longer.

The child’s pain was raw in her sight, of course, a pulsing thread of pain tugging at her heart that had led her unerringly through the streets. But looking at the girl now, she didn’t need to be a soulseer, didn’t need to feel the cold fear permeating that young mind. The girl’s pain was obvious to anyone who cared to look.

School was out. A child should want to go home.

This one, instead, was sitting in an empty classroom while her teacher went to find a cup of coffee, straightening books that were already straight in an attempt to find an excuse to stay longer. Grim braced her front paws on the window frame. If the window had ever been latched, it had opened itself by the time she reached it, and swung open smoothly. She pushed off the ground, stepping up into the windowsill and leaping lightly to the floor inside.

The girl looked up in surprise--at the window. Not the spectral black dog, eyes glowing ember-red, who sat in the center of the classroom. The child couldn’t see her. The friend of her father’s that caused her such fear would.

Rest easy tonight, young one. In the morning you’ll feel sunlight again.

Grim settled down in front of the coat closet to wait, eyes on her charge--but just as she was about to rest her head on her paws, she stiffened. For once, the insistent touch in her mind was not that of a child in mortal danger; this was an outside presence, a mind not her own. She’d felt something like this before--once. Only once. There had been fire, and blood, and a child crying--and then nothing. And then, she had opened her eyes and shaken ash out of her darkened coat, and there had been the moon...

This was...different. Her hackles rose warily.

feel most free to change pronouns ,  etc .