#abyssalones

leia + kitchen

What is the character’s favourite food?: oh jeez man i don’t even know where to start with space food. she’s probably been sampling various earth foods though and i imagine things like, say, pizza make absolutely no sense to her whatsoever but she can’t deny how gr8 they are.

Are they good at cooking? How good/bad?: she’s decent at it! she grumbles and resents it like she does most domestic activities but she can provide for herself.

Do they leave the dishes out?: no. that’s something han would do >____>

What kind of food is in their refrigerator?: as of right now? it’s probably not very full, but there are like, samplings of different types of earth foods she’s experimenting with or finds weird or cool.

Do they cook, eat out or get take-away/delivered food more?: cook, mostly. wtf is take-out.

leia + bedroom

How does this character sleep? (Position, sleeping habits, bedtime routines): usually not very soundly. she’s a wired sleeper, not particularly restless buuut very easily jolted awake and kind of instinctively reactionary once she is. it’s a product of wartime. sometimes she’ll sleep a little sounder if she’s around a group she particularly trusts.

What are their pyjamas like?: hmm i’d imagine she just wears, like, less formal robes or something. a lot of earth sleepwear is probably kind of ??? to her. also she wears her hair down and leia has. a lot of hair.

What do they dream about usually?: han and luke and the sound of their laughing, hazy images of her mother she shouldn’t be able to remember, sometimes something similarly relevant to the past or future (thnx 2 da force), alderaan and the faces she knew there and the endless expanse of stars that stretches where her home once was.

How neat/tidy is this character?: she’s had neatness drilled into her. and tbh there was a time where she just. aggressively rebelled against that as she did most royal etiquette, but really it’s part of her own personality as well and she gets frustrated and agitated when things are disorganized or out of place, sO.

How affectionate is this character?: this is an interesting question, and really, it varies?? leia still has problems, like... showing vulnerability and opening up emotionally. she’s still a long way from the woman who would just. hug rey the first time they met. so really she does not get touchy feel-y with most people, like, physically she tends to be somewhat distanced beyond like a handshake or maybe a hand on a shoulder. but with people she’s extremely close to -- basically solely luke and han as of now -- she’s actually very physical and takes initiative in showing affection aND A CUTE THING ABOUT HER CHARACTER IS LIKE. when she really, really likes someone she can just have sudden outbursts of affection that she doesn’t know what to do with, and then quickly reel back, like when she hugged evaan. but yeah basically most of the time physical contact is very formal and professional with her unless she really feels comfortable with you.

kara + attic

What is the character afraid of?: feeling helpless, not being able to save everyone (realistically, she knows she can’t, not always, but that still scares her), losing alex because fuck she can’t lose her family again, her own hurt and anger, especially after seeing what those emotions did to astra. oh, and cat grant??? except for those times when cat is being so ridiculously stubborn or grouchy that kara is just. spurred into being like “okay no”. see: the adam incident.

How do they deal with bad memories?: she’s very prone to feeling lonely. honestly it helps her to talk about the things that have hurt her, but she has... so few opportunities to do so because of the secrets she has to keep and how much they isolate her. when she can’t talk about it, though, just... nice things help -- movie nights with alex, honest advice from cat, ratchet making her laugh on denny...

What is this character’s role in a horror movie?: FUCK IDK. PUNCH ANYTHING THAT COMES AT HER WITH A KNIFE???

How do they hide their secrets?: BADLY. OH MY GOD. she’s lucky most people are just incapable of recognizing her, and to be fair to her she does a pretty good job of putting on a different persona when she’s supergirl, but like. if anyone were to like... ask her directly... she’s suuuuch a bad liar oh my god.

Which of the Seven Deadly Sins does the character relate to most?: hmmm WRATH I THINK. wrath is not usually the first emotion you would think of when you think of kara, but we’ve absolutely seen her struggle a lot with her anger and finding a healthy way to deal with it and that’s an important part of her character to me.

the countess + living room

How does the character spend weekends?: sometimes she’ll go out hunting if she has someone to go with, if she can have some fun with it, but otherwise it’s not really... much of an event, and doesn’t have to be done on the weekends. sometimes she’ll just treat herself, instead, and go out shopping or to get her nails done or something.

What kind of movies does the character watch?: all kinds. seriously, filmmaking is an artform she legitimately respects, and she’s watched it evolve a lot over the past century, so she has a special fondness for it. not that she’ll admit she gets as into it as, say, donovan.

What do they do with friends?: depends on the friend??? with most of them she doesn’t do anything, like, particularly surreal or out of the ordinary though. she has a lot of fond memories of just hanging out with liz.

What’s their favourite pasttime?: uhhh well, y’know, death and sex, but she also appreciates fashion a lot. other modern things can be kind of hit or miss with her, but she likes a lot of elements of nightlife and can usually be found out doing something.

What’s their favourite TV show/Film?: mmmMMM she likes a lot of the old classics. especially old black and white monster movies and like, really formative stuff that clearly had an effect on its genre or on filmmaking in general. she’s always enjoyed watching that kind of evolution. also: people went nuts over star wars in the 70′s, like. no one had ever seen anything like it before and it literally changed the way people made movies forever. i am 100% sure that she appreciates star wars.

max + attic

What is the character afraid of?: she’s really really afraid of losing people (ahaha), she’s afraid of failing in any capacity that matters to her (for instance, she’s okay with neglecting some of her classes, considering her gpa, but she’s sooo focused on her photography and sensitive to failing people), she’s afraid of a lot of things, really, and i would imagine that now she especially has some uh. dark room-related fears, in general. actually her nightmare indicates a lot of fear related to masculinity, and i think that’s important to note.

How do they deal with bad memories?: sobs. i... think max likes to deal with things by putting distance between herself and them. that makes her feel safe. you see this a lot when she uses her abilities and kind of finds immediate relief in switching to another timeline, but also i think her not contacting chloe for years is pretty indicative of this?? recently, though, she’s trying to become a little more confrontational in that regard. photography is a good coping mechanism for her. not even as simple escapism, but as a way of capturing and keeping things that remind her of what she’s lost, and a way of exercising some control over those that remind her of her trauma.

What is this character’s role in a horror movie?: she has watched a lot of horror movies, and is thus a very genre-savvy individual. she’d be a final girl, probably. and i mean. well...

How do they hide their secrets?: she’s good at like, not running her mouth when it’s important, thankfully. and hey, if she ever slips up, she can always just rewind!!! nbd!!! but a lot of her thoughts and secrets do get written down in her journal, so there’s that.

A perfect combination of “the gen I started with” and “the gen I became famous for”

abyssalones said:also thank you for your answer yesterday! 

Oh good, I’m glad it went through. Mobile is always kind of a gamble with that stuff.

Midrank dragons are important, do you know how quickly everything turns to shit without NCOs and middle management?

No, because everyone has NCOs and middle management.

BECAUSE WITHOUT THEM WE WOULD ALL DEVOLVE INTO ANARCHY

@all-women-kick-ass There are more of us. You have to shame us harder, now, before we multiply further.

Thank you, Storm. I actually opened up the list of all the pokemon in the games and went through it one by one trying to make sure I remembered everyone. But then I have 47, so I had to pull a bunch, too.

for storm (abyssalones), who requested something with judar/alana or team shonen hell in general and them growing and learning and getting some semblance of a happy ending. in some ways, out of all my gift fics, this was the hardest to write but it also ended up being... one of my favorites, tbh. i finally got to write a Good End fic for them and that’s been a long time coming??? ANYWAY STORM i hope you like this and that i handled judar’s character well. i respect the way you write and handle character arcs so much and it always feels so ambitious living up to that through fic -- but writing you this was 1000% worth it because i can’t express how much i’m grateful to have such a selfless, compassionate, loyal person in my life. you make me laugh when i need to, and you also let me cry when i need to, and as someone who’s always found it difficult to open up to even the closest people in my life, i want you to know how much that means to me.

“You know…” Judar’s voice takes on that taunting, goading note that’s become all too familiar. “I think you’re scared.”

Alana turns to look at him properly, eyebrows raised just a fraction. He’s grinning at her eagerly, one hand outstretched, smug and haughtily amused but not quite biting the way he once might have been. She’s not sure how much she wants to tell him about his half-truth of a statement, anyway.

“I’m not much for flying,” she finally tells him, and it’s the truth. She’s not much for heights in general, these days. She told him, once, what happened to her, and he certainly knows how much she hates Hannibal -- but they’ve never really spoken of the vulnerable aspect of that. How much it hurt. “And you’re just trying to show off.”

Judar grumbles something under his breath, and then shoots past her, rising further up into the air with pointed ease and freedom. “Some King Vessel you’re gonna make, if you can’t even trust me,” he says.

It’s not that, she thinks, and on his part, it probably wasn’t (for the most part) even a serious statement. She thinks it may have stung both of them regardless, if only just a little.

--

Christmas Day is kind of an ordeal, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. They all exchange their gifts, this ragtag sort of group they’ve assembled, and she’s more or less structured her expectations for this: how not-quite-smoothly (but mostly sincerely, none the less), all of this would go.

The only real surprise comes when Margot leads her into the room where she’s smuggled in the puppy -- and Alana’s laughing and kissing her, and the puppy is kissing both of them, and Judar’s snuck up behind it all to investigate what’s going on, and his expression just sort of goes blank with confusion.

“You had the same idea as me,” he says almost accusatorily, when they turn to him.

Margot is the first to recover from their shared amusement. “...Sorry?”

He shoots her a flat-out scowl. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be the big animal-lover. So I got you a fucking dog.”

The silence that follows is so clearly stunned that Judar shifts his weight after a moment, and then lets out a resounding “Tch.”

“You… got me a…?” Margot is still clearly trying to process this turn of events, but Alana’s hurriedly busied herself again with the puppy that’s already present -- ducking her head, not meeting anyone’s eyes and trying desperately not to laugh. It’s just occurred to her -- the conversation she and Judar had about Christmas, a few weeks ago. About giving Margot a peace offering.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it!” he snaps at them both, harassed. “It’s the ugliest fucking dog I’ve ever seen, anyway! And I got it from one of those stupid shelters, so --”

“You rescued a dog for Margot?” Alana breaks in, knowing she probably shouldn’t make this worse but unable to resist. “That’s so sweet.”

“--So it’s used!” Judar finishes, raising his voice defiantly. “Anyway, if you don’t want it, I’ll just take the damn thing back. I had to keep it in my room, so it better not have wrecked any of my stuff, either.”

“...No,” Margot says slowly, having finally recovered at least somewhat. “No. I’d like to… see it.”

Judar turns on his heel and begrudgingly stalks back towards his room, Margot glancing back at her once before following cautiously. Alana scoops the puppy up in her arms and decides to follow at a distance -- just in case she ends up having to pull them apart, at some point.

She only really starts to worry when she hears Margot say, “Judar -- I don’t think that’s a dog.”

“What are you talking about?” Judar asks, annoyed. “It was in the shelter. It’s just one of those shitty hairless ones -- it belonged to some other rifter family.”

To better gauge the situation, Alana leans forward to peer over their shoulders. It takes her a moment to spot the actual, live armadillo huddled under the bed.

“That’s,” she says, officially at a loss for words. “Wow.”

“Whatever.” Judar inspects his room closely, and then turns back to both of them, scornful and perhaps a touch defensive. “It’s not like I put a ton of effort into this, you know. What’d you expect?”

Margot is silent for a moment, and Alana glances to the side to gauge her reaction. Baffled as she looks, much of her the usual irritation that typically accompanies interacting with Judar is missing.

“...Certainly not this,” she answers finally, and, Alana suspects, very honestly. But she enters the room, despite that, carefully approaching the bed and kneeling to see if she might coax the animal out -- however one coaxes an armadillo out of anything. “But we can’t take him back now. You’ve already given him hope that he’s found another family.”

Judar watches her for a moment, and then gives another series of grumbles. Well, he’s going to be disappointed either way, Alana catches vaguely from the muddled together words, but for all his huffing some of his usual careless scorn is missing, as well.

She shifts the puppy in her arms, and thoughtfully averts her gaze from the scene. This isn’t squabbling, and it’s not the fierce, sometimes-shaky unity that training brings them together through, either. She thinks perhaps it is the closest the three of them, as a unit, have ever gotten to stability together, and she softens a little as she examines the moment instead of wondering how long it might last.

--

“He’s -- he’s getting away --” Snarling out half-choked words, Judar shudders, and then sends a blast of lightning through the trees, fruitlessly tumbling one of them into blackened pieces.

All in all, not quite how Alana had pictured their assault on Raccoon City going.

Hannibal had known. Somehow, of course, he had known about their interest in the place -- maybe he’d had means of watching them that she hadn’t yet discovered; she knows should have been suspicious at his inactivity of late -- and, as per usual, his timing has been horrific. He’d made his appearance, she and Margot had torn after them, and underestimating the depth and almost-sentient trickery of the jungle, the three of them had gotten separated.

Right up until she’d stumbled upon Judar in a clearing, radiating a worrying, sickening sort of energy and faced with a twisted-faced woman who’d disappeared into smoke the moment Alana had stepped into view.

He sends another pointless blast at the trees, and Alana can only stare. Every moment that passes is another that Hannibal slips further out of their reach -- killing him here, she knows, would have been ideal. No witnesses, no civilization, no proof. She’s waited all this time, all this time, and  --

“Fuck, Alana -- go after him!” Judar rounds on her, and her gaze snaps to meet his -- and his rage and pain make him look so lost that something inside her shudders.

She’d have Hannibal. She’d have him, if she moved now.

All she needs to do is think of all the people he’s hurt, all the ways he’s lied to her, to remember how much she hates him. Hatred is powerful, blindingly powerful, a grip not easy to climb out of -- she, and Judar, and Margot, they’re all living testaments to that sentiment. She can’t just let go. She can’t just let go --

But Judar’s been here, alone, with a shadow of the woman who took everything from him, again. He’s not just hating, he’s hurting, and when she thinks of that --

When she thinks of that, and her feet finally move, it’s towards him and not her vengeance.

“Judar,” she says, hands flying to his shoulders to steady him, despite the fact that her heart pounds and her instincts tell her the energy in the air is wrong and she half-expects to be blasted away from him. “Judar, look at me.”

He does, distanced, unfocused, but slowly coming to with the weight of his incredulity. “What the fuck are you doing?”

She doesn’t have an answer for him.

“I know it hurts,” she tells him. “I know it hurts, and it doesn’t help that it wasn’t real. But she’s gone. I’m here. It’s hard, but you need to focus on that. I --”  The words choke her briefly. “I won’t leave you.”

They stare at each other in silence -- just silence. Judar’s fists clench at his sides, and Alana doesn’t move. Hannibal may never give her another chance, she thinks, but she can’t throw herself into the regret that’s become so familiar to her, this time.

“Alana?” The silence breaks, and Alana realizes with a flutter of relief that Margot’s found them -- regret might have been resisted, but fear had still flitted in the back of her mind, thinking of her out there, alone, with him.

She wavers a little, finally lets go of Judar, and for a moment she can’t look at either of them.

“He got away,” she tells Margot. Corrects herself. “...Is getting away.”

Margot stares at her for a beat, then casts a wary glance at their surroundings as if half-expecting Hannibal himself to leap from them at any moment. There’s a question in her eyes, when Alana finally meets them -- and then her gaze lands on Judar.

“What happened?” she asks after a stiff moment.

Judar seems coherent enough to make an effort to control himself, at this point, in the presence of both of them. The black rukh swirling through the air is no longer visible, and Alana no longer gets the sense that being close to him is a hazard, but he’s still in no place to disguise his reaction.

“This place happened,” he replies with low venom after a moment. “Like it always does.”

Margot blinks slowly before glancing once over her shoulder. Briefly, Alana recognizes temptation flitting across her face, too. But she turns her attention back on the two of them, glances between them, and eventually begins a cautious approach.

Judar’s watching her all the while. His own expression twists in a grimace, something that might have been a fractured grin in another situation. “You’re both idiots. This is what we’ve been working for this whole time. It --”

No one leaps to fill the silence when he cuts off. No one tries to deny it. Margot’s come to a halt nearby, and Alana knows she knows it too -- what they’ve given up. It isn’t a choice that’s transformative -- her hatred doesn’t just melt away. But she’s clinging to something stronger, right now.

“He’s not the only reason any of this matters.” After what seems like an eternity, she finds words, brittle as they are. “Judar, don’t -- don’t you see that?”

He’s right, of course, in that they joined up with him for a chance at vengeance, a chance to change things, but Alana’s only realized in this moment why she has so many more reasons to stay.

For a stretching moment, Judar says nothing. Can say nothing. Alana lets him have his silence, but doesn’t waver, even when she feels Margot tense at her side, even when she sees Judar’s tears and she’s not sure whether they’re sad or angry or something else --

Alana’s too stunned to move, at first, when he sways and finally falls to his knees, shoulders barely keeping from shaking. It’s Margot who manages it first, Margot who lowers herself to the ground beside him, carefully, gingerly. Margot, who has been so bitterly uncertain of her own capacity for softness, for motherhood, who acts on instinct and perhaps more than just instinct even despite all that’s happened between them.

Alana feels as if something inside her has broken itself and fixed all in the same moment, and when she moves to join them, the ground around them begins to change, and the forest starts to fade away.

--

The day comes when Judar can offer her his hand, still half-teasing, and she can smile a little when she surprises him by taking it.

Again, it’s not that everything’s changed. Change can happen all at once, can shatter everything you once knew like glass -- Alana knows that as well as anyone.

But their change is gradual. Patience has always been a strong point of Margot’s, and a weakness of Judar’s -- one of the many ways they contrast each other so vividly. Alana’s feeling less and less like she’s caught in the middle, though, and more like she wants to be there.

There will be things, always, that they will never quite be able to let go of. The three of them understand that about each other. So Alana takes it as an achievement, that it no longer feels like she’s falling these days. The wounds that being pushed through that window left feel more like old scars, at least, and she can take Judar’s hand and he doesn’t have to ask whether or not she trusts him.

It’s summer again, and since Judar no longer has the cold to gripe about, they finally settle themselves on a hilltop overlooking Beacon Heights to breathe.

“I’m thinking of asking Margot to marry me,” Alana tells him idly, not bothering to mention that she hasn’t breathed word of this to anyone else, has barely acknowledged it in her own thoughts.

“Gross,” Judar says, right on cue. She catches him glancing at her, though, hesitating. “I mean. I guess you could do worse.”

She rolls her eyes, but can’t quite fight back a smile. “It’s more or less just a means of making things official, at this point.” Because she and Margot know, by now, how closely they are intertwined -- it seems an impossibility, not being in each other’s lives forever.

It’s not just Margot anymore, though. Alana can remember a time when she made a cautious, diligent effort not to get too close to Judar, but now it’s difficult to think about saying goodbye to him, too. Him, and Melanie, and Kirito --

There’s a word for what they mean to her, but she’s trying to choose hers carefully. She shifts in the grass, turns to him, and studies him closely. Sometimes Judar looks tired to her, these days, like he’s finally started to feel some of the weight he’s been carrying around for so much of his life. It hasn’t destroyed him, though. Not in the way he used to be sure it would. Somehow, they’re all still here, all still intact.

“You’ll come, won’t you?” she asks him finally. It’s the only way to press the point she wants to make. “To the wedding?”

There’s the slightest pause -- and then, to make an effort to show what a burden this is, he sighs loudly and flops down on his back, staring up at the clear blue sky. “Well, it’s not like I’m going anywhere between now and then,” he grumbles -- then adds, for good measure. “Probably.”

She’s quick to hide her smile when he glances at her, raising her gaze to the skies above them as well.

“There’d better be some pretty decent food, too,” Judar adds after a moment, and it gets a laugh out of her, clear and easier than laughter used to come.