#felonous

It was nearly five years ago that he had found himself staring into the portal to the Shadowlands, going through the list of ‘what ifs’ in his mind. His family would be there, somewhere; everyone but Kara, at least. He knew it would be an extremely slim chance of ever finding them, yet his eyes constantly searched regardless during his brief time in Oribos.

He found himself in a similar situation today, staring into an open time rift from afar, wondering similar, yet very different questions. Of course within most of these rifts the world had fallen to enemies they had already defeated within their own time, but he had heard stories of other ‘normal’ rifts opening and people suddenly finding themselves face-to-face with another them from a different timeline. 

It was extremely probable that there were various timelines out there where both his wife and son would still be alive and thriving. Kynson would be a grown man by now, and perhaps Dice would find himself to be a grandpa in another life. The possibilities were endless. Surely there was a timeline where Dicenne himself had died and his wife and son survived, and maybe they were thinking the same thing...

What if….

It was a terrible rabbit hole to fall down into, but with all the current events it was impossible not to question everything and envision this bizarre ‘happily ever after’. But that’s what the timewalker wardens and guardians were here to fix and to prevent. Still…

“Dice, you ok?” A tap on his shoulder stirred him from his trance.

He blinked a few times, and turned to look at Felonous, who was now also peering off into the distance. “Yeah, sorry, just…lost in thought.”

“We all think about it too. Hard not to, right? If only we could figure out how to get to that ‘perfect’ timeline that would fix all of our wounds and woes.”

Dicenne nodded in agreement. “But then you still have the memory of all those things happening, and you wouldn’t have had the same experiences with the same people. They wouldn’t share any of those memories. Sounds like it would be a little lonely in many ways, and selfish in others.”

Felon smiled and hooked an arm around his friend’s waist, turning him away from the distant rift. “Smart man. C’mon, it’s too early for an existential crisis. We got some weapons and armor that need to be fixed.”

Ryland Falkov Art by the amazing keelerleah

Happy Christmas to my good friend and amazing human being, the mun behind @theconstructsworld​! Seven or so years ago, @felonous​ and myself got art by this talented artist of our two pirate boys Felonous & Red (@tristennedarkmorn​); we specifically picked out opposite color palettes since it fit them so well.  Now that he’s playing his own member of that crew, I wanted to get him art to join the series, and a mix between the two color palettes fit him perfectly!

Last Week

Taric pulled his scarf away from the lower half of his face, turning his gaze up towards the tear in the sky above Icecrown. He covered his left eye, staring upwards with the half-golden, half-blue right one. Most assumed the heterochromia was simply just a genetic trait, but it served a purpose. Always ‘half-in, half-out’, as he would tell those that knew about his ability to traverse through the Shadowlands. Being able to constantly see into the Shadowlands and the living world at the same time was something he had grown accustomed to; it had its pros and cons.  While in Icecrown?  Definitely way more cons.

“What do you see?” While Red too possessed the ‘Darkmorn gift’, he fell into one of the generations that the heterochromatic eyes skipped. After some of the stories his grandfather and Taric told him, he was grateful for that.

Taric squinted his right eye, holding up a spyglass to get a better view. “It’s like a giant never-ending black hole. A tunnel?  Or a portal? Hard to explain. I can see movement, obviously their heralds are bringing dead people..creatures...back, but it’s like a massive school of fish in a mad frenzy just beneath the surface of the water.”

Red made a sour face at that analogy, clearly it didn’t settle well.  “And they want us to go -in- there? Fuck..”

Taric gave Red a helpless look and shrugged, “Who’s better equipped to at least try?”

“They aren’t paying us nearly enough for this bullshit.  Not that it’ll matter anymore when we get stuck there and die.”  Red, always the optimist.  He was going to go, of course, but he was allowed to bitch about it.

Taric wasn’t going to argue that point. He was well aware of the dangers, but the world wouldn’t be able to keep up with these constant attacks for much longer and something had to be done. They had others with them, some Spiritwalkers and those that had been given the ‘gift’ or the ‘vision’. As one would expect, none of them had ever dealt with a situation like this before. 

Taric picked up his rucksack and pulled it onto his back, tightening the straps.  The military had loaded them up with a bunch of equipment to use once close to the break in the sky, and then once on the ‘other side’ - should they make it that far. “We should go before we lose the light.”

Red was already strapping on his own rucksack in preparation of departure.  “I think having a death wish must run in the family too.”

Present Day

Ryland stared at the tear in the sky with a disdainful glare.  Last week was the last time he had spoken with his crewmate, and his crewmate’s...son?  Brother?  Nephew?  Who knows, Red and Taric didn’t really talk about their familial connection and no one asked, but the obvious was assumed. The military gave them little information, as was expected.  Hopefully the two were at least in contact with them since they didn’t appear to be in contact with anyone else. 

Or they were dead. There was at least one way he could try to find out. The accuracy would be questionable given the circumstances, but knowing something was always better than knowing nothing.

He picked up Red’s cigarette case that had been left behind, turning it over in his hand before popping it open to help himself to one of Felon’s hand-rolled beauties. A simple touch to the end of the smoke sparked the cherry to life before inhaling deeply. His exhale was slow and steady, holding the cigarette out in front of his face to watch the thin stream of smoke rise. At the same time, his thumb rubbed the filigree design of the cigarette case; mind focused on a single question while his clouded gaze scrutinized the smoke patterns trailing upwards.

He wasn’t for certain how long he had been sitting there; by the time he snapped back to reality, the cigarette had burnt away just shy of his fingertips. He dropped what was left of the smoke and fished out his comm device from his pocket, typing out a message to Felonous:

‘They’re still alive.’

Day 23 - Friendship/Storm @daily-writing-challenge​

It had now been eight years since he got thrown from the Lady Lillium during that massive storm.  Eight years since everyone assumed him dead for a month.  Eight years since his friend and crewmate, Benzi, lost his life.  Last year was the first time he returned to this location in Kun-Lai Summit.  He had come alone then, and drank the night away, at least until the dark clouds arrived.

This time was different; this time most of the crew accompanied him as a way to remember and celebrate.  ...But there was another reason too.  They all knew that soon enough their time would be swept away into the next war, or whatever was waiting for them.  Red knew something was going to happen. Something was very broken within the life cycle, and when one piece stopped working, eventually the rest would as well.  Given that whatever was happening was in the Shadowlands, the questions of the day were: ‘How will this affect us?’ and ‘Will we even be able to help?’

“Maybe Benzi will save us all.” Red mused with a slight smirk. “With Rashi, Selug, and Kados as well.”  Other members of the crew that had been lost since he joined.

“Are you kidding?  We all know Benzi has his face buried in a pile of blow, Rashi’s is buried in a pile of hookers, and Selug and Kados have theirs buried in each other.” Felonous commented from nearby.

There was a collective laugh from the rest of the crew. It felt nice to be able to joke about difficult subject matters; it meant that while not forgotten, it no longer hurt so much. Celebrated, instead of mourned. 

Red raised his bottle, “To fallen friends.  ...And to hookers and blow.”

“Friends, hookers, and blow!” The others cheered in (not so) unison.  

He rubbed the scar on his forehead from that fateful night before laying back and burrowing his feet into the warm sand. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that was telling him that this may be the last time, for a while, that they would be able to do this.

She thinks Callia is quite rude, the first impression she got of her was not great. What’s worse is she can tell why Xylaes would like her and be drawn to her, and that’s painful because Callia is her polar opposite. Whether fair or not, it’s clouded how Fiorenze thinks and feels about the other woman. There is absolutely jealousy there, and anger. Lots of anger. Fiorenze hates when she doesn’t get her way.

Paradise by the Dashboard Light - (I had to wait until I was older to understand what it meant as my mother explained it to me.)

All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You - (Another song my mother would tell me the story of as we listened.)

ALL OF THEM.

ahem.