Vivian woke up from another odd dream. Seriously, what's even happening with him? It's getting harder for hymn to make sense of things. Oh god is that a spider-?! ...Nope, just another shadow. They really need their eyes checked. Luckily, it's sunday. He has time enough to spend some time alone. Well, not quite.
As they shrink down into hys own head, he took on a new form. His morality. Traversing through the mindscape, he knew where most of them would be. The house of memories. The only issue was getting there, especially on foot. It's tiring each step they take, as hy's not truly pulling the strings. Strange, he's in their own head! How? It's hard to say.
"Watch your next ste-!!"
..And immediatley bumping into someone, grinding their pace to a screeching halt.
The person brushes himself off.
"Geez, watch where you're going next time, Morality."
Great, not only bumping into someone, but it's their common sense; Onse. Or Cosmo, whatever he prefers at the moment.
"Sorry, sorry...This place is still odd, especially since the shatter.. Where are you going anyways, Cos?"
"Don't call me that. But I'm still trying to look for Count."
Who the hell is Count?! Even more people in this mindscape Viv isn't aware of!? Trying to keep their composure, he asks another question.
"Sorry, um, still dealing with people and names...Who is Count again?"
Cosmo's eyebrows raise slightly.
"You don't remember? Well, no one even knows how you formed, so I guess that makes sense. She's our time and money manager. Well, she was. She's been missing for months. Since the second...incident."
It's November 2025. It's almost been a year. Is this why it's hard to get work done and not spend impulsively now? They've all adapted to it, but life's been a blur since. He left again. But everyone was able to handle it better this time, so it's not an incident. Maybe they've all gone numb. It doesn't matter. What matters is getting to the House of Memories.
Swiftly picking up his place again, he eventually arrives, almost collapsing at the door due to overexertion. Carefully making hys way up the stairs, they're met by a familiar face.
"Oh, Morality, perfect timing! I was just about to look for you-!"
Ethel. Nothing good ever comes from whatever she's up to at any given moment, but nothing better comes from denying, so Morality goes inside his room.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Dinah expertly maneuvered the trailer into the street and got them onto the highway. Her eyes flicked over at Roy in the passenger’s seat. “He’s happy for you.” Roy scoffed. “He is,” Dinah said firmly. “We both are. We weren’t sure you were going to come back… happy.”
“Yeah, it worked out,” Roy said. “Jason agreed to the cat and everything.”
chapter 3 babeyyy. and I’m so close to done on this fic that I think I can commit to an every-other-day posting schedule at this point.
Tropes and CWs: Hunter caretaker, language barrier, medical caretaking, swearing.
Mika chopped the roots as finely as he could, sweeping them into the mortar with a motion too clumsy to come off as practised. With Ari at his elbow and the events of the morning still fresh in his memory, his mind clung to each and every possible distraction sent his way. Even the repetitive monotony of grinding out the juices under the pestle did little to refocus him. “Ari, would you move back please?”
Ari’s lost expression might have been endearing if he hadn’t spent the last twenty minutes in Mika’s personal space. “Um… sorry?”
Mika realised he’d spoken through clenched teeth. He forced his jaw to relax. “Sit down,” he said, and pointed at the dinner table. Ari hesitated, then limped over to the chair and took a seat. Mika saw the little tensions melt away, the hidden effort of keeping himself upright. He sighed, wishing he’d told Ari to rest a little sooner. “Once we have the juices, I’ll add the wild garlic you picked earlier. It’s good for keeping things clean.”
The second stage of the process did not take long, and soon the poultice was ready. He set the mortar and pestle on the table, then pulled up a second chair for Ari to use as a footstool. Ari grimaced as he propped up his bad leg. Mika peeled back the fabric of his trousers, feeling the warmth of the inflamed wound under the bandage. “I hope this soothes it,” he said.
At least the bandage had been changed since he’d first applied one. Ari must have been tending to it privately. He hadn’t done too bad a job, either; the dressing had been wrapped and secured well. It was only when it came away that Mika saw the swelling and discolouration where the teeth of the trap had pierced. “Fuck, that doesn’t look good.” He prodded at the skin, which had an orange tinge to it. “Almost looks like…”
Ari smiled in sudden sheepishness. He tried to get up from the chair, then evidently remembered the naked wound and reconsidered. He pointed at the bed across the cabin. “Please?” he said.
“You want me to move you?”
“Uh.” Ari pantomimed an object about the size of his chest, then pointed to his back. “Uh… carry?”
Mika hesitated. “You want the bag?”
“Bag.” Ari seized onto the word as if in recollection. He nodded. “Dja.”
The tight space under the bed was a suffocating, squeezing press of mattress. Mika, considerably bigger than Ari, had to claw his way along the floorboards in order to reach the backpack. The sense of confinement was enough to send his heart racing, and even when he saw his goal the damn thing was wedged tight and refused to budge. He tried to draw his shoulders back, found himself wedged too, and swore. By the time he’d emerged most of his blood was in his face, and his body stung with scrapes and splinters. “Maybe don’t hide it there and expect me to retrieve it,” he grumbled, but they’d made a huge leap of progress. Ari beamed as he reached to take the bag.
“What do you even keep in there?”
Ari unfastened the bag, angling it towards himself as if he only trusted Mika with it when it was closed. He rummaged for a few moments, then drew out a small bottle and held it up to the light. “Iadost,” he said as though explaining.
“I don’t… wait a minute.” Mika took the bottle from Ari’s unprotesting fingers. “I think we used to have some of this in the first aid kit.” Something clicked into place as he looked back at Ari’s leg. “You were treating your wound with it.”
The bottle was almost empty. Mika opened it up, took a sniff and recoiled. He hurriedly screwed the top back on; the smell was unmistakeable, and not something he wanted seeping into the cabin walls. He must have been nose blind to not notice Ari was using this. “Save what’s left. I’ll stick to the poultice.”
Ari sat patiently as Mika applied the herbal concoction. The messy paste felt almost crude and barbaric compared to the neatly bottled iodine solution, but Ari seemed to appreciate it. He leaned against the back of the chair and breathed out as the poultice took away some of the sore heat. “Thank you,” he said.
“Thank you. Uh, for trusting me enough to help you.” Mika added a bandage to hold everything in place. “Especially after what happened earlier. I’m… not usually like that. Usually have it more together. But… uh, anyway. Let me know if that helps, or if it gets worse.”
Ari was silent for a moment, hugging the bag on his lap. Then he slowly disentangled himself and beckoned Mika forward. “Bag,” he said. “Uh… for… for? For Dakrii. From Katakast.”
Mika hadn’t been sure what to expect, and yet the contents still caught him by surprise. He reached out a hand without thinking, and Ari slapped it away. “No! No safe.”
“Not safe?” Mika peered into the bag, taking in the array of bottles. Other things had been positioned around them; vials of coloured liquid in a flexible see-through bag, a battered paper folder with a big crease across one corner, a book titled in more of that strange alphabet he could not decipher. He doubted he could even guess at the rest. “What do you have there? And why isn’t it safe?” And if it isn’t, why was it under my bed? “And why are you taking it to Dakrii?”
Ari sighed at the questioning. He almost looked as though he wanted to give answers, but the language barrier saw to that. “Katakast, no safe. Dakrii, safe. Uh, baby? Baby safe.”
Mika frowned, trying to remember if the word baby had ever arisen in their conversations up to this point. “You mean maybe? Maybe safe?”
“Maybe.” Ari shrugged. “Vabrastki…”
“This journey isn’t going to be safe, is it?” A horrible suspicion crossed Mika’s mind. “Katakast. Are they okay with…” He pointed at the backpack. “Katakast okay with this to Dakrii? Happy?”
Ari looked away.
“Ari, I need to know. Does someone want this back? Is anyone after you? Did you steal this like you tried to steal the maps?”
“Morast.” A tear trickled from the inner corner of Ari’s eye. He rubbed his fingers over the tattoo on his wrist.
“Okay, listen to me.” Mika squatted down so he was on Ari’s level, chasing eye contact. “Ari. I know you can’t explain what happened to you or what’s going on. And I’m not so naïve I can’t tell this is probably something bigger than me. I’ll help you. But…” He hesitated, trying to frame the words in a way Ari might understand, and gave up. “I don’t want to be doing something terrible in helping you, okay?”
“Okay,” Ari said, latching onto the last word. Mika stood up with a sigh. It was in their interests that they learned to communicate and quickly, before someone else with far worse intentions came stumbling through the forest.
Summary/AN: After leaving Peter at Stark Tower with no way to contact you, the two of you can't keep each other off your minds. However, fate (or Tony Stark) has it that you meet again on a boat heading towards Antarctica. Mostly just expositional plot for what's to come ;)
Also! Please leave messages/asks/let me know if I should start a taglist for this series!
Warnings: mentions of alcohol I guess, NO smut for once (sorry folks), finally some plot
Weeks had passed since the night of the party, yet you still couldn’t seem to get Peter out of your head. You tried your best to push him into a deep corner of your brain, but memories of that night kept tugging at the edge of your consciousness, slipping in when your concentration faded or when you found your mind otherwise unoccupied.
You constantly talked yourself out of thinking of him, explaining to yourself that he’s a full-time superhero and probably wouldn’t have the time or energy to see you again even if he wanted to. If he had wanted you to stay he could have asked, and you were sure he had access to technology to find you if he really wanted. So you resigned to constantly pushing him back into that corner of your brain, hoping that the memory of him would soon fizzle into nothing.
But then again, did you really want that? There was a reason you had replayed that night over and over in your head, remembering the way he grabbed your hand, the way his eyes crinkled shut when he laughed, the way his eyes rolled back when he… Push it down, stop idealizing, and move on with your life y/n, you thought.
Keeping yourself busy at work helped. Constantly helping prep for upcoming trips and programs, paperwork and maps to sort, gear to be ordered. You hadn’t been promoted per se, but you had definitely started taking on some more responsibility.
“Knock knock,” your boss Stephen strolls into the back room where you found yourself surrounded by endless papers, “got a minute?”
“For you? Not sure…,” you joke with him, swiveling around in your chair to give him your full attention. He was a good boss, treating everyone like equals rather than subordinates, and he had a sarcastic sense of humor, appreciating that you could dish it right back.
“I’ve got some mail for you, and something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he sits down on the desk across from you.
“Shoot,” you gesture towards him, taking the short but thick stack of mail rubber-banded together from him.
“Well, we have been in contact with our partners over at Stark Industries,” he starts, “and in our last debrief with Mr. Stark he mentioned that there’s some room in the budget for another guide for the Antarctica trip. Now, nothing against you or your ability, but I did suggest Scott or Matt to join the team, but he explained that he had met you at the party and was impressed with you. He also said something about wanting a smaller climber on the team, said there might be some tight squeezes and having you might be an asset. I told him that I had no doubt in your ability if he really wanted to hire you for the team, so, it's up to you but the plane ticket and all the paperwork is right there.”
You sat there a little dumbfounded, not yet processing what your boss had just clearly explained. Feeling like an idiot with your mouth open like a flytrap you swivel back around and put all the paperwork into your desk.
“Umm, yeah, wow,” you look back at him, “you’re sure that you don’t want to tell him to take someone else? Someone more experienced? I’m not really sure if I deserve this.”
“I don’t know kid, he was pretty adamant about you coming. I would take the opportunity and run with it if I were you. It will be great experience for someone as young as you, and even though you probably wouldn’t have been the company’s first choice I trust in your ability, you are a good worker and an even better climber.”
You had never had a conversation this honest with Stephen, who was kind of like an older brother figure to you. Ever since moving far away from home he had kept an eye out for you both at work and in your personal life.
“Shit, yeah I guess I can’t really say no,” you say, bringing your hand to your forehead, trying to help this all sink in.
“Don’t act too excited,” he rolls his eyes at you and leaves you to your work.
“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, “what the fuck.”
You sat there in disbelief, sifting through the stack of plane tickets, boarding passes, and travel information you had just been given. When the concept of traveling to Antarctica to climb mountains and getting paid for it started to hit you, an even bigger train slammed right into your stomach, Peter.
Fuck, you certainly couldn’t keep pushing thoughts of him away if you were going to have to see him every day for three months. But you couldn’t see him like that, he was going to be at work, doing Avenger things, superhero things, not you things.
You convinced yourself that you probably wouldn’t even have to see him that much, you would probably be in two totally different places doing two totally different things. Is that what you wanted? Maybe? No. Definitely no. But this was work and you were just going to treat it like you would any other job. Hopefully.
At Stark Tower
“I don’t know!!!” Peter groans as he flips his grilled cheese, “I’m just bad at stuff like that!”
“Dude,” Sam replies from across the kitchen, “it’s not hard. She definitely really liked you.”
“Yeah, we could all hear how much she really liked you that night…” Bucky teases.
“But, like, what if she didn’t even want to give me her number though? Like what if she wanted it to be just like a one-time thing? She totally could have left it if she wanted to.”
“You can't expect her to do all the work though, kid,” Sam tries to reason with Peter, “you have to show her you are interested, vocalize things, ask, don’t assume.”
“You know what happens when you assume,” Bucky retorts, unable to hide the snark in his voice.
“Yeah, yeah, an ass out of you and me, fuck off, I didn’t ask you metalman,” Peter was trying to keep up with the constant back and forth of insults and high context between Sam and Bucky that they also fired at everyone around them.
“Ughhhh, I just liked her so much! And I never get the chance to meet girls, and she just like, fell into my lap, and then poof,” Peter raises his hands to his face in exasperation, hoping that getting this off his chest would help the heavy feeling that had been lurking there ever since he woke up to find you gone from his bed.
“I don’t know what else to tell you kid,” Sam tries to be empathetic without ragging on the kid too hard, “you could just ask Stark to track her down.”
“That’s so creepy though, I don’t want her to think I’m a creep,” Peter pouts, now eating his burnt grilled cheese.
Natasha enters the kitchen, filling up a bottle of water and leaning back onto the counter.
“What’s he moping about now?” she asks Sam.
“He’s pissed that he scared off that nice girl from the party.”
“I did not-,” Peter starts, but then flops his head down to the counter, pressing his cheek against the cold marble.
“Aw, sweetie, she didn’t leave her number?” Natasha asks, with some genuine concern, but also playing Sam and Bucky’s game of tormenting you.
“No,” he grumbles, not lifting his head from the counter.
“Maybe she just wanted to wait to see you again until the trip, I’m sure she’s really busy just like you are,” Nat says, now with only comfort in her voice.
“She’s not coming, she just got an invite to the party, but she’s not coming,” Peter responds, finally peeling his cheek from the counter.
“Not sure what she told you, but her name is on the roster of tickets. We sent over three packets of travel info to the mountain guide company, one with her name on it just the other day,” she says to a much more attentive Peter, who knew Nat has much more inside intel than he does around here.
“Don’t fuck with me,” Peter says with an annoyed look on his face, “you’re just as bad as them now.” He gestures to Sam and Bucky who were still snickering at him, laughing at his misery.
“Go talk to Stark if you don’t believe me, I’m sure he would looove to hear all about your girl problems.”
Peter was used to taking jabs, being the youngest and most gullible, but he didn’t think Nat would mess with him like this. Bucky or Sam? Definitely. But Nat? She had a soft spot for him.
Peter had been genuinely upset that you decided to slip away that night. He worried that he did or said something wrong, maybe he shouldn’t have been so forward. Or maybe he should have been more forward? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he felt like an idiot and he worried that everything Bucky and Sam said was true, that he had scared you off.
Now he was grappling with this new information, the idea of seeing you again on the mission. What if you didn’t want to see him? He didn’t want to throw himself at you and look desperate, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you and how your hair felt tangled in his hands, how his name sounded coming from your lips.
Later that afternoon Peter found himself pacing outside of the lab, debating whether to ask Tony about you, to ask if what Nat had told him was true. He didn’t want this to be a big joke, but he also had to know, the question had been burning his brain.
“Hey Mr. Stark, sorry to bother you, I was just-”
“Yes Peter, she’s coming, I sent over an extra ticket.”
“Really? I-”
“Nat told me you would be bugging me about this. I believe the words you’re looking for are Thank You.”
“Umm, thank you? Thank you.”
“I met her after she was leaving your room after the party, she seems like a good kid. I wanted another climber, someone small to squeeze through tight spaces. Plus, having a pretty girl around will keep you out of my hair. Now shoo.”
Tony tried to stay stern with Peter, constantly wanting to teach him lessons, but he also wanted to make the kid happy. With all the hard work Peter had been putting in the past few months, he deserved to have a little fun, to enjoy something for once. Tony knew what it was like to get too concentrated on work, the toll being an Avenger could take, and Peter was too young to feel like that all the time.
Shuffling out of the room with a string of mumbled “thank yous” Peter rushed back to his room at the compound, flopping back onto his bed. He didn’t know how to feel, but he knew he was excited and nervous to see you again.
You peer across the rows of seats on the plane, searching for a familiar face. A specific familiar face. You assumed that everyone on the mission would be flying together, but your business class tickets suggested otherwise. Stephen was scheduled to fly with Stark and the Avengers, to manage the loading and transportation of all the gear. You and Eric, the other guide, flew commercial to Argentina and would meet up with everyone at the site of the boat you would be taking down to Antarctica.
It was an eleven-hour flight and you were quick to grow restless. In-flight movies and complimentary snacks couldn’t quiet your buzzing nerves. You needed to figure out a way to occupy your brain for the flight, because thinking about Peter for eleven hours didn’t seem healthy.
You did spend about three of those hours trying to think of what you would say to him if or when you saw him. Should you apologize? Play it cool? Run into his arms? Definitely not that last one. It was probably best to keep everything professional, treat him like you would anyone else.
After an in-flight G and T you managed to doze off for the next few hours of the flight, drooling onto the pull-out tray. Eric shakes you awake, mocking your open-mouthed sleeping face, telling you it’s time to buckle up and get ready to land.
You nervously start to rub the skin on the inside of your thumb, a bad habit that sometimes left you with raw and puffy skin. An outsider may have guessed that you were afraid of flying, but it was quite the opposite, you were afraid of landing.
A private car picks you up and drives a short distance to the waterfront. It’s a private dock specifically for boats traveling long distances. You had never spent more than a few hours on a boat, and certainly never one this big. You were quickly ushered onto the top deck and then down into what looked like a conference room.
It appeared that you two were the last to arrive, and the boat would be departing soon. Quietly placing your bags in a corner and finding a place to stand, you direct your attention to Mr. Stark who stood at the front of the room, naturally.
“I’m sure you all want to get to your bunks, it’s been a long day of travel for everyone. I just wanted to relay some basic info from the captains before giving you all your room keys. This trip can take anywhere between 10 days and 3 weeks, all depending on the weather. There is an intercom so you know you’ll be hearing from me if we all need to congregate again, but otherwise, I suggest we take this time to prepare for the mission and rest up. Thanks , everyone.”
There was a lot of shuffling around and you constantly felt like you were in someone’s way. Eric, Stephen, and yourself step aside into the hallway to debrief quickly on the transportation of the gear. Everything had gone as planned and you decided to meet back up in the morning.
“Your room is down the stairs, third door on the right,” Tony says to you in passing, “should be unlocked.”
Taking two trips down to carry your belongings, you find the door to your room cracked open.
“Hello?” you sense a presence already in the room.
“Oh, hey, sorry, I was just-,” Peter steps out of the bathroom that’s connected to your small room, containing two small beds and a desk.
Your eyes grow wide, not expecting to see him so soon. The three hours of Peter-prep you had done on the plane suddenly vanished from your brain. You stand there, bags still in your grip.
“Mr. Stark says that you and I are “young and spry” and that we don’t count as full adult people so we have to share a room,” Peter says quickly and nervously, using air quotes, “but I can totally go ask someone to switch, or I think there is a couch somewhere if-”
“No,” you cut him off, meeting his eyes for the first time, “don’t worry about it, this is okay with me if it’s okay with you.”
“I’m sorry if this is weird,” Peter says, surprisingly honest.
“It doesn’t have to be,” you say, finally placing your bags down. Okay, so you guess you are deciding to play it cool, “We can just…start over?”
“Yes. Yes ok, Um, my name is Peter Parker and I’m Spiderman,” he says, semi-jokingly, extending his hand to you.
“And my name is Helga and I am an assassin sent here to take you out,” you make finger guns at him and attempt a bad German accent, causing you both to giggle.
Your lame attempt at humor had somehow brought the two of you right back to the way you had been that night three months ago. It felt easy and comfortable, but you had to force yourself not to stare at him as he started unpacking his clothes, not to notice the way his arms looked in that white t-shirt…
“I honestly think this is some kind of weird test that Mr. Stark is putting me through,” Peter turns to you, offering to help you with your bags.
“He told me about how he drove you home after the party, after-” Peter cut himself short, “anyways, I’m glad you’re here, but I just can't help but think that Stark has some sort of sneaky ulterior motive.”
“Damn, paranoid much?” you try to ease the tension, “Maybe he just learned that I’m the best goddamn ice climber east of the Mississippi and he wanted to hire me for my tremendous skill.”
“Are you really?”
“No,” you laugh, “he probably does have an ulterior motive though, and this is totally a test. We are actually plotting together against you.”
His eyes grow wide for a second before realizing you are messing with him. He playfully hits your arm with his pillow.
“Don’t do that! Everyone here is always fucking with me, I don’t need another bully!” he says with a laugh, hitting you with his pillow again.
“Sorry, I’ll be nice I promise,” you dramatically bat your eyelashes at him, deciding that if you couldn’t fuck him you’d just have to resort to constant humor.
“But I’m serious, I think we should just be friends on this trip, co-workers,” you let off your chest, as much as you wanted to attack his mouth with yours, you didn’t want to jeopardize any part of this trip, any part of your job. Even though it was going to be fucking difficult sharing a room with him.
“Yeah, yeah, professionals,” Peter nods, a noticeable disappointment flashed across his face though.
“It’s just that…I’m getting paid to be here, and this boat isn’t huge, and I just wouldn’t want my boss, or your boss to think-”
“Yeah, no, I totally understand. I totally get you. 100% Couldn’t agree more.”
He talks a lot when he’s nervous, and he always tries to find something to do with his hands, tug at the hem of his shirt or fix the bedsheets that were already perfectly made. A quiet settles around the two of you, a dead air making the awkwardness more and more apparent with every passing second.
You both get your things settled in, unsure of who was going to say something first. You flop back on the bed, genuinely exhausted from the day.
“Hey y/n?” Peter says, also laying flat on his back on the bed parallel to yours.
“Yeah?”
“I really am glad you’re here though.”
You close your eyes as a big smile spreads across your cheeks. This was going to be a long fucking trip.
Schneizel: Sorry to call for you right after you came back to the country, Lord Kururugi. You can stand at ease. Today I have to tell you about two thing. Firstly, these two.
Schneizel: Shunee Heksen and Redo Ofen. I want you to use them as your personal knights.
Shunee: I'm Shunee Heksen
Redo: I'm Redo Ofen
Schneizel: These two, they are young but I'm sure they are able to do their job.
Suzaku: Someone to have an eye on me...?
Schneizel: They are your bodyguards, you can call them whatever you want.
Suzaku: Yes, your highness
Schneizel: So let's move on to the second thing
Schneizel: I want you to fly with me to Belarus
Shunee: Belarus...
Suzaku: Some time ago general Gin Smails died on the Europia front.
Redo : He was the person who changed their policy to do-or-die resistance towards Britannia, so after his death internal conflict broke out in the army of Europia Republic. It's because they were opportunists, to begin with.
Schneizel: It's good I don't have to explain the situation to you.
Right now their force is divided into two faction - those who want to continue the do-or-die resistance as it's the last will of general Smails and those who thinks the best option is to start the negotiation for peace treaty as soon as possible. If we beat the former, negotiation should go on smoothly.
Schneizel: And this is why Belarus... Kanon?
Kanon: Yes.
Schneizel: The Sixth Army Group in Belarus is gathering all of its resources right next to the country border, on meadows. If we beat them, Belarus will fall into our hands. But of course, they call it do-or-die resistance and are ready to die a honorable death so expect it to be quite a tough task.
Schneizel: They are using the deep operation strategy and are quite persistent. We are lacking the trump card. That's why we decided to use the Knight of Rounds, so that means you as well, Lord Kururugi.
Suzaku: Yes you highness!
Suzaku: It's the first mission of Konoe Knights (Konoe means Imperial guards so the Imperial guards Knights). Undertake this challenge with caution
Shunee: Konoe Knights?
Suzaku: ...That's how I'm going to call you.
― Belarus front ―
Shunee: ―What do you think about Suzaku Kururugi?
Shunee:Is it really okay for us to serve under him? He's Eleven!
Redo: Yes, he is. But he is really strong. You saw it right? The battle at the appointment ceremony? ...Did someone tell you something...?
Shunee: Someone! My parents, other relatives! They all say the same thing, that serving under Number is an embarrassment for the entire family!
Redo: Well, if that's a problem... My family are commoners.
Shunee: But you are Britannian...!
Redo: Yes, but I know that everyone around me is spreading rumors. "How he managed to get the promotion?" "Even though he's just a commoner!”
Shunee: No, I mean... I know that some may say things like that but...
Redo: I just let them say whatever they want. Those saying things like are just bunch of powerless no-ones.
Shunee: ...No, I didn't mean it like that!
Shunee: I know that you…!
Redo: I know,
…Shunee doesn’t treat me like a noble would treat a commoner and I don’t think he is so skillful to be able to only pretend he doesn’t.
Redo: I wonder how it’s possible that in Britannia the pay-for-performance system and aristocracy are able to co-exist even though they don’t really fit together well.
Sure, Britannia has the pay-for-performance system. But was he appointed to be the Knight of Rounds only because of his abilities? Did his strength defeated even the aristocracy of this country? Is he really that strong? Kururugi Suzaku…
Suzaku: In a few seconds we will come out of this forest.
Schneizel: Roger that, Lord Kururugi. You can choose when to start.
Suzaku: Yes your highness.
Shunee: As expected… He just broke through the enemy’s line and now I can’t even see him from here. Don’t be late! Go after him!
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Keahi always woke up early. She never knew why, but she enjoyed it because it always let her get the most out of each day. She yawned, stretched, and fluffed out her feathers before finally standing up. Glancing out the window, she could see that she had missed the sunrise, but not by too much. She turned to look down at her friend Nelvana; the quirky and anxious and strong cubone. Keahi smiled, remembering that they had decided to form a rescue team together. It was honestly still hard to believe; Nel had agreed to join a rescue team with someone she didn’t know terribly well. And despite only meeting the day before, Keahi really liked being friends with Nelvana. She had a good feeling about the cubone.
Pulling herself out of her thoughts, Keahi decided to actually go do something. It was still too early for anyone to be making breakfast yet; however, if she was quick, she could go get those papers before Nelvana woke up. Her plans for not bothering her friend’s rest were ruined as the second she took a step, the cubone stirred and sat up.
“Oh sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Keahi whispered, avoiding Nelvana’s gaze a bit.
“It’s alright. I was kinda half-awake anyway,” Nelvana yawned.
“Did you sleep well at least?” Keahi asked.
“Mostly.” Nelvana stretched, unintentionally showing off her double-jointedness.
“Well… I was just going to try and get the application forms again,” Keahi informed the cubone.
“Can I come with you this time?” Nelvana asked, already standing up.
“Sure,” Keahi agreed and started walking to the tunnels.
They headed out through the winding tunnels again. Nelvana was beginning to memorize some of the paths, like the one that lead to the kitchen and the one that lead to outside. Regardless, it wasn’t enough to be able to go about through the cavern on her own and was continuously thankful for Keahi’s guidance. Eventually, they found Keahi’s father, who was reading a newspaper.
“Good morning dad!” Keahi greeted, the Blaziken turned to look over at her.
“Ah! Good morning Keahi and Nelvana. How did you two sleep?” he asked.
“Pretty good,” Keahi told him, “actually, we wanted to ask you something.”
“Shoot.” Blaziken folded up his newspaper, which Nelvana had been eyeing, to put his full attention on the pair.
“We want to form a rescue team together, and we were wondering if you still had some application forms laying about...?” Keahi asked, shifting her weight nervously.
“You wanted to form a rescue team?!” Blaziken squawked in shock, and the scent of lightly burning papers filled the air.
“Yeah. You’re… not mad about it, right?” Keahi said.
Keahi’s dad put the newspaper, now scorched at the edges, down on the ground beside him and let out a dry chuckle.
“No, of course not. I was just… surprised,” he told them.
“You’re not going to stop us or anything, right?” Nelvana asked warily.
Blaziken shook his head, “no. As much as I’d like to keep you two safe in here instead of exploring out there, something tells me that whether I try to stop you or not, you’ll do it anyway. So, I’d prefer to support you instead of being an overbearing parent. I’ll get the forms,” he explained before getting up and leaving.
Upon her father’s exit, Keahi released a sigh of relief.
“I was honestly pretty worried he’d try and stop us… hehe…” she admitted, “he can be pretty overprotective sometimes.”
“So, I noticed,” Nelvana commented, glancing at the newspaper again, “that’s a newspaper, right?”
“Yup,” Keahi replied, not bothering to question why Nelvana had to ask anymore.
“Cool,” Nelvana hummed.
Blaziken returned a few minutes later holding some papers and a bottle of ink and gave them to the pair.
“So, just fill those out and you can deliver them to the Pelipper Post Office. They know where to take it,” he told them, “er, I’m guessing you don’t plan on making here your team base…”
“Nah, there’s a house for sale nearby town. It’ll be most efficient than here,” Keahi replied.
“Can you even afford it?” Blaziken asked.
“Yup! You know I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time! Of course I’ve saved up,” she said.
Blaziken sighed, but a small smile was ever-present on his face, “of course you have… well, I guess I’ll leave you to it. Make sure to say goodbye and grab some breakfast before you head out.”
“Okay!” Keahi chirped, “thanks dad,” she added.
“No problem,” he replied and then left.
“Alright then! Let’s get started!” Keahi exclaimed, her excitement building up again.
They laid out all the papers, of which there were only three. One for general team information, such as a team name, and the other two for individual team member information. Nelvana set down the ink bottle to the left of the papers.
“No pencil?” she asked.
“No… sorry if that’s what you prefer. Using a quill and ink is easier for us since we have an infinite supply of quills,” Keahi explained, “speaking of which…”
Keahi pulled out a moulted feather with her beak and handed it to Nelvana, who hesitantly accepted.
“You’ll have to write, since I can’t,” the torchic reminded the cubone.
“I know…” Nelvana replied and dipped the feather in the ink bottle. “What should we start with?”
“Hm… the general stuff, it’s the easiest,” Keahi answered, “it only needs the team name and the names of all the current members, which is us.”
“Okay, do you have an idea for a team name?” Nelvana asked.
“Yup! Team Galaxy!” Keahi chirped, “do you like it? We can change it if not…”
“No no, I like it,” Nelvana replied and began writing it down.
“Woah woah woah! What language are you writing in?” the torchic exclaimed in a flurry.
Nelvana looked at her writing, which looked perfectly fine and readable to her, and then at the text already written down. She realized that the letters she had been writing were in fact different from the ones on the paper. The same language, just completely different letters. Taking a moment to compare the two different texts, she crossed out her writing and tried writing with the other letters.
“There we go,” Keahi sighed, “what was that language you were writing in?”
“I don’t know…” Nelvana lied.
She wrote down their names, after double-checking how to spell Keahi’s, and then they moved on the personal forms.
“I think we should do mine first, you have amnesia after all. Maybe filling mine out first will help refresh your memory a bit?” Keahi suggested.
Nelvana agreed, and filled out the blank for ‘name’, and then ‘torchic’ for ‘species’. The next blank was for ‘sex’. Keahi let out a sigh.
“No gender option…” she murmured, “Put in ‘female’.”
The cubone obliged, and was about to move on to the next blank when Keahi spoke up again.
“Actually, could you put ‘genderfluid’ in brackets?”
“You’re genderfluid?” Nelvana asked.
“Yeah. I was born female, but I change my gender identity as I see fit,” Keahi explained.
“I know what being genderfluid means,” Nelvana chuckled and wrote it down. “So… what pronouns are you using right now?”
“Well, I’ve been using female pronouns for over a week now, but I don’t really feel like a girl anymore… but I’m not sure what I identify as right now. Just use gender-neutral pronouns for now to be safe, okay?” Keahi told her friend.
“That’s they, them, right?” Nelvana asked.
“Well… yes, but I also like using zie, zim. It’s your choice on which you use, just make sure it’s one or the other,” Keahi said, “oh wait! I nearly forgot, what are your pronouns?”
“She, her.” Nelvana answered courtly.
The rest of the form was simple, asking questions like if the pokemon had experience in dungeons, how old they are, etc. It didn’t take terribly long to complete Keahi’s form, and they only got stumped a couple times with Nelvana’s form, for which they took an educated guess on her past. They folded up the papers and put them in an envelope.
“We did it! I’m so excited!” Keahi chirped, pacing around as Nelvana wrote on the envelope.
Nelvana giggled and waved the envelope for Keahi to see.
“It’s ready!” she hummed.
Keahi looked it over, “Great! This means we can go deliver it to the Pelipper Post Office!” zie stood up and started leaving, and Nelvana quickly followed, “We have to stop and say goodbye to my parents first,” zie remined zir friend.
“Of course,” Nelvana agreed.
It didn’t take them too long to discover that both blaziken were chatting in the kitchen. About what, they didn’t take the time to listen in and find out.
Keahi’s mother was the first to properly react. She bent down and scooped her child up in her arms for a hug.
“Oh Keahi, I’m so proud of you. You’ve grown up so fast, and I know you two will make an amazing rescue team,” the blaziken gushed.
“Thanks mom,” Keahi replied, unsure what to say after such a loving speech.
“And,” she continued, “remember that we love you, and you are always welcome back here. Both of you.”
Nelvana flinched in surprise at her sudden inclusion, but smiled and nodded after collecting herself again.
Now it was Keahi’s father’s turn to speak, “well, I doubt there’s much to say that hasn’t already been said,” he chuckled, “so I’ll just say this; I know that you two will do great, and remember that we will always support you throughout your journey.”
“Thanks dad,” Keahi repeated, a wide smile on zir face.
“Thanks, Blaziken and, uh, Blaziken,” Nelvana said, feeling the need to speak up as well.
“Also, if you need any advice, your ol’ pops has some experience to back him up,” he added, “now, will you two head out right away, or do you want some breakfast?”
“I… I think we should head out,” Keahi answered reluctantly. “We don’t want the others crowding us as we leave.”
“Of course. Well, good luck!” Keahi’s mom said, “goodbye!”
