#tiderider

mcu memes / @tiderider

this is, by far and large, the strangest meeting khione goossens has ever been a part of.

she understands why harry is here: he is uma's right-hand man, the captain of the jolly roger, and now owns the properties his father once had a hand - or a hook - in.

and she supposes she sort of understands why fay goodwin - fairy godmother herself - is here, too: she's here because king ben is currently stuck in agrabah, unable to leave. vicious sandstorms, or so khione has heard.

she, too, is something akin to a liaison. she's here because will stronghold couldn't make it.

"before we begin," fay says primly, "i would like to extend my most sincere condolences and my comfort for your loss, khione. jetstream, i mean, josephine demarco-stronghold... was a remarkable woman, a great mother and a hero."

it's almost blasphemous to say but: "thank you, josie was more of a mother to me than my own, so i feel her loss keenly."

the conversation moves on, then, to more solemn business. to a threat to the peace they have painstakingly built with their own hands, according to fairy godmother. khione thinks she hears harry muffle a snort but she's unsure.

(she does catch his eye-roll, though. subtle as it is.)

either way, fairy godmother explains that magica de spell is coming for them all. that she has been biding her time, that she has learned from maleficent's failures, from uma's triumphs, and even from audrey.

"so how do we fight this?" khione asks, brown doe eyes flickering towards harry for but one moment in solidarity.

"we can't," says fairy godmother, eyes narrowing, "not outright. as much as it pains me to say: this isn't a simple case of bippety boppity boo."

there had to have been a gentle way to put this, khione thinks, without hurting anyone or shattering their sensibilities like ice. and maybe harry can read minds, or hearts, because he cuts to the heart of it all with only his gaze and the sudden realization cuts just as deep: there was no gentle way to put this without hurting anyone or shattering their sensibilities like ice.

not this time.

"which is why we're going to partner with multiple people that are the very best in their fields---" and so when fay goodwin lays out the plan - there's lots of moving parts and even more names, ranging from hercules himself to li shang - khione finds herself nodding along and taking notes, until the final name. "---like professor medulla."

immediately, khione blanches. thinks back on all the remedial lessons she's had, and remembers only that she'd wanted to bash her face against the wall until her brain turned to mush.

"does it have to be him?"

"do we have anybody else?"

fair point.

"i think i need some air," is what khione mutters, more so to herself than anyone else, and she thinks that if her parents were here, they'd be appalled at how she's handling it. (which is why she's glad they're not, in fact, here but in the northern wei for their respective jobs.) she stands, huffing out a breath, and all but flees the makeshift boardroom.

"you can say it," khione says after harry finds her - not even ten minutes later - sitting at the edge of the fountain in front of auradon prep, "this is a terrible idea and miss bippety boppity is deranged." jane's mother, khione is lightning-quick to clarify, not jane herself.

jane seems... perfectly nice, if a bit bowled over by life sometimes. but then again, who isn't?

"she made a different call," harry says simply and khione shrugs: "she sure did." for a moment, the resident ice wielder is quiet. then there's another shrug. another sigh. "it's just---" khione starts, absentmindedly moving her fingers; one, then two, and then three small rotating rings of water raise upwards. "---i've been trained and my team has been trained and i know that you know how to defend yourself. as do your people. but not everyone does. and the people that do not have the experience necessary to survive the coming onslaught far outweigh the ones who do."

she's sure that she doesn't have to give voice to the thoughts swirling around in her head: isn't this too ambitious a plan? do they have that kind of time? can they turn a bunch of young adults into a full-fledged squad of warriors? can they turn a bunch of kids into a well-functioning army?

her fingers are freezing.

"i worry." that's all. "and not just about medulla's upcoming telepathy lessons."

@tiderider & @loetise || plotted starter!

  The phone rattled against his ribs, startling him out of his uneasy dozing directly into a flinch. The message waiting for him on the other side of his pin code was brief. A missive that said little more than 'come here' and where to go. Henry, of course, put his feet to the ground and went.

  Ship to ship, Tempest to Roger, was a journey by foot of around fifteen minutes, with no real shortcuts available at the moment. And thank luck for it being that low, as it proved plenty of time for him to think this is taking too long anyhow. More than enough time for him to pick up a sense of foreboding he could not quite place the source of. It went with him all the way up the gangway onto a silent ship, and that only made things worse. He did not doubt that the crew were around in come capacity, keeping watch over the wharf, but they had made themselves so scarce Henry didn't see so much as a stray coattail. Still, he felt eyes. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  Henry announced himself with a quick cursory knock as he entered. His eyes drew instantly to Allie. Curled into the bunk, she looked small, colorless and frail as a dry leaf on the side of the road. Harry hovered nearby. Henry could feel the tension of him from across the room. Neither of them looked injured - that was, Henry saw no suggestion things had gotten very physical. They did look exhausted, and miserable, the both of them. Allie seemed to be asleep, so for the moment Henry's attention pooled—

@tiderider || liked x

  He was a curious thing, this boy her boy so loved. He was handsome, surely, and charming when he wanted to be. But it was altogether a sharp sort of a handsome, and a dangerous kind of charming. Looking straight at him now, Hetty was not sure which parts of it came natural and which were the ways he'd learned, and she did not know why he was at her doorstep, but one thing was certain:

𝐌𝐘  𝐀𝐑𝐓:  post-work  out  flex .

Can  you  believe  our  favs  are  technically  just  a  bunch  of  goth-jocks?  This  started  out  as  me  wanting  to  draw  Gil  in  the  Icarus  pose  and  it  morphed  into  deciding  that  neither  Uma  or  Harry  would  leave  Gil  to  flex  alone.  Papi,  we  survived  another  year,  things  can  be  tough  and  a  struggle,  but  I’m  so  happy  to  call  you  a  close  friend  and  you’re  one  of  the  greatest  things  this  hobby  has  ever  given  me.  Happy  New  Years!

@gggno        |        @tiderider​