A Randy POV writing that I did to try and get a picture of NV. Scrapped it for the main draft, but wanted to share.
PROLOGUE:
Word on the street as long as I've known them has been that the Norrisville's ninja's a grand and respected icon in the city.
The protector clad in black and red robes; running on rooftops and swinging around to fight monsters; all so you can get home safe at the end of the day. With his arsenal of ninja weapons, smoke bombs, and crimson scarf billowing in the wind, he makes it look so easy!
Or I try to make it look easy ever since I got the mask. Sure, the fighting is hard, and the staying alive part too— but do you know what part takes the most from a guy?
The people skills.
Bet you didn't know fighting bad guys had a lot in common with a retail job!
The same taxing amount of patience, stressful split second decisions, and dealing with happy and unhappy monsters— I mean customers; the similarities are uncanny! Funny thing is: it's my favorite part of the job.
Working with all these people and getting to know them makes the job all worth it. Even when the situation at hand is rough, I believe we can get through it together— if everyone in this crazy town actually agrees to work together. Though that difficult mission usually lies in my day job's jurisdiction— but more on that later.
Norrisville is home, but it sure does know how to keep you on your toes. The posters on the walls love to exclusively advertise the picture of a bustling little city nestled in the valley between beautiful mountain ranges and a dense forest, equipped with lots of local businesses for you to peruse.
With my best salesman's voice, I'd shout,"If you like a drink, McFist's Brewery offers tours and tastings via appointment; or if you're a foodie, Dempsey's Diner or McClucks offers great service at a fair price! Looking for something activity wise? We have a concert hall in the northeast part of town, or the splendor of our beautiful main street!
"Hell if you're looking for all three and more— there's always the Game Pit! A bar with a more limited food menu but has various kinds of entertainment! Including both the gambling sort of activities as well as not, and live music every night while you play, drink, and eat! We got lots of fun stuff!" Those lines are true, just not all our fair city has to offer.
Yeah, just like all the people in charge, I'd wave off the unseemly parts of life here.
Like the killer trees on the Northern Border; shady politicians that seem to be taking over the upper social scene; a wealthy and influential, yet rarely seen, family that practically runs half the town (with almost zero public records of how they got to that point, mind you) and a dense forest to the west and south that's dark, foggy, and apparently very haunted.
They try to sell those parts as part of our charm, yet hate to talk about the eight mystical gates on the Southern Range. Funnily enough, those gates are the harmless parts. Well, the least harmful anyways.
Of course, beings called yokai live through those gates. There's different kinds of them, but you know they're nice and normal when they're in their home realms. Only weird thing happens when they cross over to our town: they go berserk. They seem almost possessed, lost; and my friends and I help herd them back home so they can get back safely. We can't always save all of them… sometime's the Royal Guard or Antfee Security goons get there before us. They don't care about these guys as they truly are— just see them as an eyesore. In those cases…we at least bring their bodies back to their home realm. Give them a proper burial and all.
They make the public fear the yokai from the eight gates, but if anything, I'd worry about the gate we can't see.
That ninth gate, the only one I don't know the location of, is the one that spawns these giant, feral rats that are…barely alive.
They give me the major creeps— they don't bleed, don't communicate, not even to each other, and if we deal enough damage to them? They turn into a green mist that smells incredibly rank, and dissipates into the sky! They cause loads of property damage, and lots of civilian trauma, so we don't hold back on these guys.
My best friend Howard coined the term "gutters" for them, and they're the most common issue we've dealt with these past years in the city. The Guards and Security never step in for these occurrences, and just love to blame us when things go wrong! Well, if they were reliable I guess The Viceroy Company would be out of work, wouldn't they?
If you're in the market of any of the following: any humane approaches involving yokai; gutter pest removal; technological fixes; or looking for help with any kind of community concern, that's where TVC shines! We may be a small company, but we are very thorough and efficient!
Oh, here's my card just in case you need anything. Even if it seems like a weird request, we're here to help!
[RANDY CUNNINGHAM]
[The Viceroy Company]
[Secretary, Bookkeeper, Scribe]
[Certified Book Guy]
Ninja stuff or Viceroy Company stuff— don't hesitate to come find me, alright? I also offer transcription and translation services— though I think we'll have to talk about that another time. I'm hearing massive footsteps from the street I should probably attend to.
“You’re just making me jealous now, Alm. A shooting range and a private bathhouse?” a low whistle left the brunette man, his fingers twining behind his head, “It’s real nice. You gonna make this place another summer home or something? I call the room in the east wing when I visit— it’s closest to the range and the kitchens, hehe…”
The King of Valentia smiled warmly as his friend continued to ponder in the main dining hall, admiring the large windows to the side as he called dibs in the hypothetical scenario.
“You know me and Celica already have two summer homes, Tobin. I think three’s a bit overkill.” he laughed heartily, “No, this place is for the new Duke we’re gonna appoint for these lands. This region has been lumped together with the neighboring county since the end of the war seven years ago, and this place has been empty since.
"I mean it’s less than a day’s ride to the capitol castle, so it wasn’t neglected in terms of resources, but this county’s economy has been steadily recovering, and a Duke would be able to help them in this new transition.”
Tobin hummed, not taking his eyes off the intricate windows. Years of being one of the King’s right-hands and he still got easily confused with all the titles. “Sounds helpful. Who’re you thinking of?”
“You, Tobin.”
The taller man turned towards his friend, brow furrowed in genuine confusion, “You want me to choose? I mean, I don’t know these guys in court half as well as you— but alright. Definitely not Count Moreau’s son, I mean yeesh! Did you see the kid talk to the others in the court? He is definitely not gonna help the people here with that attitude—”
Alm’s smile never wavered, as if he’d expected this exact scenario with him, “Tobin, I mean you’re the Duke.”
The knight had frozen, save for his eyes that blinked owlishly at the King, “Sorry, say that again? I must’ve heard wrong.”
Small thing I wrote a while ago to explore Est's character in my little au. Not putting it on Ao3 until I have a few more drabbles in this au to lump together.
Love was a simple concept in her youth. Her idea of romantic love was quiet nights in a shared home, with stolen kisses and touches far away from a battlefield or barracks. It was entirely domestic; kept upright by an unwavering stability she'd never known.
Est had grown up in search of that dream, sizing up men in the army with little else in mind but how well they'd fit that image; all before she'd met Abel.
The green knight was everything she'd envisioned: polite, handsome, loyal, steadfast. Her eldest sister had praised his good nature time and time again, and Est had trusted Palla’s word above all else. He would have fit perfectly into the little fantasy of her mind; green hair and an easy smile in place of the blank figure she'd always danced with in that small, little home.
Even more beneficial, she could sense he would be more than happy to fill such a role. He was the sort to prioritize pleasing the people around him, amicable fondness bleeding from every task completed or conversation had. His level of devotion for King, country, and comrades was more icing on the cake; he was perfect in every way.
Yet she never did anything.
Est had stayed his affable friend, a bubbly presence but nothing more. Any talk of romance she had dashed on her tongue, an unexplainable unease prickling in her gut holding her back. The creeping feeling had only grown exponentially by the time she had returned from Valentia and been captured once again.
The captors of her second kidnapping had incorrectly thought of her as Abel's beloved, using her as a pawn to get him in their forces. That sinking feeling suffocated her when their plan had actually worked.
They had allowed one brief meeting between the two when he arrived, her confusion plummeting into dread seeing the knight be led into her room. The minute the door had shut behind him, she had rushed to him; though not in the romantic gratitude others may have assumed. Est had questioned him fiercely in hushed tones on his reasons for being there, though the older man had silenced her with a heavy hand on her shoulder. In frantic whispers of his own, he explained his presence as an assurance of her safety and that no harm would come to her.
“Just keep acting like you're my wife.” His eyes were desperate, “It’s the only way I know how to protect you.”
She had agreed to the terms, nodding meekly though the weight of his words would only hit her when the moon was high and he was long gone from her prison.
It’s the only way I know how to protect you.
Est was no stranger to being saved. Memories of her time at Grieth’s Citadel in that rickety dungeon followed by Celica and her own sisters coming to her aid seemed fresh in her mind; with Catria’s jab at her “Always being the baby sister” taunting her in her current predicament.
She couldn’t be made for just this, could she? A life of only needing to be saved; where her security was only granted by those other than herself? She was under her sisters’ care now, but what of the future– would she be merely passed on from baby sister to a damselled wife; becoming someone else’s problem?
It’s the only way I know how to protect you.
Her once beloved dreams now made her stomach drop.
The ones where she had once dared to picture Abel by her side were the ones that made her the most sick. The mirage of his face in her fantasies now flickered like a flame against a plume of wind, his idealized version now cracked— along with the girl's dependence on him. Staring up at the ceiling of her current room of captivity, the youngest Whitewing found a new resolve burning through her.
She would not be a problem to be handed from one person to the next.
She was letting go of the past reliance on faux stability and domesticity to be her happiness or her identity; trading in her blurred figure in that little house for a chance at being more than just a baby sister or shopkeeper’s wife. Maybe she could just be Est. Maybe that would be enough.
The deep sinking feeling had eased as soon as she had come to the conclusion. The rational part of her mind consoled her, chanting that she was doing the right thing, regardless of the raw ache in her chest. Summoning the courage to embody the unwavering nature she had sought for so long in others, Est stayed true to her resolve.
*
Sounds of battle had fallen dully on her ears as her palms twitched without their usual weight in hand. Mumbled wishes to see her sisters again had poured from her lips to the empty room, the girl unwilling to die before that wish was granted.
When the solitude had been broken by her eventual freedom and the three were together again, Est knew all of them had felt the same pressure by these events.
Even to the day she was saved once more when Marth’s army had marched to battle, she had given Abel a desperate hug by the end of it. She relayed gratitude for ensuring her survival with his actions, thanking him for being her friend with a heavy smile, pulled tight at the edges, that conveyed more than she spoke. In return, he had given her the genuine and kindhearted smile that she had always known, and didn’t inquire further; even if his gaze was a bit too knowing for her liking.
He took her thanks and friendship when they had parted, and the two had turned and walked away from each other when it was all done.
She did not look back.
That night was spent with her sisters, the three of them splayed out on the same bedroll of a fortress the army had camped at. King Marth had ensured Est a comfortable quarters to recover in, providing a large bed with a hunch that they'd all be together after such a reunion.
They were all in their nightclothes, huddled up in large blankets and each other's embrace as they cried most of the night. Est had likely cried the most of them all, allowing all the unsaid grief from her own resolutions to follow behind the terror she had lived on for months without them. She cried in wails and huffs ripped out of her in the safety of her sisters’ arms, grateful for the privacy of the room. Catria let out short sobs pressed into Est’s own shoulder, with her arms tight around her baby sister as if she'd fly away again. Palla had her arms wrapped around them both, less tight but still firm, and murmured words and songs of comfort surrounding them. Est never heard her eldest sister cry, but she felt the drops of tears intermittently through her soft lyrics.
It felt much heavier than the last time they’d been pried apart. Their reunion at the citadel had seemed almost lighthearted in comparison to the stakes this fight had brought.
As the warmth of her sisters’ beside her lulled her to sleep, Est had allowed her one more night to be taken care of by her dearest loved ones. One more night of being the baby sister. Though when morning came, she wouldn’t be someone else's concern. She’d be the capable younger Whitewing, a knight her sisters’ never need worry about.
Her eyes fluttered shut with a somber defiance and a small smile.
We’re finally about to be at the dance! It only took me a little over two years. 💀It’s been a bit tough to work on this lately due to arm and wrist pain, but I’ll continue working on this bit by bit. Hope I can bring this story to its end!
