The eyasses crawled out of the open front door of their house and scurried across one of the bridges that spanned the expanse of the nest-shaped city. Halcyonus fishermen waved at them as the little balls of fluff dodged and weaved their way around their long backward-bending legs, and the occasional human stopped to watch them; young Dorceans were a rare sight, especially as they belonged to one of the only Dorceans in all of Lacus: the Dorcean they were on their way to see now.
Disturbed turnfins flew away as they ran onto another rope bridge, making it sway underneath them. They hopped off of this onto one of the lower levels of the city, then rushed down the pathway, again weaving their way past carts and the market people, spilled goods and coils of ropes. There was an archway leading into the main tower on which the city stood. They rushed down the spiral stairs, squeaking and chittering to each other excitedly, and then turned out another archway that led onto a wide pier leading between this city-tower and another. More fishermen were out with their turnfins and nets and fishing poles, bringing in fresh catches for the day; their father would be among them.
Not seeing him on the pier, they went down a set of stairs leading to another one, lower on the water and further out from the first. Boats were tied here, as well as crates full of goods and supplies for trading across the lake in Solas. The eyasses looked around, searching for a familiar shape. Dorcy squeaked and poked her sister, and then pointed towards the distant end of the pier, where, past a few stalls and piles of cargo, could be seen the familiar gray back with spots and stripes. Besteen let out a small cry of excitement, and the two began to barrel towards him.
As they approached, another surprise greeted them: their father moved a little, and they could see that he was talking to another Dorcean: his brother, their uncle Besteel. Both eyasses squeaked in excitement and increased their pace.
But as they came closer, weaving their way between massive piles of crates, they realized something was wrong. Besteen paused, then turned and looked at her sister. Dorcy tilted her head, and then she heard it too: muffled arguing. They crept closer, and the voices grew louder, and then they knew for certain that Uncle Besteel and their father were fighting again. They hid behind a pile of crates, peeking around the corner to watch and listen.
The brothers had clearly chosen this spot because it was somewhat private, with the large piles of crates concealing them from watchful eyes, and the crowded, busy sounds all around them helped to dull the conversation- an apparently heated one. Redimus had a large net between two of his talons, giving him an appearance of a giant spider as his other claws worked to weave and repair it. He was glaring at his brother, but he kept his voice somewhat low.
“I would sooner leave them with a hungry sand-sniper,” Redimus snapped.
Besteel scoffed. “Oh, please! They’re my nieces!”
“And they are my daughters.”
The twin eyasses glanced at each other worriedly. This was about them?
“And that means they are Dorceans.” Besteel spread a few of his arms. “Does this look like a place where they can grow right?”
“Yes,” Redimus said.
Besteel growled in frustration. He moved, and Redimus dropped his net and moved with him, and they were circling each other, hackles raised as if they were about to fight- not an uncommon occurrence, when they got together. Besteen and Dorcy made to retreat, but then they stopped. Besteel dropped the tension in his shoulders and spread some of his talons out, in a peaceful gesture.
“I’m just saying: leave them with me, and they’ll come back as real Dorceans.”
Dorcy and Besteen looked at each other again. Real Dorceans? Weren’t they already real Dorceans? And why did Uncle Besteel want to take them away to turn them into some?
Redimus sighed and dragged his net back towards himself. He sorted through its coils, searching for where he left off in its repairs. “We’ve been over this a hundred times. My answer remains the same.”
“Well, it needs to change. How old are they? Two? And have you taken them hunting at all?”
“There is no need. We have enough to eat.”
Besteel then turned and looked directly at his nieces. “He doesn’t give you any meat, does he?” He asked them accusatorially.
The sisters jumped at being addressed so suddenly.
“Yes!” Dorcy said, “Papa gives us lots of fish.”
“Lots!” Besteen agreed. “He’s good at fishing.”
Besteel snorted. “Fish is hardly meat! I mean real meat- something you can hunt. Come on, what have you had that I haven’t sent you?”
“They’ve had turnfin,” Redimus said, “and jackknife, shellfish, thatchtail, munt-runner-”
“But have they hunted? Have either of them made their first kill yet?”
“Dorcy already made hers at three months old-”
“That was a fish!” Besteel groaned. “That hardly counts!”
He dragged a talon down his face in exasperation. “Gabu! It’s like you don’t want them to be Dorceans at all! Has my namesake even killed anything yet?”
Besteen ducked her head. She scratched at the planks under her with her little claws. “...I smushed a bug,” she offered, murmuring.
“Lots of bugs!” Dorcy supplied. “And you also help with gutting the spiderfish.”
Besteen perked up. “Oh, yeah!”
Besteel looked at them, clearly devastated. He shook his head, then shot a look of disgust at his brother. “You should be ashamed of yourself! You’re supposed to teach them about their heritage! Their family pride!”
“It should be their choice,” Redimus said, firmly.
Besteel snorted again. “It should! But it seems you’ve already decided for them. How are they supposed to choose what they want for themselves if you won’t even let them learn?”
“Learn what?” Dorcy peeped.
Redimus sighed. “What are you two even doing here?” He asked gently, ignoring the question, “Shouldn’t you be with your mother?”
“Mommy went back to sleep,” Besteen said. “So we came to see the fishies.”
Redimus gestured up with one of his free talons. “Alright. Go back up on the boardwalk. I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Uncle Besteel-?”
“Is not staying to visit.” Besteel said. Redimus nodded.
The eyasses seemed disappointed, but turned and slowly crawled their way back to the “usual” spot on the higher boardwalk, looking down into the water below. They watched the other fishermen and the shoals of spiderfish that swirled under the waves; but that wasn’t what was on their minds.
“We’re real Dorceans, aren’t we?” Besteen asked her sister.
“Of course!” Dorcy said, “Uncle Besteel is being silly because he wants to make Papa mad. What else could we be?”
Besteen looked at her sister for a moment, and then down at her claws. She wiggled them, as if she wasn’t sure they were really what they appeared to be.
“...You don’t think…”
The sisters looked at each other for a moment in silence. Then they both started laughing.
“What else could we be?” Dorcy said again, nudging her sister in the shoulder. Besteen giggled and nudged her back.
“Maybe marticks. Or bayries. That’s what uncle Huxie calls us.”
“No, I don’t want to be a bayrie! I prefer a martick. Marticks are fierce, and can spit acid!”
“That sounds like it hurts, though.”
“No, or else they wouldn’t always be doing it. I bet it's fun! I want acid spit!”
“I want acid spit, too! And horns!”
“I want horns, too! And-”
The two eyasses went on chittering, while unbeknownst to them, they were being watched from below. Redimus looked up at his twins, finishing the repairs on his net. Besteel shook his head.
“Look at them. That’s sad.”
“There is nothing wrong with them,” Redimus said in a low growl: a warning.
Besteel scoffed. “You would think so. You’re…you. It’s not fair to them, for you to try to mold them into your image, just because you think you know best.”
“I’m not trying to mold them into my image,” Redimus said. “They can hunt if they choose to. I’m not stopping them. There just hasn't been any need.”
“What about for their honor? Have you thought of that? They’re going to grow older. What male will ever want to join their harems if they can’t court him with a trophy display? No tribe leader would allow a male from his tribe to join with a female without blood honor.”
“It’s too early to think of that.”
“It’s never too early to earn honor.”
“There are other ways to get it. Ways that don’t involve blood.”
Besteel crinkled his nose in disgust. “You would believe something like that. You’re barely a Dorcean at all.”
Redimus didn’t respond. He continued furiously fixing his net, his gaze on his work. Besteel watched him and scoffed, though in truth, he regretted his choice of words; he had said something similar once, and it had gotten them both into trouble they almost couldn't come back from; no, a shaming approach wasn’t working. He had to attack this argument at a different angle.
An idea came to him. He glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye. A smirk formed on his features.
“...I bet they would have more fun hunting with me than fishing with you,” Besteel sneered.
Redimus tensed. His hackles began to rise.
Besteel chuckled. “You know it’s true. That’s why you don’t want them to visit me. Because you know that they’ll enjoy living like true Dorceans rather than Halcyonuses, and won’t want to come back to fishing nets and turnfins.”
Redimus felt his teeth grinding. A competitive streak, a long-held grudge, began to rise in him, though he tried to suppress it; but that tone, that sneer, was bringing it back out. He shook his net, trying to untangle it.
In a moment the grudge was suppressed. “I’m not going to make a bet with you over my eyasses.” He said.
“It’s not a bet,” Besteel said, “it’s a fact. You know they’re going to have more fun in one week with me than in two years of life with you.”
“But will it be safe?”
“Of course. It’s the edge of the forest, near the lake, not too dangerous. We grew up in the worst part of the forest and turned out fine.”
Redimus looked at him skeptically. Besteel shrugged.
“...I turned out fine.”
Redimus looked at him even more skeptically. Besteel waved his claws at him.
“Bah! You know what I mean; the point is- I think you just don’t want them to see how much better hunting is than fishing.”
Redimus glared at him. “Do you really think that’s going to work on me?”
“I know it is. You know you're going to lose. As always.”
“I don't always lose. I can think of quite a few times-”
“But I was talking about now.”
There was a tense stillness between them for a moment. Redimus grit his teeth, considering. He would never make a bet involving his eyasses- no matter how much Besteel teased and taunted- no, that wasn't what irked him. It was his words.
“Decided for them”
“Mold them into your image”
“Real Dorceans”
Expectations. Redimus had no expectations for his daughters. He knew, first hand, what that would do to them. But was he really choosing for them? What if they enjoyed the traditional lifestyle?
The thoughts swirled in his mind, gnawing into a long-held sense of guilt. Finally he growled and threw his net down. He pushed past his brother, towards the ramp leading to the higher boardwalk. Besteel watched him, smirking.
Redimus found his daughters playing with a bird feather they had found. Besteen caught it, then blew on it, and then they went scrambling around trying to catch it again. They only stopped when they noticed their father watching them. The feather blew away.
“Pack anything you’ll need for a week,” Redimus said, “You two are going to go stay with my brother.”
The twins squeaked in excitement and rushed off back towards their home, no questions asked. Redimus felt his brother's presence behind him.
“Don't be self-satisfied yet,” he warned. “I'm not agreeing to this to get at you.”
Besteel chuckled. “I know. But I win, all the same.”
“No. You don’t.” Redimus turned to look at him. His mechanical eyepatch caught the light, shining directly into Besteel's eye, and Besteel covered them with a grunt.
When he recovered, Redimus drew his claws down gingerly through the gouges of the scars on his face. The scars over his missing eye.
“Nothing,” he said, “is to happen to them. I know they’re like me. Just ensure they don't make my mistakes.”
Besteel snorted and slapped one of Redimus’ shoulders. “I know they're not as stupid as you were, at least. They'll be fine. And if they aren't, I'll shape them up.”
“What does that mean?” Redimus snapped.
Besteel smirked at him, but if he was going to reply he couldn't; the twins came back, hopping around Besteel’s feet and chirping questions. Redimus scooped them up and carried them down, from the tower down the stairs and onto a boardwalk to the beach, where Besteel's glider was parked.
Besteel strapped them onto a passenger seat on his glider and their luggage (two small bags, so at least they knew how to pack light) was strapped to each of the wings. The twins put their flight goggles on, and Redimus leaned over the glider to nuzzle beaks with each of them.
“Be good,” he said to them, “and be careful. The forest isn't like the lake, and it's much more dangerous. Keep an eye on your uncle for me.”
“We will,” Dorcy said, squeezing one of Redimus’ claws. Besteen took longer to let go, only relenting after her father gave her another nuzzle.
Besteel snorted. “For the last time, they're going to be fine. Finish with your goodbyes and let's go.” He put his helmet on and started the engine.
The glider began to lift with a loud hum. Redimus stepped back, waving.
“Goodbye,” he said, “stay safe.”
“We will, papa! Goodbye!”
Redimus watched them fly away, until the glider disappeared over the treeline in the distance. He sighed and began the trek back to the pier where he had left his net. He picked it back up and began to finish his repairs; for a while, his mind was empty.
But now that the confrontation had passed, and his blood cooled, he realized exactly what he had done- and realized, even worse, he now had to tell their mother. He sighed, folded up the net, and headed for his home.
The house was dark, and grew more so as he neared the room at its center, winding his way down a circular hall. As he went, the temperature also dropped, so that soon he could see his own breath. The refrigeration unit Hailey had repurposed for them was working well- extremely well, to be producing this temperature in the middle of Summer.
The hall ended at an arched doorway, and he stood at the threshold.
Doshika was lying on the floor of Redimus’ room- their room, when she was present- and she took up most of it. She had most of her limbs tucked under her, save for her her main pair of arms. They were propping up her chin on talons neatly folded. She opened her eyes as he came in.
“You are sending our eyasses to live with Besteel for a week.” She said.
Redimus ducked his head. He fiddled with his talons. “...Ah. You know already.”
Doshika's dark eyelids lowered halfway. “Dorcy and Besteen told me as they were kissing me goodbye.”
Redimus looked down at the carpet, picking at a few frosted threads with his claws. He cleared his throat a few times.
“...I'm sorry,” he said, after a moment.
“I understand. Your brother knows exactly how to get under your hide. Besides, it may be good for them to explore the world a little, to get fresh air that doesn't smell of the lake.”
He looked up at her. “If you're worried about Besteel-”
“He knows what I will do to him,” Doshika said. Her talons tightened on her knuckles. The dark black sickle claws shone in the dim light of the globular lanterns above.
Redimus nodded. He looked at the carpet again, then shivered a little in the cold.
“Still, I wish I had been consulted before I lost a week with my daughters,” there was a pointed inflection that sharpened at the end of the sentence, like an icicle.
Redimus ducked his head in shame again.
“I know. I am sorry.”
“Yes,” Doshika agreed.
There was another silence. Redimus rubbed one of his legs with another one, trying to warm it. He glanced at her, then away again.
He began shuffling back. “...So, I'm guessing you don't want me to-”
“Oh, no,” she said. “Perhaps the only good thing about this is I finally get you to myself. By all means, come here.”
***
Besteel landed the glider on the edge of his campsite. He turned it off, then took off his helmet and gestured to the glade with one arm.
“Well, here it is,” he said, “the Wandering Forest, my campsite.”
His nieces looked around at all of the trees and plants, the moss-strewn ground, and the many things Besteel had in his camp: lanterns hung on hooks, hunting implements, snares and cages and a tent for the rain.
Dorcy sniffed the air. “Oooh,” she said, “it smells alive here- not like the lake, in a different way! Very…planty!”
“So many trees,” Besteen murmured, “not like the garden.”
Besteel chuckled. “The forest is no garden, that's for certain. This is only the edge of it.”
He unstrapped them and the two eyasses hopped down onto the moss, sniffing it and squishing it between their talons. Besteel took their bags and placed them in a small mossy hollow in the center of his camp. His nieces rushed over and began to unpack their things, neatly laying out two small bedrolls and a dingy, chewed-up stuffed waterbear each.
Besteel blinked at them. “You still have those?”
Besteen hugged hers. “Mm-hm!”
Besteel narrowed his eyes. “Why? You're too old for baby toys.”
“We are?” Dorcy held hers tighter to herself protectively.
“You should be. Why hasn’t your sire taken them from you yet?”
The twins held their toys closer, as if afraid Besteel would take them away from them that instant; but he just snorted and shook his head.
“That's sad. Oh, well. His problem.”
He shrugged and then began using his multiple talons to brush dirt off himself.
“First thing's first. You need to learn the basics. What do you know about hunting? Nothing?”
“We know a little,” Besteen said.
“Not enough, I bet,” Besteel scoffed. “He's never taken you hunting. That changes now. But the first things must come first. That means we work on camp basics: location, set up, tool handling, weapons. After that I'm going to teach you about tracking, and if your instincts kick in by then, maybe I'll take you to make your first kills. You're both way behind for your age.”
He smirked. “But of course, with Orbona’s best hunter as your teacher, you'll be taking trophies by the end of the week.”
Dorcy and Besteen glanced at each other. They hugged their stuffed waterbears even closer.
“Then we'll be ‘real’ Dorceans?” Dorcy peeped.
Besteel nodded. “After you make your first kill, yes.”
“...But..what are we now?”
Besteel didn’t respond for a moment. There came a few expressions across his face, subtle twitches around his eyes and in the lines near his beak; but then he smiled again.
“Eyasses,” he said.
“What about papa?” Besteen chirped.
Besteel paused. He clicked his beak.
“Hm? What about him?”
“He's a real Dorcean too.”
Again, Besteel fell into that strange silence, save his face wasn’t a rippling pool of emotions like the first time- this time he seemed more solemn. His beak clicked together again.
“...Are you hungry?- Of course you are, you're still growing. I have some real meat in my stores. You seem to like water bear,” he said in a slightly jesting tone, gesturing to the plushes they held onto.
He rose and headed for another area of his camp, opening a latch that covered a hole in the ground. He began sorting through containers that were in there, something that smelled to the girls like spices the fishermen used to preserve fish- and there were other things they had never smelled before. Bloody things. Tasty smelling things.
But he hadn't answered their question; Besteen and Dorcy were too old to be so easily distracted. They noticed how their uncle had avoided it. They looked at each other again, and only more questions began to form in their little minds- questions they would seek the answers to in the coming week, whether Besteel wanted it or not.
Snippets of Sailor Dee’s time in the crew, written as practice for personality as well as aligning the backstory. Takes place right before Super Star Ultra. Aka the Meta Knight learns to care arc.
The tea was sweet. Captain Vul was always a traditionalist when it came to tea, always refusing sugar or any other sweetners. Yet here Meta Knight's cup was, as sweet as he always took his tea. Clearly, Captain Vul was trying to sweeten him up before making an asinine request.
"So, Sir, how did you find your tea?" Captain Vul asked, sweetly.
Meta Knight sighed and put down his cup. "Out with it."
"Do you remember me talking about needing a few extra hands around for ship maintenance?"
"Roughly."
"Because the only other person here who can even steer the ship is Axe Knight."
"I'm aware."
"Who is a combatant, and therefore will not be able to steer during the big event."
"Does any of this rambling have a point?"
"Therefor!" Captain Vul slammed his hand on the table. "I have been conducting several interviews and believe I have finally found an acceptable addition to our crew!"
"We are parked on the Rainbow Islands," hissed Meta Knight. "They could easily be a spy for the King of Dreamland."
"I asked and he said he doesn't know Dreamland's King. The lad hasn't ever strayed from his home island."
"If they have never strayed from their home, I doubt they have much useful experience."
"Ha! I assure you he is the most qualified for the job! He may speak a little too plainly for my taste, but He was the only one who remained after my empassioned, 3 hour long speech about the glory of the Halberd!"
"Yes, I suppose being able to tolerate such a speech would be a useful skill." Sarcastically grumbled Meta Knight as he sipped his tea.
Slighted, Captain Vul gave a short huff. "We are leaving the day after tomorrow. We can scan him for any way to transport information to Dreamland's King when he gets aboard, as well as block the signal to access the King from our ship. For my sake at the least, give him a chance."
Captain Vul, in a way, had a point. In the event that Captain Vul couldn't work, voluntarily or otherwise, the only other being aboard the ship with a notion on how to fly the Halberd was Axe. Meta Knight himself only knew the very basics of the steering wheel, however, he had been banned from it three "incidents" ago.
"Fine"
Captain Vul stood up with pride. He hadn’t been able to finish his sweetned tea.
"However-" Said Meta Knight. The tone deflated Captain Vul's prideful stance, if only slightly. "He will be subject to the same rules as the others. All of them."
"Yes, Milord."
☆☆☆☆☆
The new recruit was unlike the others. He didn't look to be joining out of necessity, like Sword and Blade, nor out of admiration, like Mace and Axe. He had that doe eyed look of someone on their first day of the job, confused with the newness of it all rather than the grandeur of the Halberd.
The rest of the Meta-Knights began to get rowdy upon seeing the new recruit. They fell back in line with one swift glare, however Meta Knight did share some of their concerns. Their potential recruit was a soft looking Waddle Dee, clad in a white sailor's cap.
Meta Knight glanced to Captain Vul. Was this really the one? Captain Vul nodded, and turned back to the Waddle Dee.
"Well? Introduce yourself!"
"Oh, right," the Waddle Dee gave a sharp salute. "I'm Sailor Waddle Dee. Nice to meet you."
He won't last a day.
☆☆☆☆☆
Despite fighting with a parasol, Sailor did decent in his test battle. Not great, not bad, simply decent. He blocked more than he attacked, but Meta Knight supposed that was the nature of fighting with a parasol. There were strategies where that fighting style could come to use, if properly honed.
Sailor Dee bowed to Sword, his opponent in the test battle, then turned to Meta Knight and saluted. He said nothing, yet his eyes sparkled in anticipation.
"Passable." This satisfied the Waddle Dee, who smiled with his eyes. "So long as you follow the rules of the crew and rules of probation, you may stay." The other's cheered behind him, excited for their new friend's accomplishment.
Sailor Dee lowered his salute and turned his head, confused. "The rules of probation? I only heard about the rules of the crew."
Meta Knight eyed Captain Vul. "There are only two rules for the probation period. Rule 1, you must train everyday. Rule 2, you must defeat me in a challenge of some sort."
☆☆☆☆☆
"A challenge that I can beat Lord Meta Knight at," muttered Sailor to himself, fruit in hand as he sat at the dining table. "What could someone like him be bad at?"
"You're over thinking this, Sailor." Trident Knight said, walking over the the newest member with Javelin and Blade in tow. "It can be anything! And you have plenty of time! Being honest, Lord Meta Knight probably won't be accepting any challenges before the takeover." The other two nodded in agreement.
"You wanna know how I beat him?" Asked Blade. Without waiting for an answer, Blade continued, "I challenged him to a game of tetris!"
"I beat him at a speed multiplication test," said Javelin.
Trident laughed, then added their own story. "I beat him at a silly face competition, with Captain Vul as the judge. See? It really can be anything!"
"Yeah, but I ain't good at multiplication, silly faces, nor tetris. I'm worried it'll take awhile to find something I'm good enough at for a challenge."
Blade patted his back. "You will. I know it. We've all been there with the same anxieties as you. Besides, you have a few months until the invasion is over."
☆☆☆☆☆
"You're not on cooking duty today."
Sailor Dee turned to the gruff voice. Truthfully, he barely heard it over the sizzling of the breakfast he was cooking. Wrapped in his cape like it was a blanket, Meta Knight was standing in the doorway, gruff voice the only evidence that he had just awoke.
"Captain Vul told me to cook breakfast today, Milord."
Meta Knight grumbled something, the only word Sailor Dee could pick out was "laziness". He plopped himself in his usual spot, pulled out his usual book, and didn't ask anymore questions.
"Milord?" Sailor Dee waited until Meta Knight turned to him to speak. "Shall I start the coffee pot?"
"Please."
Soon, Sailor had some food on serving plates, and the other members of filed in. They served themselves as Sailor Dee carried the pot of Coffee, along with sugar and cream, to the table.
Sword eagerly scooped himself a hearty serving. "Smells delicious, don't it," whispered Sword to Blade. "Of course, anything smells good compared to Meta Knight's cooking."
Blade whispered something in response, something that Sailor didn't catch, but it made Sword crack out in a sudden loud cackle. "You can say that again!"
"Say what again?" Asked Meta Knight. The crew chuckled, and refused to elaborate on the matter.
☆☆☆☆☆
"Oh he's going to kill us!"
"What do we do, what do we do?!"
"Shhhhhh! Keep it down for one!"
Sailor Dee rounded the corner. "What are you two screaming about?" He stared at his two crewmates, Mace and Trident, as they stood as still as a statue. The crew's laundry was in a basket in-between them, and clutched in Mace's hands was one of Captain Vul's shirts. They dunked it into the laundry basket at record speed.
"Nothing! We weren't screaming! The washing machine is just loud!" Proclaimed Mace. Trident elbowed them slightly and Mace elbowed back.
Sailor stared blankly at them. "Cool. So what's wrong with the shirt?"
The two of them looked warily to one another, then parted to Sailor could examine the shirt. It tore at the seam and one of the patches showing Captain Vul's accomplishments were loose. The other two hastily made excuses.
"Yeah we know we should've washed it more carefully-"
"We didn't think it would tear so easily and-"
Sailor Dee interrupted them, "calm down! It's an easy fix. Just tell me where a sewing kit is."
Mace Knight sniffled away his tears. "You'll fix it?"
"Yeah, just need the sewing kit."
Trident Knight looked hopefully towards him. "And you won't tell the Captain?"
"I promise. Please tell me where the sewing kit is, I am begging you."
"Second drawer in the cleaning cabinet." The three of them turned to find Meta Knight standing in the doorframe. Mace and Trident stood still as statues.
"Thank you, Milord." Sailor Dee bowed, then made his way to the sewing kit.
He was sitting at his personal desk, mending shirt, when two sharp knocks were heard from the door. He half heartedly hid the shirt between him and the chair. "Come in!"
Meta Knight stepped in and closed the door behind him. "How's the shirt doing?"
Sailor pulled it out from behind him. "It's coming along, Milord. Seams almost fixed, then just need to do the patches. Maybe touch up on a few of the others so they don't come loose any time soon." Meta Knight stared at it for a long moment. Long enough for Sailor to become fidgety.
"Almost unnoticeable. Good job." With that, Meta Knight left the room before Sailor could thank him for the praise.
☆☆☆☆☆
They landed on a bustling planet known for it's street markets and ship parts. There was a shopping list of parts needed, spread across the Meta-Knights. Sailor Dee, who didn't know where to find the typical ship parts, was sent to get food, already ordered, from a restuaraunt that was marked on the map. It was unfortunate. The others promised to show him where they got their usual ship purchases from when time wasn't an issue, which had to be good enough for now.
For such a simple task, Sailor Dee didn't anticipate a shadow to need to follow. Meta Knight lurked a short distance away, neither drawing nor diverting attention to himself. Sailor Dee stopped. Meta Knight stopped. Confused, Sailor Dee walked over to Meta Knight.
"What is it, Milord? Why are you following me?"
"You are not yet in the clear of being a spy for Dreamland," said Meta Knight.
That was fair enough. Meta Knight seemed to not mean it in an insulting manner. This time, Meta Knight remained at Sailor Dee's side as they made their way to the resturaunt.
There weren't many booths that caught Sailor Dee's eyes. He had no need for trinkets to place on his desk or jewlery to wear to say he was here. But there was one that caught his eye on the way. It was a simple booth, lacking any advertisment, painted in pink, green and white. The vendor handed out small treats on a stick to their customers.
"Do you like Dango?" asked Meta Knight.
Sailor Dee looked at him, confused. "Dango?" Meta Knight gave a slight gesture with his head to the three-colored booth. Sailor shrugged. "I've never had it before. What is it?"
"It's sweet." There was a pause where Meta Knight could have elaborated, however he didn't.
Sailor Dee hummed. "I like sweet."
Meta Knight hummed back, saying nothing more. They arrived at the resturaunt, the staff recognized Meta Knight, and they recieved the food without problem. Meta Knight took half of Sailor Dee's load from him with ease.
On the way back they stopped at the three-colored stall again. Meta Knight ordered two Dango. He recieved them in a paper bag, adding it to the pile he was carrying.
Sailor looked at him, confused, however didn't ask. That night there was a dango in a paper bag on Sailor Dee's desk. It tasted better than expected.
☆☆☆☆☆
They landed on a different planet. Meta Knight had heard some on the people in the street market from the last planet talking about dangerous beasts on this one, so a detour was planned to eliminate them.
Sailor remained glued to Javelin and Axe. The planet was supposedly inhabited by regular citizens. Personally, Sailor didn't believe it. The mountains and deep caverns only echoed the howls of the beasts.
"It's coming," plainly announced Javelin.
Axe Knight brought out his weapon. "Heard." Sailor Dee grabbed his Parasol and opened it.
The beast looked like a two story tall wolf, painted like it came from the local emo teen shop. It had a name that Captain Vul had mentioned several times, yet it escaped Sailor. Compared to Javelin and Axe, Sailor could do no damage at all. It was fast and powerful.
It's large maws wrapped around Javelin. Before it could bite down, Sailor ran in and jammed his parasol in it's mouth. During it's struggle, Sailor dragged a stunned Javelin a safe distance, before Meta Knight swooped in and took care of the rest.
"Thank you," Javelin mustered out. "Sorry about your weapon."
Sailor eyed the parasol, now bent with holes where teeth pierced it. "I think I need a new one."
Meta Knight sheathed his sword. "Better than the alternative. Head back, you three. I'll do a final look around."
"Heard."
☆☆☆☆☆
It is said, the Captain always goes down with their ship. Well, Captain Vul had been the first to flee, so then it must be the Sailor who goes down with the ship.
The others had evacuated safely already. Meta Knight had chased Kirby out of the ship. Sailor was all who remained.
Sailor Dee ran about the cabin, doing what little he could to lessen the crash. He managed to angle it into the ocean. It was already going to be a burning wreck, but it hopefully would be in relatively one piece and in shallow enough water to recover.
The metal screamed as it protested the damage done. He didn't have much time. He turned to where he was told the escape pods were and ran.
☆☆☆☆☆
Meta Knight landed on the cliff where the rest of his crew were waiting. They cheered for his well-being as he approached, crowding around to ask many questions on what they were doing now. Meta Knight gave them a once over to see if there were no injuries. It seemed all good, except-
"Where's Sailor?"
Captain Vul's face paled. "He was with you when you were battling Kirby, Milord. We thought he'd be with you."
Meta Knight opened his wings for flight again.
☆☆☆☆☆
He spotted him, floating amongst the wreckage. He has been trapped in a crashed escape pod, unable to get out without falling into the water. Sailor had spotted him first, waving in the escape pod until he had Meta Knights attention. With a quick yank, Meta Knight had the escape pod righted enough to let Sailor open the hatch.
"Thank you, Milord."
"Are you injured?"
Sailor Dee looked down to his left foot. "My foot hurts. It got banged up when I was getting in here. I think I got some bruises elsewhere, but it's my foot that hurts the most."
"Sorry."
"For what? Rescuing me?" Asked Sailor. He put his hands up to be picked up from the wreckage. Meta Knight, as expected now, didn't explain. He did, however, grab Sailor Dee’s hands and begin to fly back to shore.
His wings were getting tired now. The knowledge that he was near exhaustion only served to make Meta Knight try harder. They had to make it to shore.
They didn't. After only a few minutes, Meta Knight and Sailor spotted a sail boat approaching them quickly, being operated by the rest of the crew. All of them had come together to help find Sailor and be sure the two of them were alright. Meta Knight brought them both down, safely. The crew fussed all over them, glad they were as okay as they could be given the situation. Unbeknownst to them, Meta Knight smiled.
☆☆☆☆☆
The next day, Sailor Dee was resting on a cliff, staring off into the sunset. Meta Knight approached him.
Sailor Dee looked up to him, ruefully. "Don't know if I'll be able to complete Rule 1 in full now," Sailor Dee remorsefully laughed, gesturing to his bandaged foot. "I'm sorry, Lord Meta Knight."
"Don't be. As far as I'm concerned, you passed and completed your probation period."
Sailor Dee turned around, shocked. "Don't go giving me any special treatment or anything, Sir. I haven’t even completed Rule 2!"
Meta Knight shook his head. "You have already had me beat several times now, I'm afraid." At Sailor Dee's confused look, Meta Knight elaborated.
"My Meta-Knights are meant to be the strongest crew in the universe. For awhile now, I had been only focusing on physical strength. I had forgotten that what makes a crew truly strong is their loyalty to one another, dedication to trying their best, and compassion for helping one another out. Somewhere, I must of forgotten about that. Your loyalty, dedication and compassion outweigh my own. It seems I still have much to learn."
Meta Knight looked back towards Sailor Dee. His eyes were glistening, so close to crying. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?" He choaked out.
"Permison granted."
"I was going to challenge you to a cake baking competition because I heard you weren't good at cooking."
A beat, and then Meta Knight laughed. With a friendly pat to Sailor Dee, he rose, then offered a hand to help his subordinate up. "Perhaps when the Halberd is rebuilt. Captain Vul can be the judge."
They left the cliff side, facing the encroaching night's sky. Meta Knight leading with Sailor Dee right behind.
Written for @ckhalloween’s “Creatures” prompt on Day 3. Sorry that it’s a few days late. I’ve been a bit busy. Based on some headcanons that I have for Jimmy in my Julie-verse. Jimmy is roughly ten or eleven in this.
Creature Feature
It’s Saturday night. Jimmy’s parents were going out for some dinner with clients. They won’t be home until much later. His older brothers were spending the night at friends’ houses.
Jimmy has plans, too. He was supposed to stay in bed because he was sick. But the opportunity was too great. He was dying to watch Fright Night, the show that plays old sci-fi and horror B-movies on KHJ-TV. With a little help and the promise to take over Luke’s chores for the next week, his babysitter was canceled and he would be home alone.
Tonight’s first film is Attack of the Crab Monsters.
The film is a bit boring. There are too many scenes with the scientists. “C’mon, where are the crab monsters?” It takes nearly half of the movie to see a giant crab, which was disappointing, to say the least. Apparently, Sinister Seymour agrees.
While science isn’t his best subject, he’s just having a hard time following the “science” of the film. “Radiation mutates the crabs and they absorb the minds of the people they kill? What?” The best part is near the end when the crab is seen in the light, rather than in a dark cave.
The next thing he knows, he’s waking up in his own bed. It’s a quarter past three in the morning. “Great. I’m gonna have a ‘talk’ over breakfast.” But Jimmy doesn’t feel the need to go back to sleep yet. He climbs out of bed, tiptoeing over to his desk.
Trying to be as quiet as possible, he scrambles through a drawer. He smiles when he finds what he needed. Jimmy sits down, switches on the flashlight, and sets it down. He can’t get that trash movie out of his head. He starts sketching Hoolar on the beach.
Inquisition Perks Chapter 4: Friends in High Places
Entire work link: Ao3
Chapter: 4/?
Chapter rating: T
Fic rating: E
Relationship: Solas x Lavellan, Solavellan, Solas x Maeve
Tags: fluff, flirting, pining, Solas being Solas
Chapter Summary: Solas and Maeve Lavellan get to know each other better while he works on the mural in her quarters after their arrival at Skyhold.
Solas had been spending a lot of time in her quarters lately, just not for the reasons she had been hoping to have him alone in her rooms. It was very kind of him to paint the mural. She knew it helped him relax and process everything that happened since Haven, as well as the constant closing of rifts and fighting what could feel like endless battles. Maeve could appreciate that side of things, needing something to escape into. A part of her hoped it was also, at least unconsciously, his desire to be near her as well.
Her favourite thing about it though, wasn't just seeing it come together from a sketch he had planned out, to actual colour on the wall, but watching him do it. She wondered if he realized that he hummed while he worked, and sometimes when he was really concentrating his tongue would slip out the corner of his mouth and his brows would knit together. Often he was so engrossed in what he was doing he wouldn't notice her watching him. She felt a sort of excitement in seeing him when he thought he was all alone. Other times she would sit on her sofa, legs curled up under her and a book in her hand while he worked, she would occasionally glance up to take in the view of his backside, which she was conveniently at a perfect angle to inspect thoroughly. He had offered to teach her his methods, but she had her own ways to relax.
They had been spending a lot more time together since coming to Skyhold. There was a much more serious threat since Haven, but also a slowed pace to their lives as everyone worked to repair the fortress and dealt with the new beginning they had been given within it's walls. Solas had become more than a flirtation, though he had told her they should be cautious and that he still needed time.
His visits to her rooms began as a mural, but grew to a friendship she didn't expect. When they were alone, Solas was less guarded and softer somehow. He would make small gestures that bridged them towards something closer. Tiny acts of intimacy. Brushing one of her stray hairs from her forehead, or resting a hand on hers when she needed comfort. He distracted her from the onslaught of responsibilities and doubts about her abilities by simply by telling her stories and asking her about herself. There was no awkwardness to their silences, just pleasant lulls in conversation between topics. Maeve was anxious to get back to her quarters at all hours of the day in hopes of catching these moments before her travels took them.
The Inquisitor was disappointed to find the loft above her bed empty one day when she had already been through the rotunda looking for Solas. It was getting dark and they would likely take supper together that evening so she didn't trouble herself, as she supposed he was somewhere about the grounds. Contented she would see him sooner or later, she began her routine as usual whenever she had some alone time.
Privacy was something Maeve had very little of with her clan and she had come to cherish it since her arrival at Skyhold. There was comfort in having other bodies near you while you slept, the soft sounds of your family breathing in the dark, and the safety you felt as a child being surrounded by your loved ones. But, having a place all her own, with a real mattress, and sheets made of fabrics she had never dreamed of... Owning something so luxurious, to let it touch her body. To spread her limbs wide across the expanse of a real bed just for her... there was no going back to a cramped caravan or tent again.
Often her first act upon reaching her room was to rid herself of her clothing. Shedding all the material and brushing the tangles from her silvery hair, she enjoyed the freedom to feel the fresh mountain air on her naked skin. The sun was almost fully obscured by the mountains now, leaving a dusty pink sky with it's departure. She would have to light a fire soon, she thought to herself, as she began tidying up her desk in preparation of completing the requisitions she had been putting off for too long. Maeve had never owned so many things before and she found keeping her work space neat was not a virtue that came naturally to her. A small slip of her hand tipped her ink well just enough to warrant a rag, which she went to retrieve from the supply closet to the left of her bed.
The sensation of falling caught her off guard. One moment she was upright and suddenly, as though the floor had reached out and grabbed her ankle, she was sprawled out on top of something surprisingly warm, and lumpy. Something that didn't feel at all like the stone she would have expected to land on had she made it to the floor. Then she recognized the familiar feel of wool and the scent of plaster and paint. As the pieces began to come together in Maeve's mind, the groan of a sleeper reluctant to wake made her fully comprehend just what had happened and why she had been unable to find Solas during her search.
The laughter bubbled in her first with tiny giggles and then an uncontrollable fit that left her red faced and quaking with big silent chuckles. Solas was coming around now, and as she laughed she slid her body so she could sit next to his curled up form, her arm lazily placed over his side.
“Maeve?” His voice dry and confused. “I'm sorry, I must have...”
He moved his hand to grasp hers, where it rested on his waist and waited for his eyes to adjust to the fading light.
“For future naps, might I suggest the bed? It would probably lead to less injuries.”
She chuckled under her breath as she squeezed his hand gently with her own.
“Well, that depends on if you intend to join me next time. I couldn't very well climb into your bed uninvited.”
It was obvious Solas's eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness.
“You might have waited for me at least.” Her tone matched the teasing in his voice.
He moved to sit and then regain his legs under him, rising to his feet. She mirrored his movements to stand facing him.
“If I had known I would find you like this, I just may have.”
She blushed slightly, grateful for the darkness to hide both her flush and the finer details of her body's response to the suggestion. A sudden boldness and tenderness had her reaching for him. Her right hand floated between them as they stood there considering each other, both unsure of what they should do. Maeve's desire won out as her palm connected to cup the softness of Solas's cheek, her fingers caressing his earlobe with small passes in a rhythm that matched her unsteady breathing.
Bringing his hand up to cover hers, Solas closed his eyes and breathed her name in a sigh. He turned his head just enough to place a kiss in her palm before folding it in his own hand and bringing it to rest on his chest.
“Vhenan,” he began, as he took a single step towards her. “I will see you tomorrow.” He finished quickly failing to meet her eye as he released her hand a stalked from the room.
"Tomorrow." She said to the empty room feeling the cold seep in with the darkness.
