#blanchesparkcandela

[ashiversary]

Happy Ashiversary, @surfacage!

My skills in the sfw department are less than ideal. Please accept this card as a sign of my love and devotion. X’D

- @blanchesparkcandela

[chibiwriter]

slow burn/fake date/enemies to lovers: Carl, Avatar Kyoshi, Fuzzbutt [I admit I ran out of ideas- but I'm also pretty sure you'd fake date Sy's cat. Like damn, i can totally see you cooking up fish for dinner and wooing the cat into your lap.]

Slow Burn - Carl (I LOVE HIM SO MUCH)Fake Date - Princess Fuzzbutt Potatocat Flerfsdottir  (You are not wrong that I wish to seduce my queen >.>;; ) Enemies to Lovers - Avatar Kyoshi (She could kill me with a sneeze and I appreciate that)

[ladyalleta]

blanchesparkcandela replied to your post “Ulaz DIES?!?!!!”

I CALL HIM MY HUSBAND -SMILES- YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER.

I TRUSTED YOU! You said it was a fun show! I was excited! T_T 

so kind then so cruel.

[leaderofteammysticblanche]

Headcanon

When Blanche is hard at work, sometimes Annie, or occasionally Candela, brings them hot chocolate to calm them down and help them relax when the work gets really stressful. Blanche is grateful for both of them, though they don’t tend to say it out loud, especially to Candela….

Valor doesn’t need a bigger ego

[chibiwriter]

CUTE PROMPT IDEA: SPARK AS A MERMAN???? NOIRE CAN BE A PIRATE OR MAYBE BLANCHE IS A SAILOR. IDK. RUN WITH IT.

THANK YOU WAIFU I ALMOST MISSED MERMAY!I put it under a cut because jfc it became an actual fic - but, then again, we all should expect this from me by now, eh? <3

Fifteen years ago…

They sprinted down the street, panting hard with a handclutching the bottom of their too-large tunic. It was raining, large dropsfalling from dark, rumbling clouds and hitting the cobblestones in a perfectstaccato. Even still, the sounds of angry voices could be heard in thedistance, growing further away as they ducked into small alcove after smallalcove.

Noire ran until the disjointed shouts faded away, takingthe back alleys and ducking through the unused portions of gardens to avoid themain road. They climbed a rickety trellis, ivy growing thick on the old ironframe, to the roof of a decrepit building. There was a boarded up entrance onthe top of the structure, which they opened and dropped into, replacing thecovering quickly so as to shut out the downpour.

The inside of the room was pitch black, but it matteredlittle. They knew the way. Still panting, they found the stairs and climbeddown from the ancient storage area. Dust clung to every inch of the place,broken, empty shelves lining their path having been looted long ago for theirprecious contents.

The soft glow of a fire drew their eye and they made theirway toward it, a frown forming on their face as they saw their sibling sittingup in their nest of rags, a thick tome taking up the majority of their lap (andthen some).

“You’re late,” Blanche said in greeting, their voice raspyand cracking. Noire’s frown deepened when the other broke down into a fit ofcoughing, though it had become admittedly better since they’d found thisabandoned library to hunker down in. Last week the fits rattled in their chest,thick and clogging, and their breathing overall had been unsteady, sleep comingonly in short bursts from which they would awake with glazed eyes and afeverish brow.

Noire was by their side in an instant and pressing a wornclay mug against their lips, the acrid smell of cooled herbs making both oftheir noses wrinkle. Still, they’d been lucky to find that soft-heartapothecary’s apprentice. The medicine would’ve been harder to get otherwise.

“What took you so long?” Blanche asked once their breathingreturned to normal, looking up at them with suspicious eyes, “You weren’tthieving again, were you?”

“Hey, if the drunken fools in Sally’s bar forget to keepone eye on their purses, it’s no skin off my nose!” Noire retorted, lettingBlanche take the mug with their own hands so they could gesture nonchalantly.

“No, but it could be your hands in an officer’s satchel ifyou’re not careful,” their twin grumbled, looking down at their mug peevishly.They inhaled sharply and drained it quickly, setting the mug down beside themwith a disgusted expression.

“Look, you fussed at me last time for stealing food. Howelse am I to feed us? No one wants to hire a pair of brats like us during thestormy season, anyway.” When there was no reply Noire sighed and lifted theirtunic, slipping the pastry they’d stashed in there out with a dramatic flair.They dropped it on top of the book in their twin’s lap, settling down besidethem with little ceremony.

Blanche jerked, lifting it quickly with one hand as theother brushed away any and all of the crumbs that had exploded over the pages.They then studied the offering, tongue flicking out to moisten their lipsinstinctively. “Where did you get this?” they asked, hesitant.

“Old lady Marie,” Noire replied, “Her new pâtissier is a grade-A piece of shit and fucked up an entire order for anoblewoman. So she bitched at him and threw the whole tray out the back. Don’tworry, though, I caught that one before it touched the ground.”

“And the others?” Blanche asked, looking at them withdiscerning eyes, “Did you get one for yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me, mon chou,” Noire said,waving a hand as they sprawled out on the ground, turning on their side andpropping their head up with a hand, “You eat it.”

Their twin frowned, squinting at them in the dim light oftheir little shelf-board fire. “That’s hardly fair, Noire.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too,” Noire said firmly, “If you like it, then it’sworth it. So quick stalling and eat the damn thing already!”

“No,” Blanche replied tartly, “We’re splitting it andthat’s final!” They took the pastry in both hands and ripped it apart, crumbsfalling like a little golden shower down into their lap and cascading into thenest of threadbare blankets and random pieces of clothing. They each grimaced,knowing the waste the action caused but neither choosing to speak of it.

“You’re such a pain!” Noire complained, scowling up atBlanche, “Why can’t you just thank me and get on with it?”

“Because it’s not fair!” Blanche protested, shoving onehalf at Noire, “And you know it!”

Noire glared at the flaky pastry, ignoring how theirstomach clenched and their mouth watered at just the sight. They could still recallthe fresh scent it had had when Noire had first caught it. They could alsorecall the ache of one of Martin’s hooligans’ fists hitting their ribs as themotley scavengers had descended on the treats as soon as Noire had. They’d beenlucky to escape with one to call their own and only a few bruises to show forit.

“I don’t know where you’re getting all this ‘fair’bullshit,” they grumbled, “Life hasn’t been fair to either of us, so why botherwith it?”

“Because,” their twin said, adopting a lofty tone. “Ican’t, in good conscious, accept this gift without giving you something ofequal value in return because I know how hard you worked to get it. Not tomention it’s the right thing to do. It shows good moral character and a strongsense of self. ”

“Says who?” Noire asked with a sneer.

“The heroes of old,” Blanche replied, inclining their headto the book in their lap.

Noire studied the tome bitterly, mouth twisted into anunhappy frown. The orphanage they’d been raised at hadn’t had any teachers, butthrough the years they’d learned basic letters. Made it easier to live life onthe run when you knew that you wouldn’t be arrested immediately for duckinginto some jewelry shop or which shops allowed scamps to loiter in front oftheir entrances to beg for coins.

Since squatting in the library, Blanche’s appetite forliterature had only been expanded by their illness forcing them to spend theirdays in solitude. They poured over the dusty books they were able to scavenge,treating their musty, sometimes moldy pages as though they were made of gold.Often when Noire returned from carousing in the outside world for the day, theyhad accumulated several grand tales from their many hours of reading and wasmore than willing to share their newfound knowledge.

Not thatthey couldn’t read the stories on their own, of course, but they loved thesound of their twin’s voice.

“You know what,” Noire drawled finally, an idea sparking intheir mind, “How about this: you tell me a story and we’ll call it square.Deal?”

“That’s still not-”

“It’s either that or nothing, Blanche. You know I won’taccept anything else.”

Blanche scowled at them for a moment then nodded slowly.“Fine,” they said stiffly, “I’ll tell you a story. Any requests?”

“Tell me a fairytale,” they said, finally taking their halfof the pastry out of their twin’s hand, “Something with the sea.” Noire thenshoved the treat into their mouth without a second thought, almost groaning howthe buttery, flaky bread seemed to melt down their throat. They watched asBlanche mimicked their motion, enjoying their obvious pleasure at the tastealmost more than their own.

“A fairytale about the sea, huh…” Blanche said slowly,carefully wiping the crumbs off their mouth and licking their fingers clean asthey thought. Their lips spread into a large grin and they leaned over Noire tosnatch a thin novel from the pile on the other side of them, setting the largebook off to the side in favor of their new interest. “This one’s a translatedtale from a far off nation, but I think it fits your specifications perfectly, mon chou.”

“Oh?” Noire said, tossing another board onto their littlefire to keep it fed before getting comfortable against Blanche’s side, “Let’shear it then.”

“Very well,” they said, sitting straighter and raising anarm so that Noire could tuck themselves against their side and peer down at thepages, “This is the story known in its homeland as ‘Den lille havfrue’, and though there are several translations ofthis text that slightly alter the meaning, the story itself remains mostly thesame: Far out in the ocean, wherethe water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, itis very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many churchsteeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath tothe surface of the water above…”

Ten years ago…

“Noire, will you just-”

They slammed the door behind them, rattling the small shackentirely. Noire tugged off their boots impatiently and threw them against thewall, almost hitting their twin when Blanche finally managed to open the door.They flopped onto their cot and turned away from the other, glaring holes intothe rough wood that made up the sides of their abode. The cracks between theboards were wide enough little slivers of the sun’s dying rays could be seen,and that alone only served to worsen their mood.

“Noire,” Blanche tried again, voice softer now so as to notget the landlord of the tenement on their backs (again) as they tugged offtheir own boots and lined them up properly near the door, “Please. Don’t beangry with me. Not now.”

“Why?” Noire hissed, hackles rising as their shouldershunched, “Why did you agree to it? How could you?!”

“It was the only way to get you out of there!” Blanchesnapped, pacing, “You were heading for the gallows, Noire! I toldyou - several times, in fact! - that consorting with those low-life ruffiansthat play at being sailors would get you into trouble. And I was right!”

“You don’t know shit!” Noire argued, sitting up so they could glare attheir twin properly, “We had a plan! I was gonna lure the guards off while theystole what we needed and then all of us were going to meet up and-”

“Don’t be a fool, monchou. You’re better than that!”they said, rounding on them, “Those cowards ran off and left you to take thefall! If I hadn’t agreed to take a commission on Admiral Willow’s ship, youwould be floating belly-up in the bay right now!”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Blanche!” they hissed, standing andmarching over to their twin with bare feet, “That’s not the only reason youtook the commission and we both know it. Last month you were swooning about theimportance of his ‘great mission’ to study the migration of glowing whales orwhat-the-fuck-ever and you’ve been salivating to get your hands on a copy ofhis charter for the next voyage ever since they decided to dock here last weekto resupply.”

“Admiral Willow’s research is not-” Blanche cut themselvesoff, throwing up their hands in frustration, “Ugh, it doesn’t matter. You don’tcare!”

“You’re right, I don’t give a rat’s ass about that stuffyprick,” Noire growled, “But I do care about you! How could you abandon me likethis, Blanche? I know what we have isn’t much, but isn’t it enough that we’retogether? It used to be, at least…”

Blanche reacted as if their twin’s words had struck themphysically, recoiling with a pained expression. They looked away from Noire,their stark white hair falling into their face and obscuring their eyes. Bothof their breaths were heavy and an aching silence descended for a handful ofmoments while they struggled to collect themselves.

The twins both craved things they could rarely obtain,though their goals differed in recent years.

Noire, well, they desired fine things and power - richnessin life that could only be afforded by the very wealthy or the very lucky.Stealing was not anything new to them, and stealing for the sake of providingfor their twin was almost second nature at this point, despite the danger andthe many, many protests. They lied, stole, and cheated with little remorse andlittle concern for the consequences.

When one lived like every day was one’s last, one didn’tput a lot of stock in ‘what ifs’ as time was better spent providing for themoment.

Blanche, by comparison, seemed drawn to more immaterialthings. Knowledge, understanding, evolution. They snuck into lectures, listenedto speeches, and visited the city library so often it was almost like a secondhome. They were obsessed with the future, charting stars and studying the seauntil patterns arose and, when they connected them and put the phenomena topaper, they became a savant scholar.

One could only be filled with a brilliant, burning desireto live to see the next day from the moment one faced one’s own mortality.

“Like it or not, there’s no changing it now, Noire,” theysaid finally, softly, voice brittle, “What’s done is done. If I don’t boardthat ship in three days’ time, they’ll come for me and throw you into thegallows regardless.” The words hung in the air, heavy with regret, saggingunder a yet-unnamed emotion that bordered on resentment.

Then Blanche turned on their heel and walked off, slippingout onto the small balcony so as to climb up onto the roof. Noire was leftstaggering in their wake, throat tight and eyes burning in the face of suchepic futility. They strode over to Blanche’s cot, fingers itching for somethingto throw, to destroy, and it only seemed natural to take it out on an objectthat did not belong to them personally. Something was tucked under their twin’spillow, poorly, and when they lifted it they froze.

A pale blue cover stared mockingly up at them, the imprintof some slender-tailed figure with long, flowing hair lightly carved in thecover. The leather was faded and the pages yellowed with age, but the thinnovel showed years of tender care and gentle, continuous use.

Noire flipped the book open with numb fingers, eyes tracingthe letters with distant fondness as they read a passage their twin had ever socarefully underlined.

‘… Nothinggave her so much pleasure as to hear about the world above the sea. She madeher old grandmother tell her all she knew of the ships and of the towns, thepeople and the animals. To her it seemed most wonderful and beautiful to hearthat the flowers of the land should have fragrance, and not those below thesea; that the trees of the forest should be green; and that the fishes amongthe trees could sing so sweetly, that it was quite a pleasure to hear them. Hergrandmother called the little birds fishes, or she would not have understoodher; for she had never seen birds.

“When you have reached your fifteenth year,” said thegrandmother, “you will have permission to rise up out of the sea, to sit on therocks in the moonlight, while the great ships are sailing by; and then you willsee both forests and towns.”’

They scowled, heartsick as they read the passage again, thewords sliding through their mind and sticking in odd places, caught on thevestiges of too many emotions to count.

‘Nothing gaveher so much pleasure as to hear about the world above the sea.’

The whole situation was an impossible mess. Blanche was afool to try and save them. Noire didn’t need saving in the first place! They’dbeen fine and their friends, the ‘ruffians’, definitely would’ve met them atthe meeting place. They would’ve-

‘“When youhave reached your fifteenth year,” said the grandmother, “you will havepermission to rise up out of the sea-’

Everything would be fine. Noire could take their place onWillow’s ship and then find a way to sneak off at the earliest convenience. Shouldn’ttake more than a month, maybe two. Blanche could stay here in the meantime,where it was safe, and then-

‘When you havereached your fifteenth year-’

Noire swallowed and shut the book, breathing harshly asthey tucked it carefully back under the pillow. They strode over to their cotand sat down carefully, running a hand through their hair as the tears at laststarted to fall.

‘When thesisters rose, arm-in-arm, through the water in this way, their youngest sisterwould stand quite alone, looking after them, ready to cry, only that themermaids have no tears, and therefore they suffer more. “Oh, were I but fifteenyears old,” said she: “I know that I shall love the world up there, and all thepeople who live in it.”’

Five years ago…

Noire stood in the back of the crowd, the hood of theircloak pulled low over their face as they watched the proceedings from theshadows. In their hand they clutched a letter, the parchment rent with creasesfrom numerous rereadings. A stage had been erected near the port and the largeplaza that led out to the sea was filled to the brim with people from all walksof life.

Finding passage on a boat had been hard, and resulted inmaking some deals that would be difficult to slide out of later. Harder stillwas watching their beloved twin, so much taller now since the last they hadspoken, be sworn to the service of the aristocracy.

‘“But thinkagain,” said the witch; “for when once your shape has become like a humanbeing, you can no more be a mermaid. You will never return through the water toyour sisters, or to your father’s palace again; and if you do not win the loveof the prince, so that he is willing to forget his father and mother for yoursake, and to love you with his whole soul, and allow the priest to join yourhands that you may be man and wife, then you will never have an immortal soul.The first morning after he marries another your heart will break, and you willbecome foam on the crest of the waves.”’

Noire grimaced and turned away, ducking down a dark alleyand striding away from the chorus of cheering and jubilation. So what if a newcaptain had been added to the fleet? So what if they promised to clear the seasof the loathsome pirate scum that so frequently attacked merchant ships, weigheddown with the spoils of their rich masters.

“You see ‘em?” Amelie asked, seeming to slide out of theirshadow just one block away from the event.

“Yes, I did,” they replied, words clipped even as theyslowed down enough for her to walk beside them. They were annoyed that shewould even ask, but the irritation at her served as a welcome distraction fromthe agony that was swirling in their chest, attempting to claw up their throatin the moment they opened their mouth to continue, “You have a good time?”

Her answering grin was bright and she shook three largepurses at them gleefully. They blinked in surprise when she tossed one of themat their chest, barely managing to catch it.

“What-”

“It was pathetically obvious that you were too distractedduring the proceedings to actually do your job, so I took the liberty of liberating an extra for you,” she said, waving off their quizzical expression,“Oh, don’t look at me like that! You’d have done the same for me. Besides, Idon’t want to be weighed down if it comes to a matter of fight or flight.”

Noire snorted, rolling their eyes and tucking the heavycoin purse into their belt before tugging their cloak forward, obscuring itfrom view. “What about that third one?”

“Oh, you know,” she said vaguely, a fond smile on her lipsas she sighed, rolling a coin between her fingers in an impressive display ofidle dexterity, “Since we’re here, I might pay our favoriteapothecary-turned-blacksmith a visit.”

The grin they gave her was positively roguish. “Need to getsome grinding done? Perhaps you have a dent that needs some pounding,hm?” They received a punch to the arm for their teasing.

“More like ‘I need to get a new set of daggers because someone can’tseem to stay out of trouble for more than five minutes’,” she replied with asnort, using her one good eye to pin them with a glare, “What’s with you, huh?You convinced the captain this city would be ripe for the plunder - which,granted, it is thanks to this ceremony - just for the chance tosee your twin, and then you don’t even talk to them?”

Noire’s buoyant mood vanished immediately and they scowled,looking away from their companion and refusing to answer as they rounded acorner that took them closer to their destination. Against all their wishes, adeep, unceasing bitterness brewed within them, exceeded only by the love andanguish that existed in equal parts in their heart when they thought of theirtwin.

‘“Do you notlove me the best of them all?” the eyes of the little mermaid seemed to say,when he took her in his arms, and kissed her fair forehead.

“Yes, you are dear to me,” said the prince; “for you havethe best heart, and you are the most devoted to me; you are like a young maidenwhom I once saw, but whom I shall never meet again…”’

Now…

The storm raged, two ships locked in a deadly firefight asthe sea heaved and frothed around them, decks swaying in the maelstrom as waveafter wave pounded against each of the ships’ hulls, striking the wood like thefist of some angry god. The rain fell in a thick sheet - yet even that couldnot quell the fires that had spread across much of the aft, flames burningbrightly in the gloom.

In the middle of their own ship, deaf to the shouts and canon-firegoing off all around them, Noire stared at their twin. Blanche glared at themin equal parts poison and dismay, sword drawn and pointed at that chest. A thincut bled on their right cheek, matching the gash on Noire’s left shoulder.

“Reckless,” Blanche said coldly, “You always were.”

“Oh, do me a favor and find another pot’s shade to commenton,” Noire hissed, “I do so tire of you discussing mine, bouilloire.”

Blanche sneered at them, their ponytail swinging sluggishlydespite the fierce wind, bangs plastered to their face and ruining the effectof their venomous expression. Noire longed to walk over and embrace them, topush the unruly hair out of their eyes and kiss their cheek. They knew, ofcourse, that Blanche’s saber would find a new sheath between their ribs themoment they took their first step, so they refrained.

Their own blade already felt heavy in their hand, its edgestained with their twin’s blood.

‘“We havegiven our hair to the witch,” said they, “to obtain help for you, that you maynot die to-night. She has given us a knife: here it is, see it is very sharp.Before the sun rises you must plunge it into the heart of the prince; when thewarm blood falls upon your feet they will grow together again, and form into afish’s tail, and you will be once more a mermaid, and return to us to live outyour three hundred years before you die and change into the salty sea foam…”’

“Did you know?” Blanche asked, the two of them beginning tocircle one another again as another volley of cannon fire split the night, “Didyou attack this ship because you knew I was charged with defending it? That wewould be forced to fight?”

“Not everything I do revolves around you.”

Blanche tilted their head, a coy smile twitching on theirlips as they asked mockingly, “Doesn’t it?”

Caution fell away as Noire sprang at them with a growl,steel meeting steel as Blanche readily deflected the blow. They danced acrossthe slippery wood planks of the deck, retreating and attacking equal measure assalt water sloshed around their boots. Their swords met, metal ringing in theirears as they glared at one another, teeth bared in matching, feral grins, harshbreaths fanning each other’s faces in the few seconds they stood close beforethey broke apart.

Crashing against one another over and over again, likewaves on the beach.

Speaking of waves-

“Boss!”

Noire whirled away from their twin at Amelie’s scream, eyeswild, distantly registering the fact that Blanche’s second-in-command (What washer name? Andromeda? Anora? Oh, right, Annie.) had gotten the other’s attention in much thesame manner. They both became aware that everyone, men and women on both sides,were screaming in fear and rushing to one side of the deck.

Lighting split the sky, illuminating the darkness in a waythe fires could not, and Noire suddenly understood why - a colossal wavegreeted them, stretching almost, it seemed, to the heavens.

Their twin looked over at them, pale in the firelight,precious seconds wasted at Noire studied the sheer terror reflected in theirgreen eyes. They both scrambled to the mast, losing their footing as the shipbegan to tilt upward with the swell of dark water. Blanche reached it first,snagging a rope as the world truly began to turn at an outrageous angle, andNoire hastened to follow their lead.

People screamed as they were flung from the deck, boxes andcanons flying through the air and falling into the ocean. The twins hungsuspended in the air, almost perfectly parallel to the deck, and watched thesailors and pirates alike streak past and disappear into the night. The othership, the one Blanche had been tasked with defending, was too heavy to risewith the water and was rolled immediately, the sound of wood splinteringgroaning into the night and the mast collapsing with a harsh ‘crack’ asthe people onboard were thrown into the sea.

There was a horrifying ‘snap’, barely heardover the roar of the rain and the howling of the wind, and suddenly Noire wasfalling. Their descent was halted when an arm flashed out, catching theirforearm in a vice-like grip that very nearly ripped their arm out of socket.Blanche stared down at them, the strain evident in their expression at the shipcontinued to climb up the wall of water.

‘She bent downand kissed his fair brow, then looked at the sky on which the rosy dawn grewbrighter and brighter; then she glanced at the sharp knife, and again fixed hereyes on the prince, who whispered the name of his bride in his dreams.’

“Don’t-” Blanche gasped, trembling with the effort it tookto keep them anchored, “Don’t let go!”

“I-” Noire began, flinching when Blanche’s storm-soakedrope also began to fray, eyes wide even as another flash of lightning revealedthe crest of the monstrous wave just moments before it crashed into the side ofthe ship. Their twin let out a harsh scream of agony, the motion jostling themas they help each other tightly.

The rope would not hold them both, Noire realized, a coldfeeling dread washing over them as they dangled helplessly in the air.Accepting it as truth came easily, after that. They stared up at their twin,blinking the rain out of their eyes so they could take in all the details.Then, inhaling deeply, they reached up to tug the leather cord around theirneck off before prying Blanche’s hand away from their forearm.

‘She was inhis thoughts, and the knife trembled in the hand of the little mermaid: thenshe flung it far away from her into the waves; the water turned red where itfell, and the drops that spurted up looked like blood.’

“Noire!” Blanche cried, struggling as best they could, therope fraying further, “Stop! What are you doing?! You can’t-”

Noire pressed the pendant into their twin’s palm, anembossed raven and dove circling each other glittering in burnished gold,smiling bitterly up at them. “Live well, mon petit chou. If Icould be so lucky, I would wish to be reborn with you again someday.”

Then, they let go.

“NOIRE!”

‘She cast onemore lingering, half-fainting glance at the prince, and then threw herself fromthe ship into the sea, and thought her body was dissolving into foam.’

They felt something break the moment their back hit thedark water below, paralyzed for a moment before the pain, before the panic, setin and they began to flail instinctively. Where was the surface? There was nolight, no sound, only cold darkness all around them. Noire felt something brushagainst them and jerked away, able to make out the faint shape of a corpsedrifting down alongside them.

Their vision blurred, saltwater stinging their eyes as theycontinued to look around wildly, heart hammering in their chest as theyselfishly continued to search for even the smallest speck of light. They didn’tstop until their limbs refused to move, chest burning with spent breath. Theirtears mixed with the water around them.

For all their sacrifice, they weren’t even sure Blanchewould survive the storm long enough to hate them for it. A bitter hopeflickered in their heart, the edges of their vision going darker still than thewater around them, heart pounding in their chest and mind. It could almost becalled a song, though the voice they thought they heard was not one thatrecognized.

They very nearly wished they could throw away theirprevious life and all their numerous mistakes so as to not be burdened by it intheir last moments. Yet, in the same vein, they would not trade a single memorywith their beloved twin, not even for all the riches in the world.

Noire closed their eyes, clutching their chest as the lastof their air escaped their lips, and embraced death…

Not yet…

The first sensation that returned to them was one ofannoyance. A fitting choice, given their personality. Everything was too loud,too bright, and the urge to relocate the soothing dark silence from before wasstrong. They could hear the whooshing of something nearby, a soft, wetrustling, and there was a bothersome warmth blossoming, too hot, against theireyelids.

Something brushed against their foot, a cautious touch.They groaned, mumbling under their breath as they moved their leg up and away.There was a pause, then the touching continued, firmer this time and with moreobvious curiosity.

“Amelie,” they growled, throat raw, “I swear to-”

“Who’s Amelie?”

Noire’s eyes shot up at the unfamiliar voice, quicklylooking down their body to see an equally unfamiliar man who was currentlymessing with their feet. He met their eyes and smiled. They let out a loudshriek and kicked at him, scrambling back along the sand. There was a sharppain in their palm as they scraped across some rocks, but they could care less.In fact, they grabbed a few and started chucking them in the stranger’sdirection.

“Hey!” cried the blond, ducking away from the rocks, “Easy!I’m not gonna eat you!”

“Who are you?!” they demanded, hoisting a larger rock asthey attempted to stand, “Where the fuck are we? Why do you… have a…”

“A tail?” the man supplied helpfully, lifting said tail outof the water so they could see it better. The day was obnoxiously bright (astriking contrast to the last scene of their memories), and the sunlight caughton the golden scales, making them glimmer and shine like freshly-minted coins.

The rock dropped out of their hand.

“It’s finally happened,” Noire murmured, weak legs fallingout from underneath them, “I’ve finally lost all my senses.” They stared at themermaid (merman?), tongue flicking out to moisten their lips when he threw hishead back and laughed. It was a sonorous sound, bright with mirth, like waterfalling on crystal before echoing in a cave. Then he closed his mouth, theworld fell into mundane silence once more, and Noire felt the sadness of afading dream.

“You’re an interesting human,” he said, smiling at them,his sharp teeth also gleaming in the sunlight, “I’m glad I pulled you from thatwreckage.”

“Wait, you did what now?” Noire asked, sitting straighter.

The merman looked at them like they were stupid. Theydidn’t appreciate that very much.

“I saw you and that other human dangling from that shipwhen the wave came,” he said, propping his chin up with a hand, his golden tailflicking as he spoke, “Then you let go. Man, was I surprised when you did that!I thought plunder-humans were supposed to be greedy!”

The first part of his statement made something tickle theback of their mind, but as they chased the thought, the memory, it slippedaway. “Plunder-humans?” Noire mumbled, snorting and waving a hand, “Oh, youmean pirates. To be fair, I’m incrediblygreedy even by those standards.”Their lips turned up in a familiar smirk, pride they didn’t know they possessedfilling them.

“Oh, really? But you sacrificed yourself for that other onethat you’d been trying to stab a few moments before!”

“I…” The tickling came back, a grey white noise thatconsumed their thoughts and made their head throb, their eyes unfocusingbriefly. When they shook themselves out of it, the merman was staring at themintensely. His blue eyes, blue as the sea, shone gold for a moment and hecocked his head.

“Oh,” he said simply, “Some spirit fucked you up good.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Noire snapped,spine rigid.

The merman’s lips twitched. “You were comparing somethingin your last moments, huh?” he said, voice lilting, almost a tease, “Someonemust’ve heard you-”

‘… would nottrade a single memory with their beloved twin, not even for all the riches inthe world…’

“-and decided to make a deal,” The merman blinked, wavinghis fingers at them, golden webbing connecting each clawed digit to itssiblings. “A human life is greater than its weight in gold, or so I’ve beentold. What you’ve traded away must’ve been incredibly important to you, though.Sorry for your loss, I guess?”

Sweat beaded on Noire’s brow, the chilled kind that usuallyonly accompanied nightmares. They could feel it - a piece was missing fromthem. It was as though a huge chunk of their life, of their very soul, had beencarved out and they were left with nothing but the barest hint of what itcould’ve been. They struggled with the loss, clinging to the vague impressionson the periphery of their mind, but the practice did nothing but make theirhead swim.

They could recall some things - their crewmates, theirpersonality traits, the fact they had been born poor and lived even pooreruntil the day they joined a pirate crew. But why had they joined the JollyRockets? Why had they done any of the things in their life? There was a reason forthem becoming a sea scourge, they just knew it, and it had something to do with—

A smile– a laugh– a name– an emotion sostrong and twisted it wrenched a sob from their throat. But, just as quickly asthey felt it, as they stood on the precipice of remembering, everything slippedthrough their fingers like sand being stolen by the tide.

They were suddenly very aware of the huge, gaping hole intheir life, the edges of which were sharp enough to cut them to the core.

“Fuck,” they said eloquently, clutching their head, “Fuck!”

“Go on, let it all out,” the merman said blithely, eyeshalf closed as he made himself comfortable on the sand, looking all the worldlike he intended to waste the day away sunbathing in that very spot, “I’ll behere when you’re done throwing a hissy fit.” He even yawned, pointed teethflashing brightly before he smothered the noise with a hand.

They opened their eyes and glared at him, pointing a fingerangrily. “You!” they said, all but crawling toward him, “You are going to helpme remember!”

“And why should I do that?” he said, shifting slightly asthey approached.

Noire floundered for a moment then rallied. “I’minteresting, remember?” they said, waving a hand, “But not half asinteresting as I was when I had all my memories.” The merman perked up at that,and they smothered a wry grin. They had a hook, now it was time to reel him in(and, yes, the puns were absolutely necessary). “From what little I can recall,I was pretty great.”

“Yeah?” he said, tilting his head. “How great?”

“The kind of greatness that gets put into books and sentall over the world!” they exclaimed, “I’ll bet stories of me and my crew havebeen translated into hundreds of languages by now!”

“Hey, wait, I know that word!” the merman said, sitting upwith a bright smile, “‘Books’! I’ve heard about those, but I’ve never actuallyseen any before. They don’t fare too well in the ocean, I guess. You humans putyour stories in them, right?”

Noire blinked at him dumbly. “Well,” they said, bemused,“Yes.”

“And you can read them? Books, I mean.”

“Do I look like an idiot?” they snapped, continuing beforehe could reply, “Yes, I can read. I’ve read tons of stories over theyears.” A memory - or, rather, the lack of one - teased them for a moment, andthey were left with the vaguest impression of a small fire crackling in a dustyplace.

“Great!” he said, scooting over to flop the majority of hishuman half into their lap, “Tell me a story, human.”

“My name is Noire,” they said, shoving him, surprised byhow cool and heavy he turned out to be, “And get the fuck off of me!”

The merman pouted up at them and threw his arms aroundtheir waist like a clingy child. “Aw, come on, Noire!” he whined, tail flingingwater onto them both as he wiggled in dissatisfaction, “I wanna hear somehumantales! None of my friends ever get anything good from the sailors on thedocks - only stuff about how difficult it is to fuck females when they wear somany ‘petticoats’ and ‘corsets’.”

Noire grimaced, angry barb dying on their tongue as athought occurred. “Okay, I’ll tell you a couple of stories-”

“Yay!”

“If you agree to help me get my memories back. Youcan, right?”

He studied them for a moment, a true frown marring hisfeatures. “Well, yeah, I can get them back. Might take a bit to track down thespirit that took ‘em, but… why do you want them back so bad?” he asked, browsfurrowed, “Maybe you’re better off without them.”

“No.” The word slipped out without a thought, but itwas the conviction that startled them both. Noire cleared their throat andcontinued. “No, I think… I think I want to be whole again. I want to find myother half.” An image surfaced in their mind, hazy and disjointed, but theythought they could make out the figures of two birds circling each other.

The merman looked up at them curiously, tail flickinglazily in the surf. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated, “I’ll help you get your preciousmemories back.” He tugged himself further into their lap, sprawling over themin an outrageously inappropriate amount of familiarity. “But your storiesbetter include me in them. I want a star role!”

“Wait, I thought you wanted, uh, humantales.”

He waved a hand, getting comfortable. “I changed my mind! Idon’t want to know about your life in bits and pieces - you can tell me about that when we get you memories back. Fornow, tell me a story.”

“A story for my memories,” they mumbled, letting out a softhuff, “Somehow that doesn’t seem entirely fair, but I’m not going to complain.”

“Some things have more worth to other people,” the mermanpointed out.

They grunted and looked out across the shimmering waves,noting three islands off in the distance, large blobs on the horizon, each witha distinct shape. Glancing up, they saw seabirds cawing and fluttering about,feathers gleaming in the sunlight as they danced in the sky. There were legendsabout birds, just as there were tales about islands. Their lips twitched,recalling and combining bits and pieces of they could only half-remember,stitching them into a narrative.

“Okay,” Noire said, “I have your story: Do you see thoseislands over in that direction? Yes, those three. It’s said that three greatbirds live there, each with their own element that, if left untamed, would runrampant with destruction and the world would turn to ash. But, don’t be afraid.The birds listen to a master, a guardian bathed in silver moonlight that rulesthe oceans of this world. It’s said the guardian’s song soothes the souls ofall who hear it, and quells the fighting of the three birds who, at their core,wish to rule the world as their own. This, my scaled friend, is the story offour idiots the somehow got tangled up in this ancient mess…”

[chibiwriter]

Today I learned that I am the wife of both @blanchesparkcandela & @heaiaran 

[chibiwriter]

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This is from Holiday, Holinights:

“Those things will kill you.” Blanche intoned, looking down at them from the doorway.

Noire hated it when they did that.

“Do I look like I care?” they replied, snorting, “Besides, we both know it’d take a miracle for cigarettes to be my cause of death.”

Pain flashed across Blanche’s face. “If that’s how you choose to live, then I will not stop you,” they said, mouth flat with unhappy tension, “I just live in fear that the next call I get will be about you dying in a fire while you slept.”

Noire tipped their head back and laughed, smoke spilling out between their lips. “Is that so?”

“Among other things,” Blanche muttered, looking out into the night, “All it takes is a spark.”

They stepped closer, unconsciously, perhaps, and Noire took the liberty of putting an arm around their waist and tugging them closer, head resting against their ribs. Their twin stiffened, breath hissing when they inhaled, before they hesitantly put an arm around their shoulders.

(Ah, their heart hurt from how nostalgic this was.)

“A single spark and then - whoosh!” Noire finished, flicking the butt away. The two of them watched it - a little ember flying up, arching over the railing of Spark’s balcony and pausing to be haloed in the rising moon, before sinking down and out of sight.

They wondered if they were still talking about their smoking habits… if they ever had been.

I’m super proud of it because it’s one of the original bits of dialogue I planned for that fic that actually came out as I intended! 

The twins have such a unique and mutually strained relationship, and I can imagine that they very rarely have moments where they can actually be alone together and not want to beat the shit out of each other in less than a breath. They love each other very much, but time, circumstances, and general estrangement has forced their love to be tinged with bitterness - and yet they each cling to it, if not to each other, because it’s all they have left. It’s beautiful in its new fragility. They dance around saying they care because neither of them knows the extent to which the other does anymore and they’re both scared of admitting to it for fear of rejection or even confirmation that it’s become one-sided.

Just… I could go on and on about the tragedy of Noire and Blanche, but I think I’ll let Surfi have the honors. For a while, at least. :3c

[chibiwriter]

blanchesparkcandela replied to your post: 'This is it' | Spark

CHIBI IS RPING???? -SCREAMS- -SOBS- -DIES-

S-Shut up baka-waifu!!