WIP AUs

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  • #119229
    Anonymous
      • Rank: Chosen One
      • Total Posts: 8156

      @godlyfantasy12 I SHOULD!!!!

      Not sure if that would work…with Leon and Riker being from the future…but then again…I don’t think they ever met…XD

      Maybe I’ll just leave regular timeline Leon and Riker…I don’t know…XD

      #119230
      GodlyFantasy12
      @godlyfantasy12
        • Rank: Chosen One
        • Total Posts: 6645

        YES I DO LUV REGULAR TIMINE RIKER u could still take out Leon if u wanted idk.

         

        plus it would be funny with Riker like-

         

         

        WAIT HOW ARE YOU OLDER NOVEMBER?!?! ARA?! JOCELYN?!) XD

        #IfMarcelDiesIRiot
        #ProtectMarcel
        #ProtectSeb

        #119231
        Anonymous
          • Rank: Chosen One
          • Total Posts: 8156

          @godlyfantasy12. Well…you see…it actually is…

          …Their Mother…

          Adah.

          Living on the deserted Island…

          …Adah is alone…

          …well…not completely.

          She has The Light and The Annointed One, who hold her and comfort her…

          …and slowly heal the hurt in her heart.

          You see…she never wanted to leave.

          She never wanted to leave her babies…

          …but she was forced to…

          …and that has haunted her for 16 years.

          Those were her babies…

          …and she had to leave them.

          Nothing else could hurt a mother more.

          And now…she lives on the deserted island…surviving by skill…

          …and mercy…

          …alone.

          But…someone does come to the island…

          …and it’s her brother-in-law…

          …and he’s on the hunt for her sons.

          He leaves when he realizes she hasn’t seen them for years…

          …but his words…his actions…stay in her mind…

          …and she knows…

          …that she has to do something…

          …she has to leave the island.

          She has to save her sons…

          …her babies…

          …before it’s too late.

          #119232
          GodlyFantasy12
          @godlyfantasy12
            • Rank: Chosen One
            • Total Posts: 6645

            @freedomwriter76 😭😭😭 SHE’S BEAUTIFUL!!! MY WORD FREEDOM WHY U DO THIS TO MEEEEE!!!

             

            But yes I am now just going to imagine them all reunited in the end as a family once more and the evil uncle and brothers and other family gets what they deserved and yes.

             

             

            and I shall also imagine the same for Erich.

            #IfMarcelDiesIRiot
            #ProtectMarcel
            #ProtectSeb

            #119233
            Anonymous
              • Rank: Chosen One
              • Total Posts: 8156

              @godlyfantasy12. That would be funny. XDXDXDXDXD

              Yeah, I may pull Leon out, and prob. all the others, except maybe Steve and Bucky, cause they may meet up with Wayne and Zayne and loopylin’s charries, but otherwise, I think I’m taking all the others out.

              EXCEPT Riker, bc I want him to see them older…plus…he’s my baby. ❤️❤️❤️

              #119234
              Anonymous
                • Rank: Chosen One
                • Total Posts: 8156

                @godlyfantasy12. Actually…I don’t know…WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF!?!?!?!? 😭😭😭

                Srsly, why!? XD

                Oh…trust me…the Uncle gets exactly what he deserves…for hunting down the boys…

                …oh…and…

                …well…

                 

                 

                 

                 

                 

                 

                 

                 

                 

                 

                hurting Riker and Erich too. 

                #119235
                GodlyFantasy12
                @godlyfantasy12
                  • Rank: Chosen One
                  • Total Posts: 6645

                  @freedomwriter76 😱

                   

                   

                  IT’S HANS?!?!??

                   

                   

                   

                  OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BOI…. *rolls up sleeves* IMMA GO BEAT HIM UP NOW….SCUZE ME XD

                  #IfMarcelDiesIRiot
                  #ProtectMarcel
                  #ProtectSeb

                  #119236
                  Anonymous
                    • Rank: Chosen One
                    • Total Posts: 8156

                    @godlyfantasy12. SURE IS!!! 😰😡

                     

                    WAIT!!!! YOU’LL NEED THESE!!!! *hands you a pair of sunglasses, and puts mine on* There…now we can beat him up…XDXDXDXD

                    #119238
                    Anonymous
                      • Rank: Chosen One
                      • Total Posts: 8156

                      @godlyfantasy12. Whoops, forgot her name was Adinah, not Adah, lol. XDXDXD I was CLOSE!!! XDXDXDXD All these characters are hard to keep up with, you get me? XD

                      #119240
                      Elishavet Elroi
                      @elishavet-pidyon
                        • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                        • Total Posts: 1105

                        @freedomwriter76

                        Oh, I love this new plot! And also how you are using elves as Jews. It’s soooo perfect.

                        (I hope that makes sense and isn’t weird. My sister and I are using elves in a half-allegorical way as children of Light and that belong to a better place.)


                        @godlyfantasy12

                        Oh, I like that! Honestly, the term “fire elf” reminds me of a series a friend of mine is writing where the MC is a half-elf with a special gift of fire.

                        Anyway, I like the way you have the different “races”. My mind is exploding with ideas. XD

                        You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan

                        #119241
                        Elishavet Elroi
                        @elishavet-pidyon
                          • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                          • Total Posts: 1105

                          @godlyfantasy12 @freedomwriter76

                          And is anyone ready to read the next chapters in The Institution? We have three more!

                          Chapter 2

                          Wilkins

                          Wilkins sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. None of the words on this page made sense. In fact, none of the pages in this book did either.

                          The sunlight glowing in the window panes had matured, then dimmed to near nothing as the clock drew near dinner hour, but still the lesson went on.

                          Completely unintelligible.

                          He bit the inside of his lip to keep his tears in check as the headmaster droned on in the strange tongue. Words which made no sense together, like shredded poems in the ashes.

                          Only, he was the line out of meter.

                          He sighed and flipped the page. The start of a headache drummed in his temples.

                          Finally, the clock chimed its blessed benediction.

                          “Déantar an lá. Bhí an oíche tagtha. Tá tú fós ag análú.

                          Day’s done…day’s done…day’s done…”

                          The boy beside him, Daithí, slapped their book shut as the room erupted at the first peal.

                          “Come, cara,” the Taisish word hissed by Wilkins’ ear in muted defiance. “Hot bread tonight!”

                          He stacked his books and slate, carefully stowing the small lead pencil, but his heart beat those words. Oh, how blessed are pleasant words in a far land.

                          Friend.

                          The boys all filed out into the hall in pretend order, abandoning their pretence as soon as their feet were pounding down the stairs and out across the courtyard. Even Wilkins ran, if only to keep sight of the Lasairren lad.

                          Daithí. The boy who spoke his tongue and challenged the headmaster with calculated stupidity. The only one here who knew Wilkins’ real name. The one that still fought.

                          They reached the far door in a breathless mob, each lad pressing for a place close to the hall door, as if an extra inch forward would sooner dissuade their hunger. All but a few in the back: either wise enough not to be crushed against the solid oak, or too sickly to join in the fun.

                          Wilkins climbed onto a window ledge a few paces from the mobbed door. The brick under his hands was still warm, having absorbed the last of the sunlight. A ruddy glow spilled over the court, slipping away behind the high walls.

                          He pressed his shoulder against the glass. Somewhere on the other side of these dusty panes waited hot toast and soup, maybe with a mug of weak coffee. Perhaps not much, but more than what he’d lived on back home, during the war.

                          Still.

                          He dragged his hand over his eyes and turned to slide down as the bell above the door began to ring. The double doors swung open, admitting them into a large chamber overflowing with row after row of narrow tables.

                          Feet followed feet in a winding line, first to the food board, then down rows of benches to seek an empty seat. Voices rose again, filling the hall in a cacophony of babel.

                          Wilkins at last set his plate down, squeezing between two other lads. Dark hair on his right, silver-gold high on his left.

                          Silver gold, the color of starlight over the Tais…

                          He stared at it, then slowly dropped his gaze to the face.

                          Two hollow green eyes watched him gravely, their mouth set in impassive silence. Wilkins tried to smile, but something about those eyes…

                          “Cad atá-” Wilkins cut himself off, trying to find the Proper words. “Eh…what you name?”

                          For a moment a flicker of mirth danced there, but crept away, back into shadow. The green eyes fell in shame.

                          “They call me Ethan.”

                          “O’. Me they call William.” He frowned, dropping his voice. “But be I Wilkins.”

                          The other boy smiled again, and stirred his soup absently. Wilkins lifted his own spoon.

                          Plink.

                          He looked up in time to see more tears fall into Ethan’s soup. The lad slowly pushed the untouched bowl away and leaned his head on his hand.

                          “You well?” Wilkins laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, but almost drew back at its chill.

                          “I’ll be better soon.” Ethan smiled. “Do you want my soup?”

                          “Nú, nú.”

                          Ethan turned on him, a curious desperation suddenly setting him alight. “My name began with an I. Remember my name had an I.”

                          Something in those eyes…that face. Chills spread up Wilkins’ arms.

                          “I remember.” He latched onto the lad’s long, slender hands, hard with work long past. “And I will never forget, God help me.”

                          Ethan relaxed slightly, even gave a soft laugh. “Never is too long a word, but thank you.”

                          “Call you Ivan until you remember?”

                          Ivan nodded.

                          “Now, Ivan, eat soup.”

                          Later, tucked away in the sleeping hall, a word echoed in Wilkins’ mind.

                          Remember…

                          Chapter 3

                          Inglor

                          How could he have forgotten his own name? He closed his eyes to look back into Memory, reaching, searching for what he couldn’t find.

                          Who am I?

                          The question echoed in his mind and fell into his heart.

                          He was… he was…

                          He stood and went to the window. The only window in the dormitory. If it hadn’t faced the East, he didn’t know what he would have done.

                          The East, the Home of Light. The place the sun always returned to, and like the sun, so would the Alve.

                          But now both were far away. He gazed deep into the blue darkness, leagues of a world lost in shadow.

                          And then – a star! Through the darkened clouds came a pinprick of light.

                          And with the star came his name.

                          Inglor Avelorion, son of Dior, child of the Morningstar. 

                          He rested his head against the sill, his eyes fastened to the light above. So far away…

                          And yet, as he stood there he felt hope kindle in his soul.

                          If I can just hold on.

                          Ominous footsteps behind him thrust his heart into his shoes. “Master Lloren. Go to bed before you’re marked for contrariness.”

                          Inglor ducked his head and hurried across the room to his place in the shadows. Once on his bed he looked back to the window, just a small slit in the wall. Not even the firelight reached this side.

                          He lay down and studied the ceiling. Stone and beams. Those two things were the world around him. Cold stone and dead wood.

                          No!

                          Grey and brown, grey and black. All was fading into night. No seed to die and rise again. No life remaining.

                          No.

                          In desperation he sat up and laid his hands over his eyes.

                          Please…

                          And he plunged into sweet Memory.

                          The beams above turned to living branches. The voices around him became songs of praise. His family, his friends. Green clothed the forest, where only bare floors had stood.

                          He stayed there, afraid to open his eyes, for once content to live in Memory. To never wake again.

                          Never wake.

                          Never stir.

                          Until he woke upon the dawning of the New Morning.

                          If I can just hold on.

                          “Do you have a headache?” Soft fingers touched his shoulder, scattering the light.

                          “No. Yes. Sorry.”

                          “Oh, you’re fine. Just wondering. At least we aren’t closer to the fire, you know? Then the light won’t hurt your eyes and make it worse.”

                          The Light would save them. But not just firelight, or lamplight.

                          For all his life he’d been told ‘the Holy Light was with you wherever you were’. And for all his life he’d believed it.

                          But now, in this place of darkness-

                          He still believed it.

                          But he’d never realized how hard the battle could be when there was nobody to fight alongside you.

                          Woe to one who walks alone, for when he falls there is none to help him.

                          None?

                          Yes, there was Someone.

                          He lay down under the scratchy blanket and tried to see past the rafters above.

                          If I can just.

                          Hold.

                          On.

                          But he was weary. And this was so very hard.

                          Help me. Please.

                           

                          Chapter 4

                          Daithí

                          The floorboards creaked, sending his nerves to high attention. Someone was coming. He slipped into the shadows before his presence was detected.

                          Crik, creeeak.

                          Slowly, the Wardmaster shuffled by. Last round of the night? Perhaps. It was about time.

                          Daithí crept from beneath the last bed and vanished through the door.

                          The hallway was dark at this time of night, full of curious calculations and odd angles.

                          Hmm…a door, with a dull brass knob.

                          What should be behind it?

                          A set of stairs begging to be climbed. He was awake, anyway, and the headmaster hated for his pupils to be idle. Why not answer the call?

                          The latch closed softly behind him, hardly loud enough to startle a mouse. Perfect silence followed his feet up into the winding shadows.

                          Why, who would have guessed that a window stood at the top? A small one, half open to let in the air.

                          He was out upon the roof in an instant and studying the world spread beneath him.

                          A rather dusty, dirty world, full of chipped brick and stone. Not a blade of grass in sight.

                          Daithí cursed under his breath.

                          It would be a short walk tonight; just a few roofs over and a quick climb down to another window.

                          Then back again, although he may have to pause a moment on the north roof to let the night watchman pass. No use disturbing the old fellow on his rounds; not when he had prowlers to watch for.

                          Daithí grinned and ran lightly away, over the tiles till they stopped. A short leap and he was on solid footing again. One point down.

                          The sky above him was slowly clearing, forcing him to dance in the shadows of the moon.

                          Of course it had to clear up just when he’d have liked a bit more cover. But then, he wasn’t used to having everything be given to him.

                          Tonight would be a challenge, but the plan would still work.

                          He paused at the last edge, then lowered himself to the tiles. With practiced ease he slid to hang by fingertips until his feet found leverage. The it was a spider-crawl from toehold to finger-hold and-

                          Well well, look where his feet had taken him; right into the headmaster’s window ledge.

                          The Headmaster would have been foolish to leave his window unlocked. Still, Daithí would check it.

                          They’d shown how bright they were when they enrolled a MacLasair into this prison. Not very.

                          He probed the panes with sensitive fingers.

                          Besides, what was a lock to someone who knew all the keys?

                          Not much.

                          He smiled, and stepped through the window.

                          Inside was an orderly room, perhaps set to rights in honor of its nocturnal patron. Even the papers on the desk were nicely arranged, although not containing anything interesting. Daithí put them back with a friendly pat.

                          What about the locked drawer? It eased open at his intreaty, revealing more paperwork. He rolled his eyes and bent to sift through the pages he’d read before.

                          Ah, what was this? A new letter? Why thank you! The rest of these had grown quite dull by this time.

                          The Headmaster of Their Excellencies’ institution of blah blah…already know that…not interesting.

                          He scrunched his nose and turned over the page.

                          A form, clearly stated to be filed into the log upon the student’s arrival.

                          Robert Shepherds

                          Born in Eirda

                          Sent to the Institution to be taught in the ways of The Realm. 

                          As if there could be any other reason. Daithí silently snorted and read on.

                          Arriving on the third day of the seventh month.

                          Tomorrow. Daithí folded the letter up and tucked it away with its fellows.

                          You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan

                          #119244
                          GodlyFantasy12
                          @godlyfantasy12
                            • Rank: Chosen One
                            • Total Posts: 6645

                            @elishavet-pidyon AGH I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!!

                            #IfMarcelDiesIRiot
                            #ProtectMarcel
                            #ProtectSeb

                            #119250
                            Anonymous
                              • Rank: Chosen One
                              • Total Posts: 8156

                              @elishavet-pidyon. Aww, thank you!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

                              (I know what you mean! Not weird at all! And hehe…that’s going to make Leon an elf too…which just makes the nobles, especially Hans, even more angry…oof. XD)

                              #119253
                              Elishavet Elroi
                              @elishavet-pidyon
                                • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                                • Total Posts: 1105

                                @freedomwriter76

                                You’re welcome!

                                (Good! Yes, it will, and that’s soooo awesome! Then his kids’ll be half-elven and… Oof, yeah they won’t be happy, but hey, who said they had to be? 😉 )

                                You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan

                                #119257
                                Anonymous
                                  • Rank: Chosen One
                                  • Total Posts: 8156

                                  @elishavet-pidyon. (Thank you! 😀 Yeah…they will be angry. But they don’t need to be happy. 😉 )

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