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Adila!

You have a plan. It is a terrible plan, but it is a plan that has more of a chance of succeeding than most of the other plans. You need to get up this massive, achingly huge tree without being detected. Dragons are big and tend to be easily detected, but you are the TIME DRAGON, which is crucial for the success of this plan.

Step one: become kitten-sized, hop into Hornet's arms.
Step two: fast-forward to the part where you're standing on the top of Argossa with Hornet.
Step three: immediately find a place to hide and begin reconnaissance.
Step four: identify mission targets (Ourania, fellow princesses, Oberon) and proceed from there.

There is only one problem: you need Hornet to trust you enough to hold on and not let go while you propel both of you forwards through time. It's going to be disorienting and confusing, and if she drops you she risks being lost in the time vortex. You could leave her behind, but you might as well toss her directly to the Garthim to save time if you do that.

This is complicated by the fact that Hornet has gone completely non-verbal, and is huddled with her arms around her knees and her head hidden behind them. What do you say to her, Adila?

***

Kazelia!

You didn't see the moth until it was too late. And now you're stuck inside the Tormenting Puzzle-Box of Val Odroon.

This is your first time inside of it, actually! After what happened to Asteria, you all learned that when Father started playing with the slats and interlocking mechanisms of the Puzzle-Box, it was time to stop playing games, immediately smarten up, and apologize for being bad girls. And now you know that it wasn't just an idle threat.

The insides of the box are covered in viciously barbed chains which suspend you in the air, contracting and slacking in turn to make sure you are never, ever in a comfortable position. The walls pulse orange and blue at random intervals, blasting you with unbearable heat and cold in turn, making you sweat profusely and then freezing it solid, only to melt it again moments later. Your hair is a mess.

But it's even worse for someone with fur. And while you're currently turned away from Shiva, you can't not hear the frantic whinnies and brays.

And the worst part? There's no escape. Once the box is shut, only someone on the outside can open it. You have no idea how long you'll be in here. Maybe he'll toss you into a chest and even when your friends defeat him, he'll spitefully refuse to explain where you are or how to open the box. You're at your father's mercy, totally and completely.

And you dragged Kyouko along, which is secretly actually the worst part of all.

***

Alina!

"Not so strong now, are you?" Cassian is squeezing your cheeks together, as half a dozen Garthim strain to keep you from bursting free and throttling him. Your hair is in your eyes, you just know that after he finishes taunting you he's going to stuff his handkerchief in your mouth, and then he's going to take you to his father. But all of that? That's okay.

You're the distraction.

Because as the Garthim seized you, as the darkness fell over you... you saw, deep and far away, a flash of coral pink.

Rita is safe. You have to believe that. If there's one princess who's not you who'd do anything for her...

"Nasty little brat, aren't you?" Cassian nods your head up and down and you drag the Garthim on your left side half an inch, which makes him flinch. Maybe just a little throttling...
Ailee, Lucien!

The strike of the bartender’s open palm on the countertop is very controlled. “There aren’t many laws here,” he says, and someone like Jackdaw would perk up at the way he enunciated that word, chose it over rules, would ferret at the implications until they unfolded into a possibility. “But we kill rats.”

The terrier sulkily whines and drops back down onto the floor, circling the both of you, clearly still wanting to bite and tear and hunt, but it can’t. It’s a good dog(?). A good dog(?) controls itself.

“And you,” he says, pointing an accusatory webbed finger at you, Ailee, “are a rat. A tall one, a magic one, but a rat none the same.”

“Here to sneak your friends into the food?”
“Here to poison our water?”
“She’s a new sort. They finally figured out how to be like us.”
“She’s the Arch Mage, you foam.”
“Those eyes...”

“So go back and tell your masters,” the bartender says, nestling a crutch under one arm and pulling himself up, “that there’s nothing here for them.

***

Coleman, Jackdaw!

You get what you need at a significant discount, Coleman! These folks want you to be on your way as quickly as possible. It shouldn’t be any trouble at all to assemble a rudimentary barge out of what’s available, and then waterproof Sasha on top of that.

Pay a price, Coleman, seeing as you’re doing this the proper and civilized way, and offering up proper trade. Listen to Sasha’s contented rumble as you take the soft way through.

Jackdaw, as soon as you pocket it, from a wagon just a way over you hear, faint but distinct, the command to control yourself. How does she know?? Does she have eyes on the back of her head?

Decision time, Jacks. Add something to your collection that might be just the word you’ll one day need, or buckle under Ailee’s overbearing demands?
Adila!

You crash down onto the roots, clinging Hornet tightly to your chest. Your ears are ringing, full of destruction and the not-sound of that terrible explosion, and there's for a moment nothing to see when you turn back and look at the sea, just inky shadows covering up the collapse, blotting out everything. No, wait, you do see something, as your eyes start to cut through even that magical night: the ink-black shells of the Garthim sliding into the water. If anyone else survived... they'll soon be in Oberon's hands. But you haven't been noticed.

Or at least you haven't yet. That'll change if Hornet starts crying, which she is threatening to do, sniffling and gasping with a hoarse throat, tucking her knees up to her chest and slowly rocking back and forth. "I didn't mean to do it," she whimpers.

Oh. Hornet.

***

Kazelia!

The ruin of the ship's fall is choked with darkness. Only Adila could have a chance of seeing what's going on. You were lucky to get out when you did; if you dived back in now, you'd end up running into a bulkhead or a splintered crate face-first.

You turn back, and see Kyouko pressed up against the overhang of the stairs, giving you a Look. A very intense Look. And you see why: because the Garthim haven't noticed her yet. These things... the only weapon you had that could have pierced their awful shells was broken by Eska. Fighting them is useless; if they get their claws on you, you're as good as a prisoner.

You have Shiva, you have a hidden fox, and you know that these things are being directed by someone. Maybe, just maybe, if you can find their controller... you can save your friends. Or at least stop your Father from ordering them to drown your friends. Which he has almost certainly done.



***

Alina!

The Garthim are drawn to you. Perhaps they see your light? The debris falls on you; an entire couch, the ship's wheel, Azora's luggage. But you burn golden.

Rita is gone. Everyone is gone. Adila is gone. Kazelia is gone. You are alone.

Oberon has taken everything from you.

But you burn golden.

Do you let that fire die, drowned in despair? Or do you embrace it and fan it into an inferno of fury?
Storytime!

Back around breakfast I figured out that today wasn't just an ordinary day! There I was, shoveling rice and egg and natto into this perfect chattering mouth, and it hit me that today was going to be the day I figured out what exactly the GLASS DRAGON was. Those two words just popped into my head! Glass. Dragon. Like, I know I've heard the words around before, or maybe I just thought I did? You have to remember that I was eating at home, and home's really, really weird, because I live in the family shrine, which isn't a collection of buildings like most shrines are but is made out of what used to be an old Jotun building back when they lived here instead of people, which is why the ceilings are so high and there are so many corridors and you can get lost in there if you aren't paying attention, but really all you need to do is follow the cats because even if they don't lead you out at least they won't lead you into any real danger, because cats might be mean sometimes but deep down even the most cranky of tomcats doesn't want to see you get really hurt because, well, then who's going to open the canned tuna and plop it down in the bowl? Well, other than me, I mean, but cats tend to lump "people with thumbs" all together. Like, the way people just think about "cats" and they don't distinguish between different breeds and personalities unless that cat's really important to them? That's how cats feel about people, we're all just a bunch of dumb hairless talls with thumbs, except for me and my family, because we're the people that the cats own, except we also own the cats, but they definitely own us, so maybe it's like a double ownership thing? That's weird. If two people own each other, who gets to give the orders? Because you can just order someone not to give you an order. I guess it'd work like me and the cats, which is to say that we care about each other and just generally try to pay attention to what we're doing.

Anyway, Glass Dragons! You'd think that all that glass would make them really fragile, but, nah, that's not the way I see it. These are thick panes of stained glass, the most durable of all glasses, except for the safety glasses that they wear down at the Hayashi shrine while they're working on hot glass. Each scale's its own perfect pane! And then in its guts it's got this roiling molten glass gunk that it can puke on people instead of breathing fire, which makes it ultra super dangerous, because at least you can put out fire, but if you got the glass on you it'd meld with your skin and maybe then the dragon would be able to control your tormented zombie body to use as a minion with thumbs. Also it'd be able to shoot lasers out of its eyes by aligning the glass inside just perfectly, and letting the light zap out!

But Rinley, you may ask, but Rinley, I can't help but notice that we are not currently suffering under the iron boot of a dragonocracy. And the reason for that is simple! Like all super OP villains, the glass dragon had a weakness of some sort that made it explode, boom, pssssh, just like in that one episode of She-Ra! But because it's been so long since the glass dragon was around, that weakness has been lost, and now if someone who's smart and brave and incredible doesn't figure out what it was, then what will we do if the glass dragon ever comes back and starts shooting people with its eye lasers and then vomiting hot gunk all over them? We'll be toast! And glass zombies! And before you say of course the glass dragon isn't going to come back, isn't that exactly what you'd want people to think if you were a glass dragon? Think about it! Think about it.

So I am out here by the creek trying to figure out how exactly I'm going to figure out what the glass dragon's weakness was. Because, like, maybe it got written down at some point? But it must have been so boring that nobody ever included it when telling stories about it blowing up or melting or however it actually got beaten, I don't remember how that part went. I could break into Professor Hayashi's Archive again. Yeah, you heard me. I'm a seasoned criminal. I've got the place cased. Just walk in through the front door? Ha! That's what she wants you to do. That's why I know every window that doesn't close right, every one of the patrol routes and bathroom breaks, and the blind spots where you can hide from detection while you shovel your way through books that don't even have pictures or narratives, like, okay, I'm not a kid, I know that not all books are going to have both, but if you don't have either then you might as well just be like a school textbook, and I'm not here to learn, I'm here to figure out how to blow up and/or melt glass dragons. But, as I just mentioned, half the books in the Archive are boring hot garbage and the other half are mislabeled or misplaced or make Professor Hayashi go white as a sheet when she notices that I'm reading them, and, like, I'm not a kid, I know what dicks look like, I literally was reading that one because I wanted to get to the part where it explained where the chakra points were and how to punch them to make people explode just in case I ever ended up being given an amulet by a dying man on the beach and then suddenly the FBI's after me and I need to punch them in the chakras.

Or I could do something Rinley would have done. Which is what I'm trying to figure out. Would he have cracked open a nut and had a note fall out, written by the glassmaker who made the scales, saying that there was one scale right on his belly that was flawed and brittle? Or would he have been trying to grab a fish out of the water for dinner, when one stuck its head up and told him to listen up, because this was going to repay him in advance for saving the life of the Fish Princess? Except I don't have any fish in the creek today except for the teeny tiny ones that are fun to catch with a net, and the only thing in these nuts are snacks. And a wasp, weirdly. I have no idea how that got in the nut.
Storytime!



Rinley Yatskaya, The Troublemaker!
Academics Skill: Good!
Sports Skill: Exceptional!
Favorite Foods: Fish! Sea monsters! Fried tofu! Red bean dumplings!
Blood Type: O-.
Animal: Fox! Like, duuuuuh.

Rinley is a GIRL who is part of the YATSKAYA FAMILY! She's THE SAME AGE as you all, and ALSO A FOX.
Her favorite scenes are...
...getting into mischief!
...spying on people!
...poking around and exploring new places!
...and trying to figure out new impossible things to do, and how to do them!



Emotion XP: “RINLEY NO”
For when you...
...declare that you have a GREAT plan, or
...pop up in the middle of somebody’s business to make things about you, or
...make yourself vulnerable to something or someone that is obviously going to hurt you in the end, or
...when you make a terrible pun and then pull a smug or overly innocent face, or
...when you start booking it after having done Something.
It’s like having a younger sibling who likes to get into mischief, or a pet cat. A lot like having a pet cat, actually.

Connections!
The Yatskayas 2
Prince Eduard 2
Dulcinea 1
Jasper 1
Mila 1

Skills!
Storytelling 2
Legends 1
Fox [Perception] Magic 2
Cat-Speaker 2
Superior Dreamer 1

Powers!
  • I can travel anywhere if I set my mind to it, and always have some extra Adventurer's Allowance!
  • I know when bad things are happening to wishes and dreams; like if the Headmaster of the Bleak Academy decided to make it impossible to wish for anything, I'd know all about it before he even finished the thought!
  • I can make ideas really plausible or implausible, just by wanting them to be like that!
  • I can tell when other people are chasing their dreams, and when people are going to be important to my story!
  • I can talk directly to people's wishing hearts, and have a... heart-to-heart~
  • I can make people's dreams easier to reach, and also make the consequences of not chasing after them really scary! >:3c
  • I can do impossible stuff on-camera if I really push myself, though usually I just do it off-camera and tell you all about it later.
  • I can attract wish spirits if I really push myself!
  • I can make wishes fail and crash if I need to, though it gives me the worst headache. >____<
  • If I think really really really hard I can usually remember something a little extra about any story at all!
  • If I use aaaaaaaaaall the power in my wishing heart, I can do stuff like change people's destinies or swap their bodies around like Freaky Friday!
  • Also, I always look like me. Like the me I really want to be! What with my gorgeous flower crown that's always in bloom, and my white blouse with the fancy lace and the long poofy sleeves, and my red swishy pants with the hole for my tail!
  • Also also, I have some fox magic! I am super good at seeing and hearing and smelling things, I can always slip right out of being tied up so don't even try, and I usually know where dogs are, especially the small yappy dogs that jump on your legs and bark so much. If I push a little, I can do fun things like making my voice sound like wind or coins or fire, or making people who aren't paying attention see and hear the stuff I want them to! Though usually I just end up entertaining myself and not really doing anything useful, doing stuff like that.
  • Also also also, I can talk to cats! They don't really talk back, but they do know what I'm saying and understand me and sometimes I can even talk them into doing things for me or warning me about things, though if they knew I was friends with Prince Eduard, they'd probably be really mad at me, right? And I'm just really cat-like, super great at acrobatics and stunts and looking like I actually meant to fall down the stairs, so there.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME??”

Sara puts her hands on her hips and offers the death glare to end all death glares. Smoke curls off of her in languorous helixes (the suit jacket that made the final cut made “smoky grey” very, very literal). The pins pushed through her bun are the splash of color, both of them made of stained glass, in a nod to her superhero aesthetic, while everything else is “dapper duchess of Hell,” from the lace gloves to the sleek black Oxfords. She’s the fallen angel made good, even at her own wedding.

“Do you have any idea how little I need this right now? Put those guns down, you little—“

She stops, smooths down her hair, takes a deep breath. Count to five. Think about Euna’s smile.

“Hey, sorry,” she starts again. “I get the gesture, I didn’t mean to lose my cool. Thanks for showing up, Dommy, I was worried when you didn’t RSVP. It’s a little late for this, though; you really should have done the whole fake kidnapping shtick at my bachelorette’s.”
Lucien!

The creature comes to a halt bare centimeters from your ankle, still slavering. It then puts its paws firmly on your trousers and starts clawing its way up you, sniffling and snuffling. From this distance, you can see that it’s as hairy as a mop, and has at least six gripping limbs. And, for that matter, a pointed nose like a weasel. And teeth like a saw. If it decides to clamp down on somewhere sensitive, you’re in danger of losing it for good.

The patrons are staring grimly at you with those pale, bulging eyes, and it doesn’t take you long to realize why. Behind the bar is a pinboard covered in pale red rat tails. (Some of them bear delicate scales, like that of a lizard.) This creature is a ratter, whatever it is. And the smell of Ailee is driving it wild. You’ve got very little time in order to convince the proprietor that Ailee is not a rat, that the ratter should please be called off, and that you require help removing it from your person because it’s just been enchanted, before it decides to sink its teeth into the seat of your trousers, or worse.

***

Ailee!

Fascinating, isn’t it? Maybe if you wait, you’ll find out more about what this thing does when it’s curious about something.

***

Coleman!

The Flood pulls machinery off walls and tears down ruins and eats everything in its path. That means the junk’s materials of the Heart, touched by the Flood, useful for all sorts of things. Most practically, since you don’t want someone to fall achingly in love with an unattainable ideal or drown on their own spit, is that by sympathy you might be able to trick the Flood into thinking Sasha’s already part of her, or one of her worshippers. Adorn her in nets and set her out on a barge, and you might get through without any trouble.

As for the Beasts? This is a lull period for them; most are gathered to drink, with some careful sentries perched on their wagons or cleaning junk or drawing up their nets. By and large they’ve been marked by the flood, most looking like overgrown catfish or frogs, no matter what sort of critter they used to be; their horns are small nubs or coral-like prongs. The Powers of the Heart don’t much care for stagnation in the face of their overwhelming nature.

Meekness is the wrong approach; they’ll assume you want to join them as a petitioner. Polite assertion; make clear you mean to pass through, having given and taken in equal measure.

***

Jackdaw!

The word is market.

Each net belongs to a Beast. This means that each Beast interested in barter has a stall connected to their wagon. Ring the bell and summon the proprietor if you want to make a deal.

As for what’s hidden... well, certain wagons have more than one purpose! That big, oval one, for example: that’s a communal tavern. That one with a cog and hammer hung over the door: that’s a tinker-den. That warped and water-soaked one: that’s a shrine to the Flood, and outside it are strips of paper and pages nailed to the slats and skinned spines hung like gruesome trophies, their lettering washed away.

There’s got to be something left, right? Because otherwise this is just a horrid waste of paper and intention and words. You causally sidle away from Sasha and start pawing through ruined pages, and soon enough you’re noticing the pattern. The intentional streaking of ink. The swirling coils. The dreadful dark.

You are loved. You are alone. Come to my arms. Fill your pockets and come as you are.

In me the drowned are loved forever.


It doesn’t make you take leave of your senses, but it hooks in you and won’t leave. In me the drowned are loved forever. The water caresses the shore, lying against the stones like a lover. In me the drowned are loved forever. You ache with the need to be held, to be in Her embrace, to slough away worries and flesh and loneliness—

A bead of water drops on your nose, making you squeak. The pages are dizzying to look at now.
POTENTIAL 2

Sara shrieks with laughter, doubling over and making high nasal squeaks and generally being ridiculous, before straightening up and fixing Locker with a dangerous, unhinged look.

“How dare you imitate me, you pathetic wannabe,” she sneers. “I already know what I’m going to do: I’m going to pretend I’m the fusion of Jack the Ripper and Moriarty, and do my best to try and make you stab yourself with my mind. Because I’m from the edge dimension where our outfits have to be black, spiky, and horrifically overwrought. Now I’m going to kill you.”

And she grabs him and pulls him in for an edgy, merciless noogie.
Adila!

The engine room is filled with more gold. The engine that keeps you afloat is a huge, sprawling, hulking thing, made by goblin artifice, bound with the magic of the winds, and then decorated by Jedadi sensibilities; the levers and runes are so bejeweled, an enterprising thief could get away with stripping it down and then live like a queen for the rest of her life. And it's here that you find Hornet, wearing a simple leather apron and her goggles, disassembling the engine. She's got her tools spread out on the floor, her spiky hair covered by a handkerchief, and her arms are elbow-deep in the mechanisms as she tries to... well, presumably improve it. Or add a turbo mode. Or make it powered by applause. Who ever knows what Hornet's thinking?

When you enter, she stiffens, but doesn't otherwise acknowledge you. She picks up a wrench and starts loosening a bolt holding a panel over the crystal matrix, her cow-tail agitatedly twitching. And that's it. Grim silence. Not even an invitation to BEHOLD, or a victorious cackle, or a request to hold one of her tools for her. Maybe it's because she knows she was caught in the act of messing with the thing keeping you up in the air while you're up in the air.

She defiantly pulls the panel off and shoves it at you.

***

Alina!

"When we get married, do you think we'll do the summer-and-winter?" Rita can't even look at you when she says it. She's got her little hands in her lap and her cheeks are red and she's studying the window so, so intently. And her question... she's suggesting an old tradition for married queens. Summer in one kingdom, winter in the other. But how she says it! Like it's not even a question that you're going to get married. Of course you are. Of course you are. "Because, um, I know you always liked summer back home, and I love seeing Ilumina in the snow, and... and I do need to go home, but... mew!"

She shrinks in on herself and becomes a beautiful, sleek cat again, and wiggles into the blankets on the bed, all of her courage used up in the question. In a moment, only her twitching tail is visible. It's so cute. But you're already trying not to melt on the spot, aren't you?

You're already imagining waking up on a balmy summer morning with incense hanging in the air, in that Askaian glow which suggests your dreams will come true before your very eyes, holding your Rita in your arms as you lie on a bamboo mat together. You're imagining snowball fights with your wife in a proper Iluminan winter, and any memories of the Rider occupation would be soothed by her laughter and the sight of her bundled up in a giant poofy coat. You're imagining proposing, right here, right now. Aren't you?

***

Kazelia!

"It would be a shame to waste your father's wedding preparations, you know." Kyouko's suddenly there, smiling so smugly. She wraps her tail around your forearms and taps her fan underneath your chin. "How would you like to be married by the High Queen herself? I'll show you the glories of a Konkon wedding: how you'll hop so gracefully down the aisle, how the High Queen will look so radiant in her harness, how you'll be prodded by the traditional bamboo spears, how I'll shower you in cherry blossoms after you're asked if you'll submit to me in happiness and misfortune alike and you nod your agreement..." She laughs, holding one hand up to the side of her mouth, and it's hard to tell whether she's just trying to get a rise out of you, flirting in her people's way, or actually proposing.

That's when you notice the figure standing on the tea platform at the very top of Argossa. You jerk the wheel desperately to one side, knowing that it's already too late. This thing maneuvers like a lazy cow, and all of your maneuvers have to be planned well in advance. It's already useless. Which means you need to get Azora to do something. Or announce it over the ship's speakers so that everyone has a chance to brace themselves.

He's supposed to be preparing the wedding!

***

Oberon.

The wind kisses your hair as you stand beneath the storm. Your storm; you conjured it up using the Seven-Tempest Horn. The sun and moon will not be interrupting your wedding to your beautiful beloved, and neither will these frustrating princesses. At every turn they defy you and tie your plans in knots, and you are tired of indulging them. Coddling them. Letting them remain unpunished for their misbehavior.

You draw back the string of Blinding, and the eclipse-bow groans terribly. Even this terrible weapon cannot withstand your titanic strength, stolen from the Grandmothers of Devilhome. You will have to strike true; you will only have the one shot. Already, the pilot is attempting to turn aside, but it's useless. You are Oberon Greymane, the Hunter in the Dark, the King of the Riders, immortal and invulnerable, new king of this pathetic world.

You let fly, and Blinding splinters into a dozen quivering pieces in your hands. The eclipse-shot howls out, and strikes the airship dead on; for a moment, there is a terrible thirsty silence, and then a vast explosion of hungry darkness undoes the ship, causing rips and rents in metal and fabric alike, unweaving every part of artifice, stunning those inside and taking their senses. Debris begins to fall, a confused cloud of raw materials and furnishings and limp bodies.

You turn, and proceed down the stairs. You will tell Cassian to have the constructs gather up any fortunate survivors, if there even are any. Knowing the luck of these wretched princesses, there will be. But even this will be for your glory.

After all, you still have room for bridesmaids in the ceremony.
I’ve been incubating this post since Wednesday
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