[fromage]

"Oh gosh, what's that?!" Piper exclaims as she stepped out of a portal with her creator, gazing upon a huge hurricane that seemed to be quite literally pulling chunks of terrain out. Everything seemed like it was falling apart, even pieces from countries over sped towards the hurricane from miles away. Even the natural disaster didn't look like normal kind, or natural. In response, Juno only sighed with a head shake as she fiddled with the device in her paws. This seemed to agitate the robot more as she watched a house get completely destroyed into multiple pieces.

"Okay well, Piper. This is alternate reality of what we have back in our homeworld, meaning the version of me here ended up in maximum security prison and you never got made. Frankie stayed dead. Sigmund won the war against his daughter and brought more despair. Yadda, yadda, list goes on. The point is, I tried adjusting couple of things. By adjusting I meant making the alternate version of me escape from prison, and resurrected Frankie. This is the result, the timeline trying to erase itself and reverse the changes I made. It seems a little extreme for couple of tiny changes if you ask me, but science." The scientist threw her arms up towards the hurricane with a wild smile pulling on her face as if she had intended for this to happen to discover something new.

"Speaking of which, we should get out of here if we want to stay alive." She announced as she opened up a new portal beneath them, easily falling through it to land on a mattress in the lab with Piper- wait. Juno got up, searching around for her partner, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen. The scientist looked down at her paws, planning on checking the device for information but found nothing as if the device never existed... wait a minute.

She ran over to the window, noticing the cracks in it first before looking out of it. The hurricane is still there, seemingly even bigger than a minute ago. Oh no. Oh no. Did the attempt to portal travel broke the timeline more and erased Piper out of existence? This isn't good, definitely not good.

The scientist hastily left the room that she noticed is in severe disrepair, and so is the rest of the house. A very familiar house. She allowed herself to wander the house for a while before realizing that this is her family's home. Wait a minute, theoretically alternate reality Juno should have demolished this house to build a lab after being released from prison... but what is she doing instead? Juno left the house, still trying to figure things out. She doesn't have her devices to teleport or literally anything else. Maybe she could make something out of scraps from the house but it wouldn't be enough for an item powerful enough. It would be enough for a pointless laser gun, maybe.

After deciding it was worthless to try to build something, as well standing around thinking, Juno started walking towards the hurricane. Maybe there would be answers if she got closer, even if being sucked in is the answer. Miles of walking, she took notice of other viscets vanishing into thin air, how seriously damaged the environment is. Sometimes moments like this briefly made her regret going too deep into science field, it put her into serious dangers like this one often. However next second she reminded herself she always got out of them somehow without dying.

Oh, huh? Is that a figure or two near the hurricane? Juno pursed towards the danger more, closer to the figures to listen to what they're talking about. Must be something intense if they're standing couple of miles away from the hurricane. It was tough due to multiple of noises around them. Clacking. Cracking. Crunching. Eventually she heard a familiar voice;

"-By adjusting I meant making the alternate version of me escape from prison, and resurrected Frankie. This is the result, the timeline trying to erase itself and reverse the changes I made. It seems a little extreme for couple of tiny changes if you ask me, but science."

What? Juno watched as the figure throw their arms up towards the natural disaster before realizing she was watching herself repeating what she did moments ago. Okay, now, that's weird. Really weird. She watched as the pair disappear through a portal, stepping closer slowly before she heard another noise behind her.

The scientist whipped around defensively as she stared at herself as if there was a mirror. Then another one, and more came up behind each one like in a line. They all shared the same expression as her, confusion, wondering about what was going on. Only one difference was visible, their realities. Some looked well off, others seemed like a homeless bum, few had serious injuries. Juno realized to herself; by adjusting the timeline, she created multiple more realities in the process but at the same time broke everything.

Her vision distorted as she looked behind her, back to multiple Junos gave her double vision and even more of spinning feeling. With no purchase to balance herself, she stumbled down onto the ground; and so did others. Eventually, blackness came. Loss of feeling in her limbs, then body, finally whole. She felt her consciousness slip away, as if she was ceasing to exist, being erased. Is she the real Juno, or was she an alternate version? Did death finally catch up to her after million of years? She can't tell anymore. All she felt was floating.. drowning.. life slipping away..

"Juno! Ju, Ju, Ju, please wake up!" At her name being called, she blinked her eyes open to find Piper hovering over her with unnatural expression pulling at her usually taut face, one of a concern for a close friend, then relief.

"No time to talk," Juno immediately stood up, feeling the same relief wash over her when she felt a device in her hand. She tinkered with it for a while before pressing a button. The environment acted as a rewind button; the disaster undoing itself, houses rebuilt themselves, the terrain got their chunks back. Importantly, the hurricane shrank the more she went back in time. Next thing she knew she was back in her lab, a moment before she entered the alternate reality dimension to adjust it.

"Juno? Can I-" Piper entered the room to ask for something but stopped when the scientist sighed, mostly out of exhaustion.That was a horrible ride, all that just to discover something, which she's not regretful of but still. She felt like she nearly died for a minute there,

"Yes, yes. You want the shrinking gun, I know. Just one thing beforehand, remind me to never adjust our alternate reality dimension again." Juno reached over in the box to pull out the mentioned gun, tossing it over to the robot for her to catch. "Just don't shrink Frankie again. Shrink a big animal into a house pet size or something, okay?"

Piper, as expected, seemed confused for a second but shrugged as if it was a normal occurrence and and it is despite it leaving her still feeling rather distorted. Adjusting alternate reality, warping and breaking the timeline, nearly erasing herself out of existence? No biggie, just another normal day. Just one thing that is off is the question that sat heavily in back of her mind;

Is she the real Juno, or an alternate reality version? She expected answers going into the plan she executed, but she left with more questions. The all more to find answers for, even if she came close to erasing herself out of existence again. Anything and everything for science.

[1294/2500]

Viscets used:
Juno Atrlee
Piper Atrlee

[dzo]

"A summer storm is brewing... what is it, and what are your Viscets doing to prepare for this "storm"? What is the aftermath?"

A crack of lightning could be seen in the distant sky, nonetheless the sky was still fairly light and blue. Following the lightning came a sudden pop of thunder which interrupted the chirping birds as it growled heavily through the air, making the metal poles that held up the dock Alec stood on vibrate just a bit.

The air became deathly silent, and all was still. Along with the once boisterous birds and bugs, even the waves seemed to be silenced for just a moment. Breaking the silence, a moderately sized wave clapped onto the darkened, brown-sugar colored sand, more aggressive than any wave before. The wildlife continued their eccentric chatter, whilst the waves continued getting harsher and harsher as time went on, almost as if they were trying to talk over the creatures saying “listen to me! listen to me!” And listening to them they should have, because clouds soon began to roll in just as violently as the waves crashed, causing the sky to go gray and dark.

Alec, a fairly ordinary sailor at first glance, had only just finished loading up his boat with supplies when these events all were taking place. The sailor had met a girl on his travels. She lived on a peninsula, which was not too far away. He frequently dropped off items to a friend who also lived on that peninsula. He frequently saw her when he visited his friend, and developed a crush on her. Not too long after he developed the crush, he began to come over at any excuse just to see her. Alec and the girl had had a few conversations before, though he always wished to talk to her more.

Alec had a plan this time he was visiting the peninsula. He wrote a poem to the girl, a poem which confessed his ever-growing, secret love for her. She had mentioned she liked snacking on seeds, and so he intended to give her some as a gift along with the poem. He also incorporated the seeds by mentioning them into the poem, thankfully without using any bad puns. Alec was anxious to see her and confess, finally after all this time.

He looked to the now dull grey sky with a fixed, expressionless look on his face. The viscet placed both of his paws on his side, shifted his weight a bit, and started to tap his right foot on the dock, simply viewing the newly veiled sky, contemplative of what the weather might turn out to be. While he continued to tap his foot and subconsciously moved his bottom jaw around, he also was deeply pondering what to do.

He came to the conclusion that the weather actually didn't seem all that bad and, since he has easily handled choppy waters and storms before, it wouldn't, and shouldn't, be a concern to him if he left quickly and sailed speedily. With that mindset in place, the viscet untied his beloved boat and the weights helping hold it down, letting the water immediately pull it back in relief of the tension. He smiled at the sight of his boat ready to be out in the open waters as well as because he would soon be out in the free, open waters too.

Alec’s smile fell into a puzzled frown. He looked back hesitantly, questioning his own sanity. “Did I really just do that?” He blurted aloud to himself after looking at the untied ropes on the deck. “Am I really going out right before a storm could hit?” He continued to speak out loud. Sometimes it got lonely for him, being out at sea with no one to talk to, and he accidentally eventually developed a habit of talking to himself, mostly asking questions he had aloud to himself.

“So so very foolish. Ohhhh I’m crazy, crazy, crazy- that’s me. What a funny guy. Silly, I am. I am silly.” He laughed to himself to try to calm himself down. There was something comforting about the words when they were repeated. It made them feel definite, it made something feel definite. However, he was not sure what he was actually describing to be all those words. It could have been sailing out into a storm and sticking with that decision? Doubting his skill for handling storms? Talking to himself? Maybe it was because he decided he wasn’t crazy for doing any of those things.

The viscet sailor continued to blabber to himself whilst he checked his boat’s sails. “Insane insane insane insane, no no… normal, completely normal, sane?” He mumbled, halting his nonsense only because he was captivated by the sky that had been filled with the bright light from sheet lightning. “Totally sane? Totally sane...” He questioned with growing doubts. Something about being nervous completely changed him from his usual confident, quiet, intellectual self into a non-stop talking complete wreck of self-doubt. However, this was the first time he ever started to freak out because of a storm and these bouts of anxiety actually didn’t happen often at all.

The lightning wasn’t too bad, just a few bangs here and there to occasionally remind who’s really in the drivers seat. The storm was obviously the boss of the whole situation. The storm’s incoming wind determined where the boat was going to go for the most part- and storms are irresponsible, throwing things around just for the fun of it. Alec had a rough time. His boat was being rocked by the waves, making his balance very unsteady. The things he hadn’t tied down, or tied down well, were beginning to slowly slide on the dock.

Wooooshhh, a box slid down the narrow dock from the starboard side. Wooooshhhh, the box, and now a second box slid back to near where the first box had been previously. They did this a few times, and there were about five various items sliding across the deck. This aggravated Alec. Hearing objects glide or roll across the dock got irritating after a while. However, he needing to keep his as much attention as he could give on steering the boat, so there was no time to chase after his items, and thus they continued to slide around.

“Totally sane…” he mumbled very quietly after peering over his shoulder to see a bunch of his things slide out of his sight. Alec successfully calmed himself back down and became very silent because of that. He didn't even want to talk, he just wished to listen. Vvvvvooosh, Alec cringed in horror when he heard his small burlap sack of sunflower seeds, which must have freed itself from the ties, roll across the floor. The lovestruck sailor's heart dropped, seeing the bag get wet. He could hear the waves crashing onto the water and the side of his boat, but he heard something else too. It took him a moment to realize what he heard was rain, starting to drizzle and hit the deck of the open boat.. A blast of lightning illuminated the sky once again, bringing roaring thunder booming through the air. The drizzle picked up, getting heavier and heavier before Alec’s eyes. Another bolt came quickly after the rain started to pour, sounding a deep rumble of thunder.

Alec was thrown in the air when the boat tipped quite far over, and back again when the boat leaned back the other way. He fell to the ground, and stumbled to stand back up again. He tried to reach out for anything he could because was too slippery, for all that it was no use trying to reach the railing, because he kept getting thrown back down in a jolt of right to left, right to left.

Knocked out of breath, he sat himself down on the ground, holding onto a cord that tied some stuff down. He felt dizzy and lightheaded, so instead of getting up, he continued to rest on the wet dock. He felt the boat, which he was no longer in any control of, crash against a wave and fly up a little, sending that bag of sunflower seeds perfectly overboard. Alec snarled, grumbling some frustrated words, at the sight of the storm just take his seeds like that. Coincidentally, a flash of lightning occurred right after, making it appear as if it was trying to growl back in defense of itself.

Alec stayed sat down for a moment more, then pulled himself up. He stood against the port-side railing, facing the starboard side, for quite some time. He looked around at the gray sky to witnesses some more lightning in the distance. The ship had stopped violently rocking, nonetheless it was still storming. The sky was very dark and spiting sheets of rain. Alec took in a breath of relief, but that was a breath taken one moment too soon. As soon as the viscet finished exhaling, he was hurled to the other side of the boat. His feet dragged as he leaned back the first half of the distance, but he was flung forward as soon as he stopped leaning back so far. After most of his body whacked into the railing, the boat immediately rocked back the other way. He slipped and stumbled, but avoided to the ground straight away and instead hindered the fall by grabbing onto the railing and miraculously kept his grip.

The viscet positioned himself in a steady stance at the rail and tried to see where he was through the rain. He squinted his eyes, not daring to let go of the rail to hold up either hand as a shield from the skin piercing raindrops. He could see land in one direction, and it wasn’t behind him. He knew that at that point it would have been helpful to have a compass or some type of navigating system of sorts to figure out where he was exactly, but alas he could not get to his compass. He relied on the fact that he still had it in the pocket of his jacket and could get to it once he could stand well.

The boat steadied and, soon after, the rain calmed down. Alec walked over to his jacket, which had fallen on the floor of the dock and gotten soaked. The compass wasn’t in his jacket, and so with a sigh he just decided to steer the boat to the land he saw and maybe, if he was lucky, know where he was when he actually saw the land. Alec, body sore, calmly got the ship on course. “I could not have traveled very far. Surely the storm almost sunk me but it could not have pushed me in any weird direction too much… right?” He debated, tapping his foot on the puddle filled dock.

When he eventually got closer, he could see that the place where he currently was at was only a short distance from a stop he was planning to make. He intended to give a few bags of various edible seeds and as a gift to a kind girl he met, and he wished to read her a poem to confess his feelings. However he didn't exactly have all of them anymore, as one of the three bags went overboard. Since he didn’t have all of the gift and since he didn’t wish to arrive with only two thirds of gift, he saw little point in going that day. Alec gazed at the small town on the land in front of him, and begun to turn his boat around to head back home. Disappointed in the rough journey and the unfortunate events that prevented him from getting to his destination and confessing his love, the viscet sighed and longingly looked back at the shore behind him, heading back to go home to his regular, ole boring single life.

1,979 w

[magpiemochi.]

Loki didn't have many friends. None at all, actually. Unless of course one would count his bird, Ikol. He normally kept to himself, not wanting to get mixed up in the business of others or really deal with others ... Or anything having to do with anyone else. Unless it had to do with pranking them or tricking them in only the cruelest ways. He was one to find pleasure in the misery of others, but there was one viscet who made his way under his skin and past the concrete walls he placed around heart, soul, and mind. It wasn't romantic in the least, but he had to admit that there was definitely a certain admiration there. He didn't admire his patriotic ways or how he was always trying to do the right thing; he admired his passion.

If there was one thing Loki would appreciate, it was passion. Whether or not the passions of another clashed with his, it didn't really matter. Everyone was passionate about something, and those who truly weren't, Loki considered lazy and irresponsible. It didn't make much sense to anyone else, but as long as he made sense of it then all was well.

Much to everyone's surprise, the viscet who found himself in Loki's good standing was none other than Steve. A blond viscet who had more passion than he knew what to do with. Loki found himself gravitating closer to this viscet; at first it was only just to figure him out a bit more. To understand and learn what made him tick. But as time went on, it turned into something else. Something more. Something almost tangible, as odd as it sounded. The mean spirited viscet never really felt such a thing for another before; it took him by surprise. Though, instead of willing it away, he embraced the feeling. Initially, his plan was to see how far he could stretch it. To see if he could possibly get something out of it, but he soon found himself enjoying the company of Steve.

That was unfortunate.

As time went on, he found himself poking around Steve's home more frequently and asking the other to come over. Maybe spend a night or two with him. Again, nothing romantic. All the two did was talk on and on, sometimes for hours straight. The both of them had so much to talk about, and Loki felt as though Steve understood him in a way that no one else could, or would ever be able to again. It was an odd feeling, really, especially as he began to dip into the other's mind. Surprisingly enough, he was able to learn that Steve felt much the same. Their platonic love for one another grew the more time they spent with one another.

One thing Steve didn't know was that Loki had been cursed with a very unique gift, though he liked to call it a curse. He was able to see into the future of any around him. He was able to see, but not tell. No matter what he saw, if he spoke a word of it, it would break the very laws of time and space. Everything would change, and definitely not for the better. That's why, on one particular visit over a very hot and heavy summer, Loki's heart felt weak as he spoke with Steve. The blond viscet had explained how well things had been going, and the future he had been starting to build with his mate, Bucky.

Oh, yes. Bucky. Loki had heard plenty about Bucky. So much so, that it nearly made him roll his eyes every time he was mentioned, but he stopped himself if only for Steve's benefit. As he spoke this time, the only urge Loki felt was to blurt out everything he had seen in Steve's coming future. His time with Bucky would be limited, and he had no way of letting him know this. After the other had finished talking about their plans and dreams, Loki only offered him a sad look before speaking his cryptic thoughts:

"cherish your time with him, Steve. I know you do already, but you need to cherish him."

The look on Steve's face —- his crinkled brows and lopsided frown -— it had Loki grimacing. He could only offer one more cryptic warning:

"A storm is coming, and you need to be prepared for it."

He couldn't tell him exactly what he meant, and he was appreciative that Steve seemed to drop the topic as soon as it was brought up. He only hoped that the blond would forgive him once it all happened. After Bucky was taken from him, brainwashed yet again, and set out to destroy to leave nothing but chaos and destruction in his path. Once the mate he had planned a life with had destroyed everything he once loved; he only hoped Steve would understand that there was no way Loki could have told him that.

All he could do was hope. Hope that his cryptic warning would be enough to brace Steve for the coming storm because it wouldn't be pretty, and it wouldn't be easy.

Once everything was said and done, Steve would never see Bucky again.

874/2500 words

Loki belongs to me
Bucky belongs to me
Steve belongs to milo.
(I've won my two event adopts, so I'm entering for stubs and items!)

[milo.]

a storm is coming... do you feel it?



Though Armitage doesn't have any magic ability to speak of really, he has a deep connection with his mate that cannot be compared to anything else. It's a gnawing, familiar ache in his chest-- one that comforts and consumes the General on a day-to-day basis as he inspects the bridge, and his troops. When addressing his officers, and especially when he's laying with his mate. It's stronger then; a thrumming in his entire being that soothes him and shrouds him in an effective calm.

Today, the ache is twisting in his gut-- he's nauseated because of it, and he's faint. There's something wrong, this he knows, but he doesn't have the ability to read Kylo's thoughts. That was something he could only dream of doing. The General finally huffs, not being able to take the feeling rolling in his stomach any longer, and he passes command of the bridge to one of his more trusted officers. They salute before Armitage is hurrying from the large room-- falling into a brisk jog when he's out of sight of everyone. He's on the hunt for Kylo now, ears slicked back in concern as he projects; I'm coming, darling. Don't worry.

The silence in response has Armitage hurrying a little faster.

When he comes upon their shared quarters, punching in the code quickly, he zips in to a sight he prefers not to see. Kylo is pacing, brows knit and eyes squinting as he's lost to his own thoughts. Various small items in the room are vibrating, near hovering off their surfaces as the hulking beast growls low in his deep set chest. Armitage knows better than to get in the way, though he does approach just off to the side cautiously with head canted and tail flicking anxiously. "Supreme Leader Ren," he starts slowly, voice a low octave as he tests the waters. In times where Kylo is worked up and angered, it's best to take a professional approach, regardless of their status as mates. it may be a personal matter, but it could very well be a professional one as well and they did the best they could to differentiate between business and pleasure.

The General did better at it, in retrospect. Kylo's emotions could get in the way sometimes.

Armitage knew they were on fairly equal ground when it came to their relationship, but there were still reputations and rules to maintain. The ginger tilted his muzzle up just slightly, ears twitching as he finally falls into a stand easy-- his paws are clasped neatly at the small of his back, and his boots are planted firmly shoulder width apart as he studies the larger male.

"Kylo," His breath is slightly whispy now, and that seems to nab the other's attention. Kylo's stomping pace falters, draped tail falling to sweep along the floor. Armitage resists the urge to cringe at the idea of dirt and fluff getting caught up in the long draping feathers-- he'll have to spend extra time brushing them out for his mate later on tonight. "My darling." That does it. Kylo finally heaves a heavy sigh, stopping in his steps and turning his head up toward the florescent lighting above them. He doesn't turn dark eyes on his lover, but Armitage can see the turmoil in them regardless.

Armitage approaches slowly, paws unclasping so he can reach out and place a paw on Kylo's shoulder. It takes a moment, but Kylo finally lifts his own large paw to lay atop of his mates. There's a beat of shared silence between them before Kylo turns to face his slighter mate, head bowed a bit so they can press their foreheads together gently in a loving touch. "There's something wrong." The male finally admits, and Armitage flicks his ears up to hear his tone better. Kylo always sounded as though he were on the verge of an emotional breakdown - his voice, clipped and broken as though he were speaking through the threat of tears. Brilliant blues flick about Kylo's face for a moment to determine whether or not he was going to cry, and when he finds nothing there aside from a gloss in his eyes caused by emotional overstimulation and frustration, Armitage breathes a soft sigh.

"There's a storm coming."

Armitage twitches at this, features screwing up as he pulls back only slightly to peer more intently at his mate. He silently demands answers, and Kylo isn't always good with reading facial expressions and social cues. The ginger nods, acknowledging Kylo's words and encouraging him to continue. The beastly male heaves, chest rising and falling in a dramatic manner, but he can feel it-- Kylo is downright deflating, and he needs to know the reason why. "Talk to me. What's going on in that head of yours?" he reaches up, running a paw through the long black strands and careful to avoid his horns. "Was it a vision? What did you see?"

Kylo swallows, shaking his head a moment before falling still at his mate's paw tightening near his scruff. Armitage was not a man to be trifled with, and Kylo knew this first hand, despite his ranking above him. The stocky leader finally locks his gaze with Armitage, features still fallen into a pout that the General hated and adored simultaneously. "Mylo."

Armitage sways in his spot, blood draining to his toes and head spinning with a confused dizziness. The name of their son was enough to make Armitage leap into a paternal instinct, his hand releasing Kylo and pulling back as though he'd been burned. His head spun with many a question. What was wrong with Mylo? Was he hurt? Was he causing trouble? Was he captured? Was anyone in danger? Mylo was a very unstable young male, and Armitage had always sort of been on edge in regards to his sense of grandeur... though, he supposed the boy came by that narcissism honestly. The officer falters a step back and away from Kylo, brows furrowed so low that he's peering at his larger mate through a disbelieving squint. "Where... where is he."

A beat, and he lowers his voice as though it's simply an after thought; "The throne room."

Armitage wastes no time spinning on his heels, hurrying away and toward the large out of the way room. Armitage knows that Mylo is a disturbed boy. He has always seen so much of his father in him that he knew it was only a matter of time before he fell too far into his powers - fell into the darkness and discovered how good it felt to be powerful. To be the most powerful. Mylo was a prince, after all. He was royalty, and he knew it very well. He bathed in the glory and praise. Something their little family was guilty of entirely, but still-- it frightened Armitage to a fault. He remembers how feral Kylo had been when he took over-- when he'd disposed of his mentor and taken his position. He fears the same may one day happen to him-- to them both, perhaps.

The officer is hesitant once he reaches the large doors, blues scanning the framework carefully, as though looking for an excuse to not enter. After a deep inhale, he does push the doors open, marching down the length of the room to pause before the gigantic throne placed on the opposite side. Mylo appears to be just fine, and Armitage releases the breath he had been holding. The boy is dripping in fine jewels - gold chains that look as though the gold is liquid and dripping from his very being and his clothing, sparkling under what dim lights they had in the room. He looked ethereal. The General shudders with the sudden draft in the room, but he remains at attention before the throne, muzzle tilted up and eyes angry.

"Get out of your father's throne immediately."

Mylo sighs deeply, eyes rolling toward the tall ceiling and body slumping down further into the seat. He waves a paw toward nothing in particular, looking utterly bored with the situation as he subtly trains his attention on Armitage below. Despite the jewels hanging from his being, his shifting is eerily silent as he crosses his legs to merely get more comfortable. The male swallows thickly, staring up at his son with a cocktail of emotions rolling in the back of his mind. He's careful not to allow these emotions the light of day, least Mylo wish to read his thoughts and use them against him-- he is Kylo's son, after all. And most definitely powerful.

"This was the very reason you had me, was it not?"

Like his mate, Mylo's voice was always strained in tone. He always sounded out of breath, whispery and breathy and deep in inflection. Armitage had always worried about the both of them in that regard, though it turned out to simply be just the way they were-- though he hadn't expected them to be so similar in the end. "An heir to the throne, Father. My predecessor must be proud, do you not agree?"

With lips peeled back to bare a fanged snarl, Armitage rumbles low in his chest - a threat that the boy was in danger of punishment should he not listen and do as he's told.

"Your father is healthy and will continue to rule until either of us say otherwise. Get out of his throne, now. It is not your time, son."

"Oh, you have a say in it as well, do you? I'm certain Papa will be pleased to hear about that."

The ginger swallows, breath hitching as Mylo rests an elbow on the arm rest; his movements are graceful as he rests his cheek in his palm lazily. They continue to stare at one another before Armitage is tensing, the presence of another causing his hackles to raise. A quick glance lets Armitage know that it's just Kylo standing at his flank, though the hulking male steps forward and past him, breezing easily toward the small set of stairs at the base of the throne. "Papa, were you aware of Father's treasonous thoughts? Were you going to simply ignore them and allow him to run you about? You're better than that."

Kylo shakes his head, though doesn't seem all too perturbed by the situation. He's stoic, and calm. It reminds Armitage of the nights he watches his mate meditate. It's almost more peaceful than watching him sleep.

"There's a storm coming, Papa." Mylo turns his eyes on Kylo slowly, tail flicking with boredom by his ankles.

Both males stiffen at the words, Kylo's breathing growing more laboured as he does his best to keep himself steady and at peace. Just as he had predicted-- just as he had seen. "Mylo, that's enough." Kylo's snarl all but echoes through the large room. Armitage hardly flinches at the sound, but he wants to.

The prince stands slowly, sheer and bejeweled fabric swaying fluidly as he steps aside and rounds the back of the throne. He drapes himself along the back of it, stretching like a content cat and dangling an arm down to smooth along the hard surface of the seat. Mylo sighs, allowing it to drag on, as though he has just heard the wrong answer to an important question. "Do you feel it? Are you prepared for it?" His smile is wicked and large as he brushes past Kylo, avoiding his gaze with nose upturned and steps so graceful-- it's as though he were a naturally born ruler. He radiated power - grace, and beauty.

Armitage reaches out as Mylo steps past him, gripping his son's arm tightly and halting his gait. Mylo turns cool eyes on him, ripping his arm away with a gasp and scowl-- he brushes the fabric of his robes with an upturned expression of disgust before stepping back and away to glare at him, and then Kylo in turn. "Do not lay a hand on me!" Mylo is snarling now, prone to temper tantrums much like his father used to, and though Armitage has plenty of experience with their tantrums now, this was something entirely different. The air around them vibrated, waving in the General's line of vision much in the manner that reminded him of a hot summer day. "You're pathetic!" His eyes are rimmed with tears already, easily made emotional.

Kylo had once said it was due to passion, much like Kylo's own.

Armitage was as passionate as the rest of them, but he didn't cry at the drop of a pin.

"Prepare yourselves," Mylo finally growls out, sniffing and holding his head up high again to ward off the tears. "This is a storm that will most definitely leave destruction in it's wake. Father," Mylo quirks a brow, leaning in to place a chaste kiss to the General's cheek -- it's a mocking challenge more than it is an act of adoration. "Might I remind you who truly has the power here?" With one last glance tossed Kylo's way, the boy steps away slowly and disappears through the doors like a dream.

For the first time in a very long time, Armitage makes a choking sound-- Kylo barely has him in his arms before he's sobbing openly.



--------------------------------



Their world is on fire - heart, soul and home.

Do you feel it?

What a storm it had been. Mylo had most certainly done his best in his attempts to take over the throne. They had lost many a good men in this fight, and still Mylo, the prince... their child... he had gotten away with promise that he would return. More powerful. More prepared. With a bigger army, and a darker heart. Armitage had been broken apart about losing their child more than he was about his work -- though that was a loss that would haunt the General for a long time as well. Hours had felt like days... Armitage sitting cross-legged on the floor in the throne room, surrounded by the scent of smoke and betrayal; in his paws, he holds a strip of glittery fabric.

"Armie,"

Glossy blues glance up to blankly stare at Kylo-- his lip quivers, and the hulking ruler drops to his knees, gathering the slighter male up in his arms and shushing him softly. This isn't supposed to happen, Armitage thinks. There aren't supposed to be any storms. He's crying again, hiding his face in the crook of Kylo's neck and biting back the hiccups as best he can manage. Kylo doesn't mind at all, rubbing his back and always encouraging the hardened General to let go.

Where there's a calm before the storm, there's also the calm that comes after.

The ginger laughs bitterly at the projection, finally allowing trembling sobs to escape him. His body rocks with Kylo's as the other continues to shush and kiss at his mane. "Kylo, you're so horribly mistaken." He whines. "This is only the eye of it."





word count: 2500
armitage and mylo belong to me
kylo belongs to james. and used with permission

[lex]

Mark!

[Yuroshi]

The two viscets featured here are Rogue, and Ti... aka, the only viscets I own.

It started the same way it always does. He breathed in, and back out again. Strong, bright, and thoughtful green eyes flashed open to view a dark room, the same one he'd been fortunate enough to wake up in nearly every single night throughout the past year. And really, he was very fortunate to be in this place. Shelter, from any bad weather that might find its way to him. A place away from people that might hope to make his like miserable. Somewhere he could be himself, without fear- not his own fear, and not the fear his looks brought into the minds of others. It was more than just shelter, to him. This was Rogue's home, and he would never stop being thankful for it. As he rolled to his feet, donning mask and scarf with such a careless perfection that it was clear he was more than used to such an action, Rogue paused.
Something, he thought to himself, is different. Something is strange, and I don't think it's in a good way. The only problem is... I simply don't know what.
He blinked slowly, contemplating what it was that made him feel this way. When he came up with no answers, he simply shook himself off, discarding the question. He knew well that there would be no use in dwelling on a question which could never be answered. It was almost as silly as that thing, that irrational, wasteful thing, that many like to call regret. To him, there was no use in dwelling on something that could never be changed.
With that, Rogue began to walk, his footsteps silent in the darkness of the carvernous walls that bordered his home. He effortlessly avoided every hole, every hazard, with nearly unnatural grace. Stepping through the gate, he felt the caress of the wind, much harsher than usual, and glowed softly underneath the pale moonlight that shone through the trees. Close as they might be, the leaves of the forest couldn't dream to cover up the whole sky- there was simply no way of keeping the moonlight from reaching the earth it cared for.
The light did its job well, and as Rogue stepped out, it illuminated another, stepping in. The other, the color of deep earth speckled with brimstone, paused in his walking onto to slip a small note to the first with a whispered, "be careful. We need you," before slipping into the darkness of the home he had made, never turning, but feeling those glowing green eyes on his back as he slowly became one with the darkness.
Rogue sighed, then whirled around to continue his journey, a small smile tugging the edge of his mouth where it hid behind the mask. Unheard by anyone but the wind, he responded, "Of course, Ti. Nothing could keep me away. I'll protect you."

It didn't take very long for Rogue to reach his destination, the smile dropping from his hidden face as he observed. This spot, the same place that Ti had watched all day. The place he'd marked for execution...

Breathe In. Breathe Out.

It wasn't long now, until the truth would be revealed. All would change, within mere moments. Nothing would be the same after what he knew would surely happen. Yet Rogue found he didn't mind, not as he knew the others would. Then again, those were the ones that always told Rogue he was different, and that through differences, he'd never belong. He nearly laughed at his own thoughts while he wondered what they'd think now of him, a boy whose only differences were forced into creation. The change in him they had brought forth all on their own.
Once again, Rogue closed his eyes, seeing all the Ti had shown him, for he knew the time was coming very soon. Slowly moving, he turned to the sky, and saw the clouds move in on the moon, dark, twisted, and beautiful. Without pause, he turned and moved, racing in the shadows that clouds created even as the light danced within them far above.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Breathe In. Breathe Out.

It was done.

Rogue raced back through the shadows, as far raindrops began to fall, far too late, and far too gentle to stop the coming storm. With a smile, he watched them lighting- the five fires that he had started- racing quickly along the house that he had chosen. The house that held the corrupt, the hateful, the deceitful, who tried to harm him. The one who thoughtlessly harmed any in his way. The house that tonight, he well knew, was bare of life, but full of money, much of which had gone home with Ti before him.
The inferno began to swallow the house, in a frenzy, and as it fell, light raged through the sky. The roar of the lightning which consumed the lingering darkness blocked out all as the house crashed to the ground.
And as it fell, Rogue turned, striding back on the path to home, a smile playing on his lips as lightning tore through the night sky.

A storm is coming, for the people down below. It will illuminate every corner of the darkness before it as it rages. And me?
I will be the one to bring it.

[gp5]

gonna enter!

[Razors]

Ronia sat in the middle of a field, twisting and twining together the little collection of flowers at her feet. The child had spent the entire morning collecting the flowers, though her eyes constantly drifted towards the west. There was a cold wind blowing in, and the flat landscape allowed for a perfect view of the ominous clouds off in the distance. Most of the day had been clear and sunny, but those clouds, black and threatening, hinted at something more to come. Humming to herself to try and distract herself from the thought of the storm, Ronia continued her work until all of the flowers had been bound together into little crowns. This was her work during the summer, and though Ronia was no longer alone and needing to support herself, thanks to Dove and Fenris, she still liked to make these crowns. Packing her crowns into a basket, she place it over her arm and head towards town, thankfully it was in the opposite direction of the clouds. Ronia had a great fear of thunder and lightning, both usually going hand in hand, she felt extremely on edge as she approach the market and every little sound made her stop and listen. Was it thunder? Was the storm closing in on her? She loved summers but she could do without the storms. Ronia approached her spot, the same spot she always chose when she came to sell her crowns, and began her routine. Politely, but firmly, offering crowns to passing strangers, choosing children and women to target specifically, especially the ones that were with males. Females seemed to be able to talk males into anything. Or so it seemed to Ronia. She wondered if one day she could hold the power to make someone buy something for her by just glancing at them and batting her eyes or flashing a smile.

The soft rumble of distant thunder broke her out of her thoughts, leaving her body stiffening and the crown she held dropping from her paw. "Uh oh, looks like it's getting close." Ronia's neighbor, a kindly old lady who sold fruits and veggies, leaned towards Ronia and arched a brow. "You're cutting it close, don't you think?" Every one in the small town knew of Ronia and her fear of storms. She'd embarrassed herself on more than one occasion thanks to them, after all. "Why don't you leave your basket here, I'll sell the rest for you and you can get the money when it stops raining." Ronia smiled to the kind woman and lifted her basket for her to take. "Thank you, Ma'am." She spoke softly, only to jerk as the thunder crash out again. "Remember what you learned, Ronia, every five seconds is a mile. Don't cut it too close, child!"

Ronia's home was a good five miles from town, she never minded making the trek, though, it was such a lovely walk through the field and forest, and the river that flowed along the way was always so peaceful to watch and listen to. She could follow it all the way to and from home. Glancing to the sky, Ronia frown, the sky already darkening and the blue almost completely gone, nothing but soft grey left behind. She still had time, though, as the distant blackness was still a ways off. Waving her goodbye to the woman, she turned and began heading back towards the field. It normally took her about two hours walking at a leisure pace and enjoying the scenery. If she ran maybe she could make it home in an hour or less.

Ronia exit town and began a slow jog down the road, veering off after a short distance to begin running through the tall grass of the fields. She could see the change in nature. She could hear the difference. Every creature had huddled down and began preparing for the coming storm, no cicadas trilled, no crickets chirped. The silence seemed to only make the next crash of thunder that much worse. The moment it sound off her body drop instantly and hit the dirt hard. Her paws clutched over her head and a loud scream emitting from her. It took several long minutes for her to regain composure, but once she did, her desire to get home seemed ten times as intense now. Panic had taken hold and Ronia ran as fast as she could, interrupted by the occasional rumble of thunder that sent her dropping to the earth with paws over her head.

When the rain began her face had already long since been soaked, salty tears streaming over her maw and eyes wide with panic. This seemed to be a particularly bad storm, as each clash of lightning was followed close by with a bang of thunder. Vicious, loud, ear splitting crashes. She had been counting the entire time since she could first see the lightning. She was now down to barely twelve seconds between lightning and thunder. Just a tiny bit over two miles. The storm was almost on her! Like a monster, it seemed to be chasing her, the rain intensifying along with the beating of her heart. The child was stricken with fear, and as she finally drew upon the river that she usually followed home, she was greeted with a horrible sight. What was typically a gentle, trickling river was now raging, foaming and filled with debris. Tree limbs, flowers, grass, and who knows what else was seen carried quickly away or swallowed up by waves.

At the best of times, during a hot summer, she'd wade in the water halfway home. It was lovely and cool in the hot summer months. But there would be no wading in this water, she'd have to wait until the bridge to be able to cross and get home. Thankfully she only had about a mile left to go. Panting heavily, she slosh through the flooding waters, attempting to stick well away from the main source so as not to accidentally fall in or be swept up. Ronia was almost home! She could see the blur of the distant light in the window of Dove and Fenris' cabin. A mix of tears and rain stung her eyes, relief flooding over her and giving her a little boost towards the bridge.

A flash of light and instant crack. There were no seconds to count, this time. The storm was here, it was upon her. Screaming, Ronia turned away from the light source and closed her eyes, running in the opposite direction. Fear had its hold on her, taking place of the relief. "Ronia!" She barely heard the scream before another flash, followed by a crash, left her ears ringing. Screaming in pure terror, the child, eyes still closed, ran this way and that, attempting to find some sort of relief from the nightmare around her. What Ronia found, though, was a chilling embrace of the river. She had ran directly towards the raging rapids and fallen right into the torrential waters, which swept her up and left her body tossed head over paws multiple times. She sank quickly to the bottom, bashed against the floor of the river and drug several feet before a log smack into her side. The wind was knocked clear from her lungs, sending bubbles flying from her mouth and twirled about by the torrent. She did not know which way was up and which way was down, and try as she might, she could do no more than tumble about, carried by the water.

Her burning lungs forced her to gasp, taking in water and leaving her choking, only causing her to take in even more water. Fear and confusion left her reeling, her body flailing about in the water until the moment her mind began to go blank. The fear began to fade and Ronia felt herself slipping away. She didn't want to die! She had just found a family! She had just become truly happy! How could she die when she just began to live! Her last breath escape her and her body began to go limp, Ronia's form rag-dolling in the water until the moment it was swept up in the firm grasp of Fenris. The male had ran after her and lept into the water, searching frantically for her. He had lost sight of her for a long while and almost believed she had been swept away from him, his heart aching at the thought of having lost his daughter. The moment he had caught sight of her he instantly swam to her and swept her into his arms, struggling against the current to carry them both to shore. It was a long, grueling battle, one that left him breathless and petrified that he would lose the child under the grasping current.

Once the two were finally ashore, he drug her body up and began pressing his paws against her chest, attempting to pump the water from her lungs. He preformed CPR, his heart sinking as she seemed unresponsive to his efforts, though finally, just as the bitter tears began to rise to his eyes, she coughed. Hacking and sputtering, Ronia choked up the water that had almost drowned her. "Ronia!" Fenris barked, grasping the child up in his arms and moving to his feet. He ran as quickly as he could back towards the house, crossing the bridge and heading to the door. He press her head into his chest, using his arm and paw to cover her ears to block out the thunder, his other paw shielding her eyes. Dove was waiting for them at the door, towels in paw. Once the door was closed behind them, Dove wrapped Ronia in the towel and looked her over. "Oh you poor child." Dove frowned, hugging Ronia tight. "I'm sorry, I should have met you in town..." Dove whispered gently, rocking Ronia in her arms.

It was to this that Ronia began to wake, her breathing still raspy but clearing with every cough. The storm still raged outside, though it was the warmth of Dove and the smell of her home that helped cause Ronia to relax. The sound of thunder left her tensing, but Dove assisted by humming gently into Ronia's ear. Fenris had gone to dry off once Ronia seemed stable, Eve soon joining the little gathering and completing the family after Fenris returned, towel over his shoulders. Eve sat, watching her mother as she rocked Ronia, her paw soon rising to gently stroke at her sisters arm or head. The storm began to wane, leaving nothing more than the soft sound of drizzling outside, a gentle, relaxing sound.

Ronia yawned, snuggling into Dove's arms. She need not say anything, everyone was very familiar with her fear of thunder and lightning. What Ronia appreciated most, though, was that not a single one of them had laughed at her for it. Even now, all three of them, Dove, Fenris, and Eve, simply sat with her and wade through the storm. "Thank you..." Ronia finally said, tears rising to her eyes once more. She was just a child, but everyone else had laughed at her for her fear, had said it was stupid, or silly, for her to be so petrified of thunder and lightning. "Your chances of being struck are low, why are you so scared!" She could hear the voices in her head. "Shh, just rest." Dove said, leaning down and nuzzling at Ronia's face. " I'm sorry..." Ronia sobbed, tucking her face into Dove's neck. "What are you sorry for, silly?" Dove smiled, chuckling gently. "For...being scared."

Dove laughed gently, not a condescending laugh, just a gentle, understanding laugh. "We are all afraid of something, Ronia."
"But I'm scared of something stupid..." Ronia countered, still hugging Dove.
"It's not stupid, child." Fenris said, gently petting Ronia's hair. "I am petrified of many silly things, but this does not lessen the fear."
Ronia turned her head, looking to Fenris. She admired the male a great deal, he was very strong, very brave, she never imagined him being afraid of anything. "What are you scared of?" Ronia questioned.
"I'm scared of..." Fenris seemed to ponder a moment. "Cats, dreams...myself."
Ronia frowned, looking at Fenris closely. "You are scared of yourself?" She asked.
"Yes." He said, simply.
"Me too." Eve said, quietly.
Fenris frowned, though before he could say anything, Eve continue. "The storm is over." Everyone glanced towards the window and listened, the rain gone now and nothing more than the soft drip here and there. The sun had long since gone down and night had come. "I think it's time for bed." Fenris said, scooping Eve up in his arms.
"Do you want to sleep with us tonight?" Dove asked, looking to the two girls.
"Yes!" The two cheer in unison.
Laughing softly, Dove and Fenris head towards their bedroom, placing the children into it and getting them comfortable first before climbing in themselves. Fenris had intentionally made the bed large just for this reason. The small family talked a short while before everyone began to quiet down. Ronia was the last to fall asleep, staying up to listen for the sound of distant thunder, though none came. She cuddled close to Dove and wrapped her tail around eve's own tail. Though her family was not blood, they still cared deeply for her. She was happy Dove found her. She could not have asked for a better mother and father, or a better sister.
Yawning, Ronia finally allow herself to drift off to sleep, content that the storm was actually gone and was not coming back. Hopefully not for a while, at least. (2, 287 words.)
https://razorscharacters.weebly.com/ronia.html -Ronia
https://razorscharacters.weebly.com/dove.html - Dove
https://razorscharacters.weebly.com/fenris.html - Fenris
https://razorscharacters.weebly.com/evangeline.html -Eve
All belong to me.

[Vixen Luo]

MARK I LOVE THIS OMG

[Barnes&Rogers]

"ᴀ sᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ sᴛᴏʀᴍ ɪs ʙʀᴇᴡɪɴɢ... ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ɪᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪsᴄᴇᴛs ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴘᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪs "sᴛᴏʀᴍ"? ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ?"

[username ;; Barnes&Rogers] [viscets mentioned ;; lilian] [total words ;; 1,463]

[viscets mentioned ;; lilian]

The months of the bright-sky were always the most difficult for Lilian. In her line of work, she relied on the veil of darkness to keep her concealed from guards who would otherwise have her killed, or worse, captured. Even so, she couldn't abandon her job; it provided for her, just as any other profession would. Some believed her to be evil, but she had to agree to disagree. It got food in her mouth, and a roof above her head, so if one or two cruel monsters were taken care of at the same time, who was she to complain? Her employers weren't always the nicest people, often times not caring who died along the way, as long as their target was eliminated. Sometimes, she didn't have much of a choice, and it was nights like those that she regretted so many of the choices she had made so much more.

Does lightning feel guilty for the destruction it brings? Does it hide away in fear of causing chaos?

Racing along the rooftops, as agile as a cat scaling a tree, she kept her hood pulled above her head. Ears perked, she listening for the sounds of footsteps through the rain that pounded the tiles under-paw. Her dagger was concealed beneath her cloak, the gleam of the metal shielded from view not only by the thick black material, but by the leather sheath it was contained in. All she had was a target name, and a deadline. It had taken her almost three weeks to travel from her home in the mountains of Lyrinne to the small kingdom of Taekyrre, and she was running out of time. There was a lot to lose if she failed her mission. After days of scouting, gathering intel not only on the castle's lay-out, but on the guard's, their routine, and the people within the cold stone walls, the time had finally come for her to strike. She could feel the anticipation coursing through to her bones as she caught sight of the castle walls, towering above the roofs of the town-houses. Vines clung to the wall, hanging precariously over its edge, and moss filled the gaps between the stems, like a layer of soft, green fluff. Her eyes gleamed, the light of the summer moon reflecting off them as she crouched down against the roof she was perched upon.

If she had calculated it correctly, she would have only twenty seconds to get inside the castle grounds, and into the locked window on the east-wing. The guards changed positions every ten minutes, taking roughly thirty seconds to get to their new post; that would be her only slot. If she was sighted, it would all be over, and death would be the most merciful option. She couldn't let that happen. Hours passed by like minutes as she waited, tail twitching minutely every other moment. She had done this thousands of times, and yet, the longer she looked at the cold, blank walls, the less able she felt to complete her mission, but what choice did she have?

Patience was the most important thing she had been taught, and if she wanted to complete her mission, she would have to take advantage of its full potential. After almost four hours of sitting, observing, and planning, she finally saw her chance. Running a paw through her tangled mane, she leapt from the roof, using her tail to balance her as she landed on the top of the wall, thankful that they were lax on the security. If there had been barbed wire, it would've been a different story. Claws digging into the hard material, she glanced either way, catching sight of a faint light; a signal of the approaching guardsman. Dropping to the ground, she cursed her hesitation, racing in the opposite direction of where she needed to go, until she skidded into a pile of rose bushes. They were thorny, but they would provide better cover than anywhere else. The dark, blue and red uniform came into view, and she let out a quiet breath. She had made it into the grounds, now, all she had to do was get into the castle. Then, came the easy part. Ten minutes sat on her shoulders with all the weight of a decade, and she could feel the feeling fading from her legs, but when the guard finally made his move, twenty seconds moved like two. Racing to the wall, she dug her paws into the ground, propelling herself sky-ward. Using her claws to support her, she scaled the castle wall, silently cracking open the window and slipping inside. Her tail had just disappeared when the next guard appeared, and she had to close the window slowly to avoid making even the quietest of sounds. In the night, even the rain could not conceal everything.

Slipping her hood from her head, she shook the rain water from its surface, the silver droplets catching on the feather that hung from her ear, its small chain catching their reflections as light hit it. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, before letting her mind take over, scanning the hallways. She had spent no time inside the castle, but information was priceless. Through tips, she knew exactly where every room in the entire castle was located, and the best ways to access them without being seen. It was a shame she had to dispose of her helpers, but nothing, nothing could trace back to her.

The large, oak-wood door creaked open, and Lilian stepped inside, the light from the glass window that towered above her head like a giraffe in the Savannah illuminating her silhouette, and casting long, gangly shadows across the floorboards. Surveying the room as best she could from where she stood, she tried to keep quiet. If the princess woke up, she could wake up the whole castle before Lilian could even draw her blade. A white wood chest stood tall and sturdy against the left wall, and a few old scrolls and books stood dusty on top of an old wood table. Then, her gaze settled on the four-poster bed in the corner of the room. A stream of moonlight showcased the beautiful white silk sheets, and soft red throws covered the princess. However, in place of the princess Lilian had expected, a small viscling lay asleep, her body covered by a layer of the red cloth. Eyes wide, Lilian took a step back, only for the floor to creak. Muttering under her breath, Lilian cast her gaze back to the young Princess. Her eyes met a pair of equally shocked ones. Tears glistened in the visclings eyes, but she didn't make a sound. Blue, green, and purple marks lined the princess' face and paws, and her breathing was laboured. Lilian fought the urge to move closer, to comfort the crying kid. This was an innocent child, not an assassins target. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, but a soft voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

'Who are you?' She admired the bravery of the child, though she took a few moments to assess the situation before responding. There was a tremor in the small voice, and Lilian noticed the shaking paws that clutched the blankets.

'I'm Lilian. I- uh,' Swallowing thickly, the older viscet forced a soft smile, crouching down, 'I'm here to help.'

Does thunder offer mercy to those who are weak? Does it quieten to provide comfort for those who know nothing but fear?

It took less than twenty minutes for Lilian to dispose of the king and queen. They may not have been the intended targets, but they were much more deserving of death than the small viscling who had been presented before her. When she returned to the princess' room, the young viscling had changed out of the pyjamas that had covered her body, and Lilian tucked the red-stained cloth into her small satchel. Silence greeted the duo as Lilian wiped the grime from her paws against a discarded towel. Nodding softly, she took the smaller paw in her own. Together, they managed to leave the castle unseen, and within hours, they had left the kingdom in the distance, the flags that had stood tall upon the castle disappearing from view. Lilian knew that when the town awoke, they would be free at last. Donning a smile, she gathered the small viscling in her arms. Who knew something so small could change so much...

She was a storm, violent and skillfull, leaving destruction and chaos in her wake. But she was also a viscet, with a heart, a soul, and the ability to be merciful to the deserving. The viscling she took with her that day? She was deserving.