[ID: A digital drawing of a scene with Azu from RQG 215. Azu is a black orc with a shaved head wearing a full suit of glowing pink armor and cape. She is jumping, arms raised above her head, in the middle of swinging her large pink axe. She is yelling and gives an angry look downwards. Around her is a large wave of countless marbles that flood into the foreground. Her armor has intricate engravings in gold of roses, vines, thorns, hearts, seashells, and ribbons. In the center of her chestplate is one large rose surrounded by five smaller roses, underlined by a ribbon with the words “amor vincit omnia” written on it. Behind her is a dark stormy sky with a large bolt of bright blue lightning. A large gold dragon is seen flying off in the distance following a small gold caped-figure. Bright pink both glows and shines off of Azu and her armor. End ID]
“Aphrodite, its now or never”
Can’t put into words how much I’ve loved everything Azu has done so far in this final fight!!
[Image description: A traditionally inked comic of Oscar Wilde and Zolf Smith from Rusty Quill Gaming. Wilde is a thin white man with dark wavy hair in a fur coat. Zolf is a white dwarf with mid length white hair and a braided beard wearing a blue jacket.
Zolf says “Look,” and reaches up to grab Wilde by the lapels and drags him down to his height. He stares Wilde in the eyes and says, “When this is all done. We’ll go on holiday or somethin’.”
There’s a beat, and then Wilde says, “Where?” Zolf lets go of his lapel to gesture frustratedly, “I don’t know!” he shouts. Wilde smiles as Zolf fusses. “I don’t where is gonna be beleft when all this is done! Somewhere Nice!”
Wilde smirks, leaning into Zolf until their foreheads are touching, “Zolf, I’m not going with you until you tell me where we’re going to go on holiday together.” Zolf Scowls and says, “You’re such a dick.” End description.]
If I had a nickel for every time a Rusty Quill podcast had an episode where the repressed, grumpy biromantic asexual had to save a sarcastic gay poet played by Alexander J. Newall from the comforting grips of a lifeless netherworld with the power of heavily implied queer love and holidays I’d only have 10 cents but it is wild that it happened twice.
[ID: a tiny drawing of Zolf Smith from RQG, a white dwarf man wearing a grey cloak over a blue sweater, dark pants, and golden winged boots. He’s holding the straps of the brain backpack as he looks forwards, white stars scattered behind him. End ID.]
Have a tiny little Zolf since the image of him turning around with the brain backpack from RQG 211 lives in my head rent free
surprise! i drew @evieebun125 ′s hamid together with mine!! frankly because i decided we deserved it, and because whenever they post new art i go Hogwild about their GENIUS outfit design skills. look at these two. they’d be unbeareable together, but at least they would have a blast. i think.
anyway, i had been genuinely itching to draw eviee’s hamid because i was dying to try and follow in her design and style, and seeing both designs side by side is the coolest shit. reminds me why i love art and why i love podcast fanart specifically. hope you like our distinguished little rascals! i think these came out really nice ♥
and again, eviee, thank you so much for all the love you put into the rqg space ♥♥♥
IDs under the cut!
[ID: two digital illustrations featuring hamid from rqg as designed by evie and galaxy. the first illustration is made with clean black lineart and bright, clean coloring. it shows both hamids in full body, strolling arm in arm, chatting and smiling. both have brown skin and brown hair, pointy ears, clawed hands, elegant clothes, scales, makeup, long purple capes and each has a single dragon wing out. eviee’s hamid, who’s on the left side, has his face turned to the other hamid and is smiling widely, with his left arm around his and bringing his right hand to his chest. he’s slender and is walking in a dainty manner. he’s got green eyeshadow and green lipstick, short and smooth hair slicked back with a few strands poking out, and multiple yellow and orange colored scales dotted around his face. he’s wearing a cream colored button-up with two ruffly trails along the button line, a single dark green armband around each bicep, and dark green cuff sleeves with swirling yellow patterns. on his collar is tied a matching green ribbon with an ornate purple jewel at the center. on his shoulders is a high-collared purple robe, with a golden chain keeping it in place and two short layers, the longer side falling behing him. it has a pattern of concentric circles and lines, almost like constellations. the rest of his suit is a dark green half-corset half-waistcoat tight around his middle, with golden borders and two trails of diamond-shaped buttons; its front is cut like a W and on the back it has two longer tails that reach just above his knees. the matching green trousers have a yellow line of swirling and flowery patterns on the sides. his shoes are brown and high-heeled, with golden accents. there are more scales visible on his neck, hands and ankles. his wing is a mustard yellow with smooth dark orange membranes and claw-like spikes at the ends. galaxy’s hamid, on the right, is stepping casually forward with a smug-looking smile, right arm around his double as he looks back at him, and has his left hand on his pocket. he’s dressed in a black suit, with a green vest that has a shining pattern on scales all over it, and black shoes with white spats. his sleeves of many garments are a shiny mauve color and have yellow diamond-shaped cufflinks. he’s fatter, with full cheeks and slightly shorter legs. his skin is dark brown, his hair darker, curly and slicked back. there are two short curls loose on either side of his forehead. his eyeshadow and lipstick are gold, and has less scales on his face but they’ve got more volume to them. he has dark freckles, short sideburns and stubble on his chin. his mauve button-up is has a red cravat tied around the collar, with a green gem keeping it in place. his cape is a reddish-purple, with spiky and curling gold patterns around the edges, the long fall fluttering at the end behind him. the upper section reaches down to his chest and has a vertical parting towards the shoulders, leaving a second layer visible. it is held together by two slim golden chains below his collar. his wind is slimmer and dark-orange, with shining scales on the yellow membranes. the second image, which is a little more sketchy and drawn and colored with a rougher texture, shows the same hamids making a heart with their hands. galaxy’s hamid is to the left and eviee’s to the right, cheek to cheek and smiling. this time, galaxy’s has a more wide-eyed, joyful smile, and eviee’s sports a lopsided grin and a wink. his chain and dangling pink heart earrings are visible now. their hands are joined at the middle, just below their smiles. the hand to the left has gold-painted claws and the one in the right has them painted green. there is a purple heart drawn there between their hands, and the background is a blurry pattern of yellow and orange scales. end ID]
if you don’t want to grapple with any of the consequences of your huge apocalyptic finale event (aside from those that specifically upset your player characters) to the point where you literally plug your ears when asked about it in a q&a then maybe. just maybe. it’s not a fucking good ending
[ID: Two digital illustrations of London in RQG. The first image features London at the beginning of the podcast, it looks intact and mundane. The sky is a dull blue and overcast and the city below looks dreary, with the distant buildings shaded blue in the low light. The closer buildings are mostly red brick of varying shades, and the lightning rail viaduct cuts through the squat buildings. The second image is almost exactly the same as the first was described, except the sky is lit up with the vivid orange of a low sun, smoke curls its way off Big Ben, and the cityscape below is a monochromatic, eerie blue. /end ID]
Wilde could hardly believe it. It was years in the making, between the world falling apart, magic disappearing, and their various coping methods thereafter. But now, there they were, he and Zolf, in front of their new house. They weren’t staying in Wilde’s apartment anymore, no – this was theirs, together.
The crew of the Venga had helped build it. There was no way Wilde and Zolf could build a whole house on their own, and, once Cel learned about a construction project, there was no way to keep them from lending a hand and taking over. The kitchen counters had levers to adjust the height, depending on whether Wilde or Zolf wanted to use them, there was a lift to the attic, and Cel installed a strange cannon-like device that would fire a blanket at someone if they stayed stationary in the living room too long, since both Wilde and Zolf had a penchant for staying up late with their work and falling asleep there.
And now, it was done. Their furniture was in place, the walls had been painted, and the front door was open, waiting for them.
“Ready?” Wilde asked.
It wasn’t as if they hadn’t already been inside while building it, but this was different. This was their first proper entrance to the life they’d thought was out of reach for so long.
“Ready,” Zolf replied. “Come here.”
Wilde stepped closer, not entirely sure what Zolf had planned. The curiosity didn’t last long, however, as Zolf immediately scooped him up into his lap, and then began to wheel his way down the front walk and through the door.
Once they were inside, however, Wilde didn’t abandon his position, and Zolf made no effort to remove him. Instead, Wilde shifted so that he sat sideways in Zolf’s lap and was able to look him in the eye.
“I’m pretty sure that carrying someone over the threshold is something married couples do,” Wilde said, a smirk on his lips.
“Oh, I thought it was just when a couple moved into a new house together.”
“I mean, I’m sure it works like that too.”
Before Wilde could say anything more, Zolf casually added, “Well, when we get married, it’ll be your turn to carry me over the threshold. Then we’re even.”
Wilde’s coy expression faded in an instant as his jaw dropped. Some days he scarcely believed that Zolf had come back to him at all, and that he was still there, still with him after so much time had passed. They still had their bad days, of course, and occasionally Zolf needed significant periods of time to himself, but he never disappeared so drastically anymore. And he always came home.
It had been Wilde’s idea to get a house together in the first place, and part of him still feared that he pushed Zolf too hard with that, even though it had been a vague suggestion at best until Zolf started drawing out shaky designs. He wanted Zolf to always feel welcome, and they needed a place that belonged to both of them, not just to Wilde, if that were to be the case.
But he never considered marriage. Last time he thought about it was when he was a boy, before he started working constant overtime for the Meritocrats, before the world went to pieces, before they had to try and put those pieces back together one by one. He was happy just to have Zolf in his life, someone that would hold him tight when the nightmares came back and who cooked him meals that were seasoned with devotion.
Marriage, though…
Wilde knew when Zolf was teasing, could recognize the glint in his eye and the faintest rise at the corner of his lips, but this was a sincere comment, said without hidden humor or prodding.
“You alright?” Zolf questioned, shaking Wilde from his thoughts.
“Yes!” He answered, a little too readily. “Sorry, I just…” He didn’t want to press this issue, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “‘When we get married’?”
Zolf hesitated. “Is that… bad?”
With a wide smile, Wilde breathed, “Not at all. I didn’t expect it, though, I guess.”
“Yeah, it’s not really something we’ve ever talked about. I don’t know. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I just… I’m finally thinking about my future, believing that I’ll have a future. And when I think about it, you’re always there. It’s taken me a lot longer than it probably should have to realize it and allow myself to realize it, but… I want to stay with you. And not for a couple of months, but as long as you’ll have me. And if one day, you would want me as your husband, then… Yeah, I want that too.”
Wilde couldn’t manage any words. All he could do was bridge the little space between them and wrap his arms around Zolf’s shoulders. He breathed him in and held him tight, so overwhelmed in the best kind of way.
“I would really like that,” he murmured as he drew back from the embrace, meeting Zolf’s nervous gaze and forcing him to look at him.
“It’s not like we have to do anything now,” Zolf added. “We still have things to unpack.”
Wilde chuckled. “Always the pragmatist.” After a pause, he continued, “You’re right though. We should get settled here first, and then maybe we can talk about marriage again later?”
“Yeah.” Despite himself, Zolf smiled, a contagious sight to Wilde.
“Besides, you know I have to put on an extravagant proposal. A simple chat simply won’t do,” he teased, and Zolf let out a laugh.
“Of course you do. Now, get off my lap before you crush what’s left of my legs, you insufferable…”
He couldn’t finish his joking retort. Wilde removed himself from Zolf’s lap, but Zolf stopped him soon after by gently grabbing his hand. Instead of more teasing, he spoke again with sincerity.
“Thank you, Wilde. For being there for me.”
“Always.”
“I want to be there for you. I haven’t always been, but I want to be better.”
Wilde bent down so that he could press a kiss to Zolf’s knuckles.
“We’re both still working on it,” he replied. “We both still have our bad days. You wheel off, I throw myself into my work. But what matters is that we sort it out together, yeah?”
Zolf smiled and gave Wilde’s hand a squeeze. “Yeah. Together.”
Even though the grunt of pain from Kiko was quiet and muffled by clattering wood, Azu heard it from the far side of the structure that would, according to Cel, one day become a ship. She moved swiftly to her side and knelt down next to her.
“Kiko? Are you alright?”
“I just cut my hand, it’s fine.” She held out her arm to show Azu the gash that now ran from back of her hand and partially down her forearm.
Instinctively, Azu took Kiko’s injured hand in her own and shut her eyes tight. Under her breath, she murmured a prayer to Aphrodite, begging her to heal Kiko and keep her safe in this and in all things.
When she opened her eyes and saw that the wound had not sealed itself up in a glow of pink, she let out a defeated sigh.
Azu nodded. “Sometimes I think that if… that if I pray hard enough, she’ll still hear me.” Then she shook her head. “I have some bandages. We should clean this up before it gets infected.”
As Azu tenderly cleaned and bandaged Kiko’s injury with the supplies she kept on her person at all times, Kiko watched her features with a mixture of concern and admiration.
“There you go, all set. I’ll change the bandages later and see how it’s doing.”
Despite her words, Azu continued holding Kiko’s hand, and Kiko made no attempt to pull away.
“Listen, I don’t know how it all works now. But… if Aphrodite is still out there, I know she can hear you,” Kiko insisted. “And maybe she can’t help you with spells or healing anymore, but she’s still here, in her own way.”
Azu let out a heavy breath. “I just don’t know. It’s hard. It feels… empty, now.”
Kiko squeezed Azu’s hand a little tighter. “I’m sorry. And I know nothing can fill that void. But she’s the goddess of love. As long as there’s love in the world, she’s still here. As long as you still love - and you love so muchandso deeply - then she’s still there with you, even if it’s hard to feel her presence. And you are so strong to keep going, to keep fighting and believing in her when you can’t hear her call back to you.”
With a shudder, Azu slumped forward against Kiko, who wrapped her arms around her and tugged her as far into her lap as she could manage. Azu didn’t cry, but her fingers shook as she made fists in Kiko’s shirt, pain and despair and loss all mingling together as one. A few moments later, she released her grip somewhat so that she could meet Kiko’s gaze.
“It’s hard to be without her. But you’re right. As long as there’s love in the world, Aphrodite is still here. And maybe I can’t feel her anymore, not in the same way, but maybe she can still hear me.”
Kiko caressed Azu’s cheek. “For what it’s worth, I do know that there will always be love in the world so long as I’m around.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Because I love you.”
Azu smiled and chuckled, then pressed a quick kiss to Kiko’s lips. “I love you too.”
“And I’m not saying that to try and distract you from losing your god or anything, I just-”
“I know. It helps. Youhelp.”
“You do too.” Kiko gestured with her bandaged hand. “Not just with healing, but… in so many ways. I don’t know much about gods, but I do know that I love you, and nothing can change that.”
The morning after the reunion, Zolf wheeled himself out of his room in the back of the inn next to The Soggy Captain, attempting to open and close the door as quietly as possible. He knew it was early. Not like he’d been having much luck sleeping since, well, everything started, and even before then. He wanted to get some time to himself and roll around the city a bit before the ominous looking rain clouds decided to drench them.
However, he rolled out of his room and immediately saw Wilde, stepping out of his own room a few doors down the hall.
“Oh, good morning, Zolf,” he said with a smile. A sincere smile, though his eyes betrayed the myriad of emotions fluctuating beneath the surface.
“Yeah, ‘morning. Didn’t realize you were staying here.”
“Well, I figured it was best to find a room close by in case the festivities got bit toofestive.”
Zolf nodded. “Fair.” He paused for a moment, during which time he and Wilde could only look over the other, really taking them in for the first time in years.
“We didn’t get to talk too much last night,” Zolf continued, looking at his lap. “And there’s a lot I want to say. You know I’m not good with words, but-”
“It’s okay, Zolf.”
“No, it’s not, I left. Leaving is all I seem to be good at.”
Wilde moved toward him, hand outstretched as if to comfort him, but he stopped a few steps short. He still held out his hand, as if unsure of what to do.
“The short version is: I’m sorry,” Zolf said. He made sure to meet Wilde’s gaze this time, even as tears began to roll down his cheeks. “The long version is-”
“We don’t have to do that now if you don’t want,” Wilde interjected. “We’ll have time for that later. I forgive you. And, like I said, the door is always open for you.”
“I don’t want you to have to wait for me.”
“I don’t know how much choice either of us have in that.”
Zolf looked over Wilde again, grateful at least that the man seemed to be taking better care of himself now. And this was without Zolf making use of his kitchen and crafting him a variety of meals.
“There is one thing for right now. Can I… We didn’t… Can I hug you?” Zolf felt so small as he asked that, and he hated the way his voice quivered with the question.
Wilde smiled wide, his own tears starting to fall. He knelt down next to Zolf’s chair and pulled him into a tight embrace. Zolf hugged him back, burying his face in Wilde’s neck and letting the tears fall freely.
After what could only barely begin to make up for the embraces they missed in their years apart, they separated, though Wilde still remained on his knees as he wiped Zolf’s tear-stained cheeks.
“It really is good to see you again,” Zolf whispered, holding onto Wilde’s arm as if it was the only thing keeping him from being rolled away and never coming back.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
Before they could say anything more, a loud “Hello!” erupted from the main area of the inn, followed quickly by a scream and the hasty movement of some furniture.
“You don’t think… is Einstein staying here too?” Zolf asked.
Wilde shook his head. “How long do you think he was hiding in thatcupboard?”
“Do you think he slept there?”
With a faint chuckle, Wilde stood. “Shall we go see what he’s done now?”
“Yeah, let’s go. And, Wilde?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you. For everything. You’re… You’re better than I deserve.”
“I don’t care about ‘deserve.’ I want you around, I want you in my life. And that’s more than good enough for me.”
Day 9 of @the-line-is-erased:The Vengeance and Northern Wastes - Mortality - The things we’ve lost and the things we’ve found.
Skraak struggles with Meerk’s choice to stay dead
Skraak grabbed another cup of the warm drink they’d been served – he didn’t know exactly what it was – and then retreated from the rest of the group. They were exuberant and loud, and he just needed a little space.
They found a small place to sit and think, not drinking the beverage but letting its heat seep through their scales.
“Hey, little buddy?”
With a heavy exhale, Skraak looked up at Cel, poking their head around the corner of the bunks.
“Hi, Cel. Is everything alright?” They replied.
“I mean, I don’t know. I saw you slip out and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” They paused for a moment, then quickly added, “And if you’re not okay, or even if you are, and you want to be alone, I’ll go, just say the word. But if you do want company, I’m here for you.”
For a moment, Skraak hesitated, then sighed. “I miss Meerk.”
“Oh.” Cel took a seat next to them, careful to leave enough space between them so they weren’t smothering them. “I miss him too. I know it’s not the same; you knew him way longer than I did, and you went through the same horrible things at Shoin’s, but…”
Skraak nodded. He fiddled with the cup in his hands and looked into the steam instead of facing Cel. “It’s hard. I saw him there, in that ritual thing. They were happy! And it was so loud.” They smiled as they remembered Meerk’s joy in the cacophony. “And of course I’m glad that you were able to bring Sassraa back, and that the other two are back too. But… I still feel… I still wish…”
“You wish Meerk had come back too.”
“Yeah. And I feel like it’s my fault he didn’t. If someone else had gone in after them, maybe they’d be here.” He shook his head. “Which is selfish. He’s happy. And safe. That’s what matters.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t miss him.”
“And when everyone else is so happy, it drowns out our mourning. Not that that’s bad, it’s just… hard to be around all the time. Do you think…” He paused, then set down his mug on a nearby end table. “Can I have a hug?”
“Of course!”
Skraak fell into Cel’s open arms, and they squeezed them tight as their tears poured forth. The pair sat like that for a good long while, holding each other close and rocking back and forth in a gentle, relaxing pattern.
“Thank you,” Skraak croaked as he pulled away and wiped his face.
Cel put a hand on their shoulder and gave a sympathetic smile. “Do you want some company? Maybe tell me some stories about Meerk? Or we can just sit in silence.”
“Yeah, that would…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “No, you should go back to the others. Enjoy the festivities. Besides, I’m sure you have more flirting to do with Barnes.”
Instead of leaving, Cel scooched back and settled in beside Skraak, giving no indication of going anywhere.
“I can flirt later. Right now, I’m here for you.”
Skraak smiled up at them. “Thank you. Thank you for being here.”
“You’re welcome. After all, that’s what friends are for.”
Day 7 of @the-line-is-erased:Rome - Sacrifice - Things hidden in history that will never come to light.
Thinking bout those goblin kiddos
“Grizzop? Are you asleep?”
“No. Are you?”
“Obviously not.”
Grizzop let out a huff of acknowledgement, but a faint sob escaped his lips at the same time, just loud enough for Sasha to take note. She rolled over to face him.
“Are you alright?” She asked.
The obvious answer for both of them was ‘no.’ They were trapped in the past, and Grizzop had the added bonus of his surroundings being particularly hostile to anyone who wasn’t human. But the life he left behind was so much fuller than anyone may have realized.
“I have… I have kids,” he said quietly.
At that, Sasha’s eyes opened wide with surprise, and she practically bolted out of her makeshift bedroll. “You’re a dad!?”
“Me and Vesseek, we-”
“You and Vesseek!?”
“Sasha!” He cried in a whisper. “We’re supposed to be laying low, not waking everyone up because we’re yelling.”
“Fine. It’s just a lot, you know?” Despite her protestations, she lowered her voice to a more manageable level. “I had no idea you were a dad.”
Grizzop sighed. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but he trusted Sasha, and it wasn’t like he had much to lose since they were stuck in the literal past anyway.
“Yeah, Vesseek and I, we have a clutch. Vesseek looks after them while I do my paladin stuff, and I send whatever money I make back to them.”
“Must be hard to leave them all the time.”
“It is.” Grizzop tried not to think about how he might never see them again, never hold Vesseek again, never hear his kids call out ‘Papa!’ again. “But if I can make the world a little safer for them, then it’s worth it. Got to make sure they have a future, right?”
Sasha nodded, but said nothing, silently scanning Grizzop’s features.
“Here, this is them.” He handed over a magical photograph of his family. “It took almost an hour to get everyone to sit still for that.”
“I believe it,” Sasha chuckled as she looked over the image in the dim light of their safehouse.
Grizzop continued. “And it just hit me… I always knew there was a risk that I would die while doing my duty, and that I would leave my family behind. But now… now I’ll be living out the rest of my life without them. The thought of spending however long I have left without ever seeing them again, it…”
There was another sob again, building up in his throat, but he swallowed it down and shut his eyes tight.
With his eyes closed, he didn’t see Sasha reach out for him, but he felt her place a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to get back,” she insisted. “You’re going to see them again.”
“I hope so.” He let out a heavy exhale, then took the picture back from Sasha and tucked it carefully into his armor. “And if we arestuck here, it’s not like I’m going to be overly reckless or anything. There’s still plenty that needs fixing here, plenty of good to be done.”
“Don’t worry, Grizzop, we’ll get you home. After all, you have to introduce me to all your kids. I can’t wait to teach them some knife tricks.”
“Absolutely not!” He shrieked, and Sasha burst out laughing. “That’s a disaster waiting to happen!”
Day 5 of @the-line-is-erased:Cairo - Mistakes - Noble dragons don’t have friends.
“I understand that you were there when Aziza died.”
Hamid hated how small his father made him feel. It was a different kind of smallness than being around someone like Bertie, who was huge and imposing physically. Hamid’s father had a piercing gaze that cut through to his bone and a tone that could quell a storm.
“Yes, Father, I was. I was there with my friends, my mercenary group.”
“And you couldn’t save her?”
Hamid wrung his hands. “We tried. There was a lot going on, there was a necromancer, and… It was a horrible accident; it shouldn’t have happened. She shouldn’t have been in the crossfire.”
Saleh huffed. “I see. Just another of your mistakes then.”
All of Hamid’s breath left him in an instant. Saleh turned and left, but Hamid forgot how to move his feet. The only movement he could muster was the pounding of his heart, the quivering of his lip, and the racing of his mind.
“It was an accident! A mistake!" A younger Hamid yelled, standing over the shattered pieces of a priceless vase as his father glared down at him. He had been racing through the house with his siblings, playing, as kids were want to do, but such childish behavior did not suit the heirs to the al-Tahan name, especially when they were so careless as to not watch where they were going.
"I don’t know what happened, it was an accident, I swear.” This Hamid is a little older. He could still feel his fingers tingle with the warmth of the first fire spell he ever cast, the first manifestation of his magic. It was a brotherly spat between himself and Saleh Jr, leaving a singed bit of wallpaper in their wake. But there were to be no excuses for either of them when their father saw the mark.
“Father, I made a mistake. There was an accident at university…” It had only been a matter of months, but this Hamid felt lifetimes younger than the one replaying these memories in his head. That was the coldest Saleh had ever been to him, as if he wasn’t already chastising himself enough internally.
Or at least, it was the coldest he’d ever been to Hamid until he let Aziza die.
In the suffocating miasma of disdain that Saleh left behind long after he stepped away from that conversation, Hamid knew that he would never prove himself to his father. All he could do was try to prove worthy to himself.
~~~
As Hamid and the others climbed onto the rooftop, the infected city of London below them, he felt the chill of fear race up his spine. This was it.
In the back of his mind, he heard the faintest melody.
“Thank you, Aziza,” he breathed almost silently. “I may be seeing you soon. But… let’s finish this.”
And as Hamid faced down dragon fire, he knew that he might never make up for his past mistakes, but at least he could do right in that moment. Whether or not his father would ever see his worth was his problem. Hamid knew who he was.
And with Aziza singing to him from beyond, he was the one who would help them save the entire world.
Wilde sees Guivres break free from Apophis’ grasp, sees her fly toward the tower, sees her ascend so that Zolf and Babbage are directly in front of her.
No one can survive fire breath at that close range, not even Zolf, who thinks himself both invulnerable and expendable all at once.
He sees Zolf stare down Guivres, recognizing the resolve in his gaze even from so far away, and he knows that this is the end.
In an instant, he flies upwards. In the seconds before fire consumes them, he hovers next to Zolf and puts his hands on his shoulders.
“We’ve got this.”
Wilde has been dead before. It was peaceful in its way, with no one pestering him for another job to do, no persona to play or airs to put on. But it was lonely.
And as the fire consumes them in burning light, at least Wilde takes solace that this time he won’t be alone.
I’m a day behind, but here’s Day 1 of @the-line-is-erased:London- Seeds - The time before our story began; the time after it ended.
Hamid barely recognized the entryway amidst the rubble and decaying roots that still clung to every surface even if their omnipotence was no longer intact. With a faint smile and a shake of his head, he made his way to the door which was hanging off its hinges and stepped inside his old apartment.
His days at university seemed like a lifetime ago. Parties with his friends – or, more accurately, the people he wanted to impress so that they wouldn’t make him a target of their harassment – had caused their fair share of damage to the apartment, but he never cared back then. He’d just have someone clean up the mess so that he could continue to live in blissful ignorance.
But now the place was falling apart. A large root tendril broke through the ceiling of the living room such that anyone taller than Hamid would have to duck to navigate through the space. The furniture was toppled and broken, and a thick layer of dust coated all that remained.
As Hamid stepped through the space, he felt something beneath his feet, and noticed that his selection of fine liqueurs had fallen and smashed into the floor. In the shattered glass that littered the once plush carpet, Hamid could still hear Bertie’s ridiculous boasts, as if they echoed off of the shards after all this time.
Back when it was him, Bertie, Zolf, and Sasha, the place almost felt like a home, even if they only spent a few days there. After he got kicked out of university, the apartment was hollow and empty, while also acting as a suffocating reminder that he would never be good enough for his parents, never be able to prove himself to his father. But with all of them there, it was full. Bertie always knew how to fill the space, certainly, but even with Sasha silently working on bombs (of all things!) in the corner and Zolf sulking in a chair though he never allowed himself to relax completely, the rooms finally felt lived in.
There! There was still that mark on the wall from where one of Sasha’s bombs went wrong and poofed in her face, a bit of soot still marking the occasion. And over there, that was where Zolf nodded off and Bertie startled him, making Zolf stab out wildly with his trident and hit the wall on accident. And that chair, that’s the one Wilde was lounging in when they first met.
Hamid raced between memories and smiled at each one, until he tripped on a table leg and went crashing to the ground. Collapsed on his knees, he started to cry. The world was so different now. Bertie and Sasha were gone, and Grizzop too, though he never got to spend any time there with the rest of them. Their memories were all he had left. And Zolf was still around, but he was different. Though… Hamid supposed he was different now too.
He knew he was a better person than he was when he lived in that apartment. He’d just helped save the damn world, for goodness’s sake! But he looked back on the times they’d had there, and, for the slightest moment, he wished that he could relive them and truly commit them to memory so that he would never forget.
As Hamid crawled back to his feet and made to leave the apartment, giving it one last look, he smiled again. It had been a wild ride. And even with everything he’d lost, the friends wrenched from his grasp, there’s nowhere else he would rather have been than in the thick of the adventure. No matter what came next, he would always remember the family he made along the way and how they made any space a home.
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