Mother, Tell Me What To Do- Event

[missrecalled_mods]

It began with flowers. Now, flowers were nothing new to Auradon, but these were clearly no ordinary flowers. For one thing, they were distinctly not native to the area, looking much more like they hailed from somewhere far more tropical, though even should anyone- Missrecalled or local- be familiar with such things, they wouldn't be able to identify what species they were or exactly where they might be from. For another, rather than growing over time, they'd all just simply appeared overnight. And they'd appeared everywhere. From outdoor spaces where one would usually find flowers, to all sorts of places indoors where one normally wouldn't find them. Draped in living garlands around the shoulders of suits of armor. Twining around the legs of tables and chairs. Literally sprouting right out of the woodwork or wallpaper in places. 

Avoiding them entirely would be difficult, though doable if one were particularly determined. Fortunately, aside from their mysterious appearance and their sudden ubiquitousness they seem to be harmless. They even smell nice, though no two people will be able to agree on exactly what the smell is like, just that it's pleasant.

However some of the flowers will randomly cause something odd to occur. Touching one, or breathing in too deeply from one of the random flowers will draw forth a memory for all nearby to see and hear. Only one memory will display at a time, and anyone in the area can see and hear it, but only those close enough to have caught the scent of that particular flower will get the full effect. They'll see the figures and setting as solid, and may experience subtle additional effects related to the memory, such as the feeling of a breeze or the smell of cooking food. Anyone else will see and hear everything fine, but will not experience any additional sensations and will see the scene as somewhat transparent. The figures aren't solid, they just seem like that to anyone who was close enough to smell the flower when it triggered.

The memory, oddly enough, will not be from the perspective of the one it belongs to; they and their companion or companions will be observing from a third party perspective, thus allowing a person to see their own face in the memories without the aid of a mirror. Nor can the memories be interacted with; those viewing them are observers only, and while they'll be able to hear the figures in the memory and each other speaking, no one in the memories will be able to hear or perceive them in any way. The memories vary in content and tone from person to person, for obvious reasons, but a common thread will soon be spotted: all the memories involve the person's mother or similar maternal figure. Generally they are more likely to be positive memories, if such memories exist. 

Once the memory fades that flower looses its ability and becomes just like any other flower in this event. However another flower nearby might have been activated...

Picking one of the flowers and taking it back to their rooms- which are one of the few places that remain entirely flower-free, for some reason- will result in the person having vivid dreams of their mothers or maternal figures. Again, while the content of those dreams will vary widely for obvious reasons, in Auradon, the tone will be generally positive. Perhaps bright and cheerful, perhaps nostalgic and somewhat melancholy, but the dreams will be generally good ones, and those who have them will wake feeling generally refreshed and like they slept well. The dreams are just that, dreams. Even those with no memories of their mothers can have these dreams - but in the drams they will have a mother, and the dream will center around that maternal figure one way or another. Again, these are dreams and our minds can create the sweetest fantasies when so inspired. These dreams will linger one day past the event for every day the flowers had been kept in the bedroom. Also, oddly, of the flowers people pick will show no signs of wilting or drying out, even days after being picked no matter where they're left.

Then, after a week, all the flowers- whether picked or left alone - vanish overnight, just as suddenly as they appeared. A strange phenomenon, to be sure, but once it's over, other concerns will likely take precedence once again. After all, something like that couldn't possibly happen again, right? 

Comments

TENTATIVE but have a Nita

[unfavorableinstigation]

Nita was not pleased - getting hallucinogens in the face without her consent would do that to a person, after all.

And, as far as she could tell, there was no part of the island the flowers would not spread to.

So, after enough hours had passed, Nita had set up a small corner near to the ocean, shields out and strong, an odd blue in contrast to the sea's own shades.

She'd brought out a mattress, and a few other assortments from her room (since she could opaque the shield when needed), and she would venture out across Auradon for certain things, but for the time being this had become her safe space.

She would not avoid conversations about her mother if asked, however. Talking about her was tough, sometimes, but not that kind of tough.

ITP: butterflies!! ♥ Open to all!

[queen_butterfly]

She could be any number of places, honestly, when the memory-share started anew. The butterflies could've very well been normal butterflies... except that they were in all sorts of colors, from bright pinks to pure white, some solid, some striped or spotted, or textured, or in gradients, or what even looked quite a bit like a fine pattern intended to be camouflage to blend in with wood or green leaves, the wings' shapes in about as many varieties as there were colors and patterns. They weren't randomly off-color petals, as they quickly proved by flapping and jumping from one flower to the next...

No, not one flower to the next. One fruit to the next. One leaf to the next. These odd butterflies weren't on the magically exotic flowers that covered the area, but on other plants, trees of some kind -- figs? ...not figs precisely, but something that looked vaguely related, though with large spherical black berries hanging everywhere on their twigs and branches, instead of bigger, more pear-shaped fruits -- and little oval things hanging among it all, in just as many colors as the butterflies on them.

Whether the passerby leaned in to see the scene better out of curiosity, or the magic pulled them into witnessing it, it would become clear enough in short order that these were not typical butterflies after all. Their heads were bigger than usual. They weren't clinging to the surfaces with their bodies parallel to them, but holding to them with only their hind four legs, standing closer to perpendicular, using their front two limbs as arms and hands. Their fur was arranged in lengths, in tufts and curls that suggested proper hair on their head and skirts, or perhaps dresses, with some of their coloration. Perhaps most interestingly to anyone who'd studied entomology, not a single one of the odd butterflies present had a proboscis, but instead had biting mouth parts.

One small part of the scene in particular would steal their focus for a moment: a few of these oddly humanoid-seeming butterflies tending to one of those little oval things, a black one, as it wiggled where it hung. One leaned down and carefully bit into a small ridge in the shape, and dug its tiny hands into it, pulling the surface back to let another, softer shape climb out more easily, dark black and shiny. What looked like crumpled-up petals soon proved to belong to the new thing climbing out, a dark butterfly like the others, though not quite in the same shape. It was new still, only just then climbing out of its chrysalis, and its wings had yet to spread and stiffen. The others were helping pull it up onto a nearby leaf, where they left it to jump away and do... whatever it was they were going to do next. Probably help another of the new butterflies climb out. Maybe go eat something.

The new black butterfly wasn't wasting any time in preening itself out, already trying to spread those new, still-soft wings of theirs... and there, as they opened, the hind edges were revealed to be a deep, dark purple color which disappeared up into the black in short order.

It wasn't just any butterfly. Its wings' coloration and pattern looked suspiciously similar to Mallia's dress. The same velvety-dark black, the same brilliant, clear hue at the lower hems, not so much striped as in panes as it disappeared up into the rest of the fabric at her skirt and sleeves and cape.

The scene lingered a bit, and then no sooner did it fade, than another started up, with another focus: that same black butterfly, being preened on by another butterfly. It didn't seem like it was one of the ones from the previous vision, but some random older member of the odd insect species. Another scene, a black caterpillar with a few bits of purple here and there, being preened on by yet other butterflies. Or being helped to a berry.

Another scene, a lady with the same subtly-pointed ears as Mallia smiled. She held something small out on her hand, waiting patiently as the black one and a few others settled onto her fingers and palm, reaching forward to take some, unafraid. She said something softly, in a foreign language. Hello, lovelies. Go ahead, eat up. There's plenty more to go around....

Another scene, a different elven lady, leaning her back against one of those trees, holding a bowl with moss in it, and dark wine. Those strange butterflies were on her hair, on her shoulders and arms, and on the moss, in the bowl, drinking their fill. She grinned, careful as she moved, watching the tiny creatures drink themselves to silliness and then climb up out of the bowl to rest on her instead. One of them, the black and purple one, tried to fly away, only to weave around unsteadily and manage to fly right into the lady's skirt, and then bounce off of her and land in the grass. The elf lady laughed as she apologized, and carefully crouched to reach down, letting the butterfly climb up onto her sleeve.

More scenes could play out: other butterflies -- fairies -- doing their little fairyfly things, preening one another, sharing food -- sharing fruit and smaller insects, apparently serving the ecological functions of both pollinator and pest control. A few other elves, apparently regarding the tiny fluttery figures as something like pets, or tiny people, playing with them, talking to them, feeding them. The only true constant seemed to be the black butterfly with purple edges on its wings, or the black-and-purple caterpillar.

In fact, enough scenes were playing out, if one stayed there long enough without interrupting, that it was becoming clear that something was going on here to keep causing them. Between visions, there was a flutter of the same black and purple butterfly among the odd flowers, climbing into them, and then after a bit, climbing back out, only to hop to another and enter that one.

But go figure: it was a butterfly, and flowers held nectar. Sweet, delicious nectar!

And if one were observant, they might even have spotted a phone lying somewhere, dropped by some inattentive Auradon resident.... Because Mallia forgot she was carrying it, and thus it fell, when she shifted to her tiny fairy form. Oops?

Re: ITP: butterflies!! ♥ Open to all!

[nadenagi]

On the first day, Nagihiko had been rushing back to the dorms, shaken, when he spotted the memories here and stopped to watch, almost transfixed.

After a few of the short ones he sat in the grass to keep watching, eyes wide. He wasn't fully sure what he was seeing. These... weren't charas. Given the colour, not even batsucharas. And they didn't feel evil or full of despair, anyway. So what were they?

[queen_butterfly]

There, another pause between scenes, and the one dark fluttery shape to remain between them climbed back out of a flower. It paused, dark wings opening and closing a few times to help steady itself as the movement of its weight on a petal caused it to bob while it preened itself for a second... and then it leapt off, flapping more as it turned to land on another flower nearby. It climbed into that one next, intent on searching for more of that sweet nectar....

The scene around them changed, and the child would find himself sitting across from another figure, a young lady of the same apparent elven species as Mallia, giggling as she covered the mouth of her wine bottle with her finger as she poured some into a shallow bowl with flowers in it, preventing a yellow butterfly from taking the opportunity to climb up inside it. She carefully slid the stopper back into it while the yellow one climbed over her finger still, still seeking the wine.

"It's down there," she managed, carefully passing the bottle off to her other hand so she could lower the bug to the bowl. It took her a few tries to change her hand's position so that the fluttery thing would end up on one of the flowers as it continued to climb her, not quite catching on to what she was attempting to show it.

But there, in the bowl... that wasn't a shadow or a dead leaf, it was that black-and-purple butterfly again, opening its wings and backing up as the yellow one bapped it with a wing, trying to find footing on the stems.

"Have you already--? How did-- I...." The young lady laughed, shaking her head, and opened the bottle again to refill the bowl again. She'd only just done so, and yet the black butterfly and only a few others had made that liquid disappear, despite it being bigger than they were. It should've been logically impossible, but the young-looking elf didn't bat an eye at it, merely kept it coming. "All right, all right... I can take a hint!"

One of the other oddly large butterflies seemed to have enough of the wine, and turned to hop onto a leaf that was closer to the observing human, letting the other pretty little creatures have more space. It also gave Nagihiko a better up-close view of it: narrower wings than some of the others, a wavy pattern of blues across it. Its tiny body didn't look quite like other butterflies', fur suggesting a skirt or longer dress over its hind four legs, and it preened its tiny face with its forelegs, much like one would expect someone to do with their hands, licking the blackish stains off itself.

It looked... rather humanoid, really, the way it stood like that, the furry little tuft of hair on the top and back of its head poofy with tiny curls, looking for all the world like hair. Its eyes were huge on such a tiny head... but for all that it was an insect, if one simply squinted just a little....

It really did seem to be a scene of an elf supplying a good dozen or more tiny fairies with as much drink as they'd take.

And that black and purple one, come back out from the flower nearby looking just as it had while indulging in the bowl of libations, was preening itself again, just as the blue one had been, in the now-vanishing scene. It was near enough... perhaps he could get a better look at it in the present reality, if he were careful?

Sorry, paid ran out >.<

[nadenagi]

"What... in the world...." he whispered, so confused.

[queen_butterfly]

The big dark butterfly paused, looking in his direction when he spoke. It tilted its little head, watching him a moment, considering... and then, very deliberately this time, climbed down to another flower, hoping to prompt another display.

As intended, another memory was shown for them: among the branches of some trees, one of the fairyflies was bringing some little tidbit of fruit to a dark-colored, fat little caterpillar-looking thing. The older fairy seemed to be trying to make sure that the fruit would stay in the baby's grip before letting go... but as the baby bit into it, it slipped anyway, and the older fairy quickly grabbed it again, to help hold it there.

They were at least somewhat social little creatures, it seemed... and odd as it may have looked, for a tiny creature like that to have such an obvious face as it did... it did look to be rather happy, munching away at what had started out as probably half of a berry.

The real fairy jumped away from the flower to land nearby, to get a better view of the scene before it faded. When it did, they turned to peek back up to the human, waiting for a reaction to the memory-display.

So, what did he think?

[nadenagi]

"This... if this is some sort of Batsu-chara attack... it is unlike any I've ver seen," he whispered, hand sliding into his pocket. "I... wish Amu-chan was here..."

Greg | OTA | See replies for memories or feel free to tag into the intro in the TL

[gregorydeegan]

Greg had no clue that his arrival was at such an odd time for this world, but if he had... he would have figured that was just his luck. That sort of thing seemed to happen more to his brother Dominic than it did to him, but they all had a touch of it. He just wished Dominic had warned him this was going to happen. He would have packed. Well, at least his bro would let Pam and Dex know he was okay. Of course another thing he'd love to have been warned against is that his brother's cat had been using his face around some of the people here in his "Gar" form...

Anyway, it was time to figure out where he was, and why, and either get home or wait for someone to come fetch him.

"Well, no slime, so I know that much at least." Since no one else from home was here, if he had been sent by Dejah he would be covered with slime. Or Luna would if she was with him. Dejah always seemed to slime Luna.

"But where am I?" he continued to wonder out loud. After all, that usually got him an answer. But while he waited he would look around. A lovely green lawn. Vibrantly green. Lots of flowers, a bit of a sense of wildness reclaiming what had once been lovingly tended, but all still healthy and welcoming. Oh cool! This must be what Maltak was like back in his dad's stories. No one was so good with a half wild garden as an Orc! Or so his father always said. Then again... His father also said his name was little man who wears pink and comes to do your taxes in the fall. At least, when he was speaking Orcish.

Then Greg spotted the school. "Okay, not Maltak then, Orcs don't like castles..."

And then as he turned again, his walking stick brushed a flower, triggering a memory...

Momma Bear Memory | CW for violence, child harm, wounds, devil magic, and a really bad villian name

[gregorydeegan]

It was a horrible memory. But it was also in some ways one of the best. The moment he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that his mother would always, always protect them. Also the moment he knew his mother was quite so... well he didn't know the word back then that he'd use now - and she'd have washed his mouth out with soap if he had - so he'd stick with awesome. Still, seeing it from the outside was a bit of a shock...


(Warning for skimpy/ripped clothing in the image)Miranda Deegan stood between her boys and the Necromancer, wounded but not by any means out of the fight. At the time Greg had been in so much pain and was so terrified that he couldn't think or process much. But now, seeing it this way...?

Greg was the littlest of the boys, his red hair standing up in fright as he clung to the middle boy who was also scared. What Greg had not seen at the time, what he had to face now...



Greg stared at the oldest brother in the memory. Jacob. "He... He was smiling," he whispered, swallowing hard and shaking slightly. Dominic had been right. Again. Their brother... really was evil. Really did hate them. Greg... really had been naive. To whoever was there, he would point to each person in turn. "In the back there is my brother, Jacob," he whispered, then shaking his head he put some strength in his voice. "That's Dominic. He's a seer now," he said pointing to the middle boy in his glasses. He looked like a mix of child nerd and grouch old man, even at that age. "And me." he pointed. "That's Helixia," he pointed to the woman in black. "The day she almost killed our mom." And them. "And that..." he looked at the wounded woman standing to protect the boys. "That's my mom," he said, with clear admiration.

The battle raged in the memory. Miranda, the mother, was no slouch, but it was clear quickly that Helixia has two advantages - Miranda couldn't move much as she was protecting the three boys behind her, and Helixia... healed Really really quickly.

In fact, watching the brutal fight for a while made Miranda look ridiculously powerful because she was more than holding her own through this. In fact, it was Helixia who took far more hits, even if those hits seemed to little matter.

Helixia only managed one hit on the boys in the whole memory. She feigned a spell at Jacob and when Miranda moved to block it, she cast one at Greg with her other hand. Black lines wrapped around him, tearing their way through his clothes until he looked like he was wrapped in black spiderweb waring only rags.

"GREG!" Her mother yelled. She raised a hand towards their foe. "You will leave my family alone, Helixia!" Miranda ordered, hand glowing, blood flowing.

"Wow, almost scared," the woman in black said. "Except your brat is almost dead, you're next in line to follow him, old lady and me? Not a scrat...."

Her gloating was cut off as Miranda launched herself into her midsection, both women flying out of the house, through what was left of the wall.

The memory faded as Greg lost sight of them as they flew off in the distance. Actually flew.


Greg stared at where the memory faded, then looked to whoever was watching with him and offered a small smile. "My mom's pretty amazing, huh?"

Yep, that was all he planned to say. No comment about his wounds or his brother...

Her brightest boy

[gregorydeegan]

Greg was a little older in this memory. He had a blanket around his shoulders over his long sleeved shirt and long pants, but thin strands of black showed poking up from under his clothes. Like a spider web or like black cracks in a mirror it crept up his neck towards his face and towards both hands along his arms. On foot was almost fully black.

Miranda sat beside him, one hand on his back, glowing energy flowing from that hand, visibly, into his back as he poured over the huge book on the table in front of him.

"I just... hafta make a light?" he asked, looking up at his mother.

She gave him a warm encouraging smile. "Exactly. That'll be a good start. You've been doing so well with your studies, it is time to try doing what you've been reading about."

He beamed brightly. "And then I'll be strong enough to do all sortsa things, cause white magic is the best against n...neck.... neckry..."

"Necromantic," she corrected gently.

"Right! Necromantic blight!" he said, then grinned. "If I am really smart at this, does that mean I'm bright at being bright to fight the blight?"

Miranda looked pained. "Did your father tell you to say that?" she asked, her free hand pinching the bride of her nose.

"Nope," he said, then blinked, "you think that was good enough to be dad's?" he asked awed.

"You know," he said, watching his mother's face, "A small wonder I survived this long," he said with a laugh. Then he froze as she seemed to turn to face current him to glare. He shuddered. "She can do her evil eye through time too!? NOT FAIR!"

After a glare at the fourth wall that little Greg didn't notice she focused on the young boy again. "You can ask your dad after your studies what he thinks of it. But let's focus for now. Why is White Magic so strong against the Necromantic Blight?" she asked, sounding like a teacher.

"Because NEcromancy's all dark and about death and stuff, and white magic 's all healing and light. They're opposites, like night an' day. So using white magic against the blight.... that's kinda like a night light then!"

Another fourth wall glare then she kissed his hair. "Something like that, Greg. As a side note, kindly remind me to suggest to your father her's overdue for another trip abroad."

Little Greg looked confused, but shrugged. "So I should try now?" he asked.

Miranda nodded. "Go ahead, but remember, as infected with the blight a you are, you probably wont be able to manifest anything visible yet."

He nodded and lifted his hands, focusing. His tongue poked out of his mouth as he stared at the air in front of his hands. At first there was nothing, but then a ball of light appeared over his hands, glowing cheerfully.

Miranda looked shocked for a moment, but covered quickly, before little Greg could notice.

The light grew brighter and brighter. She reached her free hand out and cupped it and it went out. She then grabbed Greg's shoulders gently and turned him to face her. "I need to talk to you seriously now, Greg. Alright?"

His eyes wide with wonder he nodded, though the kept glancing back to where the light had been.

"To be able to summon that much light, on your first try, at your age is impressive, even without the blight. With the blight in play.. Greg, listen to me sweetie. This is important. You apparently inherited a lot of power. You are very strong already and you'll get stronger if you practice and study."

"Strong 'nough to walk on my own?" he asked, eyes widening further still. "Really? I'll be able to walk again!?"

A small chuckle as she tried to smile for him, but there was pain in her expression even as she nodded. "And more than that in time, I suspect. But Greg... when someone is powerful there is always the urge to use that power for everything, and to use it too strongly when it isn't needed, and that can hurt people if you're not careful."

"But... It's white magic, so if I hurt someone I can just heal them up and appologize, right?"

"Not always, sweetie. Some people can't be healed by magic. And even if they could... If I took that comic book you've been writing with your brother and ripped it up, even if I put it back together, you'd still be upset I hurt you like that. Even though magic can fix a lot of harm, it is alway best to not do the harm in the first place. And even with white magic you can hurt someone accidentally. I'll keep working with you, and we'll make sure you get all the training you need, sweetie. But you need to promise me not to practice without me or a teacher with you, okay? And I want you to always think... before you use magic, is this something you could do without it? Magic is a bit like a tool and a bit like a muscle. You can do great things with it, but it isn't always the right tool for the job. And if you use magic only and not the other tools... it would be like if you only ever used one arm. It would get all muscular and strong, but your other side would get weak and frail and you'd be all lopsided."

"I'd fall down even more than I do now...." he whispered.

She nodded. "And worse, maybe."

"But how could it be the wrong tool if it works?" he asked, curiously.

"Well, let's say you and I were building a shelf, and there was a screw and a screw hole. The screwdriver would be the right tool. You probably could use a hammer to get the screw into the hole, but that could damage and split the wood in ways we can't see at first, but on day somebody could put something heavy on the shelf..."

"And if I do and it breaks I could really hurt my shelf," he agreed nodding sagely. Then... "Mom, why do you look like you ate a lemon?" Before he could answer, he sat up straighter. "OH! Like if dad was going to play a symphony he could play it on the guitar... but it would sound better on the piano!"

"Exactly. Can you tell me why he might use a guitar anyway?"

Greg considered. "A'cause he is traveling an can't carry a piano, but he can always carry his axe?"

"Good boy," she said, ruffling his hair. "Just remember always think before using magic. It is a tool and a good one, just make sure you are using it because it is the right one. Alright?"

He nodded. "Should I make another light now?"

"Alright," she said, turning him gently to face the table again. "But maybe don't blind your old mom this time."

He nodded. "Okay." Then he blinked and grinned. "If I blind you is that 'cause I'm your brightest sun?"

The memory faded there.


"Admit it, mom," he said to the emptiness, "your family is the light of your life, we're white about that for sure..."

And for anyone who knew Gar and his sense of humor.... Yeah, that was it right there. For everyone else, welcome to the Deegan family.

[nadenagi]

[(Reminder that no one in game yet knows that they are the same person! Thank you!)]

Nagihiko

An airport, an international terminal. Most of the signs were in Japanese, English, or Chinese, though some other languages could be found here and there. A woman was standing near the seat Nagihiko was sitting in. Nagihiko was sitting properly, feet on the floor, back straight, but his eyes were downcast and not looking at the woman with the purple bun who looked... so much like him and his sister.

"It is just another year," she was saying, in a voice that sounded like someone trying to cheer someone up, though her face didn't show the desperation that was in that quiet sound. "On more year then you'll be going to school, everything will be as it ought to be."

Nagihiko nodded but didn't look up, his long loose hair falling over one shoulder slightly. "I know," he whispered. His face looked a little sad, until you saw the pain filled eyes. He looked like someone who had just lost everything. Or like someone he loved had died. But it only showed in his eyes and the quiet whisper.

She dropped into a graceful crouch, knees not touching the ground as she pushed his hair gently back behind him. "And you'll see your dad again soon, you've been missing him. We'll see him by tomorrow night."

Nagihiko nodded. "I'll be ready to practice, I promise," he said, his voice hollow now.

She sighed heavily and smoothed the hair at the back of his head. "You enjoy dancing, don't you, Nagihiko? If you don't...."

His head shot up at that then, eyes widening in alarm. His whole face picked up the expression. "No! No! I love dancing!" he rushed to assure her. "Please! I want to keep dancing!" he all but begged, but he kept his voice quiet.

She nodded, still expressionless. "I'm glad," she said quietly, relief in her voice. "But I don't understand why you're so upset. You like dancing, you never minded working hard and practicing, you seemed excited about this part when we used to discuss it."

He took a deep breath then made his expression blank again. He looked at her. "I... Met Nadeshiko's best friend before we left. Amu-chan. Spent a while with her."

For a moment she looked surprised before she too schooled her expression. "Did you? And how did it go?" she asked, moving a suitcase over to sit neatly on it to face her son more easily.

Nagihiko couldn't help it, he chuckled a bit. "She's adorable. Easily flustered. I... I think we can be good friends when I get back."

"Well then, that's good, right. Or... is that why you're upset? Do you think she won't remember you when we come home?"

He shook his head and sighed. "No.. that's not it but..." He tilted his head back a moment and closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts. A deep breath then he looked at his mom again, mak carefully back in place. "But what happens when I come back without Nadeshiko? I'm someone Amu-chan met once. Nadshiko is her best friend. She's the Queen chair," his voice tightened there, strangled. What will they all think? Left with only me... when she's the one they want?"

"Oh, my sweet boy," his mother said softly. Her face remained expressionless, but she pulled him forward gently and he went, hiding hi face against her so he could cry without anyone realizing that was what he was doing. "They will be disappointed not to see your sister, perhaps... but never disappointed to see you. Anyone who sees you as less than her isn't worth a second of your time."

She held him and stroked his hair for a while before he spoke again.

"What about you?" the muffled voice asked. "Everyone knows all this time... I've just been here a bit here and there, but you've raised Nadeshiko this whole time.. are... are you going to be okay... with just me?" he whispered.

"None of that now," she said, a bit more firmly. "You are my son and I love you. I will hear no more of this nonsense in so public a place. But even in private the answer will be the same, so long as you are you, so long as you are my child, I will always love you. Every last bit and aspect of you. The only way you could disappoint me is if you stop trying. And you're hardly one to just give up, are you?"

He shook his head and sat up some, all evidence of crying gone. But his eyes were still sad. "What if... I don't know how to be me? I don't... I've... I've lived under Nadeshiko's shadow for so long, to come back and live in all the spaces she once shone... Being all that is there to fill the space she left behind..."

His mother looked a bit stern then. "Then you'll learn how to be you. But you don't have to be Nadshiko or feel the space she left, Nagihiko," her voice was quiet but sharp. She gentled it then. "Besides, that is what family is for. We see who you are even if you don't. And there are lots of things you can do when you get back, spaces she never existed. Would never exist. Sure, you both are dancers, and you may even join that same club she was in. The Guardians. But did Nadeshiko ever join any sports teams? We both know she didn't. You could go out for Fûtbol with that Kukai boy. Or better yet, try out for the basketball team."

He looked stunned and jerked back a moment. "You... you knew that...."

"That you sneak out whenever you think you can to play basketball?" she asked, arching a single brow then she chuckled. "I am your mother, Nagihiko. Give me some credit, please."

He blinked, absorbing that. "But... you never stopped me..."

"You needed some space to breathe," she said sighing a bit. "A place in Japan that wasn't all about Nadehiko. I understood that. But now you won't have to hide anything. When we get back, you can be one hundred percent you. And this trip... just you, me, your dad. No Nadeshiko. Time to settle into your own skin and step into the light. You'll see, Nagihiko my dear." She took his hand and kissed it. "Now, we're almost out of time before the flight. Can I get you anything to eat? To drink? Is there anything you want right now?"

His other hand slid into his pocket a moment as he considered then a weak little sheepish smile. "Green tea?"

She patted his hand and nodded. "Green tea. Watch our bags." She rose gracefully and all but glided off towards the vending machines.

He watched her go, then pulled his hand out of his pocket. For those who can see spirits or magic or just have a ton of magic or connection to souls, they might see a single blue egg with flowers on it in his hand. To everyone else, he looks like h's just staring at his palm.

"But... who is the who I want to be?" he asked in a whisper. "Who... am I supposed to be...?"

The memory faded and Nagihiko jumped back from the flower and looked around, wide eyed. "Was... that some sort of attack?!" he asked, eyes scanning, of all things, the sky.


Nadeshiko

Later in the week, Nadeshiko could be seen out and about gathering flowers, a number of them woven into the top of her ponytail and into the seams of her dress. She seemed to be having quite a bit of fun. Until one of them triggered for her...


An older woman was helping Nadeshiko smooth the obi on her kimono as her mother spoke to her. For those who could see magic or spirits or souls, they would see a tiny spirit, the size of an adult's hand, floating about Nadeshiko's head. No one in the memory seemed to see her.

"Are you certain you can handle this?" her mother was asking, stern but concerned.

Nadeshiko nodded, holding her long draping sleeves out of the way with the ease of long practice. "Yes, mother," she said, formally.

"You've never had a friend stay over before," her mother said. She still sounded stern.

"I know, but Amu-chan is special," she said softly. But there was conviction there. She wasn't backing down.

"So you've said, but there is a limit, Nadshiko. Are you certain?"

"I'm certain," she said with a gentle chuckle, not seeming to notice or care that her mother was so stern sounding. "You don't need to fret," she added. "You'll understand when you meet her. It'll be fine. And besides?"

"Besides?" her mother asked, all but pouncing on the word verbally. The woman held herself still but something about her voice said she would have been better off pacing.

"Besides," Nadeshiko said, serenely, "I have faith in myself. Don't you have faith in me, mother?" she asked, had tilting eyes wide with innocence.

For a moment her mother looked like she swallowed a whole bag of sour candies.

Nadeshiko covered her mouth with one long sleeve and giggled. "After all, I was trained by the best, mother." Her obi done she stepped off the small platform and towards her mother. She bowed deeply.

Her mother looked even more sour for a moment then softened and smiled and kissed the top of her head.

Taking that as a signal, Nadeshiko smiled and stood. "It's fine, mother. Really."

"I just worry, and with the family coming together again so soon..."

Nadeshiko nodded. "I won't miss a moment of practice."

"That wasn't..." her mother began.

"In fact, I was planning to practice while Amu-chan was in the bath, and once she fell asleep. If you'll be available."

Her mother looked stunned a moment then laughed behind her own - slightly less generous - sleeve. "You really thought this out, haven't you?" she asked.

Nadeshiko nodded. "I'm growing up," she said, a little bittersweetness and wistfulness in her voice.

"You are," her mother said, sounding both proud and sad.

"I only have so much longer to be a little girl," Nadeshiko said, "Before I have to be whoever I'll grow up to be as an adult. So before I have to go and become all boring... is it so bad to want to have one sleepover with a friend?"

Her mother laughed and cupped both her cheeks to lift her face so she could plant a kiss on Nadeshiko's forehead. "It is perhaps a good thing for everyone that your future is in dance, not politics. You'd be the world's youngest prime minister."

Nadeshiko laughed a bit. "I think Tadase-san would be upset if I got there first," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. "So it is really okay for Amu-chan to stay the night?"

"Just this once," her mother said with a sigh. "But you need to be careful."

Nadshiko nodded. "I always am. And I won't fall behind in practice."

"When were you thinking of having her come over?" her mother asked.

The doorbell rang.

"You are hereby forbidden politics!" Her mother declared, but she was fighting a laugh. She turned to the older woman, "please see to the door, while we compose ourselves. And... when you have a moment, fetch a spare kimono if you would, I suspect we'll need it before young miss Nadeshiko's little friend has left. I'll join you at the door in a moment."

The woman nodded, smiled warmly at them both and then left.

NAdeshiko's mother looked at her and sighed. "And here I thought raising a boy would prove the bigger handful, just what am I to do with you, Nadeshiko?"

"Love me," Nadeshiko said with a bright smile.

"Always." Her mother patted her shoulder then followed the older woman.

Nadeshiko's eyes flicked to the small spirit for the first time. "You ready, Temari?" she asked softly.

The spirit nodded, bobbing in the air. "So long as I don't have to get my kimono dirty..."

The vision ended and Nadeshiko gave a small sigh, staring at where it had been. A wistful look in her eyes.

Kyoko Mogami | CW: Abuse, neglect

[souls_of_roles]

First Heartache Or Newest?

Kyoko didn't know what was going on at first. She just knew that there were amazing flowers everywhere and it was like magic! So she had been outside, romping the way she learned how to for the Curara commercial - so lots of just playing around. She thought the only things that could make this better were if Moko were there... or if a fairy was. Or maybe if something magical happened. Except that when something magical did happen... it didn't make things better. At all.

Kyoko had been laying on her stomach, sniffing a flower when the first memory shared itself.



Kyoko was walking into a comfortable but modest Japanese living room - with a low table and tatami style floors. An older woman in a professional looking kimono with narrow sleeves was sitting down at the low table as Kyoko - dressed in a black shirt, pale skirt, and jacket set up tea from the sideboard.

"Sorry to make you help clean up as soon as you got home," the woman said to her. She seemed kind.

"No, on the contrary," Kyoko insisted, "I haven't been able to help out much lately."

"No need to worry" the woman said. "Ah well, we were able to close early today at least." She reached for the remote and turned on the television. "Here we go, I wonder what was recorded today." A listing came up for a few different shows. BOX R, World Wonders, Latest Information, Asakara, Kilo Knot.

"Oh, yes, yes," Kyoko said, bringing the tea things over. "Kilo Knot?"

"Where you on this show?" the woman asked.

"Um...." Kyoko paused, thinking about it. ".... no?" She moved again and set down the tea tray, sitting beside the woman at the low table, legs folding under her.

"Ah, but today a customer told me that this TV records shows if your name appears in the show information," the woman said. "Maybe that's why? But sometimes a show gets recorded, even when you aren't in it, Kyoko."

"Huh? Really?" Kyoko asked, seeming politely interested but no more as she poured the tea.

"You know," the woman said, "There's another actress... named Kyoko Isozaki."

"Yes," Kyoko agreed, handing over the tea cup.

"The machine records her shows because she spells her name the same way you do. Automatically. A machine can be too smart."

"So something like that can happen..." Kyoko said, pouring her own tea.

The woman put on Kilo Knot from the list than began sipping her tea.

"Now let's untangle your life!" the TV announcer said energetically. The crowd went wild. Kyoko and the woman watched, a bit stunned at the energy as someone in the liv studio audience yelled "HEY! GIVE US A PROPER INTRODUCTION!" the poor announcer stumbled, and tried to recover. "Uh, today's special guest is Ms. Kyoko Isozaki. And Ms. Izumi Komaki."

"I knew it," the woman said.

"Looks like it," Kyoko agreed.

The announcer was moving on, announcing their able life coaches while the woman reached for the remote.

"Well let's delete this," the woman said as the announcer added, "And appearing for the first time...a top lawyer who is also a real beauty."

Kyoko's head shot up as the TV showed a panning shot that ended on a stern looking woman. Older than Kyoko, younger than the woman she was with. There was something sharp about this woman, like a glance from her could leave you bleeding.

"Saena Mogami," the announcer added as the camera pulled out enough to get the name plate before her.

Kyoko was dead pale now, her tea forgotten, her eyes locked on the screen.

"Kyoko?" the woman beside her asked, glancing over with concern.

The people on the TV started talking about who was responsible in a rear ending traffic accident. "So who is respsonsibel for the accident, Ms. Mogami?"

"When a car at rest is rear-ended on a surface street the impacting car is fully responsible for the accident," Saena replied her voice ice and smooth, emotionless but like her gaze... there was something sharp about it. She looked like she did not want to be there and like someone was going to die for making her be there anyway. But she was still professional an answered. "But on a freeway, the car that gets hit shares responsibility."

"Uh..." Kyoko said. "I'd like to watch this..."

"Huh?" the woman asked. "Ah. Is she a relative? Her family name is Mogami too..."

Kyoko looked torn as they finished up about the accident and moved on to a woman with a custody question. Finally, Kyoko said, "Uh... sh... she's... my mother..." the words came out as though she had to fight to offer them for all they were hardly above a whisper. She was sweating, though she didn't lose her perfect posture, except for the way her hands clasped on her knees under the table.

"Alright," the woman said, setting down the remote. She sipped her tea, but kept glancing back at Kyoko, worried.

Kyoko stared right at the TV paling whenever it cut to her mother, tension in every bit of her as she watched and listened as if she was braced for a blow.

"My ex-husband told me he wouldn't let me see her anymore," the woman asking her question to the panel on TV was saying, "because he doesn't want m to. He must be telling her lies about me! I gave up my parental rights in exchange for being able to see my daughter several times a month... but my ex-husband has broken all of his promises! I want to get her back!"

"I have already explained," Saena said coldly, "that alteration to parental rights is complicated. In your case, the parents' desires are not taken into account. It is up to the child to decide whom she wants to live with."

"So that's the problem!" the petitioner bemoaned. "My husband has brainwashed her! I've been duped. He's taken everything away from me. Just because it is legal doesn't make it right! I gave birth to her! My ex has no right to tae away a mother's time with her child! Why don't you understand?! Do you have children?" the woman was getting shrill and frantic. Desperate. "There's no way you've given birth to a child!"

There was a moment where nothing was said, Saena's expression not shifting an inch as she finally spoke. "You're right. I do not have any children. I have never been a mother. So I can only imagine your suffering and frustration. But they have no bearing on this case."

Kyoko's expression went utterly blank.

"Kyoko?" the woman said, worried, talking over Saena discussing options for hiring a lawyer to contest custody. "Are you...?" Nothing from Kyoko. Just that utter blankness. "Kyo..."

"Excuse me," Kyoko said, voice hollow. She turned slightly, as if she would break if she moved any less carefully.

"What?"

"I'm..." Kyoko began. She pushed slowly to her feet. "Going... to my room."

"Uh... sure..." the woman said, twisting where she was sitting to watch Kyoko as she left, worry and concern on her face. Caring. Not love, this wasn't a substitute mother figure. Just a woman who cared. Who cared and had no clue what to do now.

Not that Kyoko in the memory saw that as she walked away, hearing her mother's voice from the TV at her back. She made it to a small bedroom, but the memory magic focused only on her and the door behind her as she closed it softly. Her face stayed frozen except her eyes. Except the heartbreak and pain crashing down behind those eyes. But as the door closed, it closed out the last of the sound of Saena's voice and the spell broke, the memory ending.

Kyoko had sat up curiously when the memory started. But as it went she had been scooting back further and further. When it finished she shoved to her feet, and turned from it as it faded, running. She didn't know where she was running to. Just... away.



An old Ache

Kyoko had calmed down. It was days later, and anyway when it came to her mom, Kyoko was like that. Utter heartbreak, but once someone calmed her down she tended to bounce back quickly. Besides, it had been magic, so she should be happy, right? She was trying very hard to tell herself that. Her fake sales girl smile was in place as she tried to make herself romp round again, trying to recapture that joy. She was more or less over the pain. As much as she ever was. But it had tainted her joy in the magic and she wanted that back. Desperately. So she was bound and determined to enjoy the magical flowers...

until, of course she got hit with another memory blast...

The room was very nicely appointed and neat as a pin. Book cases lined the walls to either side. A desk sat in front of the window, facing away from it, towards the door that the little girl had just opened. Other than eye colour, the small child looked nothing like Kyoko. She was a tiny little thing with black pigtails and long black bangs in front of her eyes, hiding them. Her body and face were still chubby with the last bits of baby fat, and everything about how she moved was timid and shaky.

The woman behind the desk, head in her hand, looking miserable however... that looked just like Saena for those who had seen the last memory. Just younger and disheveled and miserable. Her black hair was slipping free of her bun, her face, once she moved her hand, was tear stained, her eyes red rimmed with crying and lack of sleep. Everything about her spoke of a woman desperately trying not to lose a battle she was sure was already lost.

The little girl looked stricken to see her mother so upset. She crept forward slowly, hunched in, trembling. When she got to the desk without Saena noticing her, she reached a trembling hand up. "M... mother..." she said in a whispering voice as she reached a hand towards the one hand the woman had on the desk.

Saena turned her head just enough to see the child. She pulled her hand away violently. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" She pulled both of her hands in towards her chest, tears and sweat both running down her face. "Things go wrong whenever you touch me! I... I CANNOT AFFORD TO LOSE NOW! I MUST WIN! IF I LOSE THIS CASE IT'S YOUR FAULT! NOW LEAVE!" she ordered, at the top of her lungs, fury and desperation in her voice. As though she hated the child. Hated her... and was afraid of her at the same time. "I've told you never to enter this room!"

The child pulled her own fists into her chest, an unconscious mimicry of Saena's own pose as she tried not to cry. Both of them tense and miserable and afraid and desperate for something they never could have.

"Even a parent can hate their own child," Kyoko whispered like she was repeating a line, her eyes locked on Saena's face. She shook her head without moving her eyes away from Saena. "How..." she whispered, stepping forward even as the memory vanished. She let her hand fall, having not even realized that she had lifted it. "How had I never noticed how miserable I made her? Why did I keep torturing us both by trying to get her to move me?" she asked herself quietly, a single tear rolling. Then she sook her head again and dashed away the tear. "It'll be different this time. I know why now... I can... I can fix this. I can become someone she can be proud of... I just have to work harder," she said with confidence. "I have my talismans now. And all the magic I've been touched by. I can become good enough," her confidence grew, her stance firmed, and she looked up to the sky. "I can do it. One day it'll happen. She'll pat my head and call me a good girl. And I'll never reopen the wound of her past again."

Finally, an NPC post! (Sorry about the delay.) CW for, well, Maleficent.

[mal_contented]

The first day
[(Backdated to the first day, as it says on the header.)]
Mal had been to enough worlds by now to not trust the sudden random appearance of new flowers she didn't recognize. Maybe soon after she arrived, once she had started to settle in, she might have taken it a just an Auradon things. Weirder things happen here all the time.

But by now she knew better. And so she was investigating. Seriously, in a land of fairytale princesses and princes, here was the queen - in her usual leather jacket closed up over her shirt, leather pants, and boots combo, complete with leather fingerless gloves - walking around poking flowers with a stick. While scowling at them.

So when the scent hit her she had thought sh had ben prepared for... something. What sh hadn't expcted was a familiar voice.

"You... all.... will... REGRET... THIS!"

She spun towards the voice to see...

A purple dragon rising out of green smoke. The dragon opened its mouth to breathe fire.

Mal rushed towards it, pulling her spell book out of the front of her jacket as she did. "Burn me and your spell book burns with me, mother!"

The dragon breathed out, at someone behind where current Mal was making her stand, as though she wasn't there.

Mal spun to see who was hurt and figure out how to help. When she saw the leather clad teenaged boy roll out of the way, for a moment her heart stopped. "JAY!" She called out. But as she watched in horror, details caught up to her. Like the fact that she had been out on the lawn and was now, seemingly, indoors. Where the coronation had just recently been held. Hers and...

Ben's.

For her mom or Jay to have shown up? Sure. But both at the same time? And her mother as a dragon at the same time Jay was wearing what he wore when Ben was crowned king?

Now she looked more as Jay rolled and dodged, took in the rest of the scene. The group of people all around in their finest clothes - still as statues. Fairy Godmother, the former king, the former Queen, and Ben up at the front, frozen.

Ben, with his crown askew, poised to attack. His father on the dais. His mother grabbing his arm to pull him back, to protect him. Fairy godmother in her best dress arms raised to cast a spell she no longer had. In fact...

Mal spun in place, holding the spell book to her chest as she watched the person with the wand - her younger self, and her three best friends dodging and weaving among the frozen people and tall pillars.

Now that she knew this was some sort of vision, she was somewhat less tense, and was regarding everything critically. "Gotta hand it to E, we really could move in those clothes," she muttered, stalking through the vision towards the fleeing teenagers.

"C'mon, run, Jay! Run!" Carlos screamed. Jay, racing forward as often as back, looking for a way to fight.

"Com on Jay! HURRY HURRY HURRY!"

"JAY!"

the dragon circling amongst the stained glass windows to get some height, as though Jay had a sword. Which he didn't. Or magic. Which he didn't.

"Still, mom knew Jay," she reasoned. "Never bet against him in a fight. Well... unless he's fighting me, that is," she said, lips quirking a bit.

The dragon diving, jaws open like she was going to snap Jay up in a single bite.

Evie stepping in to save them all. "MAGIC MIRROR - SHINE A BRIGHT LIGHT!" as she held up the palm sized fragment that was all that remained of her mother's magic mirror. And it did as she bade, blinding the dragon for a key moment; allowing the four teenaged friends to cluster together. Bringing the dragon down.

"Behind me, E!" Memory Mal said, clad in her sparkly pale purple dress. The wand that was missing from Fairy Godmother's hands was in hers, and around the spiral of it was a ring some few might have noticed. Mal always wore it, after all. Thick gold with a beast's face on it. Too thick to easily hide under her fingerless gloves. She moved to stand in front of her friends, facing the dragon, clutching the wand. "Leave my friends alone!" she demanded of the dragon. Her shoulders firmed. "This is between you and me, Mother."

"And now for the whole two people in Auradon that didn't already think I was a freak," current Mal muttered, shaking her head.

The dragon lowered itself to advance slowly on her, but she gave no ground for once.

"The strength of evil is good as none, when stands before four hearts as one!" past Mal said, clutching the wand down by her side. Her eyes began to glow green. livid angry toxic green. The same green as the eyes of the Dragon, in fact. Which began to glow brighter, as if to meet hers. Or to try to surpass hers. "The strength of evil is good as none, when stands before four hearts as one," she repeated, growing in confidence even as the glow in both eyes brightened. "The strength of evil is good as none, when stands before four hearts as one!"

And then the two - girl and dragon - locked eyes. As though they were school children rather than a dragon and a damsel they proceeded to have a very intense high stakes staring contest. After several intense moments, the dragon lost, shaking her head before being swallowed up by a cloud of livid green smoke.

Mal stumbled back and looked at her friends who looked as bewildered as she did.

Current Mal scowled, thinking she looked too weak then. She needed to hav shown strength. Maybe thing would have gone differently then if she had. Then again, this was Auradon. Maybe not.

The moment the smoke resolved into what seemed to be a purple bearded dragon, Fairy Godmother unfroze. The teens rushed towards the small lizard and FG approached in a more stately way that was still swift.

"What just happened?"
"I have no idea!"
"Did you do it?"
"I don't know!"

The four friends spoke practically over each other, but it was FG who had the answer. "No no no no, your mother did. She shrank to the size of the love in her heart. That's why it's so itty bitty."

Mal looked down, then knelt closer to the lizard. "Is sh going to be like that forever?" she asked.

Fairy Godmother knelt with her. "Forever is a long time..." Whatever more she was going to say was lost as the memory faded.

"What? No! Come back! The best part was still.... Ugh." She shook her head. "If we have to suffer these things, shouldn't we at least get to chose where they end?" she asked the sky. "Is this Auradon or isn't it?"

Mal gave a heavy sigh then turned to face whoever was with her at this point. "So, guessing you have questions..." she crossed her arms over the spell book for the time being.

Evil Lives

Now that Mal had an idea what this was on about, she was patrolling the grounds to tell anyone shocked by one what was happening, so that they wouldn't panic. Panics were only fun when you meant to incite one, and she supposed as queen she shouldn't be doing that anymore.

As the week wore on, Mal's outfits got more and more dark purple and green, and more and more dragon-like. Oh it was still always a closed up leather jacket, leather pants, and boots, but the jackets might look like scales up and down the sleeves, or have no sleeves and just little wing pauldrons. Increasingly she wore pants in dark purple with black and green flames curling around her legs. Her hair was now a dark dark purple braided into a crown around her head and twined with a black ribbon.

When a new memory vision triggered, she sighed. "It's alright," she told whoever was around. "I guess I'll play tour guide.... This," she waved that the setting that had appeared around them. It was a dark and towering edifice that would have been terrifying if it wasn't so clearly falling apart. The balconies had crenelations that looked well worn and the door was just barely on its hinges. "This is Bargain Castle. On the Isle. Home sour home, once upon a time."

In the vision of the ramshackle castle a younger Mal in well worn leather, dirty but well mended, slid in past the huge creaking doors, past what looked like a poorly stocked fourth hand shop of ragged clothes and into a ramshackle living room. There was a busted up old fridge, broken down tables. A patched sofa facing a small table that barely was staying upright, holding a tiny TV. Crumbs were everywhere. There was a mostly empty can of shoe polish and a stained ripped up rag atop the fridge.

The only furniture in the room that wasn't half broken was a huge high backed green chair like a throne, set before a stained glass window that was somehow intact.

Sitting on the throne like chair was a woman in a long black dress that was either tattered and layered stylistically to look intimidating or from a lack of care. Hard to tell which. She had black leather wrapped horns atop her head and a scowl on her face, aimed at the purple haired girl who had just sauntered in. Not quite hidden in the shadows nearby was a dark bird.

Younger Mal gave a start as she slipped into the living room and saw "Mother!"

"Hello, dear," Maleficent's cold voice said making an insult of the endearment. "Do you know what time it is, young lady?"

Mal looked confused and unsure, studying the woman before finally saying "two in the morning?" as if she was guessing.

"I thought so," Maleficent said, pushing up a purple sleeve to correct the wrist watch under it. She pulled the sleeve back down and looked at the teenager critically. "Where was I? Oh yes, EVIL LIVES!" she hissed.

"Evil lives," Mal repeated. "Exactly, Mother. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? The tags around town? Pretty good, right?"

"No, you misunderstand me, dear," Maleficent said, sounding disappointed.

The black bird croaked before flying to Mal's shoulder. It nipped her ear.

"Ouch! Stop that!"

"That's just Diablo. Don't be jealous my little friend, that's just Mal," Maleficent said, her voice dismissive.

Younger Mal had a moment where she looked like she was fighting pain, but she pushed it down quickly. "Diablo? That's Diablo?"

"The one and only Diablo," Maleficent purred, looking pleased.

"But how?!" Mal asked. "He was frozen! They turned him into stone!"

"Yes, they did, those horrid little beasts. But he's back! He's back! And EVIL LIVES!" Maleficent declared, with an evil cackle for good measure.

Mal rolled her eyes.

Maleficent stood from her chair dramatically, her green eyes blazing into Mal's. "My Dragon's eye - my scepter of darkness - Diablo says it has been awakened! EVIL LIVES! And best of all, it is on this island!"

"Your scepter? Are you sure?" Mal sounded skeptical. "Hard to believe King Beast of Auradon would leave such an impressive weapon on the Isle."

"Diablo swears he saw it, didn't you, my sweet?" she asked lifting a hand. The raven alighted on her finger and cawed.

"So where is it?" Mal asked.

"Well I don't speak raven, do I? It's on this blaster piece of rock somewhere," she fumed, her free hand tossing back her cape.

"Okay then. But so what?"

"So what?! The Dragon's Eye is back! Evil lives! It means I can have my powers back!"

"Not with the dome still up," Mal pointed out.

"It doesn't matter. I thought those three despicably good fairies had destroyed it, but they had only frozen it, like they had Diablo. It is alive, it is out there somewhere, and best of all - you- my dear - will get it for me," Maleficent announced with a little flourish.

"Me?"

"Yes. Don't you want to prove yourself to me? Prove that you are worthy of being my daughter?" Maleficent asked quietly. When Mal didn't answer, she sighed. "You know how much you are a disappointment to me, how when I was your age, I had armies of goblins under my control, but you... what do you do - put your little drawings all over town? You need to do MORE!" Maleficent seethed. Diablo flapped his wings and cawed in agreement.

Mal was clearly hurt and trying not to show it. "Fine!" she snapped, hiding behind anger. "Fine! I'll go get your scepter!"

"Wonderful." Maleficent touched herself on the chest, where once she had been stabbed through. "When that sword pierced my dragon hide, and I fell off that cliff twenty years ago, I was sure I had died. But they brought me back to suffer a fate worse than death. Much worse. But one day, I will have my revenge.

Mal nodded. Maleficent took her hand and together they swore "Revenge upon those fools who imprisoned us on this cursed island!" then Maleficent pulled Mal closer and whispered something into her ear.

"Yes, Mother," Mal said.

Maleficent grinned. "Now get out of here and bring it back, so we can be free of this floating prison once and for all!" she let go of Mal who trudged her way upstairs.

"Well, I could have done without that particular memory...."

[queen_butterfly]

The audience was thankfully minimal. Mallia was simply standing there off to the side, looking caught in how to respond to witnessing that, baffled and speechless, the look on her face unreadable. Amused? Shocked? Confused? Outraged? Frustrated? Wanting to roll her eyes? Annoyed? About to laugh? ...All of the above at once? Who knew.

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, reconsidering saying anything at all. A hint of a pause as she blinked and shook her head to herself, trying to find a coherent thought that might win out, and settled her gaze on Mal again.

Well, that... was helpful, actually. A focus, a direction to turn.... She sighed quietly, putting those other reactions aside and composing herself.

"...Are you all right?"

[mal_contented]

The memory had already shaken Mal, and given who had just seen her... and it... She pulled her defenses up like a wall of thorns. "Why wouldn't I be?" she snapped. "She has no power to hurt me," she lied brazenly.

[queen_butterfly]

"And she shouldn't." Thankfully, that implication had helped sober her mood a little, making it easier to hold her expression more carefully neutral. "But shoulds don't always lead to the appropriate does or does nots, so I thought it best to check. I'm sorry if I've overstepped, or intruded. I hadn't intended to.

"...Would it make things any fairer by your accounting, if I showed you something in kind?" She gestured to the flowers -- would Mal want her to deliberately try prompting the magic to show something from her next?

[mal_contented]

"I don't expect fair out of life," she snapped. "Not how I was raised."

[queen_butterfly]

"And you needn't expect it. I'm offering. Freely. ...Would you like me to?"

NPC | Ben

[missrecalled_npcs]

Once Mal had figured out what was going on, of course she had told Ben. And so he too was walking outside to find those who might need help, might need calming. After all, there was nothing he had to hide. No matter the theme - and Mal had been sure there would be one - he had nothing in his memories that he feared to share. The few regrets in his life he could explain to the reasonable. And he knew how lucky he was. How few times of lingering pain he had experienced; how few of them hadn't been resolved by now.

Ben, usually busy, would be easily accessible for once. Well, he generally kept his office door open while working. But this mad him more approachable. He was also in what was for him, casual clothes. A blue silk shirt, blue slacks, a blue and gold jacket. No crown. Sneakers.

Ben could be found walking the lawns. Most of the memories from him were... unexciting. Mostly they were of a younger Ben and a kind looking woman curled up with large stacks of books, whiling away the hours.

There were a few memories of conversations here and there... but nothing scandalous or even all that interesting to anyone who wasn't part of the conversation. And lots of books. Picnics, with books. Hot cocoa by the fire sitting back to back reading their way through a huge pile of books. Itty bitty Ben in her lap as she taught him how to read a story book.

Really nearly every memory with his mother was simply the two of them reading books or discussing books. He was enjoying revisiting these quiet moments, but mostly was out here to help others.

Lea- OTA- With special musical interlude!

[hotheadwarmheart]

Flowers. Flowers everywhere. Lea had grown up in Radiant Garden so he did have something of an appreciation for flowers, even if it was mostly a passive one, but even to a kid from Radiant Garden, flowers literally coming out of the woodwork- among other things- was a bit excessive. Still, they looked nice, smelled nice, and were only a minor annoyance at worst so he'd mostly chalked their presence up to 'magic being weird' and went about his life. Long as they didn't start wielding knives and committing petty theft, he could deal.

Or so he thought. Then one day as he was looking for a book in the library, the scent of flowers became particularly strong, and he heard a woman's voice. A voice that froze him in his tracks . The library melted away, changing into a kitchen, a kitchen he hadn't seen in years, but still knew so well. He could have told someone right where to find the spoons, knew how that coffee mug sitting on the counter had gotten the little chip in the handle.

And he knew the woman and the little boy standing by the counter, oh, very well indeed. The boy's red hair stuck up in gravity defying spikes, and he grinned despite the streak of flour on his nose as he mixed blueberries into a bowl of pancake batter. The woman, meanwhile, had brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and was pulling some strips of bacon out of a package ready to place them into the waiting frying pan. She glanced down at the boy, her eyes a familiar shade of green, and smiled in an equally familiar slightly lopsided way.

"That's so much for your help, Special Assistant Chef Lea," she said. "Be sure to mix gently now; if you squash the blueberries all the juice will come out and turn the batter purple."

"I know, mom," he said, but still slowed down his mixing a little bit. "You think Dad'll like his surprise?"

"Oh I know he will. Breakfast for dinner is always his favorite, especially when it's blueberry pancakes."

"And double especially when they're your blueberry pancakes, right?", Little Lea said, a hint of mischief in his grin.

His mother laughed. "Right," she said. "It's a known fact that my pancakes are the best. And doubly so when I have the help of an excellent Special Assistant Chef."

They continued talking for a few more moments as they worked, until the memory faded away, leaving Lea once again standing in the library. Though he continued to stare at the spot where his mother had been for awhile after the illusion faded, and would likely do so even if someone spoke to him.

***********************************************

Later, towards evening , Lea was wandering the school grounds somewhat aimlessly, his thoughts focused on what he'd seen earlier that day. Seemingly from nowhere, music began to play, and a moment later, seemingly unaware of either the music or what he was doing, Lea began to sing.

Proud of your boy
I'll make you proud of your boy
Believe me, bad as I've been, Mom
You're in for a pleasant surprise

I've wasted time
I've wasted me
So say I'm slow for my age
A late bloomer, okay, I agree

That I've been one rotten kid
Some son, some pride and some joy
But I'll get over these lousin' up
Messin' up, screwin' up times

You'll see, Mom, now comes the better part
Someone's gonna make good cross his stupid heart
Make good and finally make you
Proud of your boy

Tell me that I've been a louse and loafer
You won't get a fight here, no, ma'am
Say I'm a goldbrick, a goof-off, no good
But that couldn't be all that I am

Water flows under the bridge, let it pass
Let it go
There's no good reason that you should believe me, not yet
I know, but

Someday and soon
I'll make you proud of your boy
Though I can't make myself stronger
Or smarter or handsome or wise

I'll do my best, what else can I do?
Since I wasn't born perfect like dad or you
Mom, I will try to try hard to make you
Proud of your boy

A long moment passed after the last note had faded, Lea blinked in confusion, realizing what he'd just done. "What in the...?", he said. "How...? Did I just... do a musical number completely out of nowhere?"

Musical number

[mal_contented]

"You get used to it," Mal said with a grin when he started asking questions. She pushed herself off the decorative whatever she'd been sitting on to land nearby. "Random singing beats random memories though, so I think that whatever this is... you got the better end of it. Though on of the other worlds I was on, when weird stuff like this happened, there used to at least be food to steal."

[hotheadwarmheart]

"Already had a random memory earlier," Lea said. "Was probably what prompted the song honestly." He hadn't thought about his mom in that much detail since... well since the ceremony on Osiga. Which was now also gone.

Deliberately turning his mind from that depressing line of thought for the moment he asked, "So people just... randomly bursting into song is normal around here?"

[mal_contented]

"Oh yeah. Kinda weird it hasn't happened yet, honestly. But then for me at least it doesn't happen all that often without my Crew. Ben and Sylvando are great and all, but for me to be belting it out, Evie and the others are usually somewhere in the mix."

[hotheadwarmheart]

"Where does the music come from though?", Lea said. "Does anybody know? I mean there's no speakers or anything, magical or otherwise, that I can see."

"Though yeah, I get that. Some things are just better with your friends around."

[mal_contented]

"Wherever it comes from, I can assure you it isn't magic. It happens on the Isle too. Besides, it's not that weird, is it? It's happened on other worlds."

Her lips twisted. "Ben and Sylvando are friends too. Good ones. Too good," that last muttered with a nose wrinkle. "But the others? They're my crew. And Evie's my best friend. Any world, ever. Even when she loves what I told myself I hate and she hates what I told myself I love."