Favorite lines or scenes you've ever written? (SHAMELESS FIC GUSHING WELCOME)

[silverjirachi]

Hi writers of the internet! I wanted to post a discussion here about some favorite scenes you've ever written. Share bits of scenes or individual quotes that you are really proud of and use this space to shamelessly infodump about it :) (This is mostly just so I have a chance to gush about some of my own). I'd be really interested to hear (you don't have to answer all of them):

• What are your favorite lines/scenes you've written and why?
• What are some things you've intentionally projected onto your characters? What are some things you have NOT intentionally projected onto your characters?
• And, if you're comfortable enough sharing, have you ever had a moment in your writing when something clicked unexpectedly and you had to sit back and go "Oh. This is about me." Like, those DEEPLY personal writing moments. (I catch myself projecting somehow in nearly every piece I write... fess up everyone lol). Or maybe not even about something personal, just, a big Writing Revelation™

I'll start with some of mine.

Kind of a long story, but I've told this one before. My first one happened in my first fic, The Devil and the Dead Sea. I started writing that fic when I was going through a really big transitional period in my life on a LOT of different fronts, and I knew even going in that the fic was sort of my way to grapple with the ideas of the head and the heart. (Maxie, of course, being dominated too much by his head and "rational thought," Archie representing the heart and emotion). My life fell to shit in 2015 and as a result I lost like, EVERYTHING that used to make me feel happy. So naturally, this fic hit the dust and never saw the light of day again.

But after doing a ton of really hard work on personal healing, rediscovering myself and reclaiming my lost time, I regained parts of myself that I thought were lost for good. And one day, I felt good enough to finish this fic. I had an absolute blast finding myself again through it and just letting myself be fangirly and overly self indulgent and really just downright silly, and as I finally came to writing the final scenes of the book, I had 2 major moments where things clicked.

The first one was in Maxie's love confession scene. Without going into too much detail, part of the reason my life went to hell (not the only reason) was due to this person I really used to love a lot. Looking back, I've grown to agree with him on why he did what he did, but it took literally like 8 years. For a lot of that time, I was walking around with all this anger and bitterness and hatred not just at him but at the whole entire world.

As I'm sitting there writing this scene, I get to the point where Maxie mentions his grudges. And Archie responds with, "Well, to be fair, I did cause a fair amount of your pain." And Maxie responds:

"Not nearly the amount of pain I caused myself in dragging it all out to spite you."
​

Those words left my keyboard and I just sorta had to sit there and stop for a moment. Question my life and existence. Take a break for a while. I may have cried a little or a lot, that's for me to know.

But if Maxie and his grudges/love confession talk was one of the first big "Oh shit, this is about me" moments, it was met with an even more beautiful response only a few chapters later.

Light spoilers for final scene here: At the end of the fic, after Maxie's awakening Groudon HORRIBLY BACKFIRES and he discovers 1) he was possessed by Groudon 2) that's horrifying and 3) the necklace he's worn since childhood actually WAS a scale from Groudon as he was told (and that's how he got possessed), Archie had had to break the necklace in order to free him from Groudon, mirroring an action that happened when they were kids. But in the final scene, Archie returns the necklace to him, mended. And Maxie remarks that it's kind of sad and horrifying now, given the context, and Archie responds:

“But hey, at least you know. The legend was true. You own an actual scale from a super ancient Pokémon—a Pokémon that shaped our world. One that you admired more than anything. That’s nothin’ to scoff at. It’s special to you, it always has been, and’ya shouldn’t let neither hell nor high water take that away from you.”
​

So here is where I actually cried. Full on sobbing, I do admit. Took a nice long break after this and came to terms with a lot of things in my life. But this was a good thing because I realized like. That's what this entire fic was. Me reclaiming something from myself that I lost many, many years ago. It was really one of those moments where your characters speak to you, you know?

If I had to get any line of my own writing tattooed on my body, THIS WOULD BE IT. Because god DAMN Archie I still say this shit to myself. Archie do you even know. The little Archie in my head sir, do you even KNOW what you have done to me. You summed it up pal. One time I lost everything I loved and everything I felt made me me and I got it all back again through sheer force of will (seriously- ALL of my old hobbies are back now!) And it was because it was special to me. It always HAD BEEN. AND I WASN'T GONNA LET HELL NOR HIGH WATER TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME BAAAYY BEEEEEEEEE!!!! I say this shit to myself all the time. It lives rent free in my head 24/7. When I'm having a bad day or bad time with something and I grit my teeth and struggle and I remember this god damn line.

It summed up my entire writing of this fic, for real. And the fact that I got one line from Maxie and one line from Archie each just completely vibe checking my ass really made the entire fic. It's one of those things I can't believe actually technically came out of me. Because it 100% feels like Archie from Pokemon said that to me. Those aren't my words, those are his, lol.

Here's some other bits/honorable mentions from around my other fics:

Things I have intentionally projected onto my characters: various hobbies (drawing, theatre/dancing even though i'm not a dancer i wish I had been), sometimes some plot points such as exile, isolation, and abandonment, Maxie's anxiety. Archie deliberately has issues in Icarus that mirror my own ADHD. (Though he has it a lot worse than mine). Concordia's entire thing with Colress in Ophelia (the linked thing is only a preview) (hee hoo more abandonment). Concordia's entire personality (PERFECT PURE INNOCENT CATHOLIC SCHOOL ME). The religious imagery in every single one of my fics.

Things I have NOT intentionally projected onto my characters: the neurodivergence (especially Maxie from Devil and Astor from Exile//Vilify. ESPECIALLY ASTOR'S). Archie's love language is gift-giving and apparently so is Colress'. (GIVE ME GIFTS TO UNLOCK MY HEART POINTS AND BONUS SCENES). DIFFERENT parts of the abandonment scenes. How like every single one of my characters (including my dnd ones) have a "Moment My Life Changed™"

Looking forward to seeing what y'all share :)

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

Two lines that I consider the most heartbreaking I've ever written. And I specialize in heartbreak so that's saying something.

in Answering Machine, a fic where Sycamore calls Lysandre multiple times over the course of XY, taking the form of answering machine messages, we get to the inevitable end. There are no more replies. Sycamore has taken to calling just to hear Lysandre's voice on the machine.

You’ve reached Lysandre; leave a message.

“Maybe I’m just blathering at this point. But I really wish I could talk to you again. I mi–”

Mailbox full.

The other is from a Pokemon Violet fic, At the End Of Forever about Turo and the AI. Specifically it's about Turo's death, from the AI's perspective. They both know his time is extremely short, and Turo is rapidly losing consciousness.

He sighed a final time, and with the last of his voice, softly asked "Do you think I'll see Paradise?"

There was no way for me to answer that question with any truth, but he was well aware of that as well. Anything I said would have to suffice as merely my own words; my own, rather than his. So I spoke honestly. "I hope so."

No reply. He continued to breathe, shallowly, already so far removed from the rapidity of just a moment before, and I brushed my thumb down his cheek again in case he could still feel it.

It was on me to complete his project. Use the time machine to bring about his dream of merging present and future. Create his ideal of a world of scientific advancement, even at the cost of Paldea and the world.

It had made sense to him. Destruction was simply part of existence, he had said. Even in his dying words, he had repeated that sentiment.

Yet he had given his life to save another. Surely if destruction was so inherent, he would have simply let the Guardian kill Miraidon.

I doubt even he truly knew why he had intervened. Had he known that doing so would likely end his life? Would he have been so confident had he known, or would he have done so regardless? Likely it did not matter. His instinct had been to act, no matter the consequence.

So in thought was I that I did not at first notice that he was no longer breathing, that his heart had entirely stopped.

 

[silverjirachi]

Ooh these are both super interesting!! I love epistolary stories (which I guess kind of is what phone calls would be?) so I think I'm definitely gonna have to check out Answering Machine. Mailbox full. Ough. Tragic T-T

Same thing with At the End of Forever with Turo and his AI. I think about how fucking eerie it would be to be a perfect copy of the person who made you, watching that person die and then having to live on in that space he created himself. And the fact that, of course, because it's kind of himself, that Turo already knows what he's going to say...

Really fascinating stuff! Thank you for sharing :)

 

[K_S]

Yeah blackjacks works got a lot of fun deep lines/scenarios scattered in thier work.

 

[Ambyssin]

"That's what I like to hear. Now, let's—"

Two blue blurs raced across the stage. Two stage lights exploded. Amidst the shower of sparks and embers, auroras shot out from Primarina's left. "What the—" He leaned over his turntable, eyes wide at the sight of his now-frozen backup dancers. Lightning streaked across the stage. Sparks filled Primarina's vision. He smacked back against the multicolored wall, his destroyed stage decorations barely visible with his blurry vision.

The crowd descended into gasps and frightened murmurs. "Primarina!" several crowd members cried, with a few girls screaming for good measure.

"Ungh." Primarina hopped back to his turntable, rubbing his head. His rainbow eyes blazed in anger. "Alright, babes! Just what the hell is going on here, huh?"

White smoke poured out from stage left, drawing surprised gasps from the audience. Tessa's silhouette appeared in the middle of the fog. "When someone asks 'What's going on here?'…"

"… it's our duty to answer!" Shane said, his silhouette appearing next to Tessa's.

The fog abruptly disappeared. A light shined in on Tessa from backstage, revealing she now wore a white jumpsuit with a golden R streaked across the chest. Her chest spike stuck out from the center of the R.

"Prepare for trouble… this concert's a hack!" Tessa said, pointing at Primarina.

A second light turned on from backstage, revealing Shane. Like Tessa, he had a white jumpsuit running down to his waist. A golden R sat on his chest, underneath his open collar.

"And make it double… because you're totally whack!" Shane said, flicking his snout skyward.

"To protect the world from devastation!" Tessa said, rushing out on stage and crouching into a fighting stance.

"And unite all Pokémon across the nation!" Shane said, leaping out next to Tessa and snorting out clouds of frost.

"To showcase the power of friendship and love," Tessa said, forming a heart with her paws and winking at the crowd.

"And extend our reach to the stars above," Shane said, his body flashing with a golden aura while his Naturia Looplet glowed.

"Tessa!" she said, crossing her arms.

"Shane!" he shouted, flicking his mane and using his mouth to catch the white rose that fell out.

"Team Radiance beats foes back at the speed of light," Tessa said, throwing her right arm and posing.

"Surrender now… or prepare to fight!" Shane finished, stomping a forepaw on the ground and fanning out his tails.

"Silvally… that's right!" Silvally shouted, dashing in and skidding to a halt between his teammates. Two bursts of confetti came in from the left side of the stage. Silvally immediately turned around, fearing an attack from Primarina. But Primarina simply sat behind his turntable, slumped over in disbelief. Likewise, the crowd was dead silent. Shane feared his plan hadn't worked.

"Hey, I recognize them! They're the headliners!" came a voice from the crowd.

"Yeah! They changed their costumes," another voice noted.

"Whoa… I didn't know there was going to be a stage show during the concert! This is awesome!" a third voice shouted. And with that, the crowd broke into applause.

"Okay, I'll admit I had my doubts… but that was actually pretty fun!" Tessa said, giggling. "Saying that motto just filled me up with so much energy! We should do it more often."

"Aha ha… whatever you say," Shane said, making a mental note never to let slip where he'd swiped that routine from.

"I'm serious, Shane," Tessa said, still smirking. "Maybe when this is all over, we should consider performance careers."

"Yeah… we could be actors," Silvally said. He and Tessa burst out laughing.

Still one of my favorite things to write to do this day.

 

[silverjirachi]

omg im dying at this the team rocket references 😭😭😭 this is so silly fantastic

 

[TheCouchEffect]

Oh boy. Hmmm... I guess for me, one of the scenes I enjoyed writing most in A New Path was the Fall of Alto Mare. For a bit of context, Interpol and Team Rocket had been playing a game of cat and mouse. Interpol is trying to catch Proton and eliminate the Rocket cell in the city. Meanwhile, Rocket is searching for research on an ancient artifact connected to the Soul Dew. To cut a long story short, they both end up succeeding. Interpol manages to catch Proton... but Rocket gets away with the Soul Dew.

Leading to the entire city being submerged under the waters that made it famous. Because without the Soul Dew in the city to ward that danger off, there's nothing stopping nature from violently reclaiming its territory.

At the time, I was wrangling with feelings of inadequacy. A general unease and uncertainty that anything I did would have meaning. That my own failures wouldn't just affect me, but the people around me in ways I couldn't predict. In a much more grandiose way, some of that transferred to the scene itself. There's a sense of hopelessness for a lot of the scene as the characters wrangle not only with impending doom, but that their failure is what lead to this.

But while I was writing the scene, I ended up imparting a bit more of my general beliefs into it. That no matter how bad things get or how far you fall, you can always get back up. You can always try again. And you can always be a small ray of hope, even if you yourself have none.

The scene ends with the city destroyed, but the people of the city and all those nearby who can help banding together in their darkest hour not just to survive, but to save as many others as they can. Even inspiring former enemies to help each other. It helped transform a scene that before was pretty bleak into something almost... hopeful.

As a writer, I enjoyed it just for the overall themes and sense of scope it adds to the story. Personally, I remember it fondly as an expression of my own ability to keep moving forward.

 

[ErazonPo3]

There are a few scenes that I'm really proud of in Lucid Paradoxy, because I feel they encapsulate the themes of the story or the characters' feelings or changing relationships, but to choose one scene that hopefully serves as a nice little excerpt without giving too much of the story away, I want to share what I have internally dubbed "the Toothbrush Monologue".

It's one of those scenes I hadn't planned in my outline but had to be squeezed in to fill some gaps, and ended up really striking a chord with me. It might not be the most subtle way of capturing Diantha's feelings of loneliness, but I thought about how she wouldn't be used to sharing spaces with people very much, to the point where she's so moved by something as simple as having to move somebody else's toothbrush. And if she's a little melodramatic about it, well, she is a theatre kid at heart!

The monologue itself is only really a paragraph, but I think the context surrounding it enhances it too; sharing a hotel room with Malva, somebody she barely trusts not to stab her in the back in the middle of the night, and yet it's more mundane than anything else.

Spoiler: The Toothbrush Monologue

When Diantha wakes, she opens her eyes to an unfamiliar darkness. In the seconds it takes for her consciousness to catch up with her senses, she remembers that she’s in a hotel room, in the Sinnoh region. At some point in the night her sheets had abandoned her, and currently lay cast off the side of the bed. The air conditioner is running warmer than she’s used to, but Malva had been adamant.

She turns her head to make out the shape of the other bed and its occupant. Malva’s body is turned to face the wall, unmoving but for the gentle rise and fall of her side. Carefully, Diantha gets to her feet. Without the struggle of having to free herself from the blankets, she’s able to noiselessly stand up and wander over to the thermostat, and lowers it down to 18C. If Malva doesn’t like it, she’s going to have to wake up and change it back herself. Before heading back to bed, however, she steps into the bathroom. Even with the lights switched on the room is dark, walled with marbled granite and impractical fixtures. Malva’s toothbrush is strewn over the basin, and she moves it back to the tumbler while she tries to figure out how to turn the water on, poking at the array of puzzling buttons that seem to shuffle in every hotel lavatory.

How long has it been since she’s had to share a hotel room overnight? She hasn’t shared so much as a dressing room in years. The lifestyle of an actress can be paradoxically lonely; everybody knows her name, and people she’s never even met could tell you her birthday, but there’s no-one who can name the colour of her toothbrush. She’s had romantic entanglements in the past, but of those that weren’t PR-approved dates, few could keep up with her erratic schedule. Rosalie’s company makes her lifestyle bearable, and their achievement of Mega Evolution is a tangible expression of the profound bond they share. The days spent training to reach new heights, and the nights spent watching movies together, and their unique empathic connection are all part of why she’s able to juggle both a career and her Championship without being driven off the edge of insanity. But Rosalie doesn’t have a toothbrush.

It’s such an unremarkable thing, but it’s never occurred to her how personal something as simple as a plastic stick can be. It’s a cheap monument to personal hygiene that plenty of people would never even share with an intimate partner. It’s something so mundane that it can be easy to forget to pack— but the sight of a second one, of a different colour and a different brand, is so incredibly alien to her.

When she steps out of the bathroom again, there’s a tall shape blocking the suite hallway. Diantha gasps instinctively, heart lurching with adrenaline, but Malva only glares at her through the blind darkness as she turns the thermostat back up.

 

[Ambyssin]

"Are you Bob?" she asked Beldum.

[Ah, guests!] The beldum's mechanical voice was cheerful. Their circular head spun around in their socket. [You are correct. One moment while I engage my charming accent.]

Cyril scratched his head. "Don't really have a moment. Liza's waiting for you."

[Well, shine my boots and call me Sally!] Bob's new accent was... homely, to Yuna's surprise. And concern. [I reckon I ought to head back to the ol' farm, then. Y'all should follow me over yonder. It ain't safe 'round these here parts.]

Bob turned around and hovered toward the entrance of the collider wing.

"Bob just pinged me!" Liza said. "With a... howdy. Guess you found them."

"Yeah." Cyril started after him. "They're... something."

Liza sighed through the X-transceiver. "I thought I'd fixed that quirk of theirs. They watch one cowboy movie and suddenly they're talking like 'em at the drop of a hat. I swear the guests are encouraging them."

"I'm... fine." Yuna swallowed hard. The pink light was gone. "Where's the beldum?"

[I'm right here!] a cheerful voice proclaimed. Jim drifted down to Yuna's eye level. [Hello, non-hostile entities! Are you my new best friends?]

Yuna blinked once. Twice. Leo looked ready to make Jim his second sibling, so she hastily said, "No. Your trainer's looking for you."

Jim's lone eye teared up. [Friendship request: denied. Initializing sad noises.] Their gaze fell, then they produced a crackled recording of a crying baby.

"Sheesh." Cyril had his hands over his ears. "How about you initialize returning to Liza?"

The crying abruptly stopped. [Command accepted.]

Jim spun around and zipped down the hallway.

One of the doors behind her opened before she got the chance, however. Jim hovered through, looking at the team.

[Hello. Are you my new best friends?]

Liza said to play along. Which meant...

"Uh, sure." Yuna hesitantly bobbed her head.

[Friendship request... accepted?]

Jim's red eye swelled up in a way Yuna didn't think possible for a beldum.

[Oh, happy noises!]

Jim spun around excitedly, playing scratched, crackled sounds resembling a cheering audience. They shot toward the other end of the room. [We have so much to best friend about! I can show you my thinking spot... oh! Or my favorite piece of peeling plaster!] they chirped. [How do you feel about tacos, new best friends? Because I think they are the beedrill's knees, but if you do not like them, I will not like them with you.]

A tired sigh escaped her lips. She looked at Cyril. "You're not really a ranger, are you?" Her gaze fell to Noctum, Valkyrie, and Nikki. "Hell, you're not from here period."

"Welp." Cyril scratched his fake blue hair. "Guess the torracat's outta the bag."

Blue light shimmered around him. A cosmic zoroark emerged, still scratching his wild, blue-purple mane. "But you gotta admit, Liza, it's a good thing we were here."

Liza whirled on the two beldum that had appeared in the doorway. "God— if you knew he was a zoroark you could've said something!"

[A zoroark? Dewott in tarnation?!] One beldum's eye was as wide as Liza's. [Sorry, sheriff. This here cowpoke's headspace was full of that there corrupted data.]

Sometimes you can have some fun with bit characters.

 

[Cherry_BombBees]

This one comes from an upcoming chapter of mine!

Spoiler: The Remoraid and the Mantyke

"You believe in karma, right? Do good things, expect good things to return along the lines, right? In a way its a never ending cycle, exactly like mutualistic symbiosis. Take a Mantyke and a Remoraid; without the Remoraid, a Mantyke cannot evolve into a Mantine. But without a reliable Mantine to latch on, the Remoraid cannot feed and grow, thus, delaying any evolution into Octillery. But which came first in evolution? Pay no heed. Everyone in this society is someone's Mantine or a Remoraid."

 

[K_S]

(Appologies got any typos... Ye oldie phone in use as usual)

I'd say i've got two scenes to draw from... Well scenarios... Still.

First off is giovanni and graces courtship told in flashbacks in Transversal...

Why i picked it: its told in flash backs because in present time and place he's dealing with a torment the legends have crafted for him... A game esk rival that has his deceesed wife's voice... And between that and recovering from being blitzed by psychic overload he's mulling on what he had vs whats before him and barely coping. And between the emotional dagger of "this attachment is wrong, i know it ," and the outrage of "how dare they do this to me" and the realization that this girl might be more a victim than he is... Well sandwitched between all that is a sincerly sweet boy mets girl. Well, as sweet as an active member of a criminal syndicate deeply tied to his work can swing it...

Spoiler: Gio realizing his feelings (past)

Parties in Viridian were funerals with a festive spin. Perhaps off-put by the natural greens and spring about the city the rich and famous who gathered in Kanto’s green heart wore colors long associated with funerals. Black, near see-through, speckled with gems to the point of looking like cheap sequins made of diamonds, was the norm. She skipped that memo, cycling through a few vibrant colors before settling into a flattering red, ankle-length dress that’d made it easy to trace her moments as she wandered about.

It was about the time she’d settled into her preferred colors that he’d admit he was attending more events just to see her. That he was gathering tales and weighing approaches, and it’d been a year and a half that she’d gotten that lucky ticket. And the wonder of her, such a low-class girl, being a part of the upper eulachons, was starting to wear thin in his circles. She’d been getting fewer invites, and he’d come to the realization that he’d have to approach, sooner rather than later, but there was a terror in doing so. Clay wasn’t the only man she’d shot down in self-defense, and while he wasn’t like that, drunk or cold stone sober, he had his own reputation she might misinterpret.

Though, on the other hand, she seemed oblivious to him, his regard, and really anything beyond her altruism and her amusements.

It was a curious and endearing sort of tunnel vision.

He’d normally not listen to the various chat shows and gossip rags given air time, but it made acceptable and educational background noise while he worked. Winter was coming, a time when he focused on the social aspects of his public persona. Not bothered by holidays, religious leanings, or familial obligations, he’d been neck-deep in the workings of his syndicate until a day ago. Unfortunately working among the dredges of society had its… messy aspects… And he was dealing with the residue of executions on his wardrobe. While not quite neck-deep, it’d made a mess of his shirt and undershirt, as one of the fools to be killed had had the audacity to fight back. He’d peeled off his shirt and was working off a pair of blood-stained gloves while the tv prattled on. Rocket uniform shucked off and thrown upon a sheet of plastic, he made idle plans of burning, tossing one glove after the mess, and fighting a bit with the second.

Her name, and the word scandal, stopped him halfway with the other glove. The horror that she’d raised was a tame thing. Not dressing as the other social climbers. Some interviewer or other had pinned her down at her work, ignored her calls to security, to grill her on the many social norms she was eschewing. Wasn’t she aware of the shame of not stimulating the fashion industry, by not trading her garb with every event…

Her response, that this prattle was keeping her from her patient, and that the interviewer needed to go, now, was hardly marking a dent… And, because she hadn’t been taught better, she made something of a fatal mistake, she’d responded to the question pressed to her.

Why waste the money? Her candor had caused Giovanni to huff a laugh, the other glove off and among the pile, relief both surprising and potent as it ran through him and the prprogram went on.

Grace, a woman without many social ones, merrily alternated between tearing into the interviewer about how it was better to be frugal than flagrant and how he was compromising the care of her patient… Thensecurity had come and hauled the damned fool of an interrogator off and the media bit had tapered off, switching to other subjects.

Second bit from transversal.
Silvers abduction in the mamga verse.

Why i picked it:
Its the first time Gio just looses it. Previously he had been at deaths door losing to legends and he'd been the picture of control both of himself and circumstances. And i wanted to see him just... Not be that collected. I alsi wanted to figure out the how behind canon's established why.... It also goes a good way to also exploring his utter hate of legendary mon which a key trait of my headcanon manga giovanni.

Spoiler: Silvers abduction

The Hide Armor of the Unnamed Tyrant had been Team Rocket's first breakthrough.


True, indisputable, confirmation of the Legend's existence that wasn't hearsay or his own sighting.

Giovanni's personal bit of hearsay, his viewing of a Legend, had been a thing of utter desperation. His "encounter" had started when he'd been woken by the sound of shattering glass. Shaking off sleep he'd raced down the hall, throwing open his son's bedroom door to see golden talons of a gigantic bird had plowed through the forced opening of a broken window. The avian was rooting through the room, and it'd been madness as the lights were trying to die and the bird's wing strokes were part thunder, part smoldering. The very air sizzled and steamed as rain met a "god" of fire and the resulting steam had been like stepping into a nightmarish sauna.

The walls burned on the outside. Never truly catching as it was a hellish downpour of hail and rain outside. The beast hung half on half off the outer wall of the building for support, embers rained from the things every wingstroke as it fought for balance and reaching all at once.

Giovanni had frozen at the sight of that monstrosity. Not believing. But belief fell to facts. Heart hammering, he realized the angle of the reaching limb, the slant of the gouges in the floor, all pointed towards his son's bed and it'd only been chance the talons hadn't connected, sharp or grip. Swearing, Giovanni lunged, intent on snapping up his boy and bolting.

The basement's panic room... He could make it in less than five at a dead run, he just needed this one thing to go right...

Of course, it hadn't.

The bird, all sunlight and malice, had heard him, and it twisted about to better see him.

And the Legend's regard was a pressure akin to boulders slammed against his back. No mere man could stand against it. And he hadn't. Struck down to his knees by a glare, near senseless from the bird's attention, Giovanni couldn't see. Wasn't permitted to even stand, and so at his Legends feet, in the ruins of his son's room, he'd been forced to assume a pose that the ignorant would take as prayerful.

If he couldn't stand, so he wouldn't, he crawled. Calling assurances to the sobbing, fear paralyzed child, he was here, he was coming... The smoldering carpets, the blindness that made him travel by touch and memory were of no moment...

He just needed one more moment, and the "gods" did not grant him even that.

A warble of victory from above, as claws found their target and gripped.

His boy's scream would haunt him as he was dragged up and away. Waking and sleeping, for years and years.

Picking up the pelt for the first time, that ultimate proof of a Legend's death, he heard those screams again, echoing in his memory, and if he wasted a day or so imagining it with sun-hued feathers in steed of golden fur, snapped talons and beak shavings serving as bindings instead of whatever claws had been threaded through the thing...

That was his business.

Linkity

Transversal forum link
Transversal ao3 link