What Comes Around ch 11 bit – no Danger Rooms

“Does everything run on paperwork?” Aladdin grumbled, finished poking at the door lever. “It sounds worse than the Kou Empire!”

And you aren’t nearly as innocent as you look, Tiburon realized, catching that flicker of worry in blue eyes. You’re stalling. Letting Alan have another moment to breathe before he has to try and put on “I can handle it” again. Continue reading


Princess Rama – Small Warriors

A/N: Never tick off a healer. Never, ever, ever….

“Can’t anyone stop that monster?”

“We’re trying, but Ravana’s warriors seem numberless as grains of sand.” Sushena’s breath hissed. “Even your sister and husband are tied up in the fighting. Angada and Sugriva themselves are leading assaults on Kumbhakarna’s legs, but he doesn’t even bother to flick them off. They might as well be ants attacking a mountain!” Continue reading

What Comes Around Ch 11 bit – ignition

Alan raised his hand to grip curved steel, feeling a faint tickle of other-curiosity. And the oddest sense of stiffness.

…Right. Djinn of decorum. This is a spar, not a life-or-death fight. Formal. Teacher and student. And – we’re supposed to be partners. Working together. I should be polite.

He remembered the incantation Aladdin had used. He could sense it, floating in the back of his mind. Continue reading

Princess Rama – ongoing giants’ battle

A/N: Because going from Epic to Heroic Fantasy means some Reality has to Ensue.


Laks coughed out dust and bits of rock grains, arm still aching where Angada had plucked him up bodily and made one of his incredible vanara flying jumps. “Are we-?”

“Alive? Some of us,” the vanara prince said breathlessly. “Stupid, stupid – we knew they still had magic-workers amongst the army, but we were looking for illusions…. Uncle!” Continue reading

What Comes Around Ch 11 bit – in reserve

“You’re going to have to move me to emergency contact only. Something’s come up.”

Helping Morgan and Aunt Shionne tally up the class weapons by number and condition, Alan glanced at Tiburon. The swordsman stalked the gym, phone gripped in a carefully gentle hand, and rolled green eyes at whoever was on the other end, patiently miffed. Either whoever he was talking to was being deliberately thick, or Tiburon couldn’t figure out how Tyler had managed to bend a spearhead into a corkscrew either. Continue reading