Lore/Story Hive Drabbles: Tasogare Oyaji

Hey, I got a headcold recently so I got inspired to write this dumb story about Qira getting a headcold too. Might write more if I get the inspiration to.

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“Mistress, I know it is not my place to make demands of you, but you must rest-”

“You insufferable slave, I’ll rest when I damn well feel like it!”

Such echoed the words down the corridors of the Hive. In as much as the great, feared Mistress of the Hive was powerful and unrivaled in magical skill, there were some things that magic simply did not have the power to heal. One such thing...were head colds. Capable of healing scratches, cuts, and even mending organs together, but viruses and illnesses remained unfazed at even her most aggressive healing chants. In her head, effigies of the sickness scoffed at her magic. “Oh pish posh,” they said. And so, the servants of the Hive found themselves holding the Mistress back, keeping her bedridden.

“Guys, maybe we shouldn’t be keeping her locked up like this...?” One servant meekly offered, simply standing in the doorway twiddling her fingers together.

“Dear, I know you don’t want to anger the Mistress,” another servant started, this one aged and wizened. “However, if she should die, you would have no place to go, would you?”

“I...I guess not, but-”

“Listen to Orja, servants! She has the most sense in her head out of any of you all! Let me be, and-” Qira’s angered yelling was cut off by a short, rasping cough, followed by a series of ones not unlike it. Inwardly, she cursed her throat for being so raw from the cold. A hush fell over the room; her servants did not know the severity of her sickness and so had assumed the worst. Indignantly rubbing her hand over her neck, Qira started to speak again, quieter this time.

“This is an inconvenience at worst, a simple cold. There is no need for such concern. I will say it as clearly as I can: I. Will. Be. Fine.” She shot every servant, save Orja, a dangerous glare. The one she would have given to her was instead redirected to Yansur, who cringed away. “Am I well understood?”

“Yep, we all understand completely!”

A voice that did not belong to any of the dark-cloaked servants rang out in the room, and a gentle breeze coalesced from behind the group. Blue wisps of air carried by this breeze wafted in, swirling into the unmistakable ghostly form of Gale, whose tongue was stuck out towards the enraged Mistress.

“We all understand that you’re a workaholic who can’t deal with the thought of...” She gave a theatrical gasp, hands coming up to her cheeks in an over-exaggerated expression of shock. “...taking a day of rest! Oh, the horror!” Qira’s face contorted, but she didn’t dare speak. Her throat was feeling dry, and if she did she surely would have just lapsed into another coughing fit.

“Don’tcha worry, all of you,” Gale continued. “I know just how to take care of Miss Pouty-face here. You just go back to what you’re doing and let the big girls take care of it! That’s an order~” She punctuated this statement with a wink and a waggle of her finger. It took a few moments for this to sink in with the crowd, but once Yansur scurried away, the rest were decently quick to follow. Orja was the last to go. Only after everyone was securely down the corridors and out of earshot did Qira finally speak again.

“Did you...really need to perform those ridiculous theatrics, you...?”

“Heehee, yup! Just cause I know it peeves you when I do~” Gale turned around to face her Mistress with a little twirl on one ethereal foot.

“Urgh, you can be insufferable when you want to be. You know that, right?”

“Oh, you can’t fool me. I saw you trying to keep down that smile!”

And with that, Qira was rendered speechless. The spirited girl was right; as annoying as these antics could be on a good day, there was something familiar to them that managed to brighten up a poor day in turn. She knew she wasn’t getting out of this one, not without a very persistent ghost following her around and telling her to just go to bed already. With a groan, she shuffled over to the bed, clambering under the covers. Not like I’d had the chance to change out of my nightdress anyways, she idly thought to herself. Gale threw her hands together, smiling. The inimitable wall of work-obsessed stubbornness that was Qira had been subdued.

“I know you want to make sure the challengers are overseen right, but the servants can do that too, and it’s not like they can’t just wait for a day or two if one does somehow manage to actually clear out all the divisions.”

“It only makes me angrier that you are correct.”

“Yeah, everyone hates admitting that Yansur can do anything right.”

A short giggle was shared between the two, unfortunately sending Qira coughing again.

“I’ll be bringing up Pleiades to watch on you for now, since they’re coming to try the Air division in a little while.”

“Urf. Why not bring up the Psycho while you’re at it. Maybe he can erase the part of my mind that controls the feeling in my sinuses.”

“Heehee! Maybe I will, just for you~”

A pillow was lobbed. It missed horribly. It was then lobbed back, with pinpoint accuracy, landing in the face of an indignant Qira.

“I always was the better archer, y’know!”

“Gale. Shut up and bring the Vanguard here already.”

“Heehee, on it~”

Gale’s form dematerialized with the breeze flowing through the chamber. The air went still as she left. For a few minutes, Qira contemplated of nothing in particular. She simply wanted to keep her mind off of that insufferable scratchy sensation in her throat, gracelessly letting her head fall back against the pillow she didn’t throw, nearly screaming in exasperation when a particular thought crossed her head.

Colds always take a long time to heal...

 

Quality content, I liked the story hahaha

 

I feel like Gale would have a British English Accent

 

Gale, probably: "Haha I can annoy you to death since I am a ghost and you cannot harm me. Also something I observed about your free time: You don't have any."

 

Hey wow I wrote more just in time to not have the thread get necroed, what great timing.

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“...urgh. Perhaps she really should have called the Psychomancer instead.”

The air grew warmer around the bedridden Mistress of the Hive, signaling the arrival of the Solar Vanguard into her chamber. The dark walls gained a cozy orange glow to them as he stepped out of the corridor into the bedroom. An imposing figure to be certain, but one with naught but care in his head at the moment. The sheer red glow between the joints of his armour died down slowly; he had heard Qira’s exasperated statement.

“My apologies, Mistress. If my heat is too stifling, I could wait in the hall for if I am needed?”

“No, no. Gale insisted you watch me, and certainly if you were in the hall she would have words with me.” She was in no mood to argue; after laying down again the sickness had sapped most of her energy, and the warmth from the Vanguard only served to make her even more lethargic and sleepy. A yawn bubbled from the back of her throat, and her attempts to stifle it only resulted in another fit of coughs.

“Perhaps you would care for some tea, to soothe your throat,” the Vanguard offered, settling himself down on a stone-hewn chair next to Qira’s bed. “I can call for some to be made, if you wish.” She was too tired to argue, giving a simple dismissive wave. He was wizened enough to her habits to realize that such a signal was the best he was going to get out of her at this time. Palming the inset stone in his left gauntlet and holding it in front of his facemask, an image appeared in the stone, of a room filled with the image of swirling robes and swinging staves.

“I’ve a request for one of you.”

At those words, the dancing ceased in but a moment, each Flame Dancer stopping in their tracks and turning to face the communication portal. One was quicker than the other to step forward.

“Kūka Makani wa anata no sābisu ni kenkyo ni taiō shite imasu. Nani o yōkyū shimasu ka?”

“The Mistress would like some tea. Retrieve some sap from the Molten Willows and request water from the Aqua Nishati. Report to the Mistress’s chambers when it is done, and bring a kettle’s worth rather than simply one cup.”

“Hai! Sugu ni zairyō o atsume hajimemasu.” The dancer threw her staves onto the wall in one smooth motion, both landing firmly in their holders, and she skated gracefully out of the room in search of the requested items. The Vanguard turned to Qira, about to inform her that the tea was on its way, but when he looked, her eyes were shut. She was asleep. I will keep the tea warm for when she awakens, he thought to himself, turning the chair to face the doorway, and so he waited.

And as he waited, he realized something. She would also require food, wouldn’t she? I do not need to eat, but I believe she does. And soon after that, he realized something else. I have no frame of reference for anything that is edible other than tea. I will have to ask, then...but who to ask. The Judge would not accept a trifling question as this, and miss Gale is on standby for the contestants. The servants do not have a connection, which leaves...

“Psychomancer.”

Looking into the stone again, it was pure red, save for an erratically twitching black dot. After a few moments, the red receded, revealing a large cycloptic eye and an annoyed scowl.

“And what do YOU want, you hot-headed firepit?”

“What does the mistress eat?”

There was silence. For a good minute, the silence stretched on.

“What does the mistr-”

“I HEARD YOU! But why are you even asking that kind of inane question?! Let her starve, half-bake!”

“I will not. But I would not feed her something she could not eat. So, do you know what she could eat?”

“Oh, I’ll TELL you what she can eat, she can EAT MY-”

He turned the stone dark for a few moments. The detestable psychopath was far too loud. Thankfully, Qira had not wakened from the noise. Only after a few minutes had passed did he risk turning the communicator on again.

“Psychomancer.”

“Go douse yourself, you cinder-blockhead.”

“Need I remind you that I am higher in command than you are?”

“No, you DON’T need to. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t! What a concept!”

“Need I also remind you that, as the beast has no mental faculties, I have secondary authority over the Earth Division?”

More silence on the other end. The Psychomancer's eye narrowed.

“What’re you insinuating?”

“If you do not tell me what Mistress can eat, I will be exercising that authority.”

“Heeheehahahaaa! You can’t make them kill me, you burnt-out matchstick! I’m a Division Leader too, remember?!”

“There is no rule stating that I could not command a Humbark to sit on you until you listen to me.”

“Wait, wha-”

“There is also no rule stating that I could not command a Jangwa Growth to follow you and choke you for air.”

“You wouldn-”

“There is also no rule stating that I could not command a Subur Pencari to jab sharp needles into your-”

“OKAY, FINE, FINE!!” The Psychomancer screeched and cringed away from the communication portal. “YOU WIN, DEAR LORD!”

“What does the mistress eat?”

“Feh, just cause you have order doesn’t mean I’m going to be the one carrying them out. I’ll send someone upstairs if you just leave me alone, you plasma-belching cretin!”

“That would be acceptable. Send them up immediately. And ensure that whomever it is you send is capable of communication.”

“...you’re no fun. I hate you.”

“Send them up immediately.”

With that, he turned the stone dark. In the Psychomancer’s room, he quickly plotted a new way to get back at the Vanguard. Oh, he wants something edible?! I’ll be sure to give him it! Punishment be damned, he put me in a bad mood!! Soon, a plan was hatched. He would send THAT one up. The thought of that smarmy Vanguard’s face would be worth having a needle poked in his eye...

 

Bumped for Hive shenanigans.

 

since you're a CT member we are to treat this as canon right?

....

 

See, that's the thing; I'm not sure.

I'm writing this as though it were canon, which means I'm writing them all within character while not giving away any truly important details, though I am not sure how we handle supplemental writings of this nature and whether or not it'd be considered truly canon. It's kind of in limbo at the moment.

 

When you’re the greatest archer to ever exist you can probably get away with annoying the greatest sorceress as well

 

10 lasagnas out of 10

 

Bump
Also I’m pretty sure this is canon until explicitly denied to be by Grian, as it is technically written by a member of the development team and Grian is the highest ranking (and only) loremaster, as it were.

 

This is some interesting stuff

 

Will you be doing more?

 

saved from necro

 

Necro is 30 days...

 

i thought it was 29.953

 

Bump so no necropost

 

It's sort of like Portal Stories: Mel, then?
It doesn't break the canon at all, while providing extra context into what happened at a specific perioid of time, builds the world more (like solar vanguard having control over earth division, them all having personalities, and so on), catches the tone well, but isn't confirmed canon. Effectively a sort of "Slap two words on it and you'll never notice it's not canon" situation.