#// at one point i thought about picking up chey

[sialiia]

ㅤㅤ❝𝓞h really? Dang... that sucks.❞

Open Starter || Jonah Simms || Cloud 9 Associate

"Look I'm happy to call another store, but I'm pretty sure that's universally out of stock."

[shortystoriesbybri]

Part 2...

At the time we were texting because she was not home, so I replied in all caps THAT’S NOT RIGHT AND YOU KNOW IT! If there are three adults in the house , the bills need to be split down into three parts. It’s mind boggling  that I even had to say this because she had a roommate a few years back and this is the agreement she had with her and Daniel back in the day. I truly was being fucked over and Chey and Jason were laughing at me about it. I did what anybody else I knew would do. I MOVED BACK in with my mom. Not fully I still had all my stuff there but as far as clothes and necessities went was covered. A couple months had passed by and I got a notice from the rental office who I had been harassing at this point to get my name off the lease. He said it didn’t matter anymore because nobody was paying bills. There was now an open eviction being served and court dates to attend. NOT ONE DOLLAR was paid to them after I moved out. I spoke with my mom after court, of course she came with me and said I needed to take someone with me and pack my things up and make sure they are ready on the last day before the complex locked all the doors and I lost everything. That’s exactly what I did, I took Free with me Michaels other Baby mother with me and she helped me pack up. It took us about an hour to get it all prepared to be moved. I never even had a chance to decorate my room or buy furniture because I was only there for a month not even. Chey had been selling sex toys for about a year at that point and she wouldn’t give me back my timbs I left in her car. On the way out of the apartment I took a toy. My intentions were to hold it until I received my almost $200.00 shoes back but I never got them back, so she never got her shit back. The last day comes for us to be out of the apartment, I go in my room with my dad so that we can get all my belongings out of the apartment but the first thing I notice is that my mom’s tv that she had just gave me was gone. Chey with her shiesty ass stole my moms tv out my room. I was livid because first you steal my timbs, I hold your shit hostage and instead of giving me my stuff back and trade Chey continued to steal from me. I was livid , I picked up the phone and called her on my dad’s phone and her man answered the phone. I started yelling , she grabbed the phone and hung up…….Five years go by with me being the one who ended the friendship.  Just the thought of Chey being in my life 8 years. I was a freshman in high school and doing me this dirty over a man that was addicted to perks and couldn’t provide for his self I was hurt.  She was being taken advantage of and I got the shittiest end of the stick. Five years go by, there was no beef and I had seen her a couple times at Michael’s house for a party or two however, there was never any interaction because she knew to tread lightly around me. We got older I was 26 when I reached back out to her off the picture I seen her mom post of her pregnancy. I congratulated her and she wondered how tf I even found out. I told her that I seen it on her mom’s page because we were still friends online. We started speaking Everyday again, I got her kid a bunch of shit for his arrival. The first thing she said to me after being cool again was “I never spoke bad on you, and I never said I would never speak to you again because you are a good friend.” Everything was cool for about two years not knowing in the month of November when she was telling me that She took Michael to see his son being born back in the day but it struck me that I had never heard that version, I was always told that Pam had taken Michael for this birth of his child. At that moment I had a million and five questions but I knew she would just lie and cover her ass, so I waited for the right time to ask Michael. Now this is 10 years later, so I know when Michael is about to lie.  While on the phone asking Michael about other things that he has put me through in the past he told me yes or no. Then I hit him with the question about Chey and he smirked ..............

To be continued....

[noellawrites]

Playing for You - Yandere!Marcus White x reader

requested by: @wicked1will0sparkles

summary: kind of a re-write of 2x13, Ladies’ Lunch. You confess your feelings about Marcus while you’re drunk at Ladies’ Lunch while Marcus literally fights for you. Everything culminates when you return to the store. I know Tate wasn’t in the ep but it just fits better like this!

warnings: drinking, female objectification, talk of pregnancy, talk of bodily injuries, cuss words, age gap relationship, vomiting

“I just” you paused to hiccup, “I want someone who will love me unconditionally. L-like what you have with Bo, Chey!”

“Girl please, save some dick for the rest of us!” Justine laughed, taking a sip of her third margarita.

“W-What are you talking about?” you asked, clueless to whatever joke everyone else was in on. You’d been hopelessly single since you started working at Cloud 9– granted, it was mostly because you were juggling work and going to college and you told yourself that you didn’t have enough emotional capacity to serial date right now.

“Look, all Justine’s saying is that Marcus has been pussy whipped for you since the day you put on that blue vest, and everyone else can see it but you,” Dina sighed, raising her hands dejectedly.

“I—that’s not true at all! He just treats me like one of the guys, we’re just buddies!” you argued. But the more you tried to resist, the more you realized they might be right, but still, you picked up very little romance from him and more of a… bromance.

“It seems like you’re rocking hard against this, (y/n). Are you repulsed by Marcus like the rest of us? Because we can devise a plan to let him down easy,” Dina offered, raising her eyebrows at you.

“Alright, alright, I think we should just leave (y/n) alone. Her and Marcus’ feelings are between them,” Amy defended you out of her exhaustion from the conversation. She didn’t want to push you towards liking Marcus if you really didn’t.

“(Y/n), at least tell us if you like him! Or whisper it to me, I won’t tell!” Cheyenne said, leaning towards you. You leaned towards her ear, breaking the silence with a giggle.

You tried to hide the fact that you were tipsy, but as two not-quite-twenty-one-year-olds, you and Cheyenne had loaded up on the alcohol like there was no tomorrow.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell the truth. I’ve always liked Marcus, I just thought he was… out of my league,” you confessed, rolling your eyes and taking another hefty swig of your vodka cran.

This time, Cheyenne was the one who laughed. “Are you serious, (y/n)? He’s the one that’s out of your league,” she said.

“Yeah, he’s a giant man-child with serious mommy issues and like half the brain cells an adult is supposed to,” Dina pointed out.

“And you’re still tight in all the places that matter! In the old days, we’d call you a butter and egg fly,” Myrtle piped up.

“Uh… thanks, guys. I—” you paused to hiccup again, ”—was just worried because he’s older, and taller, and handsome, and—“

“Okay, okay, we get it, you’d drop your panties for Marcus. Can we move on to something else?” Dina sighed.

“Karaoke!” Justine screamed, cutting off your thoughts as she began pushing everyone towards the stage.

In order to gain some liquid courage before getting onstage, you gulped down three shots of tequila in addition to the three vodka cranberries you’d already consumed. Everything after that felt fuzzy as you floated in and out of consciousness.

—

While you endured a drunken lunch with the ladies of Cloud 9, the store’s men were playing some complicated hybrid ball game called ‘taped muffin.’

“Since Brett is still injured from his MMA fight, Tate will be taking his place in the final shootout. His opponent will be decided by a simple—“ Garrett began.

“I’ll do it,” Marcus stepped in. He’d been glaring at that egotistical asshole of a pharmacist since the game had begun.

Tate had shed his lab coat and now wore bubble wrap taped around the shoulders of his pressed white dress shirt. God, he hated that jerk. Ever since Marcus had watched Tate practically assault you with his flirting, he’d felt nothing short of vengeance towards the man.

“—okay, I wasn’t finished talking but, uh, I guess this game has made monsters out of all of us,” Garrett finished.

Marcus moved next to Tate, who was still flexing his muscles through his fancy shmancy suit.

“Alright, this is it. Winner gets (y/n),” Marcus said under his breath to Tate.

“C’mon dude, you’ve had your chance with her. Are we really going to play a juvenile game to win (y/n) when we already know she’d rather choose me?” he laughed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And what makes you think that?” Marcus said, gritting his teeth and leaning closer to Tate. He couldn’t wait to hear what this asshole has to say.

Tate laughed. “For starters, I make about ten times what you do. And I can actually give her children, unlike your defective wang. In fact,” he leaned closer, “I can’t wait to put my sperm in that tight body of hers and watch you grovel at my feet for stealing the woman you loved. It’s not my fault she’d never fall for a stupid, brainless, moronic ex-con who still lives with his mommy.” Tate laughed, taking a proud step back.

The men of the store watched as steam practically came out of Marcus’ ears. Sure, he knew you were super gorgeous, smart, funny and way out of his league, but guys like Tate were the reasons why women couldn’t trust men. He was objectifying you, and Marcus was not going to allow that.

As the other men gasped and whispered at Tate’s blatant bullying and womanizing, Marcus swung his fist at the pharmacist’s face, a painful-sounding crunch reverberating from Tate’s face as he fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

“OOOH SHIT! We’re going tap-out style, first one to hold the other down for a three-count WINS (Y/N)!” Garret announced over the loudspeaker.

“I really don’t think anybody should be winning someone,” Jonah pointed out as he stood next to Garrett.

“C’mon, let the poor guy have something,” Garrett said, effectively quieting Jonah.

—

When you woke up again, your upper body lay across Cheyenne’s lap as you sat in the back of whatever truck Dina had kidnapped you all in.

“I-I think I’m gonna be sick,” you groaned, shifting yourself so you wouldn’t throw up all over your best friend.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, here,” Cheyenne soothed, giving you a Cloud 9 plastic bag. You threw up in the bag twice as Cheyenne held your hair back. This felt like a sick nightmare, you would never drink like this again.

“Is she okay?” a voice asked from behind you in the truck.

“Obviously not, Sandra! Jeez,” Cheyenne said, rolling her eyes. “When we get back to the store, I’m going to get Mateo and he’s going to tell you about how in love with you Marcus is, okay? Mateo is literally an expert on this stuff,” Cheyenne assured you.

Without saying anything, you laid your head on Cheyenne’s ankle as you faded out of consciousness again.

—

“I’ll be okay, I promise,” you said, assuring Amy as she left for the day. Your shift was also technically over, but you didn’t want to leave the store until you felt less sick and more sober.

You grabbed a travel-sized toothpaste tube and a toothbrush off the shelf along with some mouthwash, bringing it to the employee bathroom.

Looking up at your disheveled reflection, you sighed and began to brush your teeth. You hadn’t even started to cope with this new revelation: almost everyone in the store seemed to agree that Marcus was in love with you. How could you be so blind?

More than anything, you wanted to find Marcus and talk to him. He’d probably clear everything up, apologize for the miscommunication and go back to hooking up with Dina or whatever. He always has and always will just see you as a little kid with a stupid schoolgirl crush on her older co-worker.

You sighed, exiting the bathroom. You stumbled towards the front of the store, where you knew Garrett would be for at least another few hours.

To your surprise, Jonah was sitting on the customer service desk next to Garrett as they spoke in low voices. You narrowed your eyes at them, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Uh, guys? Hello?” you interjected, tripping over your foot then leaning on the desk for support.

“Woah there, what’s wrong with you?” Jonah asked.

“I just got… uh, a little drunk at the ladies… thing,” you sighed.

“You missed a lot while you were gone, two guys fought over you,” Garrett announced. Jonah widened his eyes and attempted to shush him.

“What, ah, what he, um, means is that—“

“Dude, she’s gonna find out anyway. Might as well tell her,” Garrett disagreed.

“Just tell me!” you seethed.

“Uh, well, Marcus beat Tate to a pulp because they were both trying to win you in taped muffin, and now Tate’s at SLU Hospital getting a cast for his broken neck and dislocated shoulder and he’ll, um, probably need a nose job too,” Jonah spit out, grimacing at your expression.

“Marcus did all of that?”

“Yeah, he was protecting your honor. It was honestly kinda sweet. I think Mateo recorded it on his phone, if you wanna see it,” Garrett offered.

“What did Tate say about me?” you asked. Behind you, someone cleared their throat and you turned around.

He was the same Marcus you’d had a crush on for over a year, and your feelings still hadn’t changed after learning of what he did for you. If anything, it made you feel more flustered and in love.

“Marcus, I really think you should leave,” Jonah sighed.

“Jonah, shut up. Marcus, you’re staying and we’re talking about this,” you demanded.

Your expression softened when you noticed a cut on his jaw. Suddenly, you just couldn’t help yourself anymore and you threw your arms around the man, feeling his soft sweater and smelling his cheap cologne and 3 in 1 body wash.

You couldn’t help it in your still-drunk state and a tear escaped your eye, you were just so happy that Marcus wasn’t hurt badly and that you were in his arms again.

“I-I’m so glad you’re okay, Marcus,” you sniffled, pulling away hesitantly.

“You should see the other guy,” he grinned, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I think I’m in love with you and that really scares me, but I had to tell you,” you laughed, snaking your arm with his own and holding his hand.

“I’ve been in love with you since the first day you walked into the break room and Glenn introduced you to everyone,” Marcus smiled, staring into your beautiful eyes. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

“I never want to be away from you,” you breathed, leaning into his chest.

“You and me, babe. We’ll never be apart again,” he said before entangling you in the best kiss you’ve ever had, your senses filled with only Marcus, your bodies joined together.

“Is this toxic?” Jonah whispered to Garrett.

“C’mon, they’re perfect for each other. Plus, I’m tired of this will-they-won’t-they crap,” Garrett said.

“You’re right, actually,” Jonah agreed, finally able to see it.

You and Marcus both just wanted a devoted and simple love, and besides, you’d been acting like an old married couple for as long as the store could remember.

[cheyohara]

Things went in their own time. It was something that couldn't be sped up or slowed, no matter how hard one might have tried. That was both the beauty and pain of time being steady and unchanging.

From that night at the pool hall to swaying in their kitchen with arms embracing one another, Chey often had felt that every step between them had taken so much time. Then, when she realized they were barely approaching a year since they'd met, the brunette felt equally amazed and stunned at all that had transpired in just a year.

By early summer it had felt as though her entire world had fallen apart, but by the end of it this incredible man and artist had filled up her living space and made a house a home. They healed some through connection and care, not through messy and bad habits. Then the aftermath of someone else's wedding night had unraveled a night of making love.

In little more than six months they'd gone from something more carnal and purely physical to a physical act of just how much feeling they had for one another.

Looking back, Chey wouldn't change a thing.

As harrowing and painful as the loss was for herself and the man that held her heart in his hands, she'd discovered that it was a restart.

Now is the time to get things right, to do things right.

"Shining brighter than all the stars in the sky," the professor chimed in softly, hazel peered up at the man's whose arms made her feel at home. "I'm so looking forward to seeing what you create for us." It would be worn with so much love. The brunette's thoughts soon ventured to the wall they'd planned to paint a tribute to Maxime, all the more wanting to get started because that little star had been the first to breathe new life into her broken heart.

A perfectly shaped brow arched, the podcaster nearly took his words as a challenge. Chey had the ability to do many things, but could she do any of them well? Her childhood had been one of lonesomeness and exclusion, the little brunette had all the time in the world to delve into whatever interest she had. Painting had been an escape, a way to push the feelings she couldn't put words to out of her. Reading had allowed Chey to see that there were other, better worlds out there and that had given her hope. When it had come to the piano she'd picked it up a couple of years ago, always had been too timid to give a lifelong dream a shot, and now she was able to write her own music. Nothing incredibly music but she was improving over time.

Unlike Max, who seemed to make everything look so effortless. He led and supported her through example, and she couldn't have been more grateful for the way he shared with her.

"Someone who can do anything versus someone who can do anything and make it look easy and effortless..." The slight curve of her lips was more teasing and full of mirth than her attempting to debate with the tattoo artist.

"I know you won't." You never have, she nearly added but decidedly refrained from putting pressure on his shoulders despite wanting him to know that fact. "You are a treasure to me," the professor rasped in a soft whisper, hand on her stomach, "we're so lucky to have you."

At the mention of the voices he'd make when reading aloud of of her books while they were cuddled up either in bed or on the couch, she couldn't restrain the chuckle that burst out. "Yes, it's a thousand percent the voices." It was what made him him. Someone she felt so much for, to the point where she wasn't even sure how any of it could be put into words. "You always think I'm asleep when I'm just listening to my favorite sound in the world— your voice."

As it went, once the barrier had been broken and the walls had come down it was difficult for any moment to not turn to something sensual. They had much to celebrate and feel good about, but also were still in the beginning phase and honeymoon stage of their union. Once she'd known she could touch him, kiss him, and make love to him anytime she wanted there was nothing to hold her back.

Everything else but the physical need their love demanded forgotten and set aside, the collision of their mouths had morphed into a deep and passionate kiss. The lithe brunette was lifted and carried to the couch as her arms wrapped around the man she wanted all over her. When her back was against the soft cushions Chey didn't want to part from the contact and the heat between their bodies and a little whine sounded from her throat as he righted himself.

It wasn't a bad thing considering the view Max offered her in exchange as he bared his flesh to her. Hazel took in the tone and the stories ink told across his skin and the podcaster bit her bottom lip as she arched her back slightly and removed the bra that had been on display since he'd removed her shirt first. There was a preference of letting Max undress her, there was something incredibly intimate about it for the brunette, but she also liked watching his reactions as he took her in.

Once the garment was cast to the floor her hands first pushed her hair back from her face then her touch drifted down her shoulders, breasts, and torso to the waist of her worn Levi's where the artist had taken over. The feel of his warm mouth against her skin caused gooseflesh to put every nerve ending on alert and her hands moved into his thick, dark hair. A soft moan sounded from parted lips and Chey shifted her hips to aide in him getting her pants down.

Legs parted, made room for his head and shoulders as Max dipped between her thighs. "More than enough," the words husked out of her, anticipation taut in her abdomen. Lids fluttered closed over shades of brown, gold, and green when the words, "I love you," spilled from her lips. There was a need to devour every inch of the man between her legs, teasing at her wet, needy, and sensitive body but this wasn't some frenzied fuck. / @max-cortez

Neither had been looking for love atop that worn pool table. Desire had bloomed in his veins the moment he'd laid eyes on her, but every witty remark and solid sunk in between had caused that feeling to double, even triple before they'd left hand in hand to venture back to her place. Spilled laughs onto his tongue and nail marked skin had been lasting memories he'd choked down for months after.

Even more so after learning of what they'd lost.

It was never a lack of wanting her, but more so, an attempt at healing alongside her without burying feelings between the sheets or any other suitable surface beneath her quiet roof.

For months, he'd stolen glances of the woman simply existing. From scanning over papers from the college, to working on her podcast, to standing at the bathroom sink while sleep slowly evaded her... everything had made it difficult to not break.

Heart thundered against his ribcage and a boyish grin stretched on his mouth as he thought of the moment the floodgates were opened wide. What had started at a late hour in the night had welcomed the sun come morning. She'd worn his shirt around the kitchen and to no avail and exhaustion aside, he'd had atop the counter as the coffee brewed quietly in the background.

He'd never hold back again.

"Our North Star." Words were spoken barely above a whisper, lips brushing against her forehead as he lingered close. The immeasurable lost could never be replaced, but what it had taught them along the way was something the tattoo artist clutched onto almost as tightly as he held the professor in his arms.

When it came to art, every piece, no matter the size, had meaning. When he peered down at the woman beneath his dark lashes, he knew that he understood that. Art was subjective to an extent, but some pieces had a deep enough meaning that only a few could grasp it's importance. For them, it would always be stars.

Max lifted a hand from her side to trail his knuckles along her jawline. Every inch of her was chiseled perfection — art in it's purest form. Her hazels told stories and the curve of her mouth had their own tales too. "Rich coming from you," he exhaled in a barely audible rasp. She could put even the greatest writers to shame, make the best speakers seem lackluster by comparison, could challenge him with a brush, and her ability to create on keys? "It means a lot coming from the woman who just might be able to do anything."

The peppered kisses left him wanting, no, needing more. A low, playful him of need fell into the nearly nonexistent space between them. "I won't let you down." There had never been another promise he'd felt so confident in.

"Is it because I do the funny voices?" He cracked a smile in response to the image that had been painted so clearly within his mind. One where she was curled between his legs while he read from a book handpicked by the professor herself. At times, he'd read a line in a funny voice just to see if she was still awake. Most of the time, he was met with quiet hums of laughter and the warmest smile he'd ever seen.

Brows lifted and the smile he wore grew lopsided. The food had long been forgotten atop the counters and the untouched plates had too. A new kind of hunger had formed the moment she stepped into his space and the perfume tailored to her skin filled his head. Everything after had only further sealed the fate he couldn't wait to fall into. "I think I can make that happen," he nodded, voice tapering off as their mouths collided with an unforgiving need.

Hands slid over the curve of her backside, settling beneath the dip of her ass and in one pull, he'd tugged her upwards. He could have taken the short trip to the living room blindfolded. The tattoo artist moved with as much grace as his quickened pace would allow and he only broke the kiss when he felt the edge of the couch biting into his shins. Carefully, he lowered her downwards, watching with a clenched jaw as she melted into the couch he'd devoured her on too many times to count.

"Ladies first," he taunted as fingers curled into the hem of her shirt in the way she'd attempted to do with his moments earlier. Slowly, he tugged it upwards, pausing to capture her exposed stomach with a few kisses. Chest ached with the desire to dip lower, to bury himself between her thighs. Instead, he helped peel the shirt from her frame entirely, tossing it onto the floor before doing the same with his own.

What little restraint he'd possessed broke the moment he glanced down at her again to see everything he'd ever wanted. He shifted atop the couch, fingers looping beneath the waistband of her bottoms before he worked them down her thighs and onto the floor littered in clothing. "Is this showing enough?" The words had barely fallen off his tongue when he pressed the first kiss against the inside of her thigh.

@cheyohara

[gottaenjoythelittlethingzz]

Early Evening

Part 2 of the ongoing, loosely interconnected series Swellview has a New First Lady.

Summary: When Ray returns to the Man Cave after a particularly messy battle against a villain, we get to see the internal workings of Cheyanne's and Ray's flirty, romantic relationship. And Cheyanne reveals exactly how much sway she holds over Ray.

*Keep in this series can be read on AO3 & FF.*

~~~~~

Cheyanne had just finished closing up the store for the night. Another shift gone over without a hitch. The counters were wiped down, the junk was newly organized into bins and separated from any loose odds and ends, and the sign hanging on the glass entrance to Junk N’ Stuff read, ‘Sorry, we’re NOT in’. The cash register was emptied, and she carried the day’s meager profits in the elevator, counting bills as she rode down.

When she stepped into the Man Cave she noticed it vacant. This suited her well. It was nice when she could turn in for an early evening. A rare occurrence in these parts.

She was halfway to the sprocket which would lead her further into the expansive underground maze when a swooshing noise halted her footsteps. A single tube shot abruptly to the floor and a blue-and-red-suited superhero dropped in.

“Honey, I’m ho-hughhh.” Ray came tumbling out of the tube clutching his stomach and nose independently. His sarcastic comment lost behind a violent, extended wrenching noise. Since he’s so use to the tube ride it was clear his nausea was in response to the black soot smudged across him from head to toe. The gooey substance was largely crusted on and had entered ever crevice possible. It replaced his normal golden eye makeup with a smoky eye look. The smell it produced wafted across the Man Cave floor and Cheyanne smelt it herself before he approached her.

Cheyanne went to cover her own mouth and nose before smiling sardonically and using two fingers to trace a subtle path from her manicured brow to her peaked lips. She tapped them lightly when questioning, “So, how’d it go?”

“Terrible!” Ray roared. He further smudged the muck on his face and temporarily lost his balance when he could no longer see. Thankfully, he stopped with a few feet of flooring between himself and Cheyanne to correct his eye sight. “Professor Putrid had us chasing him all over down town and into the Swellview ‘Sludges and Slops’ disposal plant. I fell into a vat of tar trying to land a punch on him when he sprayed me with canned skunk spray.”

“That’s horrible.” Cheyanne made her voice sound soothing and sympathetic while simultaneously desiring to reach for a bottle of Febreze. “It should really be a more difficult place to break into. How did – hmph – how’d you catch him? I assume you did in the end.”

“You better believe we caught him!” Ray scraped at his skin with both his hands looking much like a kitten trying to cleanse itself without help until he opened one eye and then finally the other. “Henry used his super power to taunt Professor Putrid in a game of tag. Led the gross weirdo underneath a bucket of quick dry cementing mud. Done in by his own prototype. They’ll have to chisel his face free to get a clear mugshot of him.” Getting his first proper look at Cheyanne in what had been hours, Ray attempted to draw nearer to her while regaling his heroic tale. “The bucket was just dangling there. Suspended ten feet off the ground. Can you believe it?”

Cheyanne made a circular motion with her arms to raise them in question. A visual distraction as she took a sizeable step backwards at the same time. “Who would have thought?”

“You’re one to know, Chey. Anyone who would do half of something like this to the Man Mane is going to serve time.” He ran his hands over his hair trying his best to peel strands loose. The tar had plastered the locks to his scalp and refused to budge. He took another step forward. He hoped to be met with affirmation of his character. “Man, I’m going to have to do my most advanced hair care routine.” The process was designed to be grueling, employed numerous creams and gels, and was assured to undo most any damages.

“It sure is a good thing there’s a new suit in each gumball because that tar is never coming out.” Cheyanne tried to take a step forward to meet him halfway, but another wave of vile odor hit her nostrils, and she relaxed her arms by her sides. Least he think she was offering her hands. “Speaking of taking criminals to jail. Is that were Henry is now?”

An expression flitted across Ray’s face, one like he had not only forgotten his sidekick had been with him mere minutes ago, but it was as though he had forgotten the teenage apprentice existed entirely. “Yeah, yeah. Henry’s taking Professor ‘Pitiful’ to Swellview county prison. Should have dropped the mad scientist off by now.”

“What have I told you about making Henry go by himself?” Cheyanne’s voice shifts from playful to maternal.

“Henry knows where the prison is. He’s been enough times. He’s totally fine!” Ray manufactured excuses. “This was just an annoying level three villain who didn’t even have a superpower. It’s not like I asked the kid to take Arson Boy to jail by himself.”

Cheyanne shook her head with concern. Her brown eyes were always warm, deep pools of understanding but could turn stern all the same. “I don’t like Henry taking criminals to jail on his own. Some of the officers pick on him for his age. The criminals could escape from him. And besides, a crime isn’t solved until the perpetrator is put away. You should have to complete each job with him. I don’t care if Henry’s getting older and is able to handle more responsibilities. It simply isn’t fair to him that he ends up pulling more hours at work than his boss.”

Ray renewed his tactic with an equal level of enthusiasm that he carried with him down the tube. “But, what if I said I wanted to hurry home to spend more alone time with Mrs. Manchester?” His eye brows climbed his forehead. He reached for her again. This time planning to snake his arms around her curvaceous waist.

“No, no, no.” Cheyanne skipped around the couch, using the furniture as a barrier between herself and the immature man. “Not until you’ve thrown that suit out in a dumpster somewhere far, far away, and taken a long, long shower.”

“Come on,” Ray clasped his hands against the rim of the mobile amenity. He made quick crab walking steps to the left and right while verbally taunting her. “You know I like to fool around in uniform.”

“That’s fine, except we can’t actually see it underneath all that foul muck!” Cheyanne was able to expertly predict Ray’s movements. She herself was unable to bite back the adoring smile from creeping onto her face.

He pointed an accusing finger her way. “Don’t act like you don’t like it just a little bit when I come back sweaty and grimy from an epic battle. You know you’re the only person I can temporarily share my ability with, huh?” Ray’s face was completely overtaken by his perfect teeth shining through his victorious grin. He could easily be swayed by his own words even when they didn’t work on anyone else around him. “It’s kind of our ‘thing’, right?”

Cheyanne gasped playfully and brought a hand up to her chest, bracelets shifting noisily to follow the path through the air her arm created, suggesting she was offended by his lewd suggestion. “There’s a lot more going on with you than natural bodily fluids, okay?”

Before she could condemn him further Ray sprang into action. He catapulted his legs over the couch, slide across the table, and landed with his feet on the cushioned seat directly in front of Cheyanne. She was startled by his boisterous movements and leapt backwards straight into the monitors’ chair. She was able to narrowly dodge his sweeping arms.

“Ulch,” Ray complained. He collapsed against the backrest. His head and arms drooping over the edge. “You’re really not going to jump on this opportunity while there are no crimes in progress, and no one is down here to bug us?”

Cheyanne cocked her head and calmly stood from the seat. She spun it in her hands and walked behind the object to place it between them. “Maybe I will reconsider…” She tapped her nails rhythmically to call his eyes onto her. “But first you must get rid of that old suit. And you have to shower - twice.”

Ray smirked at the images his idea called to mind. “Or maybe you could join me in the –.”

“Shower twice!” In a flash, his face morphed with disgruntlement. Flopping dramatically onto his back and sliding off the couch feet first, he began begrudgingly heading towards the stairs. His feet stomping. He might have mumbled something under his breath.

“And darling,” Cheyanne called to his retreating form.

Ray stopped to look over his shoulder. Hope swelled upon hearing his pet name used.

“Put on one of the shirts I like.”

Ray rotated his shoulders to face her, his expression suddenly befuddled. “You mean, don’t put on one of the many loud button up shirts I wear?”

Cheyanne clicked her tongue and nodded assertively.

He brought his hands up to his chest where he tapped his fists together. “Th-the blue one or the purple one?”

Cheyanne gave him a once over before replying with a curt, “Surprise me.”

“And then, maybe…” his voice trailed. The back of his neck warm to the touch.

“I can be persuaded.”

With an emphatic nod, Ray stated, “I can do that.” He promptly headed towards the shower. A new sense of urgency in his steps.

~~~~

No edit this time, but maybe in the future. Feel free to let me know what you think of this couple so far!

[koala-otter]

park ranger zukka au

this idea comes from the lovely @s-sokka from the zukka discord!! 

features zuko as a park ranger, sokka as a pro-biker (it’s so late, I wrote so much, please excuse this summary)

2.7k words (remember when I said 1k max?? hahahaha)

Zuko had finally reached week three of his tenure as a summer ranger. Only seven more weeks, and he would finally be able to leave behind the Hei Bai Nature Reserve and all of its crazy nature lovers. When his uncle Iroh practically forced him to take the position—explaining that if Zuko refused to work at the tea shop for the summer, he still had to work somewhere, and better yet if he could do it immersed in the meditative balm that was the outdoors—Zuko thought the worst he could encounter was the humming mosquitoes, and maybe the occasional murder hornet. But he was wrong. It was the people. 

There were the little kids who dropped their snack wrappers in the parking lot, and their parents who covered them in noxious insect repellants, and the teenagers who carved their initials into trees. But those weren’t even so bad, because after patiently explaining the downsides of littering, the park’s tiny visitors usually nodded solemnly and picked up their trash, and the fumes of such sprays usually dissipated quickly, and when they had the rules explained to them, the teenagers usually had the decency to be apologetic. 

The worst, by far, was a young man named Sokka. Zuko had seen him plenty of times before, visiting the park with his friends, back before Zuko had known his name. Sokka usually hung out with a young, bald man with tattoos, and two young women, one whose resemblance to Sokka revealed her to likely be his sister, and another one who berated him while holding his hand tightly as they entered the trail. Zuko had thought nothing of him at first as he seemed like just another avid hiker, but all that had changed on his fourth day as a ranger, when he had seen Sokka for the first time on his own. 

Zuko was doing his ranger thing, checking on the different trails in the couple of hours before the park’s closing, when a blue blur sped past him on a mountain bike. Zuko stared after the figure for a few seconds before coming to his senses and chasing after him. 

“Hey! You can’t ride that thing here!” 

The bike stopped ahead of him, and the figure hopped off and took off its helmet to reveal a wolftail and two bright blue eyes looking directly back at him. Zuko tried to ignore the heat building in his face as he finally got to see Sokka’s perfect features and defined muscles up close. 

“Hey, sorry, man, but the terrain’s just perfect for my practice,” Sokka explained, tossing his helmet on the handlebars.

“There are bike paths for a reason,” Zuko said coolly. He reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a pad of paper. “I have to issue you a warning.”

“What?” Sokka said, pulling on his handlebars. “I’ll just go.”

Zuko exhaled in frustration as he scribbled on the pad. “It’s just policy, okay? I don’t want to do it, but I have to. What’s your name?”

At this question, a smug grin filled Sokka’s lips, and he shrugged. “The name’s Sokka,” he said. He waited expectantly for Zuko’s reaction.

Zuko stared at Sokka staring at him. “Okay.” He glanced down at the paper in his hands as he wrote it out, and then looked up to find Sokka still grinning at him expectantly. “Uh, sorry, was I supposed to know that?” He watched as Sokka’s face fell. “Do you work here, too, or something?” he asked in a panic. “Look, it’s only my first week, and I—”

“It’s not that, it’s just—” Sokka sighed and looked up at him despondently. Zuko thought there might even have been a tear in his right eye. “Do you really not know who I am?”

“I—no? Are you famous or something?”

“The pro-biker! Sokka! I won the Omashu tour!”

Zuko turned sheepish as he ripped the paper out of the pad and held it out to Sokka. “Oh, um, sorry. I don’t really follow sports.”

Sokka turned even sadder as he took the paper from Zuko. “That’s okay...Zuko?” he asked, reading his name off of the paper.

Zuko nodded, feeling vaguely regretful for some reason.  Sokka smiled sadly back at him.

“Maybe to make it up to me, though,” Sokka said, waving the warning in the air. “We could forget about all of this?” 

“What?” Zuko asked.

“You know, you could take back the warning,” Sokka continued, starting to hand it back to Zuko. “This never happened, that kind of thing.” He gave Zuko a hopeful grin.

Zuko’s expression hardened, now angry at the thought that he might have been duped. “No!” he barked. 

“Well, fine!” Sokka said, putting on his helmet and pulling his bike toward him by the handlebars again. “I’ll just go then.”

“Yeah, do that,” Zuko replied hotly. He watched as Sokka started to rise onto his bike, and stepped forward to block the path. He pointed to the sign nearby on the trail that read, “Leave only footprints. Take only pictures.” 

“And off the bike,” Zuko almost growled. 

“Fine, jeez,” Sokka said, hopping off once more. He began walking down the path in the opposite direction, away from Zuko, and stuck his tongue out at him. 

As Sokka pushed his bike away, and Zuko continued down the trail, he thought he might never see the other man again in his life. He sighed at the tire tracks in the wet earth of the trail. Never having to deal with them again left him greatly relieved. But, he had to admit, the sight of Sokka’s sad, blue eyes had left a series of knots in his stomach that would take a while to untangle. 

Then the next day came, and the appearance of Sokka nonchalantly fishing off the boat launch quickly proved Zuko wrong. As did every day afterward, as Sokka made appearance after appearance at the park, breaking nearly every rule there was in the park ranger handbook. Zuko turned corners on trails to find Sokka hand-feeding squirrels—“Snack for you, too, jerk?” Sokka would ask, while Zuko would point to another sign instructing hikers not to feed wildlife—or sat in the booth checking in visitors only to suddenly spy Sokka walking toward him with bunches of wildflowers in his hand—“For you, Zuko, even though you wanted to get me in trouble,” said Sokka, brandishing the bouquet in front of him, and Zuko answered, “You’re not supposed to pick the flowers, Sokka, just look at them,” and then took them and put them in a vase because he wasn’t about to waste them—and the number of warnings Zuko had had to issue Sokka in just a week and a half was unprecedented. 

“Is there a limit to these? I mean, is there a point where he gets kicked out?” Zuko had to ask Jeong Jeong, his supervisor, in the middle of his second week.

“I don’t know,” Jeong Jeong replied, in awe at the number of carbon copies of warnings Zuko had dropped on his desk. “We have never had to issue more than one to any individual visitor.” He picked up one for attempted overnight camping without a permit. “Have you spoken to him about the negative consequences of his actions?”

“Of course I talked to him,” Zuko replied loudly, clearly offended.

“Then try talking to him again!” Jeong Jeong practically roared.

Zuko started hiding the warnings.

But Zuko did talk to Sokka, and often. The time Sokka came to the trail with a lemur on his shoulder, and Zuko insisted the animal had to be on a leash to go on the trail—“He’s not a pet, he’s my friend, and he wants to take a walk!” Sokka replied indignantly—they settled for sitting in the booth and tossing nuts in the air for Momo to catch. Sokka almost got away without a warning that day, but when he laughed at Momo’s flying leap for a macadamia and said, “Hey, he likes them even more than the squirrels do,” Zuko had to write another one out. From the smile on Sokka’s face, though, it looked like he understood it as a joke.

Now he was on week three, though, and Zuko had a brand-new pen and pad for warnings, and the tire tracks on the trail had finally been washed away with a passing storm. He felt he could take anything Sokka threw at him this week, maybe even without shaky hands and the feeling that his heart was jumping into his throat each time he approached the other man.

Static sounded from Zuko’s walkie-talkie, and Zuko brought it to his good ear in time to hear someone on the other end.

“Hey, uh, I got a kid who fell out of a tree over here somewhere,” the ranger on the trail said haltingly.

Zuko pressed the transmit button and brought the walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Copy, this is Zuko from the central booth. What trail? Over.”

“Oh, hey, Zuko! It’s me, Chey,” came the response.

Zuko sighed before pressing the button again. “Chey, about the guy who fell out of the tree: what trail? Do we need an ambulance? Over.” 

There was a long line of static before Chey’s voice came back. “I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “I mean, the guy said no, and he looks pretty all right to me. He’s asking for you to come get him.” The static returned once more before clearing abruptly. “Oh, and he says his name is Sokka. Do you two know each other?”

Zuko set down the walkie-talkie and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Copy,” he finally said when he picked the walkie-talkie back up, “I’ll go for him, and you come back and man the booth. And Chey?” 

“Yeah?”

“For the last time, what trail?”

Zuko found himself running down the Panda Lily trail, the first aid kit bouncing at his side as he nearly tripped over the laces of his hiking boots and barely avoided the mud puddles that threatened to suck him in. He passed so many trees, from rhododendron trees to birches and redwoods and everything in between, but none of them had dropped Sokka from their branches, so Zuko kept going. He reached a fork in the trail and stopped abruptly at the tree between the diverting roads, and scanned it for any signs. There were none. He stepped back. 

“Sokka?” he yelled, his voice hoarse as he cupped his mouth with his hands. “Sokka, where are you?”

A beat passed, and then, from far away, he heard, “Zuko!”

Zuko took off down the road on the right, and finally, he spotted Sokka in the distance, leaning against the trunk of a banyan tree. His right leg was bent, and he leaned on it with his elbow, but the other was out in front of him at an odd angle, seemingly useless. He greeted Zuko with a strained grin.

“My knight in shining armor,” said Sokka.

“Ugh, I definitely should have called an ambulance,” Zuko replied. He knelt down gingerly next to Sokka and laid out the first aid kit. 

“Nah,” Sokka said with a shrug, his hand out in a dismissive gesture, “this is nothing.”

Zuko stared at Sokka with a rigid expression on his face, his mouth a tight line.

“Really!” Sokka insisted. “It’s just a sprain. I hurt it a couple months ago, and I’ve been recovering, but I aggravated it.”

“So that’s how you have you all this time to bother me,” Zuko said, gingerly pulling Sokka’s leg straight in front of him. “You’ve been recovering.”

“Well,” Sokka said sheepishly, “I technically do still have practices I should be going to. But it’s more fun to come here and see you.”

Zuko looked up at him sharply, his cheeks flushed, and accidentally jostled Sokka’s leg. Sokka hissed sharply, and Zuko blanched and moved quickly to grab the first aid kit.

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

“S’okay,” Sokka replied, watching his hands unravel a bandage. “It’s my fault for getting hurt in the first place.”

Zuko laughed, low and a little husky. “Yeah, it kind of is.” 

He wrapped the bandage around Sokka’s knee tightly, watching his expression for more pain. Sokka stayed relatively placid, only wincing once, and his mouth usually quirked up in a crooked smile. 

“Why would you climb a tree?” Zuko asked after a while. “That’s like rule number three on the trailhead sign.”

“What can I say?” Sokka said cavalierly. “I’m a rebel.”

Zuko let out a quick, disbelieving laugh. “Right.”

“Hey, you said it yourself! I break all the rules.”

“Yeah,” Zuko said, pinning the bandage in place, “and it’d be great if you stopped. Even my boss has no idea what to do with all of the warnings I’ve been giving you.”

Sokka considered him for a moment. “I’ll stop if you agree to go out with me,” he finally said. 

Zuko dropped a hand to the leaf-littered ground to keep himself from falling over. “What?”

“The tree-climbing? The rule-breaking? I’ve been trying to get your attention this whole time,” Sokka said with a widening grin. 

“My attention?” Zuko asked. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I like you,” Sokka replied matter-of-factly.

Zuko shook his head. “But what about the bike thing?” he almost demanded. “You couldn’t have liked me then.”

Sokka tilted his head thoughtfully, bringing one of his hands up to brush his chin. “I will admit,” he said, “although I thought you were attractive, I didn’t like you during the bike thing. But I grew to like you over time.” 

“Over time?” Zuko repeated, crossing his arms.

“C’mon,” Sokka said, poking him on the arm. “Don’t you like me, too?”

Zuko dropped his arms and looked back at the muddy trail. “Yeah, I do.”

Sokka smiled at him hopefully, “So go out with me?” 

Zuko looked back at him, now smiling lightly. “Or else?”

“Or else I’m going to keep climbing the trees.”

“And?”

“Fishing off the boat launch.”

Zuko sighed. “And I can’t trust you to stop there, can I?”

Sokka grinned. “The squirrels aren’t going to feed themselves.”

“Actually, they are, that’s why—” Zuko stopped and sighed. “Okay, yes, I’ll go out with you.”

“Really?” Sokka practically squealed. 

“Yeah,” Zuko said, smiling back at him.

Sokka practically lunged toward Zuko, reaching for his face, but managed to jam his leg into Zuko’s all over again. All at once, his eyes shot wide open, and his head fell back, and Zuko had to catch his arm to keep him from falling over, a low moan of pain twisting from his mouth.

“Sokka!”

“Yep, definitely just a sprain,” Sokka said once he had come back around. He gritted his teeth. “Barely hurts at all.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “We need to get you to the booth,” he said, reaching for Sokka’s other hand as he pulled his arm over his shoulders to help him up. 

“But you promised you’d go out with me,” Sokka whined.

A small smile brightened Zuko’s face, and a new joy glowed from his eyes. “Yeah, I will,” he said, and before Sokka could make some smart-aleck reply, Zuko leaned toward him, tilting his head slightly at the odd angle from being side-by-side, and kissed Sokka. Even with his injured leg, Sokka came to life beneath him, raising his free hand to cup Zuko’s jaw and brush back the hair falling into his face with his fingers. Birds sang from the tree canopy above them, the leaves shuffled quietly in the shifting wind, and the warmth of dappled sunlight fell across their entangled bodies. If Zuko had not been bearing half the weight of a very heavy and very injured young man, it might have been a perfect kiss. Or maybe that was what made it one.

“All right,” Zuko said when they finally pulled apart. “We should really go.”

“Where are we going again?” Sokka asked, now dazed.

“To the booth.” Zuko helped Sokka hop along beside him. 

Sokka nodded, trying desperately to keep his weight on his uninjured leg. “And then we can go out?”

Zuko smiled, and looked further down the trail. “Yeah, then we can go out.”

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

Arabella simply headed for the door with a smile, waiting out on the street for the woman to lock up. She let out a little giggle, cheeks flushed at the chai tease, before watching her slender fingers give her cardigan a little tug.

"Oh, do you want one? I could totally make you one, you'd just need to pick what colour you wanted!" The blonde insisted, with a smile, starting to walk beside her, a little pep in her step at the thought, before she glanced down at herself for a moment, almost like she was remembering what she was wearing.

"I didn't make the dress but I did stitch all the flowers on it," she pointed to a few of them as they walked, fingers tracing over one of the delicate flowers before she continued. "But I did make the cardigan and my headband!" Arabella's eyes shone excitedly, almost like a kid bragging to a parent about something that happened at school, her smile wide and eager. She loved talking about things she'd made and was so honoured that Chey wanted to know.

cheyenne twisted one end of the silk tie around her finger as she watched arabella, eyes flitting down to the hands messing with her cardigan. if anyone would look lovely wearing nothing but the thin silk binding her hands behind her back, it would be arabella. but she had to shake her mind of thoughts like that - this innocent woman was her friend, as much as she liked to tease her. she doubted it would ever escalate into something like that, despite how often she thought about it.

a small hum left cheyenne's lips before she nodded. "let me grab my bag and i'll follow you out." grabbing her store keys and tossing the black purse over her left shoulder in one fluid movement, the owner walked closely behind arabella to the entrance and locked up behind her. "i can't believe you've tried their chai without me," chey teased, tossing the keys into the abyss of her bag, "and i also can't believe i don't have one of these yet." she lightly tugged on the sleeve of arabella's cardigan. "what parts of this outfit did you make? if you say all of it, i wouldn't be surprised."

[hewwocopter]

Bros. Here’s a little taste of what I write when I’m not writing fanfiction, but rather my own original works. I wrote this at the end of 2019, so my writing is bound to be different than it is now, but I think you guys will get a kick out of it!

Also, all my two brain cells are spent on writing fanfiction.

Two McFricking Idiots

Sam and Cheyenne go to the mall.

Sam was bored.

Scratch that, he was extremely bored. Sam isn’t sure that he’s ever felt this bored before, but hey, there’s a first time for everything.

Like that one time he nailed Chicky in the face with a pie? Sure she nearly beat the crap out of him but it was totally worth her reaction. He’d pay to see her get hit in the face again.

Preferably with him ten miles away when that happens of course...

Sam groaned and flopped onto his back, staring up at the sky. He was in a park under a tree, laying in the grass. Cheyenne was sitting next to him staring into space (he could tell she was just as bored as he was). It was mostly void of people as it was too hot for anyone to spend their spare time sweating all over the grass.

Unless they were total idiots.

Which that description fit Sam and Chey perfectly.

Which was why they were here.

Actually, the main reason they were starting to form into puddles of fur and flesh was because Chicky had kicked them out of the house. Apparently, she couldn’t handle a little prank! Who cares if the house was on fire, they could just get another!

Chey looked over at him. “First time?”

“If you don’t stop making meme references I will be forced to skin you alive.”

The cat stopped and stared at him. “But you love meme references, man.”

Sam groaned. “Not if it’s a hundred degree weather and I’m too hot to care about anything right now!” He threw his arms up in the air and let them fall to the ground in defeat. “There’s gotta be something we can do about this.”

”Well, we can either take our fur off which would be incredibly painful, or we can go back to the h-e-double-hockey-sticks which is our house. Which is in flames right now.” She stopped and flicked her ear up. “I can still hear the sirens from the fire trucks, actually.”

Sam snorted. “And my mixtape.”

Chey let out a laugh. “Heyyy! There we go! You’re getting back into the meme spirit already! Although that meme has been dead for like, a year man.”

“Nyehhh. I’m too hot to care.” Sam rolled back onto his stomach, muffling his words into the grass.

There wasn’t much to say after that, so the two sat in silence. An occasional breeze blew into their sweat matted fur, which was blissful for Sam.

After a few minutes, Sam shot straight back up, startling Chey.

“We have to do something!”

“You said that five minutes ago.”

“This time it’s for real. I’m getting sick and tired of this heat,” He stood up, legs tingly from sitting down for so long. “I’m going to get some daggone AC.”

Chey hummed, as though entertaining his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound too bad, actually... where would we go, though?”

Sam smiled, looking down at her. “The store. They’ve got some ice cream and stuff there, duh.”

“That’s a fantastic idea and all, but weren’t we banned from all stores within a twenty mile radius of our house?”

“...”

“...”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about....”

A deadpan look. “You were going around the fish section at the grocery, dumping out the fish tanks yelling ‘BE FREE, MY FISH CHILDREN! BE FREE!’”

“I was releasing them from their captivity! And you’re not so innocent either! You were there with me, helping me dump out the tanks!”

“Hey! I’m not about to deny a free snack when I see one!”

“...Fair.”

Chey huffed. “Aight. Good thing we came to an agreement.”

“...Uh huh.”

More silence.

“Remember that one time at Taco Bell where we harassed the employees?”

“Wait, which time? There was that one where you pelted a jerk with Mild Sauce packets and the other where you flipped over three tables before you had to be forcibly removed from the premises.”

Sam piped in. “Hey- don’t forget about when you made their soda fountain explode!”

“Ahh, good times, good times.”

“Yyyyep.”

For what seemed like horrible pacing and a long time, they sat there reminiscing about their shenanigans.

“Wanna go to the mall?”

“Frick yeah.”

—

The two preteens (although they very much did not look like preteens) walked down the tile floor of the mall through the crowd of people. Some looked down and recognized them from their previous... adventures, wisely stepping out of their way.

Pff. Weenies.

There was a wide variety of smells, some varying from delicious foods to even MORE delicious foods. It made Cheyenne’s mouth water. Maybe they could go to the pretzel stand at some point...

They were walking past the generic toy shop when Sam stopped abruptly. “Here!”

Chey looked up at the store, then peered inside of it. There were children bounding around from one display to another, begging their parents to get one.

“Here?”

“I can feel it. There is something in there... it’s... it’s drawing me towards it.”

“You said that at Taco Bell when you snuck into their kitchen and ate their entire supply of nacho fries… which you remember how well that ended, but let’s go anyway.”

“Heck yeah.”

Without further ado, they stepped inside.

Some of the parents took one look at them and dropped the toy they were holding, picked up their child,, and left. One of them even hoisted their daughter over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She hadn’t even paid for the doll that the kid was holding.

Well, that was somewhat uncalled for. They hadn’t even done anything yet!

“Sam, what did you say about...?” She trailed off when she saw that the anthropomorphic boy was gone.

She looked around the store, seeing a brunette robot- lady- whatever she was, holding a nerf machine gun. When the lady turned, she was holding the item with a malicious grin as well as a glint in her eyes. Chey stepped back, opting to look for Sam.

“Oh. My. God.”

“Sam?”

“CHEY LOOK I FOUND HIM!”

“Him?” Chey frowned as she rounded the display with a yellow mouse wearing sunglasses and holding a machine gun on it. Behind it, Sam was hugging a box in his arms.

“Wassat?”

“Our child.”

“...What.”

“Hear me out, Chey.”

“You have a few seconds to explain to me why you’re hugging a water gun, before we get kicked out of the store.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Chey could see the store cashier nervously hiding behind the counter, presumably calling for security. They hadn’t. Even. Done anything yet! Give them a break!!

“This... this is no water gun, Chey. He’s special. I can feel it.”

“You’re hugging the box, so, yeah, I guess you can feel it...”

“Nonono! I can FEEL. IT. This water gun- he’s destined for greatness! And that’s with us!”

Chey could hear the footsteps of the security guards coming their way. “Sam...”

“C’mon, Chey! Pleeeease?”

One look into those puppy dog eyes- those dang eyes- had Chey caving in. “Fine, man! Let’s pay for it and get the heck outta here.”

At that moment, the guards stepped into the store. Parents and their kids were looking around confusedly, until their eyes laid on the sight that was Chey and Sam. Another mother picked up her son, hauled him over her shoulders like sandbags, and booked it out of there.

Goodness.

Sam was already on it, though. He jumped and grabbed Chey with his tail, dragging her towards the entrance. She barely had time to throw the money at the cashier, who was cowering behind the counter.

They were met with resistance of course, but Sam was prepared. Somehow the water gun had made it out of the box, and Sam whacked the guard in the face with it.

“VIBE CHECK!”

Another smack, the guard letting out curses as Sam cackled wildly. He let go of Chey and they bolted into the main area of the mall. People were scattering as soon as they saw the two hellions make their way towards the foot court.

One of the guards behind them yelled out. “Oi! Get back-! You’re not supposed to be here!”

Sam, being the entity of chaos he was, ignored the men and went straight for the tables. Chey resisted the urge to groan as he slid under them, knocking them over (while people were still eating at them no less) in an effort to... well, Chey had no idea what he was doing, actually.

Chey shook her head as she sidestepped fallen chairs and the mess of food that littered the floor. Sam was up ahead of her, crashing into more tables and chairs.

The normal noisy chatter of the food court soon became loud yelling and screaming as the customers tried to avoid the onslaught of the entity that was Sam. There was no escape, however. Chey had learned that the hard way.

“SAM!”

Somehow, somehow- Sam had spawned a sock in his hand. He held the water gun in the other, while spinning the sock in circles uncontrollably. There was something at the end of it, and oh g-

More tables went down as the sock knocked them over. It hit people too, socking some in the stomach as they fell down in defeat. The boy(?) left a trail of fallen tables and people behind him as he continued his escape.

Chicky was going to murder them...

Although, this scenario has happened many times before. Why would it be any different this time? Eh, they’d live.

...Hopefully.

[warren-lauren]

Taylor!Daughter x Ben Hardy part 7

Roger and Sarina babysit their grandson whilst the reader and Ben are on their honeymoon.

FYI - no, they’re not spelling mistakes when it’s Roger’s grandson talking!

Roger groaned tiredly as he rolled over in bed, the sound of his grandson running down the hallway and shouting, waking him a lot quicker than he was used to. Before he had time to sit up, Buddy had jumped up onto his bed and tackled him in a big hug (or as big of a hug a 3-year-old can) as he giggled.

“Morning, mate,” Roger chuckled as he held his grandson so he didn’t fall. “What’s got you so full of beans?”

Buddy sat up with a confused look. “I’m no’ full of beans.”

Roger shook his head with a chuckle. “It doesn’t matter, love. So, why are you excited?”

“Nanina made bancakes! Come on!”

Sarina walked into find her grandson running circles around Roger, jumping up and down on the bed excited, making her grin. “Alright, Bud, let Grandpa get up before you start tiring him out.” She made grabby hands for him to jump into her arms from the bed.

Buddy jumped into Sarina’s hands giggling, “Okay. Hurry up, Grandba. Or I’ll ask Grandba Bri cho cheach me.” He grinned cheekily at Roger as Sarina began to leave, laughing at her grandson’s cheekiness. Just like, Roger.

Roger was thrilled to be looking after his grandson whilst you and Ben were on your honeymoon. He loved spending time with his grandson, it filled him with so much light and love to be around the cheeky little boy. He reminded Roger so much of himself, and you at that age.

“Where is he?” Roger asked as he walked into the kitchen once he was dressed for the day.

“You’ll see.” Sarina smiled to herself as she plated breakfast up.

Roger frowned as he sat at the table, confused by his wife’s behavior.

“Grandba?” Buddy called out as he walked into the kitchen, clutching a pile of picture frames in his arms as he walked towards Roger.

Roger raised his eyebrow, “What have you got there, Bud?” He reached down and took the picture frames from his grandson’s arms.

“Nanina said ‘ha’s mummy.” He asked his grandad, pointing at a picture of you when you were about thirteen.

You were in your school uniform, stood with Roger’s arm around your shoulders and your mum, grinning at the camera as you held up an award for playing the piano.

Roger nodded before he bent down and picked his grandson up, putting him on his knee. “Bu’, she don’ look like mummy.”

Roger chuckled, “No mate, she doesn’t, but it is.” He smiled. He picked the picture up, remember how proud he was of you, and how happy you were. “Your mum was very good at playing the piano, you know why?” Buddy shook his head quietly as he stared up at Roger. “She wanted to be just like her Uncle Fred.” Roger grinned.

Buddy’s eyes widened and then he threw his arm out towards the backgarden. “'HA’ Unle Fred?” He asked, pointing towards the statue.

Roger nodded, “That one.”

“WOW!” Buddy reached forwards and grabbed another picture frame. “Wha’ abou’ 'is one? Nanina says that mummy and Unle Rusus.” He held the picture up in front of him. “Where his hair?”

Roger laughed, taking the picture from him and nodding. “Well, this was before he grew his beard.”

“Hmm,” Buddy nodded with a slight frown. “Wha’ abou’ 'is one?” He pointed to another one of you.

Roger let out a small sigh as he put the other picture down and grabbed that one. You were a lityle younger in that one. “This is an important picture, Bud. Your mum loves me soooooo much, she didn’t want to be away from me whilst your Grandpa Brian and I went on tour so, that year, she came on tour with us.” He smiled down at his grandson.

Buddy’s eyes widened. “Can I come with you?”

Roger nodded laughing, “Ask your mum, first.”

Buddy nodded before he pointed to another picture of you and Tiger-Lily when you were little. “Will me and new baby look like each ocher, Grandba?”

Roger smiled, “You will a little.”

Buddy sighed a little, his small brow knitting together as he thought about something. “Am I being reblaced?” Buddy looked up to Roger with big blue eyes.

Roger frowned, “Why would you think that, little man?”

Buddy pouted, looking even more like Roger. “Mummy and daddy say, ich migh be… wins, and wins means a coby of new baby. Why need a coby of new baby, when chey have me?” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest dramatically. Definitely gets that from Roger.

Roger quickly desiphered  what his grandson had just said to him with a soft smile as he pulled him closer to him. “Bud, you’re not being replaced, okay? The new baby might possibly be two babies, which is called twins. That’s what you’re mum and Auntie Tigs are, twins. So, you could be the big brother to not only one, new baby, but two.” Roger smiled, although the idea of two more grandchildren terrified him.

“Oh,” Buddy nodded, “Is ich good?”

Roger nodded. “Oh, yeah, you’ll be able to boss them about all you want.” He chuckled, “If there were three of 'em, you’d be able to be the lead singer of the band.” He tickled his grandson’s belly making him squeal with laughter.

“Sop, Grandba, sop!” Buddy tried to push it Roger’s hands away as he giggled. “I’m gonna’ be a drummer… or guichar!” He giggled loudly.

Roger rolled his eyes, “Bloody Brian’s got to you, hasn’t he.” He continued to tickle Buddy, making him louder and louder.

———-

You and Ben sat on the beach with the sun blaring down on you as you watched the video of your dad and son together, laughing along with them thanks to Sarina’s sneaky recording skills.

“See, love, told you he’d be fine. No need to worry about him.” Ben smiled at you as he lifted your left hand and kissed your knuckles, your wedding band warm against his lips.

You smiled back, “I wasn’t worried about, Buddy, love.” You giggled. “My dad’s not exactly a spring chicken anymore, is he?”

Ben shook his head with a small laugh. “No, I guess not.”

You bit your lip as you looked back at your phone. “I can’t wait to go home.”

Ben nodded, “Me neither, babe. But let’s enjoy this time with just us two… Well, us two and however many are in there.” He pointed with a soft chuckle to your mostly flat stomach.

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up, would ya.”

He grinned cheekily as he leaned forwards to you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “You love me really, Mrs Hardy.”

You nodded with a soft sigh. “I guess I do.”

[saejinws]

let’s get it! it’s chey ( she/her ), bringing you wishbone’s act #2, paksae. he’s an indie artist with heavy influence from the bedroom pop & chillwave micro-genres, as you can gather from his three official singles at the moment: cassette, karma & late night movie. if discord is more convenient for you, you can add me there ( stream do or not#1490 ), but otherwise, i’m usually reachable in ims! here are saejin’s links : career / stats / plots / pinterest, and hopefully all the other information you need will be found below.

the story.

saejin was lucky enough to be born into a relatively happy family, albeit a small one. both parents are only children, so he didn’t have aunts, uncles or cousins, and only his maternal grandparents were heavily involved with the family, but it was alright! lower middle class, mom who made him watch bird documentaries, dad who had a face made out of stone, but there was still a lot of love. it was nice.

the first big change happened when his little sister ( saebyeol ) was born. her existence put a tragic end to his legacy as the park family’s number one baby, considering she’s a whole eight years younger than him.

in the next year, his mom was diagnosed with a chronic illness; one that would see her rapidly going in and out of hospitals for years to come, so the days of naïve happiness were over for saejin. from that point on, it was about “cherishing every moment” and “living life to the fullest” and “not wasting breath on things that can’t be changed”.

aka his mom’s circumstances meant that he was constantly getting scolded by doctors, rns, family friends, his dad, whoever for displaying negative emotions. was shut down a lot, told that he was being a hassle and that he needed to make things easier for his mom. learned to suppress his emotions unless they were positive.

but while most adults in his life were trying to teach him how to be realistic and approach life with an understanding that nothing is easy, his mom worked hard to do the exact opposite. constantly pushed him to chase his dreams because life is so short, and when he decided that he was going to pursue music, she was the first person to tell him to go for it and give it his all.

got his first guitar at age 14, which is when he started writing his own songs and messing around with editing software, but it wasn’t until 2015 that he started playing his music for people. started in coffee shops ( at this point, his songs were entirely acoustic ), then started playing in clubs in hongdae, which is when he started experimenting with his sound. struggled to gain attention. can’t think of what it’s called rn, but there’s a set amount of tickets that opening acts have to sell to earn their spot in a lineup; saejin’s parents and close friends usually bought a tonnn to help him out because strangers wouldn’t give him the time of day. a nobody. hung out after his sets to meet people, but nobody wanted to meet him. pain.

popularity steadily grew over time, and by late 2019, he was in talks with wishbone records. by the new year, he was a signed artist.

assumed that having a record deal guaranteed International Stardom, so you can imagine his surprise when his first music video hardly gained 5k views in the entire debut week... it was an eye-opening experience for him. realized that the grind was, in fact, not over yet. 

his popularity is on a steady incline, but he still isn’t anywhere close to being a household name. very lowkey. he pretends that he doesn’t care, but it eats away at him. spends most of his time in his studio nowadays, trying to create a song that will pull him into the charts. becoming more distant from his parents because he’s so caught up in work, so that’ll probably come back around to bite him in the ass eventually but yk... oh well.

saebyeol is the only family member whom he couldn’t distance himself from if she tried because she’s a parasite. always at his apartment or blowing up his phone, which drives him absolutely crazy because her favorite pastime is ruthlessly bullying him. she’s a little demon.

the character.

park saejin, aka PAKSAE. ‘97. seoulite. soloist.

social introvert. he prefers to spend time alone and usually doesn’t seek company, but if he’s approached first, he’s a relatively open book. forms bonds quickly.

gets unreasonably attached to his friends in short periods of time, so he tries to keep his circle small. he can only deal with wondering why three people aren’t texting him back in a single day: any more than that and he spirals.

pretty optimistic view of life, i think. could’ve become jaded due to his mom’s situation, but she’s made huge efforts to keep his worries minimal and be the best role model she can be in her circumstances. has tried to instill a “life is short, so embrace every moment with open arms” mentality in both of her kids, which saejin picked up on a whole lot more than his little sister has. you probably wouldn’t assume this by listening to his Pity Party Songs ( as saebyeol puts it ), but he’s a happy guy!

on the topic of his pity party songs, all three of his singles so far are a bit sad/melancholic, detailing looking back on the ending of something. he rarely expresses sadness or regret in his day-to-day life, but he considers music to be an outlet. the one place he can be as real as he wants without being criticized. ( that’s what he thought before, anyway. nowadays, he’s constantly getting comments about how nobody wants to listen to him cry about his breakups. fair enough. )

his appearance contradicts his personality. on the outside, he seems like a very loud, expressive person: vibrant colors, unusual materials ( silk chiffon, organza, velvet, etc ), lots of accessories such as gaudy rings, y2k-style beaded necklaces & polymer clay earrings that he probably buys from etsy. but he’s really, really chill & soft-spoken, tries to blend in even though it’s... impossible when he looks the way that he does.

gets most of his social interaction through the sporadic gigs that he plays. on stage, he’s highly expressive and interactive with his fans. when i think of his stage presence, i think of artists like lauv & troye sivan: he utilizes all of his stage space, even when performing more mellow songs. doesn’t want to just stand around and bore his audience. but nowadays, he rarely waits around to meet people because he’s become even more introverted than he was before. in his day-to-day life, there are only about three people whom he contacts frequently and always shows up for. otherwise, his connections are situational: associates the people in his life with certain places, things or activities and rarely meets up with them outside those situations. prefers to communicate through texts or social media messages if he can, but even then, if you aren’t one of his three closest friends, it’s difficult to reach him unless he needs or wants something.

but even tho he’s SUCH a loner... he’s what i like to call a serial romantic. not on a dating ban and also not that popular anyway, so he goes on a lot of dates. blind dates, tinder dates, whatever. texting his friends like “i think i’m in love” twice a month but he’s never talking about the same person. wears a heart-shaped rose quartz pendant to try to manifest meeting his soulmate but he doesn’t want to be clowned for believing in the power of crystals/stones ( or for being so obsessed with love even though it’s OBVIOUS if you listen to his music ) so he says he just wears it ‘cause it’s nice to look at. 

his stage name, 박새, is a type of bird. it’s usually stylized as paksae, so most people don’t question it much, but eventually his intl fanbase got curious about what it means and popped the hangul into a translator: lo and behold, he’s now “affectionately” referred to by fans in english-speaking regions as tit. it isn’t saebyeol’s fault but he’s definitely found a way to blame her for it.

if you go to any of his music videos, you will find numerous comments from paksaeanti05. that’s saebyeol. usually she’s hating on him, but if anyone ELSE tries to hate on him, she turns into a keyboard warrior. she’s his biggest critic and his most loyal supporter.

[antipcdes]

   Shoulders were hunching together, meeting her halfway with a glimmer of excite as Chey began to sound a bit more ambitious towards his gripes about wanting to indulge in a holiday whimsy. Otherwise Christmas for Sam was picking out a bottle of brandy to mix into his egg nog. Yet for some reason he was struck with intrigue no—suspicion—because she remembered long enough to bring it up again - an unlikely and now increasingly questionable revelation to him. The cocking of his head complimented the curve of his brow as he blindly took the drink she slid his way. Tasting its contents with ease, he looked dubious at first before sitting up straight until the arch on his spine was no longer present. “I have more ice stored inside my freezer than all the snow dusting across Texas, Chey... We might as well celebrate Christmas in Australia.” Texas didn’t remind him of stockings by the hearth, hot chocolates and the carolling. “You can’t just throw a Christmas ham onto the grill. That’s like blasphemy.” Sam lifted his pointer finger at her as his own assumptions began to brew in his conscious. He pointed to the curve of her lips before slowly lifting it to her forehead which is where he imagined her motives lay. She was way too accommodating of the idea… and that wasn’t very Chey-esque of her… There is was. The inadvertent curl of his lips appear, the infamous and indignant look he gives her that is very Sam-esque of him. He likes to think it is a half-hearted gesture because he’s convinced that she’s kidding as he digests the hurried babble of hers, focusing solely on ex-boyfriends and weddings. It was all beginning to sound too familiar. “Oh crap. Tell me you’re lying. Like actually, legitimately tell me you’re lying… who the hell goes to their ex’s wedding?” He wants to laugh it off and he wants her to join him so that the two can giggle at the insanity of her proposal. Only that he’s worried he’ll be the only one who’s laughng. “Wait—why? I mean… why? I thought you can’t stand the guy and now you want me to be your date so that we can create our own rendition of ‘The Wedding Date’?”

@antipcdes liked for a starter !

“Remember when you said you were wanting to do something fun and interesting for the holidays?” Whether they actually said that or was just an exaggeration created by Chey was truly a mystery. She chose to believe the former, of course. Getting comfortable in the booth across from them, she nonchalantly slid them a drink she ordered towards them. A sweet gesture… or bribery, more like it. “What about a trip to Texas?” Even she was painfully aware of how little appeal that sentence had and she instantly tried to hide her own grimace. “Think about it… Great barbecue, not too painfully cold, going to my ex-boyfriend’s wedding with me, fun Holiday traditions…” Though she did her best to gloss right over the most important part of her proposal, she knew mumbling it quickly wouldn’t exactly hide it. She wore a sheepish grin and nodded towards them after taking a much needed swig of her beer. “Is that drink good? Want an appetizer? Let me buy you an appetizer…”

[iseulvld]

hey, it’s chey! i’m here to introduce you to pristine’s main vocal & main dancer, hyun “eden” iseul. you can find his public profile here, his private profile here, his plots here & his pinterest board here. below the cut, you’ll find a beginner’s guide to eden.

PERSONALITY.

infp-t   /   the turbulent mediator.   self-critical, imaginative, idealistic, intense, disconnected, awkward. much like a turtle, iseul is timid in social situations and while he can be open at times, he can retreat into his shell at any given moment. once he retreats, it’s as if he’s disconnected from reality; he becomes oblivious to the world around him, unaware of even the loudest attempts to bring him back. he has a rich world inside of his mind where he feels comfortable and sometimes, it can seep into reality. you could say that he views the world around him as a fantasy movie scene, often creating things that aren’t there. he romanticizes things that should be perceived as face value and can easily develop exaggerated views of objects, places, people and even feelings. it’s not uncommon for him to put others on a pedestal and tear himself down. will accept the blame for anything that goes wrong, even when he’s being treated unfairly. despite being withdrawn, he relies heavily on other peoples’ opinions to feel validated and worthy.

pisces   /   the fishes.   dreamy, playful, emotional, artistic, fickle, empathetic. fully aware of the pain that the world holds, he still has a habit of looking at things through rose-colored glasses. he has big dreams and can get a little carried away thinking about them. likes to have fun and laugh as well as make others laugh, even though it takes him a while to get to such a comfortable point with people. his mind changes like the weather, so he has trouble committing to long-term associations, whether it’s relating to his career or interpersonal relationships. his moods are dependent on those of whoever he’s around; highly malleable, tries to camouflage himself in social situations and mimic other people as to not draw excessive attention to himself.

HISTORY.

highkey an unwanted child and neither of his parents tried to hide it.

( TW PHYSICAL + VERBAL ABUSE / MANIPULATION )  i tried not to describe it much in his bio but his parents were...... very toxic. didn’t always treat him poorly --- they were actually pretty nice sometimes --- but when they were bad..... they were bad. endured a lot of abuse until he left for college and they also tried to tell him it was his fault and they only hurt him because they cared about him. ( TW END )

his coping method for everything was basically just pretending that things weren’t as bad as they were. any time someone said something hurtful, he was like :) that’s okay! i know you don’t mean it. tbh he still does this. he’ll put up with SO much bs just bc he’ll tell himself that it’s not personal

was kind of always drawn to more creative ventures such as writing and art; one of his first ever dreams (and still his dream) was/is to be an author. also picked up a hobby of origami when he was really young.

started showing interest in music after he got a MEGA crush on one of his classmates when he was like... 13. the classmate wanted to become an idol (side note... this is an open connection if anyone wants it fbjhvd) and he wanted to have something in common w them, so he was like omg no way??? me too???

started practicing w that friend and it was kind of obvious he didn’t know what he was doing, but he did end up getting better and started to really enjoy it!!!

so he started auditioning for companies when he was 14 behind his parents’ backs, never got accepted tho and eventually his parents found out and they were like.... bruh you are NOT the kim dongchul you think you are.... (oh, sweet irony).

started working part-time when he turned 15, mainly just passed out fliers but would help out at diners sometimes too if they’d let him. needed money to pay for actual lessons bc just practicing w his friend, as much as he did love it, was NOT cutting it and there was no way in hell he was going to pass an audition w his skills at the time.

kept auditioning for YEARS, lit rally didn’t stop until he graduated high school even though his parents mocked every single failure. ended up getting accepted into seoul institute of the arts, where he studied creative writing & dance for a lil while

ended up getting scouted by a summit media rep on campus, thought it was HILARIOUS!!!!! that they were from kim dongchul’s company. got so much enjoyment out of telling his parents. laughed about it for hours

he dropped out in his second year of school bc it was too hard to do everything his professors expected of him and train. nowadays, he really regrets dropping out (and kind of joining tbh), but :// what can ya do?

TRIVIA.

he has a lot of interest in languages, for someone who’s... so bad... at talking. he’s not fluent in anything other than korean (and barely that lmao), but he knows a LITTLE bit of japanese, english, french & italian. but when i say a little... i DO mean a little. for example, all he knows how to say in italian is “in bocca al lupo” which is jus like... an idiom that means good luck. that’s ALL he can retain of the italian language and he says it all the time. boy will never master a language

a big fan of origami. started doing it bc someone he had a crush on in grade school did it and he was like wow, can you teach me??? and for the past however many years, he has been leaving a trail of paper cranes in his wake.

he likes to decorate w the origami he makes --- the pristine dorm definitely has a vase with origami cherry blossoms in it. he likes to make all kinds of things (swans, boats, lotus flowers, hearts, frogs, birds, etc) though & he’s always trying to learn smth new!

also loves writing. the kind of guy who will describe you. will and probably has written poems about everyone he’s ever met. probably uses summit media idols/trainees/staff when he needs muse LMAOOOO. he sees them walking through the halls n he’s like “let me break out my notebook rq”

ALWAYS changing his hair...... wants to do whatever he wants with it while he has the freedom to. loves to dye and cut it. right now, his hair looks the same as in 8yuthe gif icon BUT his fc just cut his hair mad short so there will be a change very soon.

stage name is eden --- basically means that by listening to his voice & watching his performance, you’ll find a serene paradise..... make fun of him for it.

[finding-the-path-to-your-heart]

Humanity

So remember when I said I wanted to fuck around and write that RevFinder Fic? Well, Uh. I kinda did and didn’t? I sorta just ended up writing about how the two would feel about the other human legends as a whole!The movie thing was  inspired by @zimtdraws so go check them out!

Words : 3k Characters : ...Pretty much all the Legends but mainly Revenant/Pathfinder Summary : Revenant, the Newest legend of the group, is asked to go find Pathfinder for movie night - in the process, he ends up finding a lot more than just where he’s hiding.

The Apex Complex was a mystery at the best of times. Seemingly springing up out of nowhere, it soon had a reputation as housing some of the most dangerous criminals, skilled soldiers and smartest engineers in the outlands. Nobody was allowed in, or out without the right clearance, and even then, the only way to get inside was via a huge dropship that would land and depart at regular intervals. Rumours were plentiful; was it secretly a huge testing facility to create the ultimate legend? A prison to keep the legends away from the population while they weren't trying to kill each other? Some kind of secret government coverup to hide the truth behind the entirety of the Apex games? There were even speculations that it was some kind of joint operation with Aliens. In reality though, unless you were one of the legends, you'd never find out about the dark activities that took place behind the high walls of the sprawling Complex...

 WHAM

 The head of the axe buried itself millimetres from the head of the speed-junkie, arms full of knives, ranging from intricately carved to plain and ordinary, a sharp yelp of surprise escaping Octavio Silva's - better known as Octane -  mouth followed by a bubbling laugh as he took off into a sprint, followed by the deep, grating breathing of Bloodhound, eyes flared and glowing as they round the corner and pull their axe out of the wall, only to point it towards the fleeing thief "You will bring those back, Octavio! My weapons exist for the hunt, not your insane stunts!" They let out a low growl, sprinting after the laughing figure and disappearing from view. In another room, 4 different images of the same figure, all wearing the same baggy jeans and loose jacket, pose together in front of a trio sitting on the couch; Ajay Chey, Makoa Gibraltar and Natalie Paquette, all trying to figure out what exactly they were looking at. Makoa was the first one to speak, shrugging after a moment of looking at the other two "Uh... Friday the 13th?"

 "Friday the?!-" 3 of the copies vanish after one of them turns to look at the trio, arms crossed as Elliott Witt stands to look at the three on the couch "C’mon! Les Misera-Misre-Mis- That French musical! Really you guys?" Ajay rolls her eyes, pointing one of the drumsticks she'd been idly tapping on the couch towards the now-pouting figure "T'be fair, NONE of those poses looked like you were singing. Dying, maybe, but not singing" laughter spills from the other two soon after, echoing throughout the living room and bringing a smile back onto the face of the engineer who falls back onto the couch, jabbing a finger towards the medic "Alright, let's see you do better!"

"Alright, I will!"

As she's getting up to start, a loud crash sounds out in the complex - followed immediately after by a loud, thundering "SILVA!" In the unmistakable voice of the complex's resident 'Mad Scientist'. Ajay sighs, rubbing her temples and giving the others an apologetic look "Sorry guys. Guess I'm on Octavio duty until Caustic stops threatening to use him as a lab rat" she turns, jogging out of the room with a yell of "OCTAVIO YOU DUMBASS! GET'CHA ASS OVER HERE!", her footsteps soon fading away.

A door swings open elsewhere in the house with a group of four walking back inside; Tae Joon Park, better known as Crypto, Anita Williams, Renee Blasey and, most curiously, Revenant, the newest member of the legends. Between them, they carry about a dozen bags, with 2 of them supported on Crypto's drone, his hands planted firmly in his pockets. Anita groans, rolling her shoulders and making her way toward the communal kitchen, the others following behind "I swear, if Witt tells me I've got the wrong type of cereal again, I'm gonna pour him an entire box and make him eat the whole thing. There's like 80 different types!" This draws a chuckle from the shorter figure beside her, Renee brushing some of the hair out of her face and setting two bags down on the counter "Oh, please. It's not like he's the only one with a particular quirk - you're the one who snacks on one type of ration bars and nothing else." She smirks, before Crypto navigates the drone over and sets the bags down "Frankly, I'm just surprised at how lax the security was in a store that big. I feel like we probably could have walked out with most of this and nobody would have raised an eyebrow." Anita shoots him a look and he raises both hands out of his pockets in protest "Just because we could didn't mean I did. Besides, if anyone is shifty, it's our newest addition over here" he glances toward the towering figure, as Revenant sets down his bags on the table, glaring across at the other 3 "Alright. I've done what you asked, now are you going to tell me why I bothered entertaining the thought?" A glance between the three ends with Renee leaning on the counter "Easy. It's movie night, and the new guy always picks the movie their first time. We just didn't tell you because we figured you'd say it was pointless" she smirks, the Simulacrum narrowing his eyes. "You'd be right. I have no interest in indulging this pointless activity. Unless there's anything else you want to bother me with, I'll be leaving." He turns, only for Anita to tap him in the shoulder "Yeah, actually. There's something else you can do. Crypto said he saw Pathfinder up on the roof and none of us really have a good way of getting up there besides Octane's bounce pads - and we banned those after the last incident. If you can grab him for movie night, we'll refrain from bothering you for as long as you want."

The figure grumbles for a moment before turning and walking away, muttering "Fine" under his breath as the doors to the complex slide open once more, allowing him access to the outside. The others, having watched him go, soon begin to move food into the numerous fridges and cupboards, avoiding the fridge with a padlock and a biohazard symbol on it. One cupboard opens to reveal over a dozen boxes of cereal, Renee slotting in another one and putting a post-it note to designate it as the newest one. Energy drinks, quick meals, ingredients of all shapes and sizes, all put in their respective places in companionable silence, besides the occasional correction from Anita. When it was done, the three look at each other awkwardly for a moment, before Crypto raises a hand "I'll see you all later tonight. Till then." Before quickly heading off, leaving Anita and Renee face to face - there's a pause as the two both try and figure out what to say, before Anita nods, and the two head their separate ways, with the latter yelling out "Movie night, tonight! I better see all your asses in the main room at twenty-one hundred or you're not getting to pick your own snacks!"

 A slow, steady clanking echoes across the outside of the complex as the Simulacra makes their way up to the top of the main building, clawed hands finding enough purchase in the various nooks and crannies to support themselves until they were able to pull themselves up to the roof, where the blue robot was sitting, looking down through a skylight - one that looked into the main room of the building. From there, it was easy to see the trio still playing charades, Ajay sitting down a smoldering, injured Octavio and patching up several gashes and burn marks. Caustic and Bloodhound stand off to the side, glaring at the grinning daredevil - one, similarly smoking, holding the remains of a gas barrel with a large gash along the side, a smashed breaker in his other hand, the other holding the numerous knives that had been taken, several of which were melted. It was even easy enough to see the more independent legends - Renee leaning against the wall and watching the interaction with a smirk, Crypto sitting in another chair in the room and fiddling with his datapad, Anita flipping over a number pad in the corner which read 'Days since last Stunt' back to 0. Soon enough, Octavio is handed a broom, and trash bag and escorted out of the room by Caustic, head hung low dramatically as he trudges out. Bloodhound examines their ruined knives before shaking their head, walking out of the room as well. All the while, Pathfinder and Revenant watch quietly, the former of the two seemingly only noticing the latter once the room settled down once more, perking up as his face shifts to that bright yellow smile

"Oh! Revenant! What're you doing up here, friend?"

"I'm not your friend. I just came here because the others told me to get you."

"Oh, really? I'm sorry to have caused them trouble! Thanks for letting me know, friend!"

Either the robot hadn't heard him the first time, or simply hadn't acknowledged it, being called 'Friend' by this walking toaster grated on Revenant's nerves.

"I'm not your friend." He takes a moment, pausing before looking down at the skylight "What're you even doing up here, anyway?"

The robot takes a moment, looking down at the skylight again with a question mark on his chest, before looking back up "I'm trying to figure out what it means to be a human"

The Simulacrum was taken aback by the response. So taken aback, in fact, that all he can utter is "Why?"

The robot continues on "Well, it all started with Dr Caustic wanted my help with some experiments because I didn't have 'Useless Human Morality'. Then Octane wanted me to try out a new stunt, because he said he needed someone without ‘Human Limitations’…and then Bangalore told me that she liked having me on the team because I didn’t crack under pressure like a human would…and, well, it got me thinking; what is a human?”

A brief silence passes over the roof before the Simulacra sits down on the same jutting out piece of roof that Pathfinder was, lifting a hand up in front of him and examining the cruel metallic talons that made up his hand before looking off to the side as the massive city that surrounded the complex. So many humans. So many useless wastes of time. “I can tell you what a human is. A human is a waste of space. They’re annoying. Pitiful. Emotional. They brag and boast and fight, all to prove among themselves who’s superior in these useless competitions – and for what? So that they can live more of their frivolous lives killing and plaguing the world with their existence, so they can spend credits on pointless trinkets and useless objects that will end up as little more than scrap metal and forgotten junk within a few decades. But most of all, they’re weak – their body are fragile so they cover themselves in armour, their ability to kill is lacklustre at best, so they invent weapons to do the killing for them, and they claim that their intelligence is what puts them at the top of a food chain when most of them aren’t even smart enough to know how pathetic they really are!” all the while, Revenant has been leaning steadily further and further forwards, looking down towards the skylight and the group playing charades below – a group that’s now expanded out to include most of the legends, with Caustic in the centre holding what looks like a remarkable realistic skull out and monologuing silently to it. “I mean, look at them! Even now, when they could be training, refining themselves, getting even MARGINALLY more useful, they’re doing THIS!” they snarl, gripping the piece of the roof so hard that it splinters and cracks under his grip, before slamming his feet onto the ground and standing up, forcefully enough that Mirage looks up at the sight above him, eyes widening and face going pale at the sight of the two robots looking down at the group from above. He seems to make some kind of excuse, quickly leaving the room and disappearing from view.

Revenant stands, back to the skylight, staring down at his hand, twitching and trembling with barely contained rage after working himself into a state. His hand turns, looking at the symbol of Hammond robotics on the back, eyes flaring up for a moment before a voice cuts through the miasma of rage that’d be clouding his head. “Are you okay, Friend?”

Revenant turns, eyes flaring up again, turning towards Pathfinder looking towards him with a question mark on his chest, before he runs a hand back over his head and takes a moment, letting out a deep sigh “I’m done with this conversation.” He turns, making to leave before Pathfinder speaks once again. “I don’t agree with you, friend.” Revenant pauses. The robot was so usually accepting of what other people said and believed, that it was actually rather uncommon for him to disagree with anyone – and this had caught his attention. He crosses his arms, walking back over and looking down at Pathfinder without sitting down, disdain in his gaze. “And why’s that?” Pathfinder’s eye turns back towards the people below, all laughing as Octane has removed both of his legs, crawling dramatically across the ground towards Bloodhound, who’s holding a long pole in one of their hands. The face on Pathfinder’s chest shifts to a smile as he turns to look back towards Revenant “I think Humans are much more than all of that. I don’t think you’re wrong – humans are weak and pathetic sometimes, but they can be strong in ways that I can’t! Gibraltar makes everyone around him feel happy and safe, Octane makes people laugh all the time, and Lifeline understands how to make people feel better when they’re sad – I can’t do any of that, and I think that’s a kind of strength!” Revenant makes to interrupt, but he continues “I train a lot of the time with shooting and grappling, but I don’t think I’d be anywhere near as strong if I didn’t have the others as my friends! They make me want to be better, and I want to be better for them right back! If they help me, it’s only fair I help them too. Sure, Humans aren’t strong, they’re fragile and weak, but…they don’t make fun of me for being cold and tough…and they don’t make fun of you, either! Neither of us are humans, but…most of the time, they act like we are, even though they don’t have to!” He turns, looking back towards the humans down below, swinging his legs slowly as he does so “I might not know who my creator is, but…if they want to treat me as a human, then I know who my family is, and they’re all the people who make me want to keep fighting!” his screen lights up in an exclamation mark and he turns towards revenant excitedly, grabbing his hands as he stands up “That’s it! Being human isn’t about having skin or organs or making silly decisions. It’s about caring about people, what they think, how they feel! Human isn’t a thing, it’s a way you think, and I think I can be just as human as the rest of them…with enough practice, at least. Maybe you could teach me, friend?”

A moment of silence hangs in the air, confusion written across Revenant’s face as he looks at the robot quizzically “Why on earth would you want me to try and teach you how to be human? Look at me, do I look any more human than you are?” “No, but that doesn’t matter! Human is caring about people, and with how much you spoke about them needing to be stronger, smarter and more useful, it sounds like you care about the people down there a whole lot!”

A moment of realisation flickers across the face of the Simulacrum, as he turns his gaze down towards the group once more. This…Pathfinder was right, for once. Why did he care so much about these meatbags? They were weak. Pitiful. Pathetic…and yet, they were honest, brutally so. From ritualistic hunting to mad science, none of them had made any attempt to hide who they were, and none of them had treated him any differently than the others around them. To them, he wasn’t some twisted abomination of steel and plastic, pretending to be a person, he was just…another Legend. Looking down, the light of the setting sun casts his reflection in the skylight, showing – for the first time in a long time – a human face, looking so, so very tired, wrapped in his shemagh, smiling weakly.

“I’m going to be going back down now. Are you coming, friend?” He’s snapped out of his staring by Pathfinder once more, currently in the process of dropping down off the side of the building, before nodding and dropping down with him, making his way back inside of the building alongside the azure robot, right as there’s a call of “Mamma Mia!” a laugh, and subsequent cheer that fills the room as the two performing in the middle collapse down. Bangalore turns, hearing the two walking back inside and smiling, turning towards Revenant and nodding her head “Thanks. You didn’t have to  do that, but you did, so…as promised, we’ll all leave you alone for the rest of the night. We’ll be in here, so you won’t have to worry about us disturbing you as long as you don’t come in” She turns around, heading back to the group before she’s stopped by his voice

“Wait. Would it…be alright if I joined you all for Movie Night?” Revenant asks, looking away, uncertainty written across his face before Bangalore laughs, grinning and patting his back, shoving him forwards until he’s standing in front of the group, confusion written across most of their faces – and fear across one – before she turns to the group “Our newest Legend here wants to be part of Movie Night – but I figure, if he wants to prove that he’s seriously interested, he should show us how good he is at acting, first!” what started as confusion soon turns into laughter, before a cheer of approval rings out, the tall, lanky figure standing in the middle of the room, confused for a moment before a faint smile crosses that skeletal face, dropping into a pose in the middle of the room and listening to the others starting to guess.

And were anyone to look into the room, they would see not a simulacra, but a human, a smile across his face as he rebuffs the various attempts made by the other people in the room, trying to guess what his gangly limbs and hard-to-read expression were trying to represent – they’d see something that looked less like a collection of killers, criminals and monsters, and something more closely resembling a family. An odd family, of course, but a family nonetheless.

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “Are We Out of the Woods” [ 2.03 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (daphnegolshiri) || S2 Tag || Official Page

WRONG THINGS, RIGHT THINGS – Disaster strikes rehearsals for the fall musical when a major vandalism throws everyone off schedule. As the junior class points fingers at prime suspects, Riley and Isadora attempt to clear a good friend’s name. Although only one student is responsible for the crime, more than one of them is lying.

62 Minutes (16K words) || No warnings apply.

[ ← Second Choice ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ Valerie De La Cruz → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

A black screen, only for a moment, as NIGEL CHEY cues us in…

Nigel: Once upon a time --

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Prologue: Into the Woods” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

The orchestration of the seminal Broadway class launches us into the musical-centric episode for the season. The camera eases its way down the hall, students running by in costume or techies giving tasks to one another as they go. A set piece, half in progress, is pushed by JEFF MONROE back into the auditorium through the dressing room doors.

On the wall outside the black box theater, a poster for the musical is up: Into the Woods (in case the first song hadn’t tipped us off). On the bulletin board outside, the cast list is still posted, where all of our main players have initialed next to their given roles.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

On the stage, set still in progress but nearly complete behind them, our main players are doing a run through of the opening number in real time. This is where our first true taste of the casting comes into focus, RILEY MATTHEWS as Cinderella stage right, CHARLIE GARDNER as Jack with his prop cow at center stage, and FARKLE MINKUS taking on the role of The Baker with YINDRA AMINO as The Baker’s Wife stage left.

Other roles are introduced as they step into the number, such as ISADORA DE LA CRUZ as Little Red Riding Hood, and MAYA HART as The Witch. However, the opening prologue is a lengthy piece, and there’s much more going on that shares focus as we settle into Sondheim’s musical world.

For example, LUCAS FRIAR is in the midst of conversing with DAVE WILLIAMS over the construction of their most complex set piece. It’s nearly complete, and Dave has been slaving away over it for weeks. It’s clear that he considers it his baby at this point. He speaks about it with overt enthusiasm, slapping DYLAN ORLANDO’s hand away as he tries to touch it.

Unfortunately, Lucas isn’t in the mood for enthusiasm. It’s clear Dave is getting on his nerves with his perfectionism, warning him that they’re running out of time to finish the damn thing, so he’s going to have to either hustle or settle for less than perfect.

Dave: You can’t rush art.

Lucas, flatly: It’s a fake hill with fake trees.

Dave: Shh! It’ll hear you!

NATE MARTINEZ exchanges a look with Lucas, assuring him that they’ll get it done. Dave continues to assure the set piece that Lucas didn’t mean it. He’s just stressed, once again in a role he doesn’t want to have. And ain’t that the truth…

Meanwhile, SHAWN HUNTER and HARPER BURGESS are at odds yet again. They’re quietly arguing in the front and center section as the rehearsal progresses, Shawn pointing out that giving Isadora such a large role has seriously depleted her ability to help the techie brigade.

Harper: Perhaps you shouldn’t put such an exclusionary attitude on the techies, and teach some of the performers who didn’t get roles to work.

Shawn: That would take more time than our current crew doing it alone.

Harper: Well, then maybe you should’ve been doing that the whole time. Hindsight truly is 20/20, isn’t it?

Harper is done with the conversation, turning her focus back to the rehearsal. Shawn rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair before marching off in the other direction.

In the wings, ZAY BABINEAUX is conversing with NICK YOGI and SARAH CARLSON. The boys are dressed in their costumes for their roles as the Princes, looking pretty sharp. Although he seems unbothered, Sarah makes an offhand comment about how Zay was duped for a leading role again by Farkle. That’s a shoddy track record, especially with Farkle being kind of universally disliked at this point.

Sarah: Guess talent really is the ultimate factor, isn’t it?

Zay: Please, time on stage does not equate best performance. The Prince is a far more interesting and fun role anyway.

A true statement, perhaps, but there’s an equal amount of truth to Sarah’s earlier statement as well. Despite how well he brushes it off, there has to be a frustration to constantly taking a backseat to the villain of Adams’ history.

Focus shifts back to the actual number when Maya is laying down the required items for the Baker family to get their wish. As the rest of the rehearsal unfolds and each core character begins their journey into the woods, the performances clearly show off why the show was casted the way it was. As usual, the choices seem to be spot on.

That being said, Farkle’s perfect casting doesn’t stretch into his overall state. He doesn’t seem… on top of things, for what it’s worth. He’s lacking his usual pop of energy, and there are small moments as the last minute unfolds where he’s actually starting to look a little unsteady.

This comes to a head when they reach the final chorus, Farkle front and center as they sing the final harmony. He gets through the note and then promptly collapses, sending the screen into black as everyone reacts in concern and shock around him.

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - TEACHER’S LOUNGE - DAY

A blurry visual fades us in from the titles, fading in and out of black until the vision stabilizes: the ceiling with speckled tiles, lighting dim in the lounge to make for a less intense setting.

Farkle blinks, confused as he comes back to consciousness. He lets his gaze drift, allowing more things to come into perspective. This includes the three people looking at him -- Charlie, kneeling next to him with a cold compress, having been the first one to jump to his aid; Riley, watching in concern but not quite ready to be right at his bedside; and lastly Lucas, glaring at him from over his shoulder and reminding him how to feel fear.

Charlie: Farkle? Can you hear me?

Farkle: What the hell is going on?

Zay darts in with another cold compress, exchanging the old one with Charlie. He tries to put it on Farkle’s forehead, but he pushes his help away and struggles into a sitting position instead.

Riley: You fainted.

Zay: Scared the hell out of everyone.

Charlie: People just weren’t expecting it. Are you okay?

Farkle: … oh, so now you all suddenly care? Just because I took a little tumble?

Lucas: Don’t flatter yourself.

Harper enters, tailed by ERIC MATTHEWS and the school nurse. Eric instructs all of the other students to go back to rehearsal and give Farkle a little bit of space. They obey, Zay patting Charlie’s shoulder as he glances back over his shoulder in concern.

While Eric is able to settle right down with the nurse and address Farkle, Harper keeps her distance. The two of them have had a strange relationship from the first week, so she’s even more uncertain how to handle this situation. She awkwardly wishes Farkle well and says he can come back to rehearsal as soon as he’s more steady.

As she leaves, Eric begins questioning Farkle on the status of his health. Has he been feeling sick? Is he drinking enough water during rehearsals? Farkle is able to answer things pretty pointedly, until Eric starts gearing the conversation towards more mental areas. Is he getting enough sleep? How are his eating habits? He dodges by answering vaguely, but it’s unclear whether he genuinely doesn’t really know or if he’s just wary of discussing his current emotional state.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Isadora makes her way across the stage towards where the techies are working on the major set piece, getting sidetracked by Maya. She eagerly wonders whether or not Valerie has responded to Isadora’s invitation to come see the show. Isadora claims her starlet mother is in fact planning to be in attendance, and the two of them share a moment of excitement.

Maya lets her go, leaving her to approach her former usual crew. Lucas, Nate, and Dylan are arguing about a feature of the set piece that still isn’t complete. It was supposed to be Farkle’s job as part of his punishment, but considering he’s in rehearsals ninety percent of the time and is now sick, they’re going to have to pick up the slack.

Isadora swoops in just at this moment, asking how things are going. Dylan relays the situation in quick terms, and while Isadora attempts to begin brainstorming like old times, it’s evident that the boys aren’t really all that interested in what she has to offer. In fact, there might be some resentment already in place considering how her focus is split in rehearsals as well.

Nate: Well, you know, maybe you could actually help if you weren’t so double-booked.

The moment passes before she can form a retort, Dylan offering to take up the extra work. They settle it and break without further discussion. Lucas heads off in another direction without waiting up, so Isadora has to jog to keep up with him as he begins the long journey through the auditorium towards the booth. He claims they’re both busy and maybe don’t have all that much time, but Isadora seems determined to have a conversation.

Isadora: I just wanted to let you know that my mom is planning on coming to opening night. I know how you feel about her, so I thought you might like the warning. You know, so you can take your civility shots or whatever you need to do.

Lucas is clearly displeased by this information, but he covers it with nonchalance. He doesn’t buy that she’ll actually show, but Isadora is welcome to get her hopes up if that’s what she feels like spending her energy on.

It’s frustrating, how conversations seem to have this edge between them these days. Isadora charges onward regardless, shifting gears and pointing out how brusque Nate was to her. With Lucas also sort of giving her the brush-off, she attempts to get a read on if they’re really pissed.

Lucas: Look… I don’t know. I guess we just didn’t realize that you doing the musical was going to be like… a recurring thing. I figured after The Miserables --

Isadora, without thinking: Les Mis.

Lucas: … did you just correct me?

Whoopsie. Rookie mistake. Isadora tries to recover, quickly changing the subject and pointing out that they handled the production of things totally fine without her last year. She has no doubt that they’ll be able to pull it off again.

Isadora: Besides, you guys really did a great job with Les Mis --

Lucas: THE MISERABLES.

Clearly, this conversation is not going to produce positive returns. If Isadora was searching for reassurance that her footing with the techies was all well and good, she’s not going to find it here and now.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Meanwhile, rehearsal must go on, so they’re gearing up to move forward on numbers that don’t require Farkle to run through. Harper finishes telling the boys this before giving them a five minute warning. Zay and Yogi finish getting into costume, their duet as the princes the next one up that fits that criteria.

Zay: Well, if our supposed leading man is going to sleep on the job, Yogles and I will be happy to pick up the slack. Not that we really need the practice --

Nigel rolls his eyes, exchanging a look with Charlie. Charlie can’t help but smile, eyeing Zay as he’s getting ready to march back out onto the stage.

Zay: But, well, the show must go on.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Agony” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Zay Babineaux & Nick Yogi

Perhaps the most straightforward performance we’ll get all episode, Zay and Yogi take their rehearsal time seriously and deliver an entertaining rendition of the princely duet. However, the duet in it of itself is theatrical and over the top, so maybe “seriously” isn’t the right word.

In any case, it’s clear that Zay wasn’t kidding when he claimed they hardly needed much more rehearsal. He completely owns the stage, demonstrating how much that summer confidence has done for him. Harper is thoroughly enjoying the performance, as well as their classmates as they watch from the wings. Riley and Maya laugh along; Charlie is totally enthralled.

When they wrap, Harper gives them a quick congratulations for actually being on top of their roles. Zay gives a cheeky little bow, exiting the stage with a flourish.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Riley is on the hunt for Zay, aiming to tell him he did a great job and potentially thwart any diva meltdown that might be brewing before it can take hold. He’s nowhere to be found, but she accidentally runs into Maya and Isadora instead.

Maya is in the midst of talking Isadora down from stress over the rehearsal process, the latter just finishing up lamenting how she can’t help the techies and that might be becoming a real problem, but she’s stressed that she can’t keep up with the performers either.

They both grow quieter when they realize they’re not alone, Riley giving them a tight smile. She apologizes for interrupting them, but Maya claims it’s fine as she actually has to go get ready for her own number. She backs off, giving the two of them the potential to talk.

There’s still an uncertainty between them, but it’s clear that Isadora isn’t unhappy to see her. Riley timidly ventures some advice based on what she overheard, explaining that she knows all too well how it feels to be the one who can’t keep up. She has no doubt that Isadora will catch up in no time, though, and she shouldn’t forget that she’s in this role for a reason.

Considering the walls Isadora has been hitting with Lucas and the techies, hearing such blatant encouragement is a welcome change. She nods, giving Riley a quiet thanks.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

The doors to the hallway on the opposite end of the stage kick open, Dylan and ASHER GARCIA arriving and declaring that they’ve successfully picked up the new supplies from Home Depot. It’ll take a lot of help to move it all, so all the techies head out to assist.

Harper is pacing the stage, determining who still needs to hang around for evening rehearsal. Farkle returns from the teacher’s lounge, looking less pale but still tired. Still he jogs up to Harper anyway, reporting for duty and asking if he should start working on one of his numbers again. Maybe “It Takes Two,” if Yindra is around?

Uncertain how to address him, Harper sort of blows him off. She claims they can probably hold off on his other performances until tomorrow, and perhaps he could use the additional rest. The last thing they need is another collapse. He grows frustrated at the dismissal, asking if he should then keep working on the set piece, or go back to the script library. There has to be something he can do -- but Harper has made her decision.

Harper: Farkle, you’re done for the day. Go home and rest. We don’t need you here anymore.

The sentiment obviously hits Farkle, although he swallows it rather than lashing back. He backs off as Harper switches back into directorial mode, calling for the cast and crew to meet center stage for a pre-dinner meeting. As she’s taking account of major players, one absence becomes immediately glaring…

Harper: Where the hell is Babineaux?

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - NIGHT

Babineaux, as it were, is in the costume loft. And there’s really only one reason that anyone besides Jade ever goes in the costume loft.

If there’s one thing to know about Charlie Gardner and Zay Babineaux, it’s that perhaps one of the most attractive traits between them -- and what brought them together in the first place, all things considered -- is one another’s talent (i.e. the boys certainly understand Artists Are Attractive). So following such a phenomenal performance of “Agony,” it’s unsurprising that Charlie felt the need to… express some things.

Their banter is playful like usual, the mythos of the costume loft giving them a faux sense of privacy as they kiss. Zay points out that Cinderella’s prince and the lad Jack hooking up would certainly make for an interesting twist, easily emphasized by the fact that they’re both currently in costume. Charlie takes his face, looking him over before shaking his head.

Charlie: Don’t get me started on the costume.

For what it’s worth, it is a good, appealing costume for a good, appealing prince. Jade did an excellent job. Such words aren’t necessary, however, as how eagerly Charlie kisses him conveys the message effectively enough.

Just as they’re getting into it, the doors opening to the loft from down below startle them out of it. Charlie lets out a panicked “shit” before Zay urges him to hide, both of them fumbling for a cover until Zay literally knocks Charlie over, behind a rack of costumes and out of sight.

Just in time, as Maya pops her head up on the ladder to the loft and asks him what the hell he’s doing up there alone. They’re grouping for rehearsal and he needs to get his ass in attendance. Zay nods in agreement and promises he’ll be down in a flash, waiting until she rolls her eyes and disappears again to let out a sigh.

Charlie digs himself out from the rubble and into a sitting position, flushed and obviously dazed. Zay drops down to start helping him, trying to take his hands and help him back up.

Zay: Holy shit, are you okay --

Charlie: I’m -- just go! Go, go, before she comes back.

Zay nods, dipping down to give him a quick kiss before darting down the ladder. Charlie sighs, falling back into the costumes.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The performers assemble on the stage in a circle, the techies continuing to move set materials while Harper discusses the rest of their rehearsal plan for the evening. Charlie jogs up and joins the group last, jumping in next to Yindra. When she asks him where the hell he was, he makes a face and shrugs like it’s no big deal. Nothing for her to worry about.

Given that tomorrow is their first full-day weekend rehearsal, and they’re only five days away from opening, the pressure is on to start cracking down. Harper releases the performers for a quick dinner break, and informs the techies that once they’re done moving things they can break for dinner as well. Everyone is dismissed.

All of them begin moving at once, the technicians heading back out the side door to keep working while the performers flutter off. Lucas hesitates when he realizes Isadora isn’t following them, calling after her.

Lucas: … Dora. [ when she faces him ] Are you not going to help?

Isadora: Oh. Well… I kind of want to eat with my castmates. That’s like… part of the bonding thing. You know?

Lucas: … oh, yeah. Sure. That’s fine, whatever. Break a leg, then. [ under his breath ] Maybe both legs.

It’s so hard to tell when Lucas’s sarcasm is dipping into genuine disdain. Isadora takes the spoken acceptance for what it’s worth, nodding and heading in the other direction.

Yindra and Nigel tease Zay about showing up so late to their meeting, pointedly wondering where the hell he was. Maya throws out that he was in the costume loft, to which both of them are like ooh, the costume loft? What could you possibly have been doing there, Isaiah? But the friendly jeers take on a slightly sensitive slant when Sarah throws in her two cents.

Sarah: No wonder Farkle keeps getting roles over you, now that he’s able to help with tech and perform while having a diva meltdown. You can’t even show up on time. But no, you’re clearly above it all.

Zay looks like he has choice things he’d like to say, but Riley distracts him and yanks him back towards the doors for dinner. She states that eating will make him feel better, but Zay pulls away and claims he just wants a few minutes alone to destress. He’ll catch up with her later.

Dave, on the other hand, is in no hurry to head to dinner. He’s still obsessing over his magnum opus of a set piece, growing nitpicky and getting a little too attached to it. Asher and Dylan are pulling him away, claiming that he needs food and like… healthy separation.

Lucas finishes bringing the last of the wood in and encourages his lieutenants to get Dave a good distance from this thing that’s eating him alive, to which they’re like aye, aye, captain. He starts to follow them out, then pauses, glancing over his shoulder at the set piece. Large, impressive, the most important piece of their set design. Then he leaves, casting the auditorium into quiet.

Farkle is the last one present, sauntering out into the auditorium with his things to discover he’s been left behind yet again. He supposes that makes sense, given that he was already blatantly dismissed, but it always feels more pointed when he’s standing all alone. He meanders to center stage, spinning and taking a look at the set. He stares up at it, contemplation coloring his tired expression…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Harper shares dinner with Eric, taking the chair across from his desk as she vents about the rehearsal process. She feels as though she’s doing her best, but this whole experience is still super overwhelming. Everyone looks to her for answers, and sometimes she doesn’t have them. Not to mention the attitude she gets from Farkle and how that’s morphed into a complicated dynamic she has no idea how to move forward from, and the techies clearly don’t respect her. That’s particularly frustrating, considering she was a techie when she first attended AAA all those years ago.

Eric talks her down, assuring her that she’s doing an excellent job. Especially given that they’ve only had… what, one student ailment and zero tantrums so far? That might be the least trauma they’ve ever encountered during a typical AAA production. What else could possibly go wrong?

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Great question, Eric. As is storytelling tradition, the moment someone asks that rhetorical query, it must be answered.

Dave is heading back into the auditorium before everyone else, in good spirits and eager to get back to work. He’s humming to himself and dancing a little bit as he goes, coming back to the set building area and rubbing his hands to get back to work.

Only the moment he looks up, it’s as though we’ve entered a horror movie. The camera goes close on his face as he stares up above him, eyes wide before he screams bloody murder. Nothing but pure, abject terror -- Dave is quite the scream queen -- but why?

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT - LATER

The central set piece has been majorly damaged. It’s a hollow shell of the beauty it used to be, pieces broken off and torn and holes through the paper mache. Totally vandalized.

It’s Dave’s worst nightmare. As we ease away from the damage, the full class assembled comes into focus. Isadora is staring up at the destroyed set piece, stunned, while the rest of the class discusses the damage in hushed murmurs.

Lucas jogs in on the heels of Nate, asking what the hell is going on. His jaw drops when he sees the set piece, as well as Dave huddled on the floor in front of it in a total state. Asher and Jade are kneeling on either side of him, attempting to comfort him. Lucas seems genuinely upset by Dave’s reaction, but Dylan pulls him out of it by asking him what the hell they’re going to do.

Riley adds that this is bad news for all of them, considering they only have five days of rehearsal left and that set piece took all production long to make. They simply don’t have time to put it back together at the same rate, at least not the way they’ve been approaching it so far. It’s going to take all of them dedicating time and effort to it while working overtime, including the performers.

Not to mention, as Charlie points out, who is to say that there won’t be more trouble? Only one of them could’ve done this as they’re the only ones in the school this late on Friday. Whoever openly sabotaged the show, they’re guaranteed to be in their midst.

Naturally, such a dark realization instigates a frenzied slew of accusations. After tossing some words around the popular narrative seems to narrow down to three potential suspects.

Haley: It was obviously Farkle. After everything that happened last year, what does he have to lose?

Yindra: Um, news flash, American Girl? Farkle’s not even here.

Nate: Yeah, but he was. He left after the rest of us, and no one saw him leave. Clear motive, clear opportunity.

Sarah: Yeah, except he literally wiped out like an hour before. I don’t believe he could do all that damage with his twig arms, let alone when he’s already running on dead battery.

Yindra and Nigel turn the tables on her, asking if she’s so sure, who the hell does she think did it?

Sarah: Seriously? Is this even a question? [ gesturing to Lucas ] Who is our local delinquent?

Asher/Dylan, in unison: Hey, no way --

Riley: I don’t think --

Lucas: Real ballsy of you to say so to my face, Sarah. Just because you enjoy constantly cutting down the work of your classmates doesn’t mean I get the same sadistic thrill.

Jeff: Yeah, why would a techie destroy another techie’s work?

Good point, but a lot of people seem to think Lucas isn’t a bad argument. He is always angry, after all, and he’s vandalized things before. He scoffs.

Lucas: This is so bullshit. This is profiling.

Zay: That’s not what profiling means, white bread.

Darby: Well I don’t know if I would be so smug, Zay.

Zay: The hell are you on about?

Darby: You’ve been acting kind of weird, too. And you weren’t at dinner until later.

Riley: Yeah, but not long enough to do that.

Zay: Are you seriously claiming I did this?

Sarah picks up the slack on this thread, pointing out that Zay was also pointedly late to their group meet up before dinner. He could’ve been getting everything ready then, and then he could easily pull it off quicker. Zay grows defensive, stating that he has better things to do than fuck with their production.

Nate: Yeah, because you’re always above everything, aren’t you?

Riley steps forward and rubs Zay’s arm comfortingly, obviously not believing it could’ve been him. Charlie also looks like he wants to say something, but as things grow more heated he keeps his mouth shut.

The in-fighting only ceases when Harper returns with Eric, both of them shocked at the state of the set piece. When she frantically questions what the hell happened, a bunch of people start speaking at once and it’s impossible to figure out what anyone is saying. It’s a lot to absorb all at once, so Harper snaps and tells all of them they’re dismissed for the evening. Clearly everyone needs to cool down, and they’ll figure this out during their 12-hour rehearsal day tomorrow.

It’s the first time Harper has raised her voice in front of the class, so everyone takes the demand seriously. They disperse, Eric going to assess the damage as Asher and Jade manage to pull Dave up from being a puddle on the floor.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

JACK HUNTER is in the midst of a dinner date with ANNE MARIE WINTHROP, beginning the transitioning from the meal to the… extracurricular portion of the evening. The mood is disturbed when his phone rings, Jack pulling back from her to check his phone.

He states that it’s work, which Anne Marie points out can wait considering it’s the weekend. He’s working on the work-life balance, remember? She regains his attention, gently pulling him back into a kiss… when his phone rings again. She relinquishes him with a sigh, Jack offhandedly explaining that with the musical going on right now, it probably has something to do with that. He’ll be quick, he promises.

Anne Marie watches as he dashes off with the phone, propping her feet up on the couch.

INT. MINKUS HOME - NIGHT

Farkle is in fact home for the evening, half-heartedly eating something for late dinner alone at the dining table. He jumps when his phone rings, surprised to see Riley calling. He answers immediately, not even sure what to say in greeting.

She says she’s simply checking in to see how he’s feeling, and also inform him about the set piece debacle and how that might impact rehearsals tomorrow. To his credit, Farkle seems stunned by the news.

Farkle: What? That’s terrible. It was fine when I left… are they going to fix it? I mean, we only have a few days before opening --

Riley explains that they’re going to get more information tomorrow. Farkle appears genuinely frazzled, but on the one hand, he is an actor. Or it could just be nerves…

He attempts to try and keep the conversation going with Riley, who he hasn’t really spoken to since the end of last year. But she finds an exit route and tells him she has to go, stating she’ll see him tomorrow before hanging up. Not giving him much of an opportunity to reconnect.

INT. MAYA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

KATY HART is likewise on the phone, deep in a debate with their landlord. She’s talking numbers and clearly trying to negotiate something important, but she abruptly ends the call when Maya stumbles in from rehearsal. Based on her expression it’s obvious something’s up, but Maya does not seem in the mood for talking.

Katy: What’s going on? How was rehearsal?

Maya: Exhausting. Everything is bonkers as usual. Whatever. I’m going to bed.

Katy doesn’t argue the point further. Maya drops her duffle by the door and gives her mother a quick kiss on the cheek, stomping off to sleep.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The grueling 12-hour rehearsal kicks off with a tense start, the destroyed set piece looming over the cast and crew as they saunter in early in the morning. People continue to throw around their suspicions, particularly at Farkle now that he’s returned for the day.

Farkle: I’m amazed at the sexism on this stage right now. You all have decided on your three prime suspects, and yet, why are we only assuming a guy could’ve done this?

Yindra: It’s not our problem all y’all boys in this class are emotionally unstable.

Clarissa: Besides, that part of the set piece is too high up for most of us to reach.

Maya: Izzy and I are innocent for sure. We’re tiny.

Yogi: Step ladders exist.

Maya: Which is obviously what you used, you’re the shortest of all of us --

Harper ceases the arguing with her arrival, essentially banning discussion about the culprit. She wants all of their focus directed towards rehearsal and repairing the set, not trying to pin blame on one another.

Yogi: [ singing under his breath ] No what really matters is the blame, somebody to blame…

The investigation, Harper wants them to leave to the professionals. Which in this case, are Jack and Eric. They saunter their way in as she’s explaining the new rules, discussing heatedly as they make their way up to the stage. It’s clear Jack isn’t exactly pleased to be there, although he grows more somber when he gets a good look at the set piece for the first time.

The class, on the other hand, isn’t impressed.

Nigel: Them? They’re supposed to be our grand detectives?

Jack: Believe me, Mister Chey, there are dozens of ways I’d rather be spending my Saturday.

Harper: Principal Hunter and Mister Matthews have narrowed down problematic students before, and I am sure they’ll be able to do it again.

Jade: Yeah, because they did such a good job with the Confessions page.

The rest of the class agrees, lightly clowning the administrative duo. Like, sure. Let them try their best. No one seems particularly threatened by their involvement, and when Harper dismisses them to get into costume and make-up the three of them regroup.

Jack: How did I somehow end up dragged into yet another episode of Adams Unsolved? As opposed to, you know… running the school like a normal principal?

Eric points out never has his role been “normal.” But whatever, they’ll be able to figure it out. Which launches us into yet another classic Jack & Eric interrogation sequence…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack paces the office while Eric sits at his desk, both them tossing questions to each student that sits opposite them in the hot seat. The discussion tends to drift to what the class has deemed the most likely suspects, although no theory is exactly concrete.

Clarissa takes the seat first, offering her two cents. From there, it’s a game of popcorn. As each student takes the seat, it’s picking up from the last, but of course none are in conversation with one another.

Clarissa: I’m not going to act like I know anything for certain, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Lucas did it.

Eric: Why’s that?

Sarah: Uh, maybe because… he’s a criminal? You two should know, isn’t there like a mega folder dedicated to chronicling his misdeeds?

Jeff: There’s no way Lucas would do another techie like that. Dave worked so hard on that set piece. He’s sort of a dick, but he wouldn’t go that far.

Yindra: Oh, sure he would. Lucas hasn’t cared about anybody but himself since like, last April. If that. He’s a pissed off white boy, they’ll do anything.

Clarissa: Not to mention he’s already sort of sabotaged the show. He was a good stage manager last year, but it’s been a mess this year. He’s all over the place and angry all the time, and that’s when he elects to show up at all.

Still, there are alternative points to his seemingly obvious guilt. Asher and Dylan are the only two students to be interviewed together, seated next to one another.

Asher: We were finishing unloading set pieces when the prep would’ve occurred, and all at dinner together when the vandalism happened.

Dylan: Yeah, and we all saw each other. Therefore, it could not have been Asher. Or me. Or Lucas.

Jack: And you’re sure you had eyes on all of your fellow technicians? At all times?

Dylan: Sure. There was me and Ash --

Asher: And Jade.

Dylan: And Jeff.

Asher: Nate, Dave --

Dylan: And Lucas. That’s everyone.

Then, of course, Lucas has his own take.

Lucas: All this proves to me is that no one in the junior class has a collective brain cell. I was helping the techies with the supplies haul -- because we’re the only ones who ever do any real work. [ nodding to Eric taking notes ] That’s called an alibi, did you jot that down?

Jack: Okay, okay. Cool it, Lucas.

Lucas: The supply move took about a half an hour, and then we were all at dinner together. Did I watch my friends like a hawk, no, but maybe that’s because I trust them.

Throwback to Eric with Dylan and Asher.

Eric: And you’re sure you saw him. The whole time.

Asher: Beyond a reasonable doubt.

Dylan: We’re sure.

With that confirmation, the mystery grows more befuddling. And Lucas is still defensive, but it’s not clear whether that makes him seem more or less guilty.

Lucas: Besides, why the hell would I destroy the work of a fellow technician? Let alone my friends? I’m one of the only people who gives a shit about what we do. Oh, and then there’s the little detail of uh, I didn’t do it!

Convincing delivery. But Lucas has lied before, so it’s not a guaranteed innocence. There are other potential culprits to consider, however.

Yindra: Lucas’s lame attitude aside, I don’t think he did it. I don’t think he cares enough. Farkle, on the other hand --

Charlie: Farkle has been acting kind of weird lately. Not that I think he did it, but I don’t know, he’s seemed on edge since he came back for school. Which makes sense, you know, given how last year ended...

Darby: If he’s been waiting for a chance to get back at all of us or further his reign of terror, this would certainly be a good move.

Solid points. But then, it still doesn’t seem all that simple.

Farkle: This is ridiculous. I was at home because I was sent home, you can call my parents and confirm. Or ask Miss Burgess.

Eric: People said that the vandalism could’ve occurred before you were picked up. There is a window enough for something like that.

Farkle: Mister Matthews, you saw me yesterday. Did I look itching for a scrap? No. I was tired, so I went home as directed and got some sleep. That’s it.

Logically, there are other holes in his potential guilt as well. He’s not the only one who believes in his innocence.

Jade: I mean, I don’t like Farkle, but it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Why would he sabotage a show where he has the lead?

Nigel: He hasn’t been nearly as rabid this year as he was last year. I get why everyone is automatically pointing fingers at him, but I don’t know, I don’t think vicious destruction is his vibe. Now, if we all suddenly came down with hay fever and lost our voices before opening night, then I might consider he did some kind of witchcraft…

Nate: Minkus is a stone cold bitch, but he cares way too much about his time in the spotlight to throw it away over something so stupid.

Charlie: Also, I saw him when he collapsed. He didn’t look good. I don’t think he would be running off to cause trouble after a fall like that.

Sarah: Oh, come on, is that supposed to be a valid excuse? He’s an actor. He could’ve faked the whole thing for attention. I don’t buy that as an automatic pass.

Then, there’s the third oddball suspect to have been afforded potential blame. He comes back into the conversation after Dave’s choked up explanation, slouched deep in Eric’s chair.

Dave: I swear, I left and everything was fine. It was perfect. Asher and Dylan dragged me out to dinner, but I ate really fast so I could come back and do the final finishing touches. And when I got back, it was a mess. It was --

[ Dave can’t speak further. A bit theatrical, yes, but who are Jack and Eric to judge what’s important to a student. Eric slides his tissue box across the table. ]

Dave: Whoever did it, they were prepared. They knew what they were doing. [ blowing his nose ] So either they already have some experience messing things up, or they took the time to be ready.

This throws back to what was observed quite aptly yesterday, which is that Zay has been having some mysterious absences of his own.

Maya: I mean, yeah, I had to go grab him from the costume loft. Which was kind of weird, since people don’t really hang out in there alone, but I seriously doubt Zay did anything. I mean, come on, he’s Zay.

Zay: I’m Zay, okay? I’m not into petty stuff like this. I have no motive and you all know it. I’ve never been a monster diva. I’m just a talented bitch.

Sarah: His motive is exactly that. He’s never been on the same level as Maya and Farkle, and even though he was the summer camp darling, he’s still playing second fiddle to Minkus. That would drive anybody to action, especially since Farkle sucks.

Riley: There’s no way Zay would do something like this. He is the nicest person at AAA, he would never do something so needlessly cruel.

Eric: But you said so yourself that he didn’t go with you for dinner. That he wanted to take some time alone.

Riley: Yes, but… that’s not the point. When he said that, I doubt he meant he wanted to go vandalize the set.

Isadora: I highly doubt it was Zay. He’s just the third party suspect people throw in there so it’s more exciting. He has no motive, and definitely doesn’t fit the profile for potential insanity the way the other two do. The only thing he’s missing is --

Eric: An alibi. If you can give me concrete facts on where you were, then we can clear this and call your whole involvement moot.

Zay: I told you, I went to the dressing room to take a breather and was out to dinner within like, five minutes. That’s not enough time to cause carnage that great.

Jack: If you were prepared, it might be. People said you were difficult to find before you all were dismissed for dinner.

Zay, exasperated: This is inane! I was in the costume loft, Maya saw me.

Jack: But she didn’t see what you were doing. And the costume loft is the perfect place to hide some items if you’re planning to do damage, based on proximity alone.

Eric: Is there anything else you can give us to work with? Anything to prove that you were there when you said you were. Did anybody else see you? Anybody that can vouch for what you were doing?

Zay holds his tongue, obviously thinking. There sure is one option, but whether he’ll talk…

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Case in point, Jack and Eric are exhausted when they wrap up their initial round of conversations. Their takeaway is essentially the same as the class -- that there are two clear obvious suspects and then Zay, but without concrete evidence to his innocence it’s hard to give him a pass while they’re still investigating the other two.

At least, Jack states, they can effectively decide on a punishment. Regardless of who did it, the punishment should be the same, and it should be swift. Eric is a bit surprised by Jack’s rigid stance on this, but he doesn’t argue the point. There’s no point in stressing about punishment when they have no one to punish.

From their outsider perspective, this is going to be tough. It would be more effective to be on the front lines...

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Which is exactly what Isadora is thinking as she goes to find Riley. She pulls her aside, checking that they’re in agreement that Zay being under investigation is insane. She proposes that the two of them work together to suss out the true culprit themselves -- or at least, clear Zay’s name, since he doesn’t seem too keen to do it for himself. Isadora also feels bad about all of Dave’s hard work being destroyed, and if she can bring the perpetrator to justice it might get her back in good graces with the techies.

Riley is desperate to help, and the possibility of reconnecting with Isadora through the mystery is a no-brainer. She declares she’s in, shaking hands with her to seal the partnership.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “He Did It” as performed by Curtains Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Although Harper specifically instructed the juniors not to speculate any further, they are hardly going to listen to such a directive. When the cast and crew break for lunch, a series of hushed discussions further deepen the suspicions against our prime suspects. Meanwhile, Dave snoozes in front of the set piece, so protective over it now that he can hardly leave it.

While their classmates share theories, Riley and Isadora eavesdrop and take notes for themselves. They exchange eyebrow raises and inquisitive looks as they creep around the set pieces, aiming not to be noticed by their gossiping peers. Following along with the slightly altered lyrics in this case is a must for the full effect.

As the round begins and the accusations build up, the number comes to an end with Lucas, Farkle, and Zay being backed into one another center stage, their classmates mocking their obvious guilt. But which one actually did it -- if any of them at all?

INT. AAA - JANITOR’S CLOSET - DAY

That’s for Riley and Isadora to attempt to deduce. They’ve taken inspiration from the likes of Buzzfeed Unsolved and American Vandal, using HARLEY KEINER’S office as a home base to set up their mystery board and compile evidence. He assures them he’ll help in whatever way he can, just to give him a holler if they need his assistance.

Thusly, the two amateur detectives start putting together a more comprehensive rundown of the timeline of the vandalism. This includes threading together texts, timestamps, in-person sightings, anything they’ve got. They’re mostly focused on clearing Zay, but if they can narrow down the actual culprit at the same time, then even better.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Zay is less concerned about clearing his name, seeing as it seems fruitless anyway. He’s running through choreography with Charlie in their usual studio, the subject only coming up when the latter brings it up.

He comments on how harsh the accusations seem to be getting, wondering if Zay is feeling okay. He doesn’t deserve to be under the gun like this. Zay shrugs it off, claiming that people always talk. Still, it’s unfair, and Charlie clearly feels for him.

Charlie: It still sucks. Especially because you of all people deserve it the least. I wish there was something we could do, I wish I could help.

Zay hesitates, contemplating whether bringing the issue up is even worth it. But Charlie is looking at him, full of sincerity, so he decides it’s worth a shot. He starts to say that there is a way he could help… by saying that he saw him in the costume loft and he wasn’t doing anything nefarious. The only reason people are still on him is because he doesn’t have an “alibi,” so if he says something…

Charlie’s expression shifts in an instant, going from empathetic to wary.

Charlie: Are you kidding? No way.

Zay: Listen, you wouldn’t even have to say what you were doing there. Just that you happened to see me, maybe at a different time than Maya. Or even just that we crossed paths. Eric isn’t going to grill you --

Charlie: No. No, man, I can’t do that.

Zay: Why not? You said you wanted to help. It won’t matter why you were there, you won’t even have to say --

Charlie, sharply: Yeah? What is the only reason people go to the costume loft, Zay?

Zay makes a face, conceding this point. He figured this wasn’t going to go anywhere, but Charlie’s reaction is admittedly stronger than he anticipated. He’s pacing, breathing uneven as he continues to refute the possibility. He’s on the verge of full-blown panic, a wild look in his eyes as he repeats his refusal.

Charlie: I can’t. No. No, Zay. I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t --

Zay: Okay. Okay… okay! Charlie, hey --

Zay takes his arms, getting him to stop moving and look at him. He shifts his hands from his arms to his shoulders to his face, trying to get him to calm down.

Zay: It’s okay, alright? Charlie, look at me. You don’t have to do anything. It’s fine.

Charlie, breathless: Well -- well what are you gonna do?

Zay: I don’t know, I’ll figure something out. But it’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Okay?

Charlie gulps, catching his breath and nodding. Trying to believe it’s true and come back from the edge. After a moment he pulls Zay into a hug, holding him tightly and tucking his head into his shoulder. Zay returns the embrace.

From the way he holds him, it’s so incredibly clear how important Zay is to Charlie. How much he cares about him, how much comfort he gives him and how safe he feels with him. He can’t fathom losing that just yet… even if the chances of problems are slim, it feels like too much to risk...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Giants In The Sky” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Charlie Gardner

A bold transition from the soft intensity of his moment with Zay, Charlie’s eyes are wide and shining in the stage lights as he launches into this energized soliloquy.

Jack’s fictional dilemma of straddling the worlds of giant and mundane somehow perfectly encapsulates Charlie’s own current conundrum -- the pull between being a good Catholic boy, the perfect son, the world of “the roof, the house, and your mother at the door,” versus… well, being himself. Unapologetically. Without hesitation.

A world dazzling and elusive enough to be compared to the fantasy world of giants.

Much like his rendition of “Empty Chairs” from last year’s musical, the solo is bursting with emotion. Despite how he’s handling things personally, there’s no doubt that Charlie knows how to deliver a performance -- even when he so often fades into the background.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

The full Matthews clan is assembled for the first family dinner in a spell, TOPANGA LAWRENCE keeping up light conversation. Riley and AUGGIE MATTHEWS engage with her, but CORY MATTHEWS mostly keeps his eyes on his plate. Riley can tell that something is up, much in the same way she sensed the dread of the divorce before the blow actually landed.

Topanga doesn’t make her wait too long for the other shoe to drop. As they’re finishing up, she calmly explains that now that the divorce is nearly finalized, things are going to start changing a bit around here. Most imminently, Topanga is going to be moving out of the apartment and into her own place in Midtown.

Riley is totally floored by this development. The notion of her mother actually leaving makes it feel… real, like she is not going to be present in her life all the time any longer. She worriedly asks if Topanga is still going to be around -- is she coming to Into the Woods? -- but her mother brushes off her worries with easy confidence. She’s simply moving to Midtown, not evaporating.

Even still, the revelation is gobsmacking. Silence settles over the meal, Cory notably mute as Riley eyes him across the table. Topanga changes the subject nonchalantly, as if the impact of the moment has already passed.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Eric and Jack are still at school, working together to organize their testimonies and search for possible clues they might’ve missed. But there’s no clear trajectory, and both of them are well aware there’s a good chance half of the students are lying anyway.

Also, the fact that Jack is distracted doesn’t help. He’s constantly being pulled away from the brainstorm by text messages, his work-life balance equally present at school as at home. Although it’s not a crime to keep his girlfriend updated on their status, Eric isn’t taking to it well. He clears his throat to regain Jack’s attention.

Once they get back to discussing, Jack wonders why they’re still here anyway. Clearly they don’t have an answer, and what should matter is making the consequences of such behavior clear. If they can’t figure out who did it and give them the rightful punishment -- suspension, likely -- then they may as well do some sort of moderate penalization to all three prime suspects and call it a day.

Eric is confused by this perspective, especially coming from Jack. What happened to innocent until proven guilty? And furthermore, this is a far cry from the man who was so torn up over how to handle the removal of a student who was proven guilty only a few months ago.

Jack: Yeah, and how much good did that end up doing, huh? Everything is still in shambles.

Ah. So we’re not handling that as well as we thought. Eric starts to try and get him to talk about it, but Jack shrugs it off. The point is, when the time comes someone will have to face the music. Anne Marie is an attorney, and this is the kind of business she deals with all the time. If there’s no consequences, then no one will ever learn the status quo.

As the girlfriend comes up in conversation again, it’s Eric’s turn to react off the cuff. He points out that Anne Marie doesn’t work at AAA, and this isn't court. It’s high school, and their focus is on the kids and trying to figure out why they’re making the decisions they are rather than coldly punishing them for them. At least, that’s his approach...

Jack is offended at the insinuation, firing back that Eric knows damn well how much he cares about this school and the students. It’s not his fault someone has to be the authoritarian, because if he doesn’t, then chaos reigns as it has for the last six months.

The tension between them is palpable, and suddenly it’s as though they’re back in time. Arguing about the same old things, criticizing one another for things they thought they had moved past or come to appreciate. Jack backs off first, claiming this is going nowhere and they’ll just have to see where things go. They’re not doing anyone any good by snapping at each other.

As Jack departs, Eric settles into his desk chair. He watches where Jack left, shaking his head. Obviously not sure why he got so heated in the first place.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

As the last three days of rehearsal roll around, the mood is decidedly frantic. People have grown less concerned with who amongst them is a vandal and more so with being able to go on for opening night at all. The techies are running on overdrive to repair the set piece, which is no comparison to its former glory.

Amidst the chaos before another run through, Isadora gets a call. It’s from VALERIE DE LA CRUZ, who beats around the bush before regrettably letting her know that something unexpected came up and she won’t be able to make the show anymore. Promotion for a new project, or something, that she wishes she could blow off…

Isadora swallows her shock, playing it cool on the phone. She assures her it’s no big deal, and she nods along as Valerie apologizes and promises they’ll see each other soon. But as soon as she’s through with the conversation her demeanor shifts. Suddenly, all the chaos around her is too loud, too imposing. She has to get out of there.

She retreats and makes a dash for the dressing room hall. Lucas notices from across the stage at the stage manager’s podium, expression shifting from its recently adopted constant state of irritation. He passes off his binder to Asher offhandedly, going after her.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Lucas wanders at a jog through the halls, clueing in to where Isadora is once he hears her light cursing. He finds her a bit away down the hall, slouched against the lockers on the floor and hiding her head in her hands.

Instantly softer, Lucas approaches and settles down at a crouch next to her. She’s startled at first but seems relieved when it’s only him. Without even saying anything, Lucas reads her expression and gets a sense.

Lucas: It’s Valerie. Isn't it?

There’s no point in denying it. Isadora huffs, nodding and twisting a piece of her costume. Lucas drops down to lean back against the lockers with her, scoffing in distaste.

Lucas: I always knew she was full of shit.

Isadora: I know, I know. “I told you so.”

Lucas: No, I don’t mean it like… look, Dora, it’s fucked that she did that. And you have the right to be pissed about it. I get that you’re trying to, like, open a dialogue with her or whatever, but you don’t have to let her push you around. And you shouldn’t feel bad for being upset that she dropped you again.

Fair points. Tough to hear right now, but it is nice to have someone unquestionably in her corner. She nods, giving him a weak smile and taking a deep breath.

Lucas: … you know, it’s her loss. Her fucking loss if she’s willing to drop Isadora Samantha Miracle “Smackle” De La Cruz.

Isadora: [ with a small laugh ] Did you really have to use the full name?

Lucas: Yeah.

Isadora: Careful. If you don’t stop, people are going to think you give a shit.

Lucas’s turn to laugh. It’s a dry humor, flat delivery from both, but reflects something effortless between them that’s felt off-key lately. Lucas tilts his head and gives her a lazy smirk, causing her to roll her eyes. But when she looks away, she’s smiling too. Something might be clicking back into place…

Until it’s not. The peace is disrupted moments later as Maya flurries into the hall, heels of her boots clicking and voice almost louder than usual as she rushes over to them.

Maya: Hey, I got your text. What the hell happened?

Lucas tosses a puzzled look to Maya, wondering what she’s doing there. It takes him a second to realize her words indicate that Isadora beckoned her -- before she even thought of him. He immediately grows stiff again as Maya comes to crouch in front of Isadora.

The conversation takes an interesting turn as both of them attempt to occupy the space and comfort her, taking very different approaches. Whereas Lucas defends Isadora’s feelings and digs his heels in further about Valerie being reprehensible, Maya encourages her to take a more logical approach. They both know Valerie is busy, and there’s no way this is personal. It sucks, no doubt about that, but no use in getting so fired up about it.

It’s clear Lucas finds Maya’s level head in this situation ironic given her usual behavior. But more than that he feels extraneous, like he doesn’t even need to be there at all. And if he hears one more earnest defense of Valerie De La Cruz, he might projectile vomit. So he excuses himself, bitterly leaving Maya to take over the comforting.

Maya asks if there’s anything she can do, but Isadora claims she just needs a little bit of time to regroup. Maya gives her that, assuring her she’ll catch her up if anything happens in rehearsal before leaving her on her own.

As Isadora pulls herself up off the floor, she takes a long, deep breath. Then she adjusts her costume on her shoulders, the red cape on her shoulders reminding her that she has a major role. And she earned that on her own.

Jeff appears at the end of the hall, calling for her and stating that they’re getting ready for her solo. Eyes blazing with emotion, Isadora nods and marches back towards the auditorium.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Know Things Now” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz

Isadora delivers a great rendition of her musical solo, the whole performance alight with a certain edge only she could bring to the role. She’s channeling all of the frustration over how this situation has panned out, reflecting how she was tricked by The Wolf (Valerie, in this case) rather than listening to the well-intentioned but rigid sense of her granny (Lucas).

Towards the end, we see Isa leave the stage, her performance over, and check her phone. She has a text from Valerie on the lock screen, but Isa locks her phone and puts it aside.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Zay is touching up a piece of his costume when Farkle enters, the two of them making eye contact in the mirror. Neither of them say anything at first as Farkle heads to his station at the counter, but Zay opts to break the silence.

Zay: It’s fine, you can speak. Given that we’re both suspects in this shitshow of a crime mockumentary, I guess I hardly have the right to act like I’m above your complaints.

Farkle shrugs, claiming he doesn’t have any complaints. The moment this happened he was a guaranteed target, which may very well be what the perpetrator wanted anyway. He finds it more odd that Zay doesn’t seem to be doing much to defend himself, if he’s so innocent. Especially given that from what he’s sussed out, if no one comes forward it’s more than likely all three of them are going to be punished.

This is news to Zay. He scowls and slams down his make-up bag on the counter, fed up.

Zay: This is such bullshit. What, my classmates all decide they’re the Supreme Court and put me on trial for no reason, and suddenly that’s as good as guilty? All because someone had to have another meltdown?

Farkle: Well, don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.

Zay glares at him, obviously disbelieving. But Farkle seems serious, his lack of theatricality lending a weird credibility to his statement. The two of them have their stare down, searching for the cracks in each other’s facade…

When commotion from the dressing room hall breaks them out of it. Yogi darts in, out of breath and somewhere between thrilled and panicked.

Yogi: It’s finally happened. It’s jungle madness.

Zay and Farkle exchange bewildered looks, running to follow Yogi out.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Tensions seem to be at a boiling point in more places than just the dressing room, and from unlikely culprits at that. The progression of a scene has been derailed by a section of the new set piece falling apart, causing the nearly decapitated Maya to throw some choice words at the technicians. Jade and Asher have stepped up to take defense against the performers, and voices are already at high volume when Zay and Farkle arrive.

Jade points out that all the performers ever do is criticize, when the whole thing could’ve been fixed far more efficiently if they chipped in like they were supposed to. Asher questions if they all magically forgot everything they learned about tech last year, to which Maya retorts that maybe if the set design wasn’t so damn complicated in the first place, they wouldn’t be having this conversation.

Dylan, loudly: Hey, fuck off, beauty queen.

[ The assembled cast and crew reacts accordingly, surprised and somewhat amused. ]

Asher: Dyl, it’s fine, I can handle myself. [ to Maya ] Fuck off, beauty queen!

It’s clear the negative mojo is spreading like wildfire. Riley attempts to get the arguing to stop as Lucas jogs down from the booth with Jeff, questioning what the hell is going on. The performers continue to rail on how everything has fallen apart because of this damn set piece and now the replacement looks like garbage, and Dave finally snaps.

Dave: Well tell that to whichever one of you bent muppets did this in the first place!

Once again the blame train is running, only this time it crashes. The shouting quickly escalates and suddenly the scuffle turns physical, people launching at one another in a frenzy. Dylan holds back Asher by the waist, keeping him from going full scrappy. Lucas leaps in and attempts to hold Dave back from charging half of the ensemble. Charlie yells for everyone to cut it out, getting yanked out of the way by Zay before Sarah can elbow him on accident.

As Harper and Shawn rush in and start pulling people apart, Riley and Isadora zero in on a couple of interesting features to the brawl. Isadora is focused on Lucas, who has allowed Shawn to handle Dave and is keeping Dylan and Asher from completely throwing down with Maya. Something about the moment seems to stand out to her, just slightly off…

Shawn effectively halts the fight, effectively getting them all to head in different directions. He spits out a criticism, obviously over the tension.

Shawn: Have you all gone feral? Absolutely ridiculous!

Harper angrily declares that they all need to cool off and separate. They need to be back in fifteen, and the next person who causes any trouble is out of the production. Doesn’t matter if they’re stage crew of the star of the show.

Riley has her eyes on the opposite end of the room, where a security camera has caught her attention. It’s not facing the stage where the fight is unfolding, but rather a more promising angle -- a perfect view of the costume loft doors.

INT. AAA - JANITOR’S CLOSET - NIGHT

Isadora and Riley eagerly regroup, the latter launching into a breathless explanation of what she noticed. There’s a camera that’s directly facing the costume loft, which is what Zay’s alibi hinges on. If they can get access to the footage and prove that he never returned to the loft within the time stamps of the crime, then they can clear him.

They ask Harley for help, considering he is the local secret tech guru and likely has access to the servers to look at that section of the tape.

Harley: Technically, it would go against the janitorial code to share security intel with students just based on a simple request…

Isadora: We’re not asking to goof around, Janitor Harley. This is a quest for justice.

Riley: All we need is that one section. Please, it’s for a friend. A really good friend.

It seems like Harley is considering it. He gives them both an eyebrow raise.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - NIGHT

Shawn comes to find Harper, commenting that whatever just happened was a major clusterfuck. How the hell does she plan to deal with this? Feeling cornered and overwhelmed, Harper finally lashes out at Shawn.

Harper: Oh, how am I going to deal with it? I’m amazed you don’t already have all the answers. I’m shocked you haven’t already written down every possible solution I could offer and have some snarky, neckbeard rebuttal to every single one!

Shawn is stunned by the dig, starting to defend himself. Only Harper isn’t finished -- she’s far from finished. She posits that part of the reason everything is such a mess is on him, and their inability to work together. That’s on him, because since the moment she arrived he has done nothing but belittle and sabotage her and offer not one shred of solidarity.

Harper: I don’t know what midlife crisis you’re working through, Hunter. I’m sorry I’m not your beautiful, powerhouse girlfriend, and that I’m not here to have sexually charged banter with you when our focus should be on the students. But all I’ve done since I got here is try, and I know for a fact the same cannot be said for you. So before you dish out all the responsibility onto me, I think perhaps you should take a quick look in the mirror you clearly hardly bother to look into on a daily basis.

She doesn’t give him the chance to respond, storming past him. Shawn blinks, trying to absorb what the hell just happened. He glances at his reflection in the mirror wall, tentatively touching at his scruffy beard.

Shawn, petulantly: It is not a neckbeard…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

We’re close on a laptop, playing the security footage from the costume loft camera. The seconds are ticking by fast, the film on fast forward as Riley searches for the right time stamp. She and Isadora are leaning over either of Eric’s shoulders.

Eric: And how exactly did you get access to this again?

Riley: Don’t worry about it.

Isadora: A respectable investigator never outs their sources, Mister Matthews.

Well, hard to argue with that. Riley doesn’t give him the opportunity anyway, letting out an exhale as she claims she’s found the correct moment.

We’re looking at the doors outside the costume loft, the footage a little grainy due to the lighting and in classic conspiratorial black-and-white. As stated in his alibi, the three of them watch Zay duck into the costume loft. Riley jumps forward a bit, showing the moment Maya enters to retrieve him and he follows out a moment later.

For a second, the clip keeps running… potentially long enough to reveal another junior leaving the costume loft during that same sequence. But right before Charlie emerges from the doors, Riley pauses and jumps forward in the timeline.

The evidence as good as proves it as she lands on the time frame of the vandalism -- Zay never returned to the costume loft. If he was prepping something in there, they would’ve seen him retrieve it. Yet, there’s absolutely nothing to see.

Eric seems pleased to agree that the footage is pretty damning. He feels confident marking Zay off as a suspect. Riley and Isadora exchange relieved smiles, high-fiving behind their counselor. Then they rush back to rehearsal, Riley giving Eric a quick side hug before she goes.

Once they leave, Eric watches the clip back again to double check their findings. Everything checks out, so there’s nothing more to see… only this time he doesn’t hit pause so quickly. He jots down some notes instead, lifting his gaze just in time to see Charlie emerging from the costume loft a few minutes after Zay.

Eric frowns, reaching forward and rewinding to make sure he saw that correctly. He might’ve misseen it, or made it up -- it’s almost a blink-and-you-miss-it exit.

But no. That’s definitely Charlie Gardner, accounted for in the costume loft at the same time that Zay was supposedly in there alone.

He may not be a student, but Eric has been a beloved faculty member at AAA long enough to know the reputation the costume loft has. Suddenly, Zay’s reason for being there is crystal clear -- as well as why he couldn’t provide a compelling alibi considering the shock of seeing Charlie was strong enough to cause him to double take.

Eric absorbs this new bombshell, the frivolity of the vandalism now old news.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Harper has reached her breaking point. She’s in tears as she occupies the chair opposite Jack’s, succumbing to the pressures of an admittedly rough transition. For all the effort she’s putting into it, the impact she wants to make, nothing seems to be working out. Everything is just friction, not forward momentum.

Jack allows her vent, listening intently. He apologizes again on behalf of the junior class, and commends her for taking the initiative to connect with this particularly challenging group of students so seriously. They’re lucky to have her, even if they don’t realize it yet.

After she’s calmed down a bit, Harper thanks him. She tells him sincerely that he’s a good administrator, a sentiment that clearly touches him given how out of balance he’s felt about his position as of late.

Jack: Yes, well, I’m sure some of them would disagree with you. I’m not exactly the most popular faculty member here at Triple A.

Harper: From what I can tell, you’re the only reason it’s still running. Your unique combination of compassion and authority is what is keeping it from burning itself to the ground.

Jack laughs, thanking her for the support. Pulling herself together, Harper gears up to go face the beast once again. Before she leaves, however, she requests that when Jack and Eric figure out who vandalized the set, they let her know. She wants the responsibility of bringing them down -- and if possible, she wants them expelled.

Clearly, Harper is not happy with how her first production has been so drastically derailed. Jack nods along, still on his authoritarian kick.

Jack: Believe me, Miss Burgess, justice will be dealt.

She nods appreciatively, stepping out.

INT. AAA - JANITOR’S CLOSET - DAY

Mission mostly accomplished, Riley and Isadora begin taking down their investigation materials. Although they work in content silence, Riley takes the initiative to state how nice it was to work with Isadora again. To be on the same page.

For what it’s worth, Isadora feels the same. They exchange tentative smiles.

Isadora: You know, given how much of a mess things seem to be no matter what we try to do… I don’t see why I should be willingly giving up a friend.

Riley’s smile widens. Finally, something falling back into place. Not the same as it was, but better than nothing.

As she finishes gathering her things, Riley claims it’s a shame they weren’t able to narrow down the actual culprit. Even though they were able to clear Zay’s name. Isadora agrees, giving her a nod as she heads out.

Only as soon as she’s gone, Isadora launches back into action. She doesn’t seem at all finished with the investigation, going through certain pieces of evidence one final time and putting pieces together. Perhaps she knows more than she’s letting on…

INT. MAYA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Katy is up late, doing research on her laptop and looking particularly drained. It’s hard to see what she’s looking up, but a couple of photos appear to be buildings of some kind. She changes the window as soon as Maya enters, having just finished her nightly routine and picking up her pre-sleep tea from the countertop.

While she has her attention, Maya enthusiastically reminds Katy to purchase her tickets for Into the Woods when they go on pre-sale tomorrow. Not that they’ll sell out, likely, but Maya wants to make sure she’s front and center for her grand performance as The Witch.

From the expression on her face, whatever Katy says next is not going to be pleasant. She gently informs Maya that she has to work a double shift that night, so she won’t be able to make it. Things are sort of tight right now financially, and she doesn’t know if she can spare the ticket.

Maya nearly drops her tea. She doesn’t understand what the big deal is. Money is always tight, and this is one of her dream roles. Katy knows how much this show means to her. She already told her she’d be there. Can’t there be an exception? Just for opening night?

It’s evident that she wants to make an exception more than anything… but for whatever reason, her hands seem to be more tied than usual. Katy apologizes profusely, but Maya merely swallows the disappointment and says she’s heading to bed. But the darkness of the news looms over them, and perfectly sets the tone for Maya’s launch into her lament…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Lament” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Maya Hart

Maya spins to face the stage lights, in full costume and makeup for the glamorous version of The Witch. The only thing more stunning than her appearance are her vocals, cutting through the heartbreak of the solo like a knife. It’s haunting, setting the perfect backdrop…

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

For Isadora’s meeting with Principal Hunter. She thanks him for meeting her during the lunch hour, expressing that she thinks she has evidence that might help him solve the vandalism case. She explains that she observed some odd behavior during the fight that broke out at rehearsal, and it tipped her off. So she went back to look through the evidence... and things don’t add up.

Jack takes a look at the timeline she hands him, his expression difficult to read. He doesn’t look triumphant or pleased, that’s for sure. Isadora doesn’t either, simply stating that he should go back and look more closely into the student testimonials -- a couple in particular... but maybe not as a couple at all.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

This is how Jack ends up sitting down with Dylan and Asher, only separately this time around rather than as a given duo. As he discusses with each of them, under the casual guise of just double checking his sources, it becomes clear that there are holes in their story. The moment they’re not together to back one another up, their airtight delivery falls apart somewhat.

Asher claims that around the time of what would’ve been prep for the vandalism, Lucas was holding the door so that Nate and Jade could move a stack of wood; Dylan claims that he was with him unloading the Jeep. However, when Jack goes back to read the testimonies of Jade and Nate about their role in the supplies move, Lucas is never mentioned.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Isadora concludes her explanation, stating that the reason she got suspicious was because Lucas jumped in to stop the fight during rehearsal rather than join in or egg them on. Not that he revels in destruction, but if she knows anything about him, it’s that he never lets someone else take the fall for his actions. He wasn’t going to let the performers get roughed up for something they didn’t cause -- even one as aggravating as Maya.

She also begs Jack not to say anything about her involvement -- that she remain anonymous. He gives her a nod, looking back at the evidence solemnly.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - NIGHT

We’re following Lucas and his snapback from behind as he makes his way through the halls of AAA, there early to help set up for opening night. He knocks on Jack’s door, claiming that he asked to see him. Jack nods, gesturing him inside and to shut the door behind him.

The conversation starts off with their usual rapport and comfort, Lucas slouching into his chair across the desk from where Jack is standing. He states cheekily that they should probably make this quick, as he’s got lots of stage managing to do and all that. Jack promises not to take too much of his time, beginning a subtle and targeted questioning of how Lucas recalls the day of the vandalism. It seems like they’re simply still beating a dead horse, but he plays along anyway, not even realizing he’s being interrogated until about halfway through.

And by that point, it’s too late. He’s slipped up, said a couple of things that don’t line up with his original alibi or conflict with the other techie testimonies. Then Jack pulls out all the stops, the discussion growing tenser and quicker with each piece of evidence he stacks against him. As he starts laying out the timeline of how things really happened --

INT. AAA - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

We see it unfold in real time. Lucas taking his longer look at the treasured set piece, then ducking out of supplies haul and techie dinner to make moves. Asher and Dylan notice him disappear at dinner, but merely exchange a look and don’t say anything about it.

The flashbacks unravel with Jack’s pointed narration -- and Lucas’s protests -- heightening in intensity right up to the moment flashback Lucas makes the first dent in the set piece and begins the vandalism. Just as the screen is shrouded in black by falling debris --

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Finally, finally, Lucas cracks.

Lucas: Alright, ALRIGHT! I did it, is that what you want to hear? It was me! I fucked up the set piece!

The office is cold with silence. Lucas tries to hold Jack’s gaze until he can’t take it any longer, falling back in the chair again and tearing his eyes away.

Jack doesn’t speak with anger when he addresses him again. It’s a gentle disappointment, and admittedly confused. He asks if the vandalism was worth it, why he thought any of it was a good idea in the first place.

Jack: And I don’t understand… to have Asher and Dylan lie for you?

Lucas: I didn’t ask them to --

Jack: And what about Dave? Did whatever you were trying to deal with feel better when one of your good friends had to see their own hard work destroyed?

Lucas: [ almost inaudible ] You don’t get it.

Jack: You’re right, I don’t! I don’t get it, Lucas! So look at me and tell me why the hell you did this --

Lucas: Because it doesn’t even matter!

Lucas’s outburst is fierce, his anger more volcanic than it’s been all semester. Jack found a way to light the fuse and now he’s explosive, ranting about how everything they’re all obsessing over all the time is so stupid and means absolutely nothing. Why should it matter if a set piece gets ruined, when no one cares about what the techies do anyway? Why should it matter if his friends lie, when no one is even going to remember they were here in five years because no one cares about them anyway? It’s a stupid high school show, at a stupid fucking school, where his only talent is messing everything up because he’s a nobody who was never meant to be here anyway.

Lucas: So yeah, I did it. Do whatever you’re going to do. Suspend me, kick me out for good, drop me off the catwalk! I don’t care. I don’t care, none of it fucking MATTERS!

The declaration hangs in the oppressive quiet. Because despite the words he’s saying, it’s pretty clear Lucas does care -- from the way his cheeks are flushed, the way his voice cracks, how it’s almost like he can’t breathe. And the only reason he’s able to look Jack in the eyes and basically dare him to do his worst is because that’s what he wants.

He’s searching for punishment, because he thinks he deserves it.

Eventually Lucas can’t take it anymore, shaking his head and hiding in his hands. Jack stares at him, obviously deep in thought. He’s been preaching about the swift soundness of consequences all investigation long, and finally, the time has come to deliver it...

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

Riley is gearing up to get ready to go, duffle bag ready on the couch. Before she grabs it, she gets a notification on her phone from Instagram. Yindra has tagged her in a series of photos, featuring throwback pictures from Les Mis and a caption encouraging people to come to opening night of Into the Woods to see the same crew pull off another insane performance.

Seeing the Les Mis photos is a true shock. It feels like a million years ago, and as she flips through them again she can’t help but ruminate on how much has changed for the worse. Maya’s tantrum aside, everyone was in much better spirits at the time. She had a tentative friendship with Charlie. She wasn’t on the rocks with the techies. In fact, there’s a particularly cute moment captured of Riley, Isadora, and Lucas in the background of one of Yindra’s photos, prompting Riley to go into her photos and take a look for herself.

It’s all too much. The pictures with Lucas, the photos taken with both her parents, when now one of them is stepping out of their home for good.

Before she knows it she’s in tears, wiping at them frantically without much success. Cory enters from the hall, asking if she’s ready to head out until he realizes what’s happening. He jogs over to join her on the couch, questioning what’s going on and trying to get her to talk to him.

Riley shakes her head wordlessly, trying to catch her breath and stop the tears. She hates crying enough in front of people, let alone her parents. But she’s hit a wall, and there’s no stopping them. She admits that this year is like freshman year all over again.

Riley: Yeah, I’m no longer the target, but no one is happy. People that should be supporting one another are at war. And now my mom is walking out of my life, and it’s like… everything is falling apart. When does it stop? [ tearfully ] I can’t do this alone.

Cory makes her look at him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He’s deeply serious as he assures her that just because Topanga is moving out of the apartment does not mean she’s disappearing. And that aside, she is not alone. She is going to get through this, and be stronger for it. But she’s not ever going to do it alone.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “No One Is Alone” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Cory Matthews & Jack Hunter (feat. Riley Matthews & Lucas James Friar)

Cory softly leads us into the first verse of the emotional heart of the musical, attempting to comfort his kind-hearted, empathetic daughter (“Mother cannot guide you, now you’re on your own / Only me beside you, still you’re not alone”). For once, Riley opts to accept the comfort, leaning into him and absorbing the sentiment for all that it’s worth.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - NIGHT

As Jack continues to look at Lucas, something in his expression shifts. All plans and procedures go out the window as he takes on the second verse, vaguely insinuating that perhaps there isn’t such a simple solution (“Wrong things, right things / Who can say what’s true?”) It’s evident that he isn’t going to rat him out, and Lucas lifting his head to stare at him in surprise emphasizes how unprecedented it is.

It’s behind them now, but Jack’s continued words of advice serve as a warning to his wayward trouble-making technician (“You move just a finger / Say the slightest word / Something’s bound to linger, be heard / No one acts alone, careful, no one is alone”). He comes around the front of the desk and leans closer, Lucas hanging on his every word. It’s clear that he’ll protect him, but he can’t protect him against everything. He has to be careful...

Together, Jack and Cory go on with the themes about why people make mistakes, both of the moments between mentor and mentee feeling distinctly familial. And as the final chorus unfolds and Riley and Lucas quietly join in, a montage of small moments within other important bonds highlight the exact message that the song is attempting to convey.

Charlie accepts a hug from ELEANOR GARDNER as he heads out the door, wishing him the best of luck. AMBROSE GARDNER gives him a proud nod from his arm chair in the living room.

Haley, Nigel, Clarissa, Yindra, and Zay toast at Chubbie’s, enjoying a quick pre-show meal before showing up for call time.

Eric reunites with ANGELA MOORE as she shows up for opening night, giving him an enthusiastic hug in his office as Shawn watches fondly from the doorway.

The techie crew sans Lucas and Isadora is meeting for their pre-show hangout, laughing together and hyping one another up. They all give Dave a group hug, considering the production cycle he’s had.

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

The last of the montage moments belongs to Isadora, who gets a call from Valerie that she opts to answer. Although we don’t hear the conversation, it’s clear from the joy that takes over her features that it’s good news. She excitedly grabs Maya’s attention, sharing the news with her.

Although she’s putting on a happy face for Isadora, it’s clear something about the news stings. Maya chews her lip as Isadora gets back to the call, the believability of her enthusiasm fading.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

And as the song comes to an end, we’re back with Farkle -- who is, in fact, quite alone. Behind him, Yogi and Nigel are doing a quick costume change and discussing how opening night is going so far, indicating that we’re already well into Act II. Neither of them acknowledge Farkle as they head out again, although it doesn’t seem to faze him.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - NIGHT

He lets out a sigh as he heads back into the dressing room hall, quiet save for the light sound from the stage leaking through the doors to the wings.

That is, until he thinks he hears something else. He listens carefully as the sound of crying becomes clearer, coming from the girls dressing room.

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Maya is in there alone, attempting to stifle her tears. She keeps trying to take deep breaths and bring it back, but sometimes emotion demands to be felt.

Farkle pokes his head in, his suspicions confirmed. He debates entering for a moment, even almost turning away before he finds himself heading in anyway. Maya spots him in the mirror, letting out a huff and not bothering to reprimand him for being in the wrong dressing room. Her mind is far from that at the moment anyway.

Maya: How pathetic is it that a world famous starlet can show up on opening night for her bastard daughter, and mine can’t even skip one lousy shift at a run-down diner no one cares about? [ with a sniffle ] Maybe that’s karma.

Farkle approaches without comment, only speaking when he’s close enough that she could lash out at him and she chooses not to. Coast clear, he reaches into a pocket of his costume and retrieves a handkerchief, nodding to her.

Farkle: You’ll ruin your makeup.

Maya lets out a dry laugh, taking another deep breath. Farkle slowly reaches forward and touches up her mascara, dabbing at her tears and doing his best to fix them. It’s a surprisingly tender moment, a resounding echo of the way things used to be. And boy, does it ache.

Still, Farkle made his mistakes, and he has to live with them. Maya says as much, warning him in a murmur that this doesn’t change anything. She’s still pissed at him, and they’re not fine. He responds flatly, expressing that not once did he believe it would be any different. But he finishes helping her anyway.

Once she’s all cleaned up, her gaze lingers on him for a long beat. Then she warns him that he’s going to miss his cue, flurrying out and leaving Farkle in the dressing room. Alone once again.

He twists the handkerchief in his fingers, his starting vocals floating in…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “No More” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus (feat. Nigel Chey & Stuart Minkus)

Much like his rendition of “Javert’s Suicide” a year ago, there is a subdued melancholy that drives Farkle’s performances that cannot be understated. Wherever all his manic energy went, it’s been replaced by a powerhouse of emotion that hits at something raw.

While Nigel starts off the song with him in his role as the Narrator, about a minute in the visual shifts and suddenly it’s STUART MINKUS on stage with him. Another Farkle Minkus twist on reality, his busybody father suddenly sharing the song about exhaustion and abandonment. Truly ironic, considering the real Stuart isn’t even in the audience.

But clearly, he wishes he was. There are many things Farkle wishes were different than they are, but he’s powerless to change it. “Like father, like son.” As he gets to the final verse, Stuart is gone too, and all there is to focus on is him. Solitary, center stage, delivering one of the most wrought out and impassioned solos he’s delivered in ages.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - NIGHT

Jack and Eric bump into one another as they’re both searching for Harper, aiming to wish her congratulations before the show ends and they’re swarmed by everyone else. They have a somewhat awkward exchange, uncertain how to address the last time they conversed and it ended in flames.

Ultimately, Jack opts to take the high road. He states that he figures he owes Eric an apology, as he let his frustration get the best of him the other night. And, unsurprisingly, Eric’s take on the situation proved to be a little more apt than he credited him for. Eric hardly seems like he’s going to hold a grudge, giving him a bracing pat on the shoulder and warm smile as he assures him there’s no hard feelings. It hardly matters anyway, considering there’s no one to sentence.

Before Jack can confirm or deny this, Harper emerges from the hall. They both greet her in enthusiastic whispers, not aiming to disrupt the performance entering its final scenes. She really did manage to pull together an astounding show, in spite of everything that happened. A great first notch in her belt.

Harper is grateful. Eric excuses himself, allowing Jack to share his own early congratulations as well. She accepts it, then questions what ended up happening with the vandalism. Was he able to figure out the culprit (she hopes)? Although there’s a moment of hesitation, Jack informs her that unfortunately, no guilty party ever rose to the surface.

Jack: Suppose the kids were right to belittle our amateur detective agency.

Harper seems disappointed, but Jack redirects her attention and reminds her that she won’t want to miss the final number. She nods, giving him one last thanks before jogging back towards the hall. So Lucas is never outed as the vandal, leaving the crime to remain an AAA mystery for the history books… and the orchestration of our finale pulls us away...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Finale / Children Will Listen” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors (starting at 1:00)

We jump into the finale right as Yindra is giving her guidance from beyond, Farkle, Riley, Isadora, and Charlie gathered together at center stage and sharing their story with the new life that has entered their world. Farkle mentions each of them in his retelling to his son, the camera hanging on each moment between them.

As Maya takes over, more of the cast begins to filter onto the stage. As they reach the point of singing as a chorus, the message of the song takes on a stronger meaning as we hang on each of our main players. Focus on Charlie in the front row shifts to Zay behind him, halfway through the recitation of the lines “Careful the spell you cast, not just on children / Sometimes the spell may last past what you can see / And turn against you.”

INT. AAA - NIGHT

And the influence -- or lack thereof -- of family in their lives is paramount. Another post-show reunion with family highlights this well enough. Isadora accepts an overtly thrilled greeting from Valerie, although she remembers not to hug her and sticks to simply lauding her with congratulations. Asher and Dylan take a group selfie with their families in their all-black stage crew ensembles.

Farkle greets his siblings and mother, but the absence of Stuart looms large. Riley shares a tight hug with her mother, Cory watching bittersweetly with Auggie. Charlie chats with the full Gardner clan, Zay glancing over his shoulder towards him from where he’s standing with family across the room. Maya roams, uncertain what to do with herself.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - NIGHT

Lucas settles into the booth alone, sitting at the lighting booth and looking at the empty stage. He looks at the half-baked set piece, guilt more evident on his face than earlier.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

In spite of all this, the show must go on. The episode wraps with the last minute or so of the musical, the entire ensemble coming together to repeat the final chorus until Riley whips back around to offer one more “I wish.”

Sometimes people leave you halfway through the wood, Do not let it grieve you, no one leaves for good.

Well… we wish.

END OF EPISODE.

[cheymarieandherthoughts-blog]

Love & Myself

Valentine’s day is fast approaching and red hearts and chocolate and stuffed animals are everywhere.

Some people love the holiday, others detest it. Some people say it’s just a way for companies to make money, others like having an excuse to spend some extra time showing the person they care about a little extra attention. Well for me, I think it’s a nice holiday for those who have someone special, and if you don’t have someone, then take the time to spend on yourself. Relax, take a bubble bath, and treat yourself to something you usually wouldn’t. Typically I don’t have someone special in my life for this holiday so this year, just as in years previous, I’ll spend time with my best friend. We like having “galantine’s”, just a girl’s night on Valentine’s. Funnily enough we are actually going to go see a thriller movie (it’s a sequel to a movie we both liked). 

In talking about the big love holiday, I want to talk a little about relationships and dating. I don’t know about all of y’all…but the dating world today is the WORST. It’s so confusing and difficult to deal with. I’m such an old fashioned person, I like to be asked out, to be picked up and taken out on a date. Is that too much to ask of guys these days? I’ve even tried being the one to ask the guy out and plan the whole date and meet him there. Not only did I not like that, but it didn’t last between us for very long. I ended up being the one having to make all the plans and put in all the effort.

I’ve also tried dating apps. And let me tell you those are even worse. People these days are way too comfortable hiding behind a screen instead of talking to people face to face and so their confidence behind the screen is enormous, but then you meet them in person and they are either super awkward or overly into themselves. Now I do know some people who have had luck with online dating and ended up meeting their spouse on a dating app. But me? No such luck. And I also know a lot of people who have had the same experiences as me. I just wish that social media and the online world didn’t complicate things. If you meet someone you find attractive and want to get to know them better, then ask them out! Don’t play stupid games or wait around for the other person to make the first move. The whole “knight in shining armor” idea of a guy swooping in to sweep you off your feet and defend your honor is definitely outdated. These days you’re lucky if you can get a guy to respond to your text or seem interested in you at all because he’s just “so busy”. I’m sure there are some girls out there who are living the dream and have a pretty reliable relationship and a guy who will give them the time of day. I’ve just had literally the worst luck when it comes to my love life. 

Also in regards to dating, I am a Christian, as most people who know me or who’ve been reading some of my posts. And I made a choice over ten years ago when I was in high school to wear a purity ring and save myself for marriage. Of course this isn’t the “normal” way to be as people would say. I’ve gotten made fun of, bullied, laughed at and shamed for making this decision. I would say 95% of the time it doesn’t bother me, but there have been a few times when a guy I liked or was talking to found out that I am waiting until marriage and would just stop talking to me. Those couple of times hurt me because I thought that those guys were different. I have given too many guys chance after chance to prove me wrong, but every time I’ve been let down and proven right. 

People these days are too into the “I love them so why wouldn’t I show them that I love them?” Well that’s your choice and mine is to wait to share that part of me with the person I’m going to be with the rest of my life. And it’d be nice if people respected that rather than saw it as a fault of mine. I do not judge anyone who decides to have sex before marriage, just as it’s my choice to wait, it’s your choice to do what you want. I’m not someone who goes around wagging her finger at those who aren’t doing “the Christian thing” as some people would say. Because who I am to judge? We all sin, so I could point fingers, but guess what? I have three fingers pointing back at me when I point a finger at you. So what good am I actually doing if I do that? I have my beliefs and everyone else has theirs. I’m still going to love and support the people I care about no matter their choices, as every Christian should do. We are on this Earth to spread the word of God and to love others as we do that. But as I’ve seen many times again and again, just simply telling people they are sinners and should repent because they are committing those horrible sins is not going to get them to go to church. It’s not going to get them to read the Bible or listen to you share your faith. Listening to them tell their story and being their friend and loving them, showing them that you are there for them and earning their trust, that’s what could get them to believe. **(of course this isn’t always going to work, some people just don’t want to believe so don’t quote me on that)** Okay, now I’ll get off my soap box.

In 2019 I’ve made the decision to just focus on myself and my goals. I know that sounds super cliche, but the last couple of years I was so worried about not finding someone and being so alone that I became obsessed with it and ended up hurting myself and letting others hurt me as well. So I’m in a season of working on me, I’m letting God show me what He wants me to do. I’m spending more time with people who are important to me, I’m doing more of what makes me happy. I’m not looking for people to date, definitely not using dating apps. I’m just taking each week as it comes and planning trips with my family and friends. Although I complained earlier in this post about my love life, I  know that the past few years I honestly wasn’t in a place to be in a relationship. At that time I didn’t know that because I was too focused on trying to find someone. But God’s shown me a lot in the last few months and I know now that I just need to trust Him and His plan for me. And right now He wants me to focus on growing closer with Him and to stop worrying about my future. He’s got in all under control. 

So this Valentine’s Day, if you don’t have someone special, I challenge y’all to focus on the good things in your life. And if you have friends who are also not in relationships, y’all hang out and enjoy each others company. I promise that will keep your minds off the whole being single thing. :) 

*Do what makes you happy*

~Chey Marie

[r-cabrera]

Princess of Gotham

Chapter 16: Heroes or Vigilantes

"Is it normal for there to be so many heroes on patrol at this hour?" Cheis asked, walking on the edge of the roof of a building, pointing towards the street. The rest of us were sitting, watching as a group of girls in costumes quite similar to ours, tried to stop a car that was going at high speeds.

"It's not normal," Sound-Road replied, "Should we help?" he turned to look at me. If I knew it was one of Batman's enemies we would have blown up the car by now, but since they were probably civilians, we couldn't do much without at least flattening a tire and then paying for it.

"Let's go down," Hakan said, running to the edge of the building to jump off.

"Let's go down, let's not try to commit suicide," I scoffed, also jumping in the same direction as Rai, but not before preparing my shadow to break my fall.

Malowe, who had arrived a few minutes earlier, arrived downstairs before Hakan and me. Mike didn't take that long either, since he could travel/run at the speed of sound, he wasn't as fast as Flash or his pupils, but it was something compared to those of us who ran at turtle speed in Sports class.

The car passed close to us, almost running us over. Cheis, still from the roof, shot at one of the tires, unfortunately, this caused the driver to lose control and was about to crash into a building. My shadow would not be enough to cushion the crash, let alone stop it.

I turned to look at Parallel, who apparently had read my mind, and was already trying to stop the car with his telekinesis. The girls who had been following the vehicle came close behind us, while I picked up my shadow and Sound-Road approached to see the damage.

"Greetings, fellow masked colleagues," said one of the girls with a huge smile on her face. I turned quickly so I could see her face. The face of many of my nightmares. My companions only gave me looks full of confusion. "My name is Genesis, leader of Black Mamba. These are my partners: Nova, Agape, and Shayra," she pointed to each of the girls.

The first one wore a white suit with gold details and a hood, the second one wore a bright pink suit, and the last one wore a green suit. Genesis, on the other hand, wore a blue suit, with details quite similar to Nightwing's suit. They all wore black masks, but I could still recognize these figures anywhere. It was almost a mockery that they thought I wouldn't recognize those names.

"Eclipse. Leader of the Warriors Society," I said, shortening the distance between us, realizing that I was a few inches taller than the other girl. I stretched out my hand in greeting, more than anything else to cover appearances: "We are vigilantes of Gotham, Metropolis, and Star City," Genesis squeezed my hand, looking at my companions, who were behind me.

"We had already heard about you, quite a lot in fact, many criminals think we work for you. The... What did they call her, Shay?" Agape asked.

"The Princess of Gotham," said the other two at the same time, with a dramatic voice and exaggerated hand movements. It didn't bother me that they called me that, what bothered me was that they made fun of me because my father, Jason, had been the first one to use that nickname on me and it meant a lot to me. I let go of Genesis' hand and prepared to introduce my companions for the night. I shouldn't have, because they had known each other before but didn't know it, and I didn't feel like fighting that night.

"These are some of the members of my team: Parallel, Sound-Road, Blackbird, Hakan, and Pandora, my right hand, but I'm sure you already knew that. Unfortunately, I can't introduce you to the others because they are in other parts of the city, or they don't want to come down," I excused myself, pointing to the building from which Cheis was still pointing his gun.

"Wow, your little green-eyed friend is cute," Nova whispered in my ear, pointing at my brother. I tensed, for she was too close to me.

I took a few steps away from her and smiled at her as best I could. I advanced towards my cousin and signaled her to move away from both teams who were already starting to have a friendly conversation.

"They give you the creeps, don't they?" I hated that she could read me so well with that mechanical eye, I couldn't hide anything from her.

"No, this is much worse than just a feeling, we need to talk to Shade urgently," I said quietly.

"Calm down, we'll be leaving in a few seconds and we probably won't see them again," he replied, starting to walk towards where our companions were socializing.

"You don't understand the gravity of this situation, do you?" I warned, grabbing her robotic arm.

"I understand you better than anyone, but we need to keep up appearances," she argued, releasing her grip on me.

I stood there for a moment, trying to process the situation. I approached my team, signaling them that we should retreat to watch other streets.

"Sound-Road, report the damage to the base," I ordered when I was relatively close. Mike nodded and turned to contact Jim.

"Since when are you a hero?" Shayra asked me, again too close for my liking.

"I don't plan to share that information with someone I barely knew," I answered without turning to look at her, as her gaze made me uncomfortable, "Besides, I've always felt that the title of hero is still too big for us."

"So you are a vigilante?" She asked again. I could simply answer that I have not left.

"We are not judges or jurors in this crusade," I commented, almost reciting, pulling out my shadow to serve as a rope to climb up to the roof of the nearest building.

"Why are you talking about yourself in the plural? I mean, I don't think that's everyone's opinion" I was shocked, how could I let that happen? The 4 girls turned to look at me.

"Eclipse, we have to go now. Black Arrow and Callan are having trouble with some of the Joker's helpers," James reported. I thanked him internally and motioned for everyone to leave right then and there, leaving the other team with words in their mouths and doubt in their heads.

James gave us the exact direction as we ran across the rooftops, some faster than others. A few meters later I texted Poison and Scorpion to meet us in case the Joker showed up.

I remembered my father's warning, stopping near where Callan would probably be butchering those madmen. In my mind, I began to strategize where I would not disobey Jason and where I could help Batman.

I walked the remaining meters to my companions, ready to help capture the stupid clown.