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darkdevasofdestruction · 2 years ago

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Chapter 24 - Wǒ Qīn'ài de Húxiān Huánghòu

"Hey, babe, sorry, but I won't hold back. I'll try to keep from hitting your pretty face though. It would be a shame to hurt such a beauty." Rihito grinned flirtatiously, making Kisara gag internally. "Rihito. I'm married. You came to my wedding." she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Married or not, you're still hot and I want your number." Kisara groaned in frustration, not bothering to listen to any of Mokichi's professional commentary.

As soon as the referee announced the moment to take their stance, Kisara cracked her knuckles and adopted Agito's martial arts stance, waiting. The fight began, and Rihito sprung at light speed towards the red head - Only to find himself knocked out, on the ground. For the ordinary people with no experience, it looked like some kind of magic took place - But the others cheered the fantastic win lasting less than a minute. It was a classic Hatsumi Sen win that only someone as fast as Kisara could accomplish. First, she leaned to the side, grabbing his hand, or rather, wrapping her fingers around his thumb, gripping and forcing it in an awkward angle, forcing him to his knees. Before Rihito could escape with the aid of his other hand's Razor's Edge, Kisara used Senpai's Gathering Clouds: Triple Strike move on his face, hitting the glabella, philtrum and chin with such speed that he fell on the ground, knocked out and bleeding.

Kisara smirked, doing a pretty princess courtesy towards the audience, before getting out of the ring, and back to where the manager was waiting to congratulate her, along with Jackie and Joji. She hadn't even sweat, at all - To think that what a semifinal worthy of a Kengan x Purgatory Tournament... What a disgrace! Her fight with Wakatsuki from many years ago was far more entertaining than this hilarity. As soon as she got up the stands, she double high-fived both Jackie and Joji before slumping down on her assigned seat next to the foreigner who offered her another pocky pack and a coke can, with which she clinked to everyone's beer or sake cups.

"You made that look very easy." Jackie said casually. "It is, actually!" she smiled, munching on that pocky. "It's not." he said. "It takes years of practice. How long did it it take?" "Hmm... Let's see... About four years, I think?" she pondered over. "Ah, but don't think I was in any way athletic back then! Goodness, no I-- I was pretty pathetic and weak. I was still in Uni and studying all day, barely living on coffee and a light meal per day. If it wasn't for Ohma encouraging me to get healthier, I wouldn't have gotten where I am." she scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. "It took years to gain any ounce of self-confidence, control and discipline over myself. Hatsumi-Senpai helped me a lot in that regard. I used to be such an anxious little mouse before!" she giggled lightly. "But I got to do a lot of mountain hiking, which was super fun!" "You're just being modest, then. It took your Senpai years to perfect a move and learn how to teach it to you. Don't downplay your hard-work." Jackie hummed, nonchalantly drinking his beer. "You're just too nice, Jackie." she hummed. "Would you like to go hiking with us some day?" "Sure."

The second semifinal began with Koga against Ryuki, which was an exciting and thrilling match. Gaoh began with a fantastically quick footwork towards and around Koga using Setsuna's move, but Narushima was able to dodge before he got killed. Was Kiryu around, maybe? Could Ryuki be so directly influenced by Setsuna, all of a sudden? He wasn't like this a while ago, during the Kengan vs Purgatory Tournament. If Ohma finds him, an all-out war might explode. Ever since Ohma got his memories back, he's gotten so much wiser and level-headed, so grounded and calm, it was truly wholesome and heart-warming; Hence why, Kisara was almost sure that Ohma was protective over Koga, but also wanted to protect Ryuki from negative outside influence - In this case, Setsuna - Knowing he was just a child traumatised by the Inside, similar to him in many ways, but also, so very different. Tokita Niko and Gaoh Mukaku were definitely miles apart on the spectrum.

Koga looked almost helpless before Gaoh's fierce rush - Truth is, Koga wasn't tried to kill his friend, while Ryuki was actively going out of his way to assassinate him. He was dodging and evading, parrying and blocking, even a combination of Koei style Blink and Rakshasa's Palm. All of a sudden, Jackie got up abruptly. "Something wrong, Jackie?" Joji asked him, looking up at the man whilst still drinking his alcohol. "I'm gonna buy some more beer. Want me to pick up something while I'm there?" the foreigner offered. "Can I have fried offal and noodles? I swear, I could live the rest of my life on nothing but fried offal and noodles." Joji chuckled lethargically. "Are you sure you're okay, Jackie? You seem upset. Is the match boring you?" Kisara automatically got up to her feet, her hand reaching out to gently touch his biceps. Jackie looked down at her, his empty eyes boring into her beautiful green ones, and his expression subtly lightened. "Yes, I'm alright, don't worry about me." he placed his large hand over her her much smaller and delicate one. "For a fighter, you have very soft skin. It would be a shame if you got hurt." with one finger placed under her chin, he rose her face up. She was as beautiful as always, he thought, and without a second word, he left to the shop, leaving Kisara very much confused.

Meanwhile, Koga used the Indestructible, risking the Rakshasa's Palm rotation and punching Koga's face hard enough - He finally realised that the rotation is tearing apart not only the muscles, but the bones and nerves also. Poor Adam, taking the brunt of that. Even Nikaido, years ago. Thank goodness Master Gensai fought him in the next round and put him to respect, otherwise, who knows how many more people he would have almost killed. Ryuki got in a low stance before leaping up with two Air Rending Gaoh Style techniques in a row aimed at Koga's head - He combined the Gaoh style with the Koei style again, what a monster; He did the same with the Blink and the Earth-Crouching Dragon. Koga managed to land a beautiful straight to his face, sensing Ryuki fall to the ground, but he got back on his feet right away.

Koga used the Flame Kata - Raging Fire Dash, grabbing Ryuki in a low stance, and though he tried to pull the Rakshasa's Palm move twice on him, it didn't work. Koga easily figured out the spin goes from below the elbow down. He's got him all figured out. Ryuki used the Armor Clad, a technique similar to the Indestructible, to which Koga punched with with Ironbreak - Though in a twist of events, Gaoh used Swift foot, hitting Koga's torso with Setsuna's move, catching him off guard; Thankfully, the silver haired young man managed a semi-perfect Indestructible before he could get any real damage to his body.

Whatever conclusion both of them reached was unknown, for they engaged in an outright slugfest, using Armor clad and Indestructible. Koga combined the Iron Breaker with the Raging Fire, lunging at Ryuki with mad speed and strength, breaking through his defenses, sending him flying - But he went on ahead once again, smashing him with a Flashing Steel, landing a clean hit - Though his fists were massively bleeding. Ohma must be pretty pissed off that Koga hurt himself by using techniques blindly without thinking.

Who'd have thought that Ryuki would be beaten by his best friend, using his infamous Earth-Crouching Dragon uppercut strike on himself, the person he relied on the most, knocking him out instantly? Narushima Koga advances to the finals. As Kisara got up from her seat and walked towards the arena, she encountered Jackie, as if he was looking for her. He didn't bring her something to either drink or eat - In fact, he seemed to have bought nothing at all. Was he not returning to the others? Was he in a rush to leave?

"I need to leave soon." Jackie said, his hands in the pockets. "I'll look for you after you win this to say goodbye. That's what friends do, right?" Though a little clumsy, Kisara smiled at the nice thought. "Of course. I hope my match will impress you a bit more than the last one." she said, before taking his hands in her own. "But, Jackie - Are you sure you're alright? You seem really upset. Like - Really. Is something the matter?" Jackie looked down at her, squeezing her hands softly, but his expression didn't change. He looked as bored as always. "I'm fine. Worry about your match. In fact, that's why I came to find you. I thought of a way to evade any injury." Jackie said, gently taking his hands out of her hold and rummaging in the pocket of his jacket. "You said that boy knows your style, and you knows his. The solution is simple. Do what you do best." the ghost of a smile touched his handsome features. "Dance." "Dance?" the girl rose a questioning eyebrow, earning a nod from the man. "You've shown everything in fights, except your dancing. Wushu can be mastered through dancing. That boy is injured enough for you to be able to pull off a quick win." he noted, taking out a beautiful golden jade pin, ornate with flowers, and put it in her velvety carmine hair. "Achieve victory." he said in a more stern voice, turning around to leave. "And never fight again."

Kisara had no clue what happened, nor could she understand the peculiarity of her interaction with Jackie. Not only was he acting weird, but was also being overly familiar, speaking as though they knew each other for ages. But that accessory was very pretty and seemed veritable - She wasn't going to throw away a gift. Regardless, she had a match to win. She walked into the ring, and saw Wakatsuki standing next to Jerry and Sayaka at the commentator's table. "Thank you for being with us, Wakatsuki! Can you tell us what to look out for in this match?" Jerry spoke. "Well, if you ask me, Kisara's going to be a force to be reckoned with. I've fought her before, and she gave me a run for my money. That's not to say it's a sure win. Narushima's style is versatile, witty and strong." Kisara wanted to chuckle at his comment, especially as Koga was in such a battered state. The two stepped close enough to fist bump and grin at each other. "Let's do this, Kisara!" Koga said, pumped up. "Yeah, let's enjoy this fight." she stepped backwards towards her spot. "You should know by now though, I'm more of an expert in the Niko style than you can imagine." she chuckled, taking the graceful stance of a dancer, while Koga took the usual stance.

Dance - Jackie said. Alright then, let's dance for the Emperor. She smiled gracefully, knowing that her husband was watching, and as soon as the referee yelled the beginning of the fight, Kisara hummed the melody of the Lanling Prince in Battle song, performing every move that the beautiful concubine in that movie did. Though she hadn't a mask or a weapon to signify the duality of the prince, nor the war he was fighting, she twirled beautifully towards Koga, evading with ease his hits, and with the elegance of a swan, her palms struck him hard, making him reel backwards. There was not a single hit that Koga could aim - He felt as though he was fighting mist, or even the flowing water - Yet when she kicked him, she hit harder than a hurricane.

"Sorry, kid." Kisara apologised to Koga as she twirled, striking him hard in the face with an open palm hit, before doing a few pirouettes towards him, grabbing him by the chin, dragging him forwards. She then took his wrist, ducking behind him and kneeing him in the liver from behind, before twirling in front of him again, pulling him by the hand and doing a backflip, kneeing him in the diaphragm again, and graciously landing on her feet to deliver her last hit, her finishing strike: The Dragon Shot.

Koga was unconscious on the ground. "THE QUEEN OF THE KENGAN MATCHES STRIKES AGAIN! KISARA WINS!" the winner did a few beautiful moves as courtesy to the cheering audience. To think she'd actually win a tournament, isn't that hilarious? She sure had a ton of good luck. Was it an auspicious day or what? Ah, she's beat. She just wants to go home and cuddle Ohma to sleep.

She skipped out of the arena, looking for her husband. She found him, along with some others, who congratulated her. Jackie was leaning on the wall, but he came over just as Ohma pulled her in a kiss. "Well done. You fought well." the foreigner spoke in a low voice. "Now stop fighting." not only her, but Ohma and some others who weren't too drunk, or too engulfed in conversations looked at him confused. "It's a man's job to protect his woman. You had your fun. Now stay safe." "If Kisara wants to continue fighting, she will. She doesn't need anyone's protection." Ohma defended his wife's tenacity and resolve. "My wife will do whatever she wants." Jackie shared a short exchange of looks with Ohma, before his gaze fell on Kisara for the last time. Unexpectedly, he spoke one last phrase, in his mother tongue, before leaving. "Zàijiàn. Wǒ Qīn'ài de Húxiān Huánghòu." Kisara gasped, her eyes wide open, and her mouth agape. "What'd he say?" Yamashita asked, scratching the back of his neck in confusion. "I have no clue. What language was that anyway?" Ohma grunted, furrowing his brows slightly. "I think it was Chinese." the manager replied. "Kisara, did you understand what he said?" she nodded her head. "You have a weird look on your face. Did he threaten you?" "No... On the contrary." she muttered, pulling away from Ohma. "Find me outside in ten minutes, okay? I need to seek some answers." they needn't ask for words - They understood each other through looks alone.

Kisara ran after Jackie, all the way outside. She spotted his messy blond hair and she grabbed him by the elbow, stopping him from advancing further away. He hadn't turned around to face her though. "Why did you say that to me?" Kisara asked. "I don't know Chinese very well, but I can tell simple words like that." she gulped. "Farewell, my beloved Fox Empress. That's what you said, isn't it? Why did you say that to me?"

"Because that's what you've always been." he answered so nonchalantly, but somehow, Kisara felt scared like never before. She never once felt any kind of malice from Jackie - Why now? Why does she feel in danger, but also... Safe? That made no sense whatsoever. "Jackie. Do you... Know me?" she asked, feeling a shiver down her spine. "Jackie. Jackie... That's not your name, isn't it?" she bit her lip. "Jackie. Are you... Are you the 'Connector'?" The silence from the one calling himself Jackie was eerie and dangerous like nothing she's ever experienced before. "You've always been too smart for your own good. Your wisdom was wasted on a woman. Nobody listened to you." a painful sense of dread froze her heart. "They should have listened to you." Confused but also creeped out, Kisara took the pin out of her hair and analysed it. She might have known some words here and there, but she definitely couldn't read the symbols. "Am I a clone like Ohma and Ryuki, then? I couldn't be, could I? If Huisheng might have been taught and done for over a millennia... Now or then... I doubt I'd have had any worth to clone. So if that's not it, then... Then how do you know me?" "You are right. You weren't worth cloning, any more than anyone else, except for the Connector." Jackie spoke. "Are you a Buddhist?" Kisara was perplex at such a question, only to realise it made sense, in an odd way. "Are you trying to ask me if I believe in Samsara? Reincarnation?" he nodded his head. "I... I don't. Or rather, I didn't. With all this cloning and Huisheng going on, I... I'm not sure if I should let anything surprise me anymore." "I am many, though I am one. You are one, yet you are many." his phrase sounded more like a riddle than any answer. "Don't let them kill you again. Ruyi."

Kisara's eyes widened, shocked at the name she was given. "Are you trying to imply I'm Chinese?" "Once, a Princess. Now, only by thinned blood, yet with no less of the grace." whether he knew the effect his words had on her, creeping her out like that. Or, perhaps he knew, for he took a step forward, ready to leave. "Wait - Jackie!" the man did not stop; Instead, he spoke a single word before vanishing through the crowd of people, as though he was a phantasm that she imagined. "Shen", he said. Was that his true name, then? Or, at least, the one she interacted with. "Kisara." someone placing a hand on her shoulder made the woman jump in her skin with a yelp of shock. "Easy now, it's me. You were zoning out." "Ohma." Kisara breathed out shakily. "Let's go home. I need to call Katahara." "Huh? What happened?" Ohma's eyes widened in shock as Kisara threw her arms around his torso, clinging tightly onto him. "I'm still trying to figure out what happened. Let me explain while we go back home. It's... A lot to take in."

Kisara recalled the dialog and interactions she had with the man whose name may or may not be Shen truly, and she even researched the symbols on the accessory - Princess Ruyi - It said. How scary. "I want to ask Katahara and Wu Xing if they know anything about Reincarnation. I want to know how does the Connector know me, and why would he bother going out of his way to get so familiar with me. I mean, he's the head of the Worm, right? He's supposed to stay hidden, yet he went out of his way to befriend Yamashita Kazuo and Joji. He didn't hide away from you and the others either." she laid on the bed in deep thought. "He told me not to let them kill me. He told me to stop fighting. He told me my smarts were wasted on me for being a woman, because nobody listens to women." Kisara suddenly shot up in a sitting position, turning to look at her husband. "It almost sounds like the story of the Lanling Prince and his wife. She begged him not to go to war, but he went anyway, so she followed after him. Instead, the prince ended up watching his wife get killed in front of him. As she lay dying in his arms, her blood splattered all over his mask. You remember that show, don't you? Almost a hundred episodes - Though you slept through most of it anyway."

"Aren't you overthinking it? I mean, it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? Whether incarnation is true or not, you aren't connected with your past selves like the Huisheng bastards are. If you don't remember anything, it doesn't affect you." he, too, got up, cupping her face. "Whatever you were in the past doesn't matter. Right now, you are Tokita Kisara, my wife. You're a fighter because you want to, and you did a ton of things thanks to your intelligence. You've got a bunch of friends and your whole life ahead of yourself. Who cares about that guy, anyway? Besides, he had every chance to kill you, but he didn't seem hostile to you, you said; On the contrary. So even better. If the Worm head doesn't want you dead, all the best for me, I won't have to worry too much." "Since when have you gotten so wise, anyway?" Kisara climbed in his lap, pulling him into a tight embrace. "I almost don't recognise you for the stupid gym rat you were a little ago." "Shut up, you dumbass bookworm. I'm just saying - Don't bother with that guy. As long as he ain't trying to harm you, he's not our concern yet. You're worrying too much. I bet you're overthinking yourself to death now with all sorts of bullshit." Kisara offered a wry smile, feeling guilty and busted.

"Of course, you are right. I can't help but think about what he said. About all this. If the Connector dates back over a thousand years ago, well - Confucianism was a big thing in China - But then why did he ask if I was a Buddhist? Thing is - There are so many contradictions about all this. I mean - Confucianism rejected the idea of reincarnation, saying a single life was enough. The Connector is cloning himself, thus, continuing to live and relive. It's like a continuous Samsara, in a weird way, with no Nirvana. Buddhism believes strongly in rebirth until one achieves nirvana." she rested her elbow on his shoulders. "Shen said my talents were wasted on me, because I was a woman. He called me an Empress. A Princess. If we were during a Confucianism time, then the Annalects speak that women must obey their father, husband and sons after the death of the husband. Likewise, they say if a woman doesn't hold the "four virtues" - chastity, modesty in speech, neatness of appearance, and good needlework and cooking, then they aren't worthy. Women aren't important. Which would make sense with what he said." she continued with her ridiculous overthinking. "When in comes to Buddhism, I think the Sutras and the Jataka tales tend to contradict themselves. I heard that Siddhartha Gautama called equality among men and women when it comes to attaining Spiritual Awakening, but at the same time, there are writings that say women aren't allowed to become Bodhisattva and must have a good karma to be reborn as a man to have any chance of attaining nirvana, because they are seen as polluted with menstruation, sexual intercourse, death and childbirth. By this accord, I am fated to keep this Samsara cycle for an eternity, because I've sinned for centuries, and by bad karma is punishing me in this cursed body, unable to achieve Enlightening." she hummed, her eyes narrowed a little. "But then, if I was a weak, useless woman, why would I be killed? Why would he care? He's the Connector, and he admitted I'm not worth cloning, like everyone else except for him - So why does he cling to my supposed reincarnation?"

"Are you done?" Ohma had the most done with life expression on his face. "For now, I think yes." she nodded casually. "Good, because I zoned out a while ago." he scoffed, pushing her on her back on the bed. "You speak too much and I don't understand jack shit. Didn't I tell you not to use use smart words cause I don't understand? Everything you said is just a bunch of unimportant thoughts that you have, that's all. What's the point in thinking about a past you never had, when you're living in the present? Confucius and Buddha, and whatever anyone else thinks or believes in - You don't believe in any of that shit, you said that countless of times. So if you don't care about that, why the hell would you get so deep into this? Forget it." Ohma towered down over her, his long hair draping over her face, tickling her into giggling. "That's it. That's the beautiful smile I wanted to see." he placed his hands over hers, intertwining their fingers together, squeezing lightly. "You won a tournament. You made yourself proud with your hard work. You were great out there. Why go out of your way to upset yourself? We're living in the present - Remember what we talked about on the island? We're creating our own lives. Together." Kisara smiled sweetly, feeling her eyes sting with emotion, small tears slowly escaping at the corners and streaming down. "You have no idea how much I love you, Ohma. There's no one in this world that could understand me like you do. I'm so lucky to have you in my life." he simply chuckled, leaning down to capture her sweet lips in a tender kiss. "I love you, Kisara."

Days passed since the tournament, and with that, Ryuki's departure back home, to his grandpa in the Inside. Problem was, the summer ended, and with it, so did the connection with the boy. He was nowhere to be found. Of course, everyone worried over him and together with Retsudo, they formed a rescue party, adding Himuro and Rei, who would be great additions. Along with the manager, they gathered at Katahara's home, around a large map that depicted the map of the Inside based on satellite photography and statements from the residents. The GPS tracker placed on Ryuki had stopped responding around Rhoza district, so something must have happened around there. The change of the borders was always changing though, so they must have probably already shifted drastically.

Rei had been on a job there before, at the border of Rhoza - Apparently, Himuro was from there also originally. They say they keep putting up new buildings and apartments where there were roads the previous day, so it's a real mess to deal with. Ryuki was lost somewhere in the middle of the map, which was not a part of Rohza anymore, but a contested territory by all districts around. They were walking in the middle of a turf war. Not great.

Yamashita Kazuo remembered Ohma mentioning having a villa in Shiki, and he though he must have travelled diagonally, from one end of the Inside, to the other. Of course, that wasn't the case, he wasn't suicidal - He went outside the borders, taking refuse in Shiki when things got to shit in Tokita.

While they were discussing a plan, Koga had left to see the border with the Inside, trying to convince himself and find his courage and resolve to join them in their venture in hell. He even got to see a Seki vs Naoya fight, to which he was told a lot of encouraging words - Finally, he was ready to go.

They were leaving on the morrow. Himuro would be leading them through Rohza and Rei would accompany them until they reached the disputed territory. They'll need a guide through the disputed territory though - Retsudo seemed to already have someone in mind though, so things were good. Clearly, he was in it to get more info on the Worm - Smart boy. He'll become a fantastic chairman, just like Katahara was.

Before they left, Kisara, Ohma and Koga went over to Masaki at Toyo corp to retrieve their reports on the Inside - Surveys made by his supposed father were made from two years prior and what not. "Are you sure you want to come?" Ohma turned to Kisara, checking one last time. "Of course. I want to rescue Ryuki as much as everyone. Besides - I want to stay by your side, remember? I don't want a sudden repeat of a few years ago. Someone has to keep you safe, right?" she winked at him playfully, holding his hand. "A'ight, Your Majesty, protect me." Ohma chuckled as they traversed the thick wall corridor that led to the Inside, a desolate place abandoned by God like no other.

It almost felt as if they weren't in Japan anymore, with bazaars and black markets everywhere, soldiers, refugees, merchants, vendors and everything else you'd think of. Weirdly enough, Ohma seemed to be grinning, reminiscing about Tokita Ward. Weirdo. They went to search for some lodging for the night, in the biggest dump in the entire world - Kisara wanted to tear her hair apart from disgust, but she signed herself up for it. Well, at least she won't stay too long in this shithole - And Ohma led her and Koga to eat some pretty damn good ramen, though she didn't want to know what it was made of. He told Ohma that he wanted Koga to come over because the Niko style originated here, and he wants him to inherit Niko style wholly... But he said it in such a creepy way. "So if something happens to me..." he said, making both Koga and Kisara slam their hands on the table, protesting. "You're making it sound like you're dying!!" they both yelled at him. "You know about me and Ryuki, don't you? We're somebody's clones, and that somebody is after us. Anything could happen. That's why I wanna teach you what I learned from Niko, like I taught Kisara, while I still have the chance." Ohma's voice was so stern and somber that Kisara hit him in the head with the spoon. Hard. "If you even think about dying on me a second time, I'll never forgive you." she hissed at him. "I won't let him die, don't worry." the eerie voice of none other than Kiryu Setsuna made them all snap their gaze at him as he sat down next to Ohma - So close that he made him visibly uncomfortable. "Can you not make my husband cringe from how uncomfortable he is?" Kisara sighed, defeated. "Instead, tell us about Ryuki. I know you had your hand in making a killer out of him and losing his mind in the process."

"Ah, yes, we exterminated Worms together." he spoke so nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Well, it sort of was, in a way - For them, at least. "FUCK YOU!" Koga howled, grabbing Setsuna by the neck of the shirt. "IT'S YOUR FAULT! YOU MADE RYUKI LIKE THAT!" he continued shaking him violently. "Koga, calm down, you're attracting unwanted attention to us." Kisara coughed, looking around at the prying eyes. "Don't misunderstand me, Narushima. I never once ordered Ryuki to do anything." he said it was the same thing as what Ohma's doing, passing on his legacy to him. "Ryuki's going through a dilemma right now. He's between a rock and a hard place." "Is it about his grandpa's teachings, and Koga's resolve of not killing?" Kisara asked, earning an empty smile from the man. "You've got it right." he nodded. "I last saw him the day before he went back to the Inside. Ryuki said he'd come back right after that, but he's still not back yet - So I came to the Inside to look for him." "You said Mukaku's got safehouses all over the place?" Ohma asked, interested in Setsuna's knowledge. "Yeah, seems he made a lot of enemies. Ryuki said he had around twenty places and that's just as far as he knew. Ryuki's GPS tracker has stopped moving for the past few days, before stopping responding entirely." Setsuna explained simply, though he did seem a bit worried for his pupil also. "HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!" Kisara had to shove Koga back down on his seat to make him stop overreacting. "There's a good chance that Ryuki's found Gaoh Mukaku, and that he's in trouble." Setsuna got up from the table. "Wait, you think Ryuki's grandpa would hurt him?" the woman's eyes widened in realisation. Kiryu shrugged vaguely. "I'm going to look for Ryuki on my own. The Worm's in the Inside too. We need to find Mukaku before they do - Otherwise, they'll kill him." so it's the Worm they should be worried about. Then, could the Connector also...?

Early in the morning, while Himuro and Rei were up and ready for a high-level spar, a messenger came over with an invitation from the General, a soldier named Zhang who was buddy buddies with Himuro. To offer than a guide, one of them had to defeat one of his men - So Retsudo offered, getting in a Silat stance that Misasa would be proud of, and going forward for a few feint jabs - And when the enemy pulled out his knife, Retsu took his small hand-knife, stomping on his foot and slashing the enemy well, hitting all his vitals. What a beast, and he's so young also! And so cocky, teasing the enemy into attacking blindly - He easily parried a punch with his elbow twice, before slicing at his face and destroying him. No wonder he's about the only one capable of coming between Ohma and Raian when they're fighting.

Kisara clapped at the cool young man. "That was awesome, Retsu, well done! Misasa would be so proud of you!" Ohma, also, praised and high-fived him. Out of nowhere, this creepy, bandaged up guide appeared - So fast and silent that not even Rei sensed him. What a monster. He guided them through the district, towards the Underground, all the way out, in the disputed territory. Somewhere along the lines, Rei and the guide stopped, defeating one of the White Worms who reported directly to the head.

They found an abandoned temple looking rather run down yet still standing. As they walked up to it, they got attacked by someone, the main target being Ohma. Damn it, not again, Kisara thought, realising that her husband was always the prime target for everyone in the world. Gaoh Mukaku was glaring at them, holding a meat cleaver and claiming they were Worms. Thankfully, Koga ended up explaining everything. "Wait, you mean you're not Worms?! You should've said so sooner!" "You jumped us before we could even say anything!!! What the fuck were we supposed to do, you old coot?!" speak about a short-temper, Koga. Was it the youth? Nah, Retsu was calm. Maybe a fire sign? "Are you sure this is our guy?" Himuro sweat dropped at the childishness of the old man. "Yeah... No doubt about it. This old man is Gaoh Mukaku." Retsudo's voice was low, sending a tremor down Kisara's spine. This Mukaku was creeping her out. "That's MR. Mukaku to you, whipper-snapper!" Mukaku growled at him. "Is that really him? Are we so sure that this isn't Okubo's grandpa?" Koga glared at the old man. "Who's this Okubo? And that sounds like a slight against this Okubo fella if I ever heard one." Mukaku glared back at the child. "Well, sorry for stopping by unannounced. See, we're here in the Inside looking for Ryuki." Ohma finally attracted the conversation in the right direction. "Ohh, you're friends of Ryuki's? Well, Ryuki was here. I can tell you that much. He dropped by here about a week ago. I've got a couple Safehouses in the Inside, so I reckon he had a tough time tracking me down." Mukaku explained. "Is Ryuki still here?" Ohma asked straight forward. "Nope, he ain't here no more. You just missed him." Kisara didn't believe a word he was saying. "Do you have any ideas of where Ryuki might've gone?" Retsu asked.

"You wouldn't happen to be Metsudo's grandson, would you?" Mukaku was trying to divert the conversation again. "I'm his youngest son. We need to take Ryuki into our protection as soon as possible." Retsu tried to return to the point. "Ohh, you're Metsudo's son, no wonder I saw the resemblance." he stroke his beard, only for his eyes to bulge and start screaming. "Wait, SON?! What kind of stallion IS he?!" Kisara groaned, slapping a hand over her face. "DON'T FUCKING CHANGE THE SUBJECT!" Koga yelled at him, frustrated with his senile behaviour. "Hmm... Take him into your protection, eh? Well, he doesn't need any of that. I've trained him real good." he sat down, lighting up a pipe to smoke. "Are you crazy?! The Worm's not messing around here!" Koga yelled again at him. "Oh, I know. Ryuki and I have been hard at work, exterminating the Work. I let Ryuki fight in the Kengan matches just so the Worm could find him. Ryuki is indispensable to the Worm, so I reckoned they'd send their top men after him. See - Ryuki's a clone of this So-Called Connector that the Worm Worships." Kisara felt the blood freeze in her veins, and she turned her head to look at her husband. She couldn't see the resemblance though. Was she just awful with faces? It wasn't wrong, she could never tell apart family members based on their common features.

Kisara felt a little lost in her own mind again - She was zoning out a little, thinking of what Mukaku might know that could make her piece together some lost puzzle pieces. He knows of the Connector - Does he know him personally? And if yes, could it be possible to know any of her past incarnations? Gah, she can't believe she fell so deep into this ridiculous theory that she doesn't even believe in. That man messed with her mind big time. Rei said he took out a White Worm - If the officer was here, could the Big Boss be here, also?

Mukaku began a story of his youth, from many decades ago when he got in the Inside and took some students in to teach and conquer the place. Though he took a whole crowd of students, only seven of them could keep up - The Seven Nikos. He also confirmed everyone's inkling that the Inside was created by the Worm - The Inside was a huge ass Gu Ritual chamber, like what Agito had to go through, poor man. Kisara couldn't help but shudder, imagining going through that at such a frail age.

The Seven Nikos, however, began killing each other in the forest where they took a trip, until only two remained - Four, which was Ohma's Master, and Six, the Other Tokita Niko who taught Setsuna. Five and Six claim to had recently defected to the Worm, hence why they betrayed Mukaku - But who knows how true is that, really? Six used Five as an experiment anyway, so he was very much dead to this day. Mukaku continued to go around the country, destroying Worm Bases, until he found baby Ryuki, whom he adopted - Though he claims he didn't know he was the Connector's clone at the time.

With the story over, everyone went outside. Himuro and Ohma were discussing the story while Koga and Mukaku were chopping wood. Kisara stepped over to Retsudo, making a sneaky little plan, involving calling out Mukaku's veritable lies. At some point, Himuro got a got and left. When they were done, they walked over to the old man. "Ryuki has just been taken into our custody." Retsudo said with a straight face. Nothing ever betrayed his emotions. The shock of such a notion tricked Mukaku into turning his head in a direction - The direction where he was keeping Ryuki captive, no doubt. "You haven't killed him yet, I see." caught in his own lie. "His response just confirmed it, Ryuki's still somewhere on the premises, isn't he?" "I said he ain't HERE no more." the old man scoffed in annoyance. "Give it up, old man. It's too late." Ohma warned him. "Wh-What the hell are they talking about, gramps?! Is Ryuki really here?!" Koga screamed at him in disbelief. "I had my doubts about you, all along. From the moment you attacked Ohma, I had my doubts about you. I thought you attacked him because you mistook him for the Connector - But you didn't, did you? You tried to kill Ohma because you mistook him for Ryuki." Retsudo called him out. "Pesky little bugger. I knew I should've killed you when I had the chance." Mukaku growled menacingly. "Where is Ryuki? Tell us now." Ohma spoke sternly. "I don't know." he shrugged, sitting on a log. "But you do, don't you, you filthy Worm?" Kisara smiled enigmatically. "Yes, look at me. Get a good look at me. You know me too, don't you? The Connector told me all about you. Ah - Or, maybe I should say - Shen told me about you?" the aggressive look in his face as she provoked him made her feel small and terrified, but she masked it well enough. "You have no idea how much I want to see your pretty face contorted with fear and agony as you die in that fucker's arms. Over and over again. I get off on that every time I remember." Kisara felt a shudder down her spine, and she stepped backwards, behind Ohma. Retsudo saved her from Mukaku's wrath, telling the story of the Gaoh Style hoax, and that Gaoh Mukaku actually never existed, but that he was a Remnant of Wowang - The last of the five of the Syndicate to keep alive. Mukaku accepted that he was found out eventually, but wouldn't tell them where Ryuki was. Instead, he got up, stepping menacingly towards them. "I don't think you'd want to fight us, Mukaku. It doesn't matter whether you're a Worm or not. Shen is here, looking for Ryuki as much as we do. And you know what? If he finds out you've cause me any harm, well - It won't end up well for you, will it?" Kisara tried to threaten him, hoping he'd be afraid - He wasn't. He smirked instead. Shit, she only made things worse. He took a weird stance, and so did Retsu and Ohma. "I don't think your words are going to scare him, Kisara. Stay back." Retsu warned her as him and Ohma cautiously took their own stances - Only for Koga to lunge headfirst like a dumbass. Lucky him, Ohma saved him before getting fatally struck by a demon wheel, whilst Retsu went on ahead, slashing away quickly with his knife, but it didn't work. With his Adamantine Kata, Mukaku threw an Ironbreaker punch towards Metsudo's son; Ohma was there to shield him with Indestructible, but the two got thrown away. It was only Kisara left standing.

"Oh shit." she wasn't sure what to do - If Ohma couldn't fight him, she had not even the slightest chance of touching him. Running, though, as good as it sounded... Where could she go? Back to the Underground, maybe? "You're not afraid of Shen, are you?" she sweatdropped, hoping to stall him. For a single second, she actually prayed for the Connector to come over and beat him to death for threatening her like this. "Afraid of him? Ha! I'm gonna rip him to shreds! But before I do that, I'm gonna kill you in front of him - His face watching you die is otherworldly! It's the sweetest revenge I've got!" he lunged at her, making Kisara squeak, terrified, and duck under his arm to run around and evade his hits. To think she'd use her dancing agility and flexibility to learn Wushu moves and save herself from a fucking behemoth. Insane. Absolutely insane.

She should have remained in her bed.

"Stop dancing around, Princess, it ain't gonna save you. I know your tricks - I've already seen you die four times in my life!" Kisara turned to look at him in shock - Four times? How old is he? And not only that, how young was she that she died and was reborn four fucking times? "Hey, I know I'm pretty, but I don't wanna die young, okay? Gimme a break!" she yelped as she got caught by the end of her swishing long hair, and with a rough tug, Mukaku grabbed her and slammed her into the ground so hard that she thought her spine shattered to dust. Dust to Dust. Pulvis et Pulvis. From the dirt we are born, and to the dirt we return. Fuck this. "You're just a woman. No matter how strong you are, you can't compare to me. Not even Shen Wulong could save you." as Kisara was struggling to breath through the pain, forcing her vision to unblur, she saw the outline of a fist coming down hard, aiming at her solar plexus. Despite the vertigo, she quickly rolled over and snatched her hair pin, using it as a small dagger which she slammed into his face, slashing it diagonally, blood splashing around - Though he didn't seem phased, the accessory was in shambles on the ground, drowning in her blood.

"I don't need Shen Wulong to save me! I only need Ohma! Fuck off away from me, you psycho! I've got nothing to do with any of this!" she managed to evade and run back to the group, stumbling over her feet and coughing blood in her palms. "Kisara, go with Retsudo. I'll hold him off for you." with a shared look between the two lovers, Kisara begrudgingly agreed and ran with Retsudo and Koga in the direction indicated by Himuro who had contacted them. "Well, at least he said The Connector's name. If that is even it." Kisara muttered, still in pain.

They arrived at Himuro's location, at a small storehouse - Ryuki must be in the conspicuous cellar. As soon as they opened the doors and went down the stairs, the horrible stench of rot, death and decay made them all feel nauseous to hell. "What's that stench...?" Retsudo growled. "It's a deeply ingrained smell of rot. I doubt this was recent." Himuro noted. "I pity Ryuki if he's really here, having to endure this." Kisara hissed in disgust. "I think I'm gonna throw up." Koga almost hurled, but a single look up, and he saw his friend, shackled up and barely conscious. "You're kidding, right? Does that mean this smell is..." with the fire from the lighter, they saw countless bones, as if the whole cellar was made out of cadavers. Awful.

As Kisara checked for Ryuki's vitals, Mukaku led Ohma to the cellar, promising not to attack again. He affirmed that he was a member of the Wowang Syndicate, and it originated from the Worm. Wowang's leader, Dage, was an aide to the Head of the Worm. Dage went independent from the Worm on the Head's orders and formed a commando unit called Wowang. With this happening over 80 years prior, well - The old man was surely over a century old. No wonder he claims to have seen her die so many times. Wowang's purpose was to crush any organization opposing the Worm, and they were so strong that the leader got the ambition of a King and wanted to crush the Head. He began plotting to get rid of the Head of the Worm, and the absolute ruler of the Worm - The Connector, Shen Wulong.

"So Shen Wulong is the original we were copied from?" Ohma asked. "I'm not sure. You and Ryuki are almost like twins, but... You saw Shen yourself, he doesn't look all that much like you guys. Though maybe that's because he's blond and keeping his hair tied." Kisara thought out loud. "Tell us more about that. Who is the Connector anyway, and why does the Worm follow him?" Retsudo asked the right questions. "Nobody knows how long he's been around." he continued speaking of an old tale about a safe living deep in the mountains of China since the age of myths. The locals believe him immortals, most likely because all of his descendants have taken the name of Shen Wulong. This sage presumably was mostly harmless and barely interacted with people, though on rare occasions, an 'Aberrant individual' emerged, he says. Around 1300 years ago, when the Connector declared war on the Worm, he defeated the then-Head and brought the Worm under his control. He then started a total war with the Wu clan, who were long-tine antagonists of the Worm. They say he beat them decisively. To think that the Worm and the Connector have been going for so many centuries insane - Nothing ever lasted this long.

"So did the Wu split up 1300 years ago because they lost to the Connector?" Ohma asked, pondering. "I don't know what he was thinking. He might've even thought he was bringing God's wrath on the people who annoyed him - So we began getting ready to kill a God." Mukaku continued to speak of an ace in the hole - The Advance, the Possessing Spirit, was based on this thing. They waited for the moment when the Connector was alone to ambush him in an alleyway, but with undeniable ease and grace, the Connector created an outright bloodbath. A one-sided massacre. He swatted down the Five Kings like flies. With Mukaku being the only survivor, he fled to Japan, changed his name and the whole things with the Nikos went on, and he even did Gu Rituals and what not.

"You knew Ryuki was a clone, didn't you? That's why you took him in." Kisara pointed out. "Yeah, of course. The current Shen Wulong is a clone of his predecessor. The Worm's been engaging in cloning research, in order to make a more perfect 'Connector'. I attacked a Worm cloning research facility and destroyed it. For whatever reason, most attempts to clone Shen Wulong ended in failure. There haven't been any new clones since I destroyed that facility. Which means that Ryuki is the last existing clone. Funny, right? They'll want Ryuki back at any cost. That's why I sent Ryuki to the Kengan Association and had him announce his location to them. Thanks to him, I can kill Shen Wulong this time around! He's made the perfect bait!" though Mukaku was smug, it was Kisara's turn to laugh at him mockingly, all while Koga was so angry that he was trying to punch the old man.

"You? Beat Shen? Ha! Prostrating King, you say - You're nothing but an old man who wants revenge, that's what you are. Shen's going to swipe the floor with you. Oh - Maybe it is that you get off on being beaten up by him, huh? Is that it?" she taunted him - He deserved it after the pain he caused her. "You little shit..." the man growled, glaring down at her. Ohma had to hold Koga back before he'd overheat from intense rage and bust his fists again. "Grandpa... You... Were you just using me...?" Ryuki's betrayed voice made Kisara's heart weep. "Huh? Why else would I keep you around?" the disgust and indifference in his voice earned him a punch in the face from Kisara, who went then to boy to hold him in her arms as if he was her child. "The only reason you're still alive today is 'cause you're the clone of the Connector. That piece of shit wants you back no matter what. Then again, I find it hard to believe - How can a weakling like you be one of his clones, huh? What a failure the last clone turned out to be."

"Look at yourself. You've been alive for a century and still can't get anywhere near Shen's level. Pathetic." Kisara hissed at him harshly. "I understand. You're not my grandpa anymore." Ryuki spoke, defeated, feeling the woman's arms holding him in warm and loving embrace like he's never experienced in his entire life. As they helped the boy get out of the cellar, Ryuki told them how his grandpa punched him out of nowhere, imprisoning him in hopes of re-educating him. What a mad man. As they were discussing about what happened, Ohma spoke about wanting to get the hell away from that god-awful place. Though he's seen plenty of strong people, his power was unfathomable and he doesn't want anything to do with him ever again. "Oh, wait - Can you wait a second? I hair pin - It fell to the ground back at the temple. Do you mind if I go quickly to retrieve it?" Kisara stopped abruptly in her tracks. "Are you sure? You can get another. It's dangerous around that bastard." Ohma warned her, though he could see the conflict in her eyes. "You're not returning for the pin, are you?" "I have a weird feeling in my gut. Does that make sense?" Ohma sighed, nodding his head. "Alright, fine. We'll wait here, but don't take long. If you're not back in 10, I'm coming over for you." Kisara grinned, kissing his cheek. "I'll back before 10."

----

If only they knew that just as they were escaping, none other than Shen Wulong visited this damn fraud, looking as calm as ever. "Gaoh Mukaku. I want you to give 'Me' back." Shen ordered leisurely. "You nitwit, you're too late. I got rid of your clone a long time ago. My condolences!" Mukaku cackled at him tauntingly. "You're lying." Shen affirmed. "That's not the kind of man you were in my memories. You wouldn't get rid of a bargaining chip for no reason. You'd use any means at your disposal to survive. I remember you well. You used your comrades as shields just so you'd survive. I'm somewhat impressed by how attached to life you are."

"Haha, guess you really love me, huh? But now I'm just the fraud founder of a phony martial art. But what's wrong with being a fraud? I don't give a damn who I am, as long as I can kill you!" Mukaku laughed, bumping the ends of his arm guards. "Is that so?" Shen sighed, crouching to the ground and picking up the broken hair accessory from the ground. The ornaments on it were scattered in the blood, but it was nothing that couldn't be repaired. Though he wasn't one to get emotional, Shen felt rather pissed off. "You're going to die." he said, comparing himself to the immune system of a single large organism. "I can hear the earth telling me to eliminate you."

Mukaku thought he slashed in two at the Connector, he missed entirely without him even moving at all. He tried multiple tricks, activating booby traps planted throughout the temple, using swift assassination methods, but Shen threw him of with the flick of a single finger. "You're strong, I admit. I assume only a handful of the people close to me would be able to beat you." Mukaku hid inside the temple. "Hey, I haven't finished complimenting you yet. The first backhand punch was a good move. You drew my attention to your gauntlets while throwing iron pellets at me, and those were pretty powerful. They could kill a man if they landed right." he said nonchalantly, not bothering to move an inch. "Splintering the wall to blind me was a good move, too. Personally, I would've thrown in a few iron pellets in the splinters - If they landed, that's a few free hits." Mukaku was angry beyond belief. "You pretended you'd face me with martial arts only to use hidden weapons, duck and hide, sneak around and scheme. You were prepared for me, weren't you? I admire your tenacity."

Through the thin wall of the temple, Mukaku tried to impale Shen with a lance - The tip of it, of course, was pinched easily between his fingers. "Very meticulous. You should be long past your physical prime by now. I assume you're doping to make up for your declining muscles and reflexes, aren't you? It's a miracle that you're alive at your age." he spoke simply. "But that is one fortune that Ruyi was never blessed with." Mukaku could feel his heart stop in fear. He fucked up. "No, no, don't worry, it's not just for today, but for every time you hurt her, that I'm going to enjoy playing with you." Mukaku was unable to say a single thing, watching how easy it was for the Connector to pinch the blade away. "Ah, just so we're clear, I don't have Superman Syndrome. This isn't about power, it's about technique. One second thought, maybe even that's not the right word either. Principles? Yeah sounds right - All I'm doing is holding down the point of the force - Anyone can do that if they know how it works. No, wait, maybe Ruyi couldn't. I wouldn't want her to cut her delicate hands. She always gets papercuts." he hummed out of nowhere, as the long handle of the spear broke, and he smirked. "I'm so angry that I want to play with you a bit longer. I'll give you the chance to kill me."

He's just getting more and more dangerous, Mukaku realised, freaking out - What the hell kind of monster is he anyway? "Hmm, will this do?" Shen hummed, cracking his fingers. "I've relocated my tendons and suppressed my muscle power output. I also limited my joints' range of motions. I brought my neuro-transmission speed down to the lowest setting and shut down some of my brain's circuits." Shen smiled, ready to destroy the man before him. "I've come down to your level. Let me enjoy this moment. Don't die yet, okay?" with that, Shen punched Mukaku the hell away from him. Mukaku tried again to get up and attack, but was struck down with a simple arm sweep. "Too slow. Your body's awfully sluggish - You're almost not worth killing. Are these your senses in action? They must be a real handicap." Mukaku kicked a loose board from the ground, hitting Wulong in the chin and trying to beat him down into the ground with the Ironbreaker, only to get sent flying by the man who easily liberated himself. "Not bad, not bad at all, Mukaku." Shen smirked, wiping the blood off his face. "You wanna have another go? Or should I end this already?" he dug his hands in his pockets once again. "Hmm, I'm picking up an exceptional hatred from you - Shouldn't that be the other way around? I know what you've done today. But choice, really." he hummed, not twitching a single muscle. "Maybe you hate my former self for killing your comrades in Wowang? But I thought they were just total strangers to you." "Before that. Dig a little deeper into you memories." Mukaku struggled to speak between his panting. "Hmmm~?" after a few seconds of deep thinking and pondering, Wulong finally gasped theatrically with a lightbulb realisation. "You're that boy!" Mukaku's vendetta against Shen Wulong started in China, about 85 years ago.

The Connector once had three groups under his command - The Worm, the Westward Faction and the Dragon Tribe, who were descendants of Long Min, the Hero of the Chu Kingdom in the Spring and Autumn period. They were friends, sharing the same name of the dragon, yet Shen Wulong felt betrayed. Long Yi disagreed with the Worm research involving the cloning - Though he didn't mind the Huisheng reincarnations. Cloning is a violation of the natural order, a heresy. Shen Wulong didn't want to kill his friend - All of the Dragon Tribe was already dead. Of course, the old friend wasn't going to retreat, that was the way of the general. He allowed Long Yi to attack while his back was turned, but just like the others, he fell dead, to the ground, with a single strike. In spite of his quick death, Long Yi managed to leave Wulong's first injury in years. The only man left standing was Long Xiu, a young warrior of 15 years old, who would later be known as Gaoh Mukaku. Long Xiu was Long Yi's grandson. It was then that the current Shen Wulong realised that the Wowang Syndicate conspired against him, all instigated by Mukaku.

"Yi was a good man, but he made one mistake - He didn't kill a bastard like you." Mukaku attacked him with the Long clan secret technique, Dragon's Maw Fist, but of course, it did nothing. "Awe, man, you're a real two-timer." "Oh shut up, fuck-wit!! I'd turn to the Gods and the Demons if they'd help me kill you!!" Mukaku growled at him. "Aaaaand you've lost me. I've had enough of this." Shen rolled his eyes, bored out of his mind with his repetitive antics. All of a sudden, a rustle was heard, and a few soft footsteps followed. "Hey, psycho geezer, did you steal my pin? I know I used it to slash your face, but - You've gotta hand it to me, it's your fault you attacked me! I just defended myself! ... My spine still hurts like hell though. If I need spine surgery because of you, I'll sue you for ten generations." Shen's eyes widened, and he turned his head to see the beautiful young woman struggling to step through the rubbles of the destroyed temple. As soon as she rose her head to look for the old man, she saw not only him, but Shen also - The shock and fright were evident on her face, and she looked like a deer surrounded by predators. "I... Should not have returned. I, uh... I-... I'll leave. Bye!" panicked, she tried to leave the temple immediately - She was, thankfully, just at the entrance, though even there, she unknowingly stepped on a trap that would be slashed her to fish-bite pieces, were it not for a strong force tackling her to the ground. "Sh-Shen...?" she gulped, feeling his strong arms keeping her safe and shielded from danger. Looking up, she saw the overly sharp piano wires that would have easily cut her in pieces as if she was a Happy Tree Friends character. "Oh my god, you psycho, what the hell is this?! You almost killed me - Again!" her body's reaction was to spring away from Wulong's arms and run the hell away - But he didn't let her.

"I can't believe my bait returned willingly. You thought yourself smart, but you died a fucking dumbass each and every time. It's your fault you died, you know? And his, for not protecting you." Mukaku put on a gas mask and readied his sword. "I almost shattered your spine, and you return for a hair pin? Ha! You deserve to die, woman." Kisara squeaked in fear as Mukaku, with incredible swiftness, brought down the sword, ready to slash her and Shen where they stood - But somehow, defying the laws of physics was a regular thing for the Connector, who kept her safe, held by one arm to his chest, his hand placed over her mouth and nose as if to prevent her from breathing, while the other hand caught the blade. "Terrible decision, really." Shen glared at Mukaku. "Not even close." "Yeah, you're right - But this should do the trick!" Mukaku used Indestructible on the blade, cutting Wulong's hand into bleeding. "Shen - You're bleeding! Let go of the blade!" Kisara managed to speak through his fingers.

"Don't worry about me. Try to keep from breathing as much as you can. This cheap bastard flooded the room with Carbon Monoxide. It's just one thing after another." as instructed, Kisara picked up the handkerchief from her sleeve and pressed it to his face to help him with the breathing."Very kind of you - But I'm fine. I don't need to breathe. Use it for yourself, Ruyi." Shen told Mukaku that the man who killed his clan was his previous iteration, and some illogical shit about stopping the breathing process, to slow the aging process. He then easily got up, throwing away the sword and kicking him in the face. "Did you seriously think you could outdo us? How asinine." Shen used the sword to impale Mukaku's shoulder. "Running away? You don't have that privilege anymore. I told you - I've grown tired of you." "Are you sure you wanna kill me?! If I die, Ryuki dies too! I'm the only one who knows where he is! Are you just gonna let yourself die?!" Mukaku spat, desperate to live. "Ryuki's safe with us! Stop lying, you jerk!" Kisara soon started coughing - The Monoxide was beginning to take effect. "How come you're so obsessed over Ryuki anyway?! Ain't Tokita Ohma one of your clones too?! Why does it gotta be Ryuki?!" Mukaku was, no doubt, trying to prolong his suffering. "Hey, don't you dare bring my husband into this! He already died once, I don't need you getting him in another situation, you bastard!" Kisara hissed at him. "Besides - Don't act as if you ever cared for Ryuki! You're just an evil man. A traitor." "Oh man. Yan's gonna give me hell for everything I've done lately. Well - You're gonna be dead anyway, so there's no harm in telling you!" Shen sighed in realisation. "W-Wait! Don't say it! I don't want to die because of his curiosity!" the woman stepped backwards, gulping slightly. "...Don't worry. I don't think you'd get it, even if I told you." he smiled condescendingly down at Mukaku. "Tokita Ohma... Is not me." "HUH?!" Mukaku was on the ground, bleeding heavily. "Wait, hold the GODDAMN PHONE! What the hell are you talking about?! You can't expect me to believe that bullshit! I mean - Have you seen the guy?! He's the spitting image of Ryu...?!" Gaoh gasped loudly, as Shen was vibing with a dark, killing aura. "Yeah, I think you've figured it out by now." with an effortless swing of his wrist, Shen snapped Mukaku into pieces. "So die." Kisara had to jump back behind Shen, so all the blood wouldn't splatter on her. "Three times. You're the first person who's made three attempts on my life, and on Ruyi's. Looks like third time wasn't the charm, after all."

Shen turned around, throwing away the blade, looking down at the woman who looked uncomfortable and outright fearing him. "Ruyi." he called out, before quickly correcting himself. "No, sorry - You're called Kisara now, right? Kisara. I won't mistake it again." he gently put a finger under her chin, raising it up to make her look at him. "What do you see?" Though he could see the fear in her eyes, there was also deep confusion, and he couldn't blame her. There were far too many things to find out, in a single day, out of which few made sense. "I still don't think you look like Ohma at all." the comment earned a small huff of amusement from him. "So... Are you going to kill me, now that I know your secret about Ohma?" Shen didn't say anything - Instead, he retriever the pin from his pocket, along with all the broken accessories. "Did it save you?" Though Kisara had no idea why he'd change the subject like that, she nodded nonetheless. "Yeah. I... I used your name to get a rise out of him, hoping he'd tell us where Ryuki was without a fight. But, uhm... He threatened to use me as bait and kill me in front of you. For the... Fifth time, he said. Or, uh... Maybe he just meant he knew I died four times during his life. I'm not sure. He was weird." he uncomfortably scratched the back of her neck. "I was weak. I couldn't evade his attacks and he grabbed me. Slammed be to the ground, tried to punch my guts out. Before he could though, I slashed away at his face and ran away." she hung her head down, feeling guilty looking at the beautiful yet broken accessory. "I'm sorry. I know it must have meant a lot for you, and I broke it." "A pin isn't worth more than your life, silly girl." he spoke with an amused tone. "I'll just get it repaired and return it. It's yours, not mine."

"But, Shen - It means nothing to me. Ruyi means nothing to me. Maybe you believe that it's my reincarnation, in the real sense, not the Huisheng sense - But even so, you're the only one who knows of Ruyi, and... All my supposed past selves." she explained softly. "That could be solved. I remember every incarnation you had - Or at least those who managed to live past a certain age. Unfortunately, there weren't all that many." Kisara looked down, feeling a weird pang of pain in her chest. "I have to go, Shen. I'm sorry." she looked into his eyes. "I will accept the pin, if you want me to have it... And I'll keep the secret to myself, even though I didn't understand it at all. I don't want to die, but more than that, I don't want Ohma, nor my friends to die." she sighed, extending her hand towards him. "But Shen - I am married. And I love Ohma more than I love life itself." Instead of looking or even emanating anger or any negative emotion, Shen smiled, placing the pin in her hand, closing it for her. "As long as you're happy."

A loud gasp of complete and utter shock resounded through the desolated temple, and a man who looked similar, but much prettier than Xia Ji was looking at the two with huge eyes. Realising he was someone strong and important to the Worm, Kisara instinctively tried to step away, only for her back to his Shen's.

"What's wrong, Yan? Cat got your tongue?" Shen asked, oblivious. "Oh, come on, gimme a break! How'd you get injured?!" this Yan crumbled to the ground, having a mental crisis. "Something weighing you down?" Shen asked, even more confused. "You are, you moron." Yan groaned pitifully. "U-Uhm... Mr. Yan?" Kisara spoke in a mousy voice. "Shen got injured because of me. Forgive me." she crouched to his level, putting a gentle hand on his arm and helping him up. "After all the shit he's pulled over the years, this is how he ends up. Pathetic." that man, the Other Tokita Niko, gruffed at Mukaku's corpse. "Oh no, what have you done?! What's with her?!" Yan's overreaction made her step back away from him again. "Uhm... I-I think I should get going." she stole a look at the Connector, seeking permission to get the hell away from there. "Yeah, sure. Take care." Kisara didn't need another word, she was already rushing away - Only for a man looking around her age or younger, with the obvious Kure eyes, blocked her exit, towering over her. A lankier man, just like him, trailed just behind. "Gilbert, what crawled up Yan's ass and died?" so this was Gilbert Wu. Kisara felt surrounded by what seemed to be the whole Small Council of the Connector, as if she was in Game of Thrones or something. She looked at Shen again, waiting for him to give the signal for Gilbert to step away from the exit so she could bolt off. "Ah, yeah - I know this really good jeweller for that pin. He should repair it in a week or so." "Lovely!" Kisara forced a smile. "I, uh -- See ya!" she bolted the hell away.

Thankfully, on the way back, she met Ohma who was already rushing her way. "No questions. Let's run the hell away. I'll tell you when we get out of the Inside. My brain is imploding." Ohma blinked, perplex, but questioned nothing. "Fine. Let's go."

Thankfully, they managed to get the hell away from this awful place, and while Retsu and Himuro took care of Ryuki, while Ohma, Kisara and Koga went to the manager's office. Here, they were greeted with open arms, and great news on TV - The Kengan Anti-Worm Alliance was going splendidly, and most of them, even the officers, were either killed or detained. The Worm Purge was going quickly.

"Wait, is it over then?" Koga gasped, looking at the TV. "It's not." the woman gulped. "The Connector is alive. His subordinates are alive. The Other Tokita Niko is alive. Gilbert Wu is alive." she bit her lip hard. "Ohma, you said Gaoh Mukaku was a monster. The Monster is Shen Wulong. He toyed with Mukaku like he was a ragdoll. He outright destroyed him." "You met the Connector again?" Kisara nodded. "I don't know how I'm still alive, but by the Gods alive, there's nothing scarier than being surrounded by those guys." finally, she could sit down - Her legs felt like giving out. "We've got a lot of problems on our side - And, Ohma - Shen said something weird. I don't quite get the implication, but... He said... You are not HIS clone, but Ryuki is." "Wait, but Ohma and Ryuki look the same, don't they?" Ohma, Kisara, Koga, Yamashita, Kaede and Rin all looked at each other with wide, scared eyes.

Is there more than one Connector out there?!

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dancingwiththeplanets · 4 years ago

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An Angel Amongst Demons - chapter one

Boba Fett x fem!reader

chapter 2 / masterlist

Summary: Boba tries to shield you from the dark side of his life. In his eyes, you are too innocent and pure for the harsh realities of the work that surrounds him. So when one day you stumble upon a meeting gone wrong when you were supposed to be hidden away, Boba’s afraid you won’t like the pieces of him he’s tried to protect you from, or worse, that now you’ll fear him.

A/N: My first fic in like 6 years, I'm nervous! haha This is kind of an AU I think?? Takes place after the events of season 2. I’ve added in two OC Mandos to the entourage because I love me some of that tribal brotherhood devotion. Also.. considering making this a series?

Warnings: soft!Boba (like, REALLY soft!Boba) protectiveness, maybe over-protectiveness? small character death, nobody important, two new sexy mandalorians (we’ll learn about them later), not much to be honest.

Word Count: 5.7k+

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There’s a lot to Jabba’s palace that most people don’t know about. A lot’s changed since the esteemed Boba Fett took over the throne and claimed ownership over the fortress in Tatooine. Castle might actually be a better word for it. Somewhat modest and ordinary looking on the outside, the true magnitude and vastness of the castle is hidden underground, even past the comfortably sized throne room.

What lingers further down the sandstone hallways are an array of rooms and staircases, mostly leading down in different directions. There’s a library and a kitchen and even a ballroom, which never has and probably never will be put to use. There are guest rooms that are more suitably described as luxurious suites, for the grand total of zero guests that Boba will allow to stay in his sanctuary.

There are permanently standing rooms for only a handful of the staff: the maid, Ada. Fennec, of course. And the two newest members of Boba’s trusted, elite team, Enzo and Raul, who arrived shortly before you did. The two are a pair of dutiful and truly impressive Mandalorians who serve at his beck and call, courtesy of Boba Fett’s ally and only recognized leader (not that he’s ever told what to do), Mand’alor Din Djarin.

Past the staff rooms and further down an open and beautifully lit hall, is the communal area of the palace, the center, if you will. Fully equipped to socialize and entertain guests with comfortable seating, a fireplace, and charming embellishments around the room. A warm and pleasant area of the palace that likewise, does not get as much use out of it as it should.

And finally, behind the common area, which in its own way, serves as a magnificent entryway, is Boba Fett’s private chambers. Home to the respected and feared bounty-hunter turned ruler, and you, his haven.

You. His cyare. His beloved. The ruthless king had fallen in love with you and your delicate heart, seemingly untampered with and somehow not left scarred by the harsh realities of Tatooine. He saw in you light and tenderness, and you gave him joy and true unconditional love. He spent many, far too many, late nights in Mos Eisley, at the cantina you worked in as a waitress. At some point visiting you every night to walk you home at the end of your shift, though you assured him you always made it home perfectly fine on your own. But Boba secretly lived for those extra few minutes he could spend with you walking you to your residence. Not to mention, he couldn’t fathom why it didn’t scare the bantha shit out of you to be walking around Mos Eisley alone at night, unarmed. That fact that you did sure as hell scared him.

On most nights he walked you home, you invited him in, unless you were absolutely too spent to spend another moment standing. But it was on those long nights that poured into the early hours of the lovely Tatooine sunrise that you and Boba grew close and eventually professed your love for one another. Soon after, he hopefully, and quite timidly, asked you to live at his palace with him. Though you’d never been before, you knew exactly where it was, and for that matter, who he was.

The new king of Tatooine had a reputation for being ruthless, unforgiving, and dangerous. And you didn’t miss the way people cowered away from his presence, especially when he wore the armor. Though, by your own calculations, every other patron who marched their way through these lands was just as feral as the Boba Fett they all believed they knew, and not one had ever been as kind or as gentle, or captivated your thoughts, the way he did.

He knew these things. More than most in the galaxy, he knew what a cruel fate such a pure being could meet, and if truth be told, he wanted to escape with your kind soul and shield you from this harsh planet before anything could harm you.

When he asked you again to go with him, you met his hopeful and loving gaze, eyes filled with devotion and admiration, and the corner of his lips pulled up just slightly in the most endearing of grins, you couldn't help but to instantly wrap your arms around him, leave a kiss to his neck, and tell him nothing would make you happier.

“Besides,” you teased, nuzzling into his neck, “I always wanted to be a princess.”

Boba chuckled and wrapped a strong arm around your waist, pulling your face back and tracing his thumb under your chin. “Believe me, mesh’la. You already were one.”

The next day, you found yourself and what little you owned in possessions, situating in your new home. Like everyone else, you had shockingly inaccurate presumptions about the size of the palace, soon learning that what lay hidden behind the throne room and down the sandstone halls was a modest castle to get lost in. No matter, you adjusted to your new environment and routine, though still unused to the respect and coddling you received on a daily basis, you adored every extra moment spent with your king.

Which is how now, five months later, you lay quiet and still as a mouse in bed, gazing dreamily at a sleeping Boba next to you. The early morning light casting a light blue hue over the room, as the suns hadn’t quite risen just yet. You were fortunate enough that your bedroom, the top floor to your two story chambers, was one of the few rooms in the palace with a proper window, the rest of your home and castle being underground.

A low grumble from the man next to you causes you to hold your breath, eyes not daring to leave his form as he breathes in a deep sigh. “You know,” he begins drowsily, “the moment you wake up and opt to stare at me instead of closing those lovely eyes again and getting some more rest, is the exact moment that I wake up too.”

“You don’t have to wake up,” you smile teasingly.

“I can’t help it.” He grumbles, eyes still shut heavily against the apples of his cheeks. “If you’re up, I’m up.”

“For all you know,” You retort, “I’ve been staring at you, awake for hours.”

At this, Boba’s unimpressed gaze turns to you, eyes now latched onto yours. “You haven’t been.” He says.

“And how would you know?” You giggle back, “I haven’t moved a hair. I woke up facing you, and didn’t move anything but my gaze. So unless you can detect the vibrations from my blinking, you couldn’t know.”

“I know.”

It’s your turn to look unimpressed, “How?”

“Because,” He leans in close to you, your noses lightly touching and a devilish look in his eyes, “If you’re up, I’m up.”

“Mm.” You hum unconvinced, eyes fluttering closed as he leaves a kiss to your nose then pulls away to sit at the edge of the bed. You follow his form as he stretches to a stand, joints popping as he twists his back and arms around, the result of a body having gone to war and back countless times. You sit up tiredly and lean against the headboard, watching him pull on his under armor, then latching on the Beskar. Piece by piece his body is decorated with more intimidating and handsome armor, slowly shielding your eyes from the scarred but lovely body of his that you admire possibly a little too much.

“You stare any harder and I might decide to take it back off,” Boba quips, a smirk rising on his cheeks.

You blush, shaking your head and looking away, gaze now pointedly out the window.

“Mesh’la,” He says, grabbing your attention again, his hands now occupied tugging on his gloves as he takes a few strides towards you. He smiles at the pink tint to your cheeks and your guilty smile, the remains of having been caught admiring him still plastered on your face. “I have important business to attend to today. But I’ve arranged for those workers to come and paint the library in a couple hours, would you mind overseeing it?”

He lifts a hand to lightly brush his thumb along your cheek, looking down upon you quizzically.

“Of course.” You nod eagerly. You've slowly been tending to every inch of the palace, erasing all remnants of the Hutt’s and adding in touches of comfort and warmth wherever you can. You wouldn’t say decorating is a passion of yours. But this is your home now, you might as well fill it with things you admire. Plus, Boba said if you didn’t take over the project, he’d just paint everything grey and toss out the old furniture without replacements.

You shiver as you untuck yourself from your velvety comforter. For a fortress built on possibly one of the hottest planets in the Outer Rim, this place can get cold. Probably due to the fact that it’s rooted so deeply underground.

Happy to have something to do, you head to the fresher for a quick wash before Boba leaves to his duties. You exit your chambers together, Enzo and Raul already waiting in the common area for you both. Upon seeing them, you turn and leave a gentle kiss to the cheek of Boba’s helmet for a final moment of private intimacy before you descend the staircase, hearing him chuckle fondly at your action as he follows.

“Good morning Fett, my lady.” Enzo bows lowly, turning to you. You laugh and shove his shoulder upon reaching the pair of them. You can hear the hint of amusement in his voice as Raul shakes his head beside him.

“Good morning gentlemen.” You smile.

Boba huffs coming to stand beside you, “Gentlemen.” He scoffs at your words.

Raul clears his throat, “Crane should be here soon, boss.” He says, visor trained on Boba and arms crossed over his chest, gaze briefly turning towards you before meeting the boss again.

You look towards your partner, “Your meeting today?” You ask.

“Yes.” He says, giving a quick nod.

“Alright,” You say, glancing at the suspiciously still trio of Beskar-clad men, “I’m going to the kitchens to have some breakfast. Then I’ll meet up with those workers in the library.”

Boba nods again, confirming your agenda.

You stare up at him, waiting for him to sputter out whatever it is you know he’s wanting to say.

“...Then,” You go on, “I guess I will, do some reading or...baking or...stare at the wall or something.”

“Sounds like a riveting afternoon,” Raul says after a more than comfortable silence.

“Okay,” you smile, chuckling a little and taking a step back, choosing to dismiss yourself now before the awkwardness has a chance to develop. “Have fun with Mr. Crane.”

Boba clears his throat as you turn towards the kitchens, stopping you with a hand on your arm. “Mesh’la,” He says, glancing pointedly at Raul and Enzo, who move to wait for him a few paces away. “Could you do me a favor?”

You tilt your head suspiciously, urging him to go on. “You’re acting rather strange Boba Fett.” You tease.

He grunts, “I’ve had a lot of trouble with Calendei Crane. He’s not a very loyal man, nor do I consider him a good one. He’s had a lot of chances to make up for the problems he’s caused me, but recently he went too far, and we’re not going to be having a charming reunion just now.” He sighs, “What I’m trying to say is... he didn’t necessarily come here by his own accord. And he won’t be very happy that he is.”

“I understand.” You nod.

Boba frowns inside his helm. I don’t think you do cyare.

“Alright then,” he says, “That said, I would really appreciate it if you would stay away from the throne room today. At least until I send Fennec or Enzo for you or something.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his hand opening and closing nervously by his side. He thinks you don’t know what he means. Oh Boba.

You reach for his hand as you step closer to his form. “Boba,” you whisper, leaning up towards him with a small smile, “You are the most kind and gentle man I’ve ever known. But I know that you are a man of business and principles. You do whatever you have to do. If an employee of yours is out there making a mess under your name, I would expect nothing less than for you to handle it.” You say, hoping to reassure him.

You raise your free hand to rest against the cheek of his helmet, “But I’ll busy myself back here until you’re done.”

He lets out a sigh in relief, hand reaching up to grab yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.” He says, before tenderly tapping his forehead against yours and turning to get on with his day.

You shake your head at his retreating form. Despite all of the darkness and dirt and the scum that surround Boba in his everyday life, he really does try everything in his power to not let it touch you. It’s almost as if despite the late night confessions and raw conversations you two have shared about your lives don’t translate to reality for Boba. As if he somehow believes you don’t truly know what it is that he does and who he is.

He seems to forget that you yourself have grown up with the same scum that populate this planet. In the nearest city to here in fact, where all the mudscuppers of the galaxy would stay and wreak havoc when this was once Jabba’s palace. You’ve seen things. You’ve experienced things. Some things that, shamefully, you haven’t yet shared with Boba. But what you can say with the utmost of certainty is that you know exactly the kind of people that like to deal in underworld business. And you know that there are many cruel beings out there. But Boba, he certainly isn’t one of them.

You sigh, turning to pass through the empty dining hall to the kitchens. The light tapping of your shoes echoing in the desolate space. A part of you wishes you had said to him, ‘Oh Boba, when will you learn that you don’t need to protect me from yourself?’

A necessary conversation for another time, you decide.

Shaking away your thoughts, you wander into the kitchen, making yourself a quick breakfast and giggling a while with Ada, as she begins preparing a stew for all staff members taking up a residency in the palace. She often prepares meals in substantial quantities, making enough for herself, you, Boba, Fennec, and the two other Mandalorians to all enjoy in your respective chambers.

“Take some of these to go dear!” She calls out, chasing after your form as you exit the kitchen. “You had better be eating a balanced diet.” She chides, handing you a towel with some berries on it.

“Thank you Ada,” you smile, leaving a peck to her cheek and making your way to the library.

When you arrive, the workers still aren't there, and you hum glancing at the clock. They should have already been here and working at least for an hour by now.

Expecting their arrival soon, you busy yourself with cleaning dusty bookshelves and making piles of the previous inhabitants' furnishings and decorations you’d rather not have.

You plop down on the floor after sorting through your ninth bookshelf, sighing after attempting to categorize everything by genre. Even opting to make a pile of books to get rid of, because really, nobody needs handbooks on slave trading and dealing in the dark business of the underworld. They’re just not something you’d like in your home.

You glance at the time again. “What on Tatooine.” You mutter, stretching to a stand. You’ve officially been bailed on, because you've been sitting in this dingy library for four hours and if nobody’s shown up yet, you doubted they would be.

Looking around at the mess you’ve made, you decide to finish tackling this task tomorrow, and head back down the hall towards your private chambers.

You pause to lean against the wall with your eyes closed, letting out a great yawn. It’s barely past noon and you’re already beat.

A voice calls your name just in front of you, startling you in the dark, candlelit hall.

“Ada!” You jump, with a hand to your chest.

“Mm, I’m sorry sweet one.” She frowns. “You had better go check on your Mandalorian.” She says sternly, wagging a finger up at you. “He sounds angrier than a farmer whose fresh crops have been raided by Tuskans.”

You furrow your eyebrows at her words, frowning. “Does he sound alright?” You ask, concerned.

“Too riled up.” She chides, shaking her head as she continues to pass you in the hall, grabbing a hold of your arm “Go straighten him out, lecture him on that temper of his.”

“Ada,” You sigh, “He’s dealing with a trying issue right now, and I promised that I’d stay away from this meeting.”

“Peh,” She waves her hand in dismissal, “Fine, your decision. But I did see a couple of those workers you were waiting on looking rather frightened up in the throne room. Go on and fetch them and get on with your project. You left quite a mess in there for me to deal with.”

“What?” You look disbelievingly at her, “Well why didn't you just send them my way. I waited all morning for them.”

She shakes her head, looping her arm through yours as you continue walking side-by-side. You roll your eyes at the nerve.

The sound of sudden, unmistakable shouting, coming from much further down the hall and up the stairs ascending to the throne room stops you instantly. Your eyes widen a bit as the voice carries on, rather menacingly. You wouldn’t want to be the one receiving the tail end of that conversation. Boba truly does sound pissed. You wonder how long he’s been with this Crane fellow.

“Ada,” you whisper, the lower tone seeming appropriate, “Don’t you go trying to get me into trouble.” You say, pulling her back as she tries to urge you forward.

“Young lady,” She scolds, looking up at you in a surprisingly threatening way. “I have much work to do. I need my good broom which I left up those stairs, and you need your painters or carpenters or whatever it is those fellas up there are. So, let us ladies get on with our business and fetch our things.”

“If you’re already heading up,” You say through slightly gritted teeth, “Then why don’t you just go up there, grab your broom, and do me the favor of nudging down my workers while you’re at it.”

“Because I have a bad leg. Now either accompany me up stairs so that I don’t fall or go on and get those things for the two of us at last!”

“Maker, Ada fine!” You say, losing your temper. A part of you knowing she was just stirring up trouble. You start up the first step and turn to her with an obvious empty threat. “And I’ll be sure to note to Boba that our maid has a bad leg leaving her incapable of climbing our palace full of stairs.” You mutter disbelievingly.

“Mm, you do that.” She counters.

You sigh, shaking your head as you quickly make your way up, hearing Ada walk away behind you.

That woman knows far too well that we would never replace her, you think.

Your focus shifting back to the surprisingly silent throne room just up and down the hall, you walk wearily, suddenly a little nervous.

You notice as you near the room, your steps silent down the hall, that there is a hushed but heated back and forth taking place.

“-swear Mr. Fett I-I d-didn’t know they were-”

“-What?” You hear Boba’s ominous voice interrupt. “You didn't know what?”

His form comes into view as you peek your head into the room, watching him descend the steps of his throne and approaching the accused slowly. You take a half step back, hoping to further hide your position, seeing as before, you were concealed behind his back. But given his new stance, the flicker of his gaze upwards and Boba would be met with your sinful and curious eyes.

Raul, you note, leans comfortably against the wall across the room behind Boba, observing the scene from afar, but seemingly more interested in fixing a mechanism on his Westar-35.

Fennec, who, based on the fearful gaze he glances up at her with, was obviously the one to retrieve Crane, staring down at him with a daring look in her eyes, as if challenging him to try and escape this situation. Enzo stands on Crane's other side, blocking most of your view from the accused and his state. You also note that there is no such broom or fearful workers around. Ada.

“Mr. Fett-” He whimpers.

“Sod it.” Enzo growls, raising his weapon to shove against Crane’s neck, hushing his pleas instantly.

You observe the creature as best you can from your corner. You don’t want to peer out any further for fear of alerting Boba of your presence. He wasn’t human, but not terribly strange looking, a blue being, probably a humanoid, but with claws for nails that were certainly not cute. He’s on his knees, head bowed forward in obvious shame and fear, and hands tied firmly behind his back. This guy looks like he’s had a pretty bad couple of days, but you still can’t tell if you feel sorry for him or not.

Boba reaches Crane in the center of the room, and in a manner so menacing and calculated, that exerts a level of dominance that frightens even you, he crouches down on his heels, meeting Crane eye-level.

Boba slowly pulls his blaster out of its holster and lifts it to Crane’s ducked chin, using the barrel to tilt Crane’s face up to meet his.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you feel yourself running out of air.

“You didn’t know what Crane?” Boba repeats in a tone so hushed you could barely hear. “That you were selling information to an enemy of mine? That you were betraying the trust that I had put in you? That you stole my property, weapons, and money to give to people who wish to do me harm?”

You can’t help but to feel anxious and on edge. Knowing very well you are not supposed to be in here observing the scene in front of you. Wondering if at this point, you should even try to make your silent leave.

Crane, seemingly breathless, and having accepted his fate, nods in defeat. “I’m sorry Boba.” He whispers.

“You violated the terms of our agreement Crane.” Boba says, rising up and adjusting his belt. “I gave you opportunity after opportunity to make it right. I told you that this was your final chance. I even gave you the kriffing option to leave!” He finally shouts.

You watch his chest heaving in rage as he continues to stare down at a defeated Crane.

Boba scoffs, “What did you expect would happen?”

The crippled man on the floor does what you least expect, his gaze lazily lifting up to meet Boba’s as he chuckles carelessly, his laugh soon transforming into a truly mad howl.

He looks like an absolute maniac.

Your eyes furrow in extreme discomfort as you watch the dramatic change in scene, and despite the obvious upper-hand that Boba has, you feel the urge to stand between him and this disturbed creature.

“I-I guess,” Crane breathes out between spouts of laughter, “I held out hope. Hope that the famous Boba Fett, oh-” he croaks out another laugh, “I’m sorry, that the-the King of Tatooine, would finally meet his demise like he should have all those years ago in the sarlacc. Oh, Boba, we were all so pleased when we thought you’d met the maker that day, but you...you son of a nerf herder, you lived. And WHY should you get to live while the rest of us died off! TELL ME BOBA FETT! Because you know something? You of all beings do NOT get to cheat death. You think you’re better than the rest of us, trying to make amends for your crimes against nature? Against the galaxy?”

Crane leans his head forward nearly slamming it against the ground as he violently spits out, “-No, no, no, no old friend. You are the worst, most foul kind of scum to EVER have walked these lands. You are no worse than Jabba, don’t you kid yourself. And if I have played any part in your demise, I’ll have avenged my brothers who have died at your hand. Your end is coming Boba Fett! You will fall, and so will anyone who tries to prevent your end!” He carries on, doubling over while spitting out the most ludicrous threats between maniacal laughter.

A wave of pure fear plunges your heart, leaving a sickly feeling in your gut at his words. You don’t even realize that your longing to protect Boba has unconsciously pulled your body a few steps in his direction. Your error not evident to you until Raul moves from across the room, capturing your attention. You glance at him only to see the gaze of his visor already locked onto yours and his body making quick strides towards you.

“Boss-” Raul says hurriedly, but not before a shot rings out, causing you to jump and gasp, hands flying up in front of you in instinctual defense.

You open your eyes and turn your head to face Boba just as his gaze snaps in your direction. Even with the visor covering his face you can see he’s taken aback by your presence. His arm lowers quickly with his blaster, holstering it. Everyone’s attention seems to be on you.

Nobody moves for a moment, and still frozen, your gaze flicks down to the dead being, monster, who lays thankfully slain on the floor.

Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you avert your gaze back up to Boba, whose arm shifts nervously at his side.

“Ner- ner cyare.” He whispers, his tone strained and unlike you’ve ever heard before.

You take a step towards him, but don’t go much closer when Enzo shifts to exist as a barricade between you and the bloody mess to Boba’s side.

“What are you doing here?” He says, seeming to struggle with every word.

“I-I can’t remember.” You say after a beat, nervous again suddenly that you’ve poked your nose into business you told him you’d stay away from.

He stands frozen, panicked behind the harsh mask of his visor. His absolute worst fear being realised as you stand in the aftermath of an execution he himself carried out, right in front of your eyes.

Cruel. Unforgiving. Dangerous. Vile. Sadistic. Merciless.

All words he imagines were running though your sweet mind behind those wide eyes.

“Boba.” you utter, taking another step towards him, hesitating at first then succumbing to your hearts needs and taking up a speedier pace.

Your hands, which at some point started shaking, matching your more obviously quickened heart rate, raise up slowly to rest on his chest, and you swear he flinches at the contact.

“Cyare-” He mutters again, heart beating undoubtedly twice as fast as your own, fear and desperation clinging to the word, but he stops when your suddenly tear-filled eyes meet his gaze and you cling to the sides of his helm.

“Boba, are you okay?” You whisper frantically.

At that, he lets out a shaky exhale, body loosening and head tilting slightly at your words.

“What?” He asks, stunned.

“Are you alright?” You say, searching desperately through the dark visor of his helm for his warm, brown eyes.

“Am...am I okay?” He repeats.

“Yes I-I heard everything he said.” You stutter, head turning to meet the deranged creature's corpse covered in his own blood before Boba finally and frantically grabs a hold of your cheek to gently avert your gaze away from the scene. “He-he was absolutely maniacal.” You let out a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry I came but I-I heard shouting and A-Ada said something I can’t even remember what but I ended up here somehow and please don’t be mad but maker I just didn’t expect this-” you pause, tempted to glance at the corpse again but your cheek stays steadied in Boba’s hand, “-this monster to be here, threatening you and maker I know you’re alright, you’re always alright, but I desperately wanted to be standing between you and him to do anything to shield you from his threats I-”

“-Mesh’la.” Boba says, more of his confidence appearing in his voice and his movements but still weary nonetheless.

“Are you okay?” You repeat desperately, cradling his helmet firmly in your hands again.

“I’m-yes. Yes mesh’la, I’m alright.” He stutters out, “Are-are you not afraid of me?”

“Afraid of you?” You breathe out, taken aback. “Never, Boba. I-I could never fear you.”

Boba’s completely stilled in your arms. It feels like hours, your wide eyes looking at him with that familiar tenderness and devotion. You almost forget about the other’s, standing completely motionless around you, until Boba suddenly turns you and urges you forward with gentle hands on your waist, his form practically shielding you, quite fruitlessly, from the scene he guides you away from.

When you reach the hallway, he allows you to pull him next to you instead, as he opens the door to the closest chamber in sight and ushers you into it, closing the door behind you both.

The dimly lit room casts a warm glow on you both as you turn to face Boba, whose back is slumped up against the closed door. He heaves in slow, heavy, deep breaths.

You stand, unmoving, only a few inches from him. Gaze locked on his visor, you wear a concerned expression on your face, your own breaths silent but speedy as you wait for him to explain his behavior.

He finally says your name, both his palms rising in a pleading request for you to take them.

You place your hands gently in his, and he cradles them to his chest, looking down at them. So small and clean and innocent in his dark gloves that carry the stains of countless victims.

You hold your breath when you hear a choked sob escape from his modulator. Your mouth falls open a bit, eyes flitting down to where he stares at his hands caressing your own.

“Boba?” You mutter.

As if prompted by your voice, a more obvious sob falls from Boba’s lips, and his hands release your own, finding purchase on your hips as he falls to his knees before you.

You gasp out a breath of disbelief as you watch your partner, your warrior, your Boba, cling to your waist. Silent sobs shake his body as he hesitantly pulls his hand from you and places it under the lip of his helmet, tugging the armor off and letting it topple to the floor beside you.

Tears spill down Boba’s face, following the same trail left behind by the first few that managed to fall. You grasp his face in your hands, thumbs sweeping across his cheeks and erasing the tears that slid down his scarred skin.

Your vision blurs as your own eyes well with tears. “My love,” You whisper, “What’s wrong?”

His forehead tightens and brows furrow, making him look like he’s in pain. “Mesh’la I-” he stops to compose himself, his eyes looking down though you hold his face in your palms. “You- you do not fear me?”

“I could never Boba.” You assure him, you voice cracking as you say the words. “I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone in my life. You...being with you, makes me feel safer than I ever thought I could feel.”

Your hand leaves his cheek to smooth out the worried lines on his forehead, and you bring your index finger under his chin, urging him to look up at you. “That creature, monster, whatever he was,” You start, “He was disloyal and foul and cruel. He wanted to hurt you. Which means he wanted to hurt me. I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you. You’re my everything Boba.”

He stares up at you, vulnerable, more unsteady than you’ve ever seen him, but you go on, “I know who you are Boba Fett. I know that you were a bounty hunter. I know that now you rule the underworld and that sometimes you do unpleasant things. I know that you have regrets and I know that you have a past. I have one too. But most importantly, I know that you are a good man, worthy of my trust. And I will stand by your side every day for as long as you want me here, because I love you. My mind, my body, my soul,” you whisper, tears flowing down your own cheeks now, “-they’re yours Boba. All of me is yours.”

Tears well in his eyes again as you speak, but he doesn’t hide from you as he frowns against the tears threatening to spill again. “I love you so much.” He confesses almost fearfully.

You reach down to unlatch his hands from your waist, though you’re met with mild resistance, before you kneel to be level with him. You lean forward slowly and kiss him, passionately and desperately and devotedly. He cups your face in his hands, pressing you to him as close as he can before releasing you.

“You,” He whispers, leaning his forehead against yours with closed eyes, “You are too pure for this galaxy. An angel living amongst demons.”

“And I suppose you think you’re a demon?” You shake your head, smiling at the absurdity of it.

“Me?” He grins, “A fallen angel? Most definitely.”

#an angel amongst demons #Boba Fett #boba x reader #boba x you #the mandalorian #book of boba fett #din djarin #mando #jabbas palace #soft!boba #king!boba #boba fett x reader

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thepurplebutterflythings · 5 years ago

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Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird (Part 12) - Jason Todd

Gif: Dxnninja on Tenor

Word Count: 2.6K

Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader

Summary: Poor Jason has to suffer dress shopping with Y/N, Harley & Ivy. Y/N worries that she’s bothering Bruce.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterisations.

Tagging: @bella-0104-123 @ninergirl1d @httpfandxms @rosybrock @attackonnat @reclusive-chicken-nugget @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @young-psychos @thesleepykaijuu @thescottpack @nightlygiggles @rougestorms @sinon36 @acvrosstheuniverse

_______________________________________________________________

“We’ve been in this fucking store for three hours,” Jason groaned to Y/N as they watched Harley and Ivy order the staff around. Turns out Bruce had shut the store down for the day so Y/N and Jason could have their outfits for the Gala selected without interruption. All remaining staff present signed papers not to spread the information and then were left at the mercy of Harley and Ivy.

Every dress and suit that the staff showed the women were either too dramatic (Plain white? She’s not getting married), not dramatic enough (Oh, so now she’s merely going to the Oscars?), too sparkly (what? Was Y/N a Vegas show-girl now?), too poufy (She’s not in a Disney movie, moron), not modest enough (hun, we’re all for wearing what you want, but this is a Gala, there are standards), or too modest (She’s a gorgeous young woman, not a fucking Nun). Harley and Ivy always had something to critique about the dresses, and don’t even get them started on the suits. The women had decided that Jason and Y/N must wear matching outfits, and because the dress hadn’t been picked yet, the suits were all met with an icy glare.

“Now, I’ll say this one more time for you, doll,” Harley smiled sweetly with a deathly glare in her eyes, clapping her hands and leaning into the worker’s face. He was a tall, bulging man, but cowered in fear at Harley, who was half his size and standing on a seat to make eye contact. “This ain’t any plain ole gala here, we need a show-fucking-stopper of a dress, not this cheap crap that you’re prancing around us, not the tacky shit, the best shit, the high-quality shit – you hear me?”

“Yes, Ms Quinn,” the man nodded furiously, “right away, Ms Quinn.”

“Good, now scamper and don’t come back till you got the best fucking dress for our girl, kay?”

“Yes, Ms Quinn, right away, Ms Quinn,” the man disappeared quickly.

“Now, darling, that was a little harsh, don’t you think,” Ivy scolded her partner lightly, tilting her head and pursing her lips with her arms folded as Harley climbed down from the chair, huffing and popping out her hip.

“Y/N deserves nothing but the best,” Harley said, sticking her chin up and strutting to look at shoes for Y/N.

“Give the dresses a chance,” Ivy rubbed her temples, “Y/N hasn’t even tried a single one on.”

“Yeah, Auntie Harley, they might look different on,” Y/N nodded.

“If I don’t like it, it ain’t going on your body, babes,” Harley cocked her eyebrows as she lifted one shoe up, a sleek black shoe with dagger heels.

“Good thing she likes me then,” Jason whispered into Y/N’s ear, causing her to burst into giggles and smack his chest.

“I heard that lover boy,” Harley lifted her eyes to glare at Jason.

“Am I wrong, though?” Jason flashed a classic grin at Harley, who rolled her eyes and chuckled before gliding past him to look at bags, ruffling his hair in the process. Jason frowned and tried to fix his hair quickly.

“Not completely, lover boy,” Harley said, studying a bag and showing it to Ivy, who squinted then nodded in approval, “but we can still take it all back. Remember that!”

“Yes, mam.”

_____--

Saying that the office of Bruce Wayne was grand was an understatement. Spectacular, extraordinary, antique, majestic, and so much more. It was the only room which Y/N hadn’t been in. Part of her felt as though she was intruding. She still felt a little like an imposter, really. It hadn’t even been a month, and Bruce had altered his will to say that Y/N was his main heir. Obviously, he left a little something for Alfred, who would still be employed for the Wayne Family, now that there was one. Dick Grayson had some money left for him, and a car, one which he loved as a young boy and first came to Wayne Manor. Jason, of course, also had a small inheritance lined up for him, and a position waiting at Wayne Enterprises. Selina was left something as well, but Y/N held to gain the most. CEO, a vast fortune, lord knows how many houses and cars and bottles of wine and anything else which wasn’t left to anyone else – it was all hers. When she was made public, Y/N would be one of the most envious people on the planet, part of the 1%. It was terrifying, to say the least. She was going to go from someone the world didn’t give two shits about, a daughter of a single mother who had a criminal record, to someone who would have people sharing everything about her to the world, the daughter of Bruce Wayne, future CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Bruce adored her. He looked at her with pride and joy. She was already the apple of his eye. When Bruce asked if Y/N wanted to see his office, she agreed. It was strange being in a room that was going to be hers one day, one which was her father’s, and her grandfather’s, and great-grandfathers.

“So… Dad…” Y/N said as she walked around the room, looking at everything. There were bookshelves which stretched up to the ceiling, all filled with leather-bound books. “What kinda work do you do in here?”

“Go over statistics, read reports, things like that,” Bruce explained, “we’ll go into more and more detail about this later. Right now, I just wanted to show you it. You don’t have to stress about the CEO stuff yet, I’ll talk you through everything and show you the ropes.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“It’s not a problem, my dear,” Bruce stroked his daughter’s hair. “So, wanna see the Batcave?��

“Hell yes, Dad!”

Bruce chuckled and grabbed a book off of the self and opening it to reveal it was hollow inside with a small remote. Grabbing the remote out, he moved Y/N to face the empty fireplace. There was a mischievous smile on the older man’s face and a twinkle in his eye as he pointed it and pressed the button. The fireplace pulled back inside itself, and a secret hole underneath it was revealed. Y/N stared and walked forward to see the descending staircase.

“Down we go!” Bruce said behind Y/N.

___-

“And this is where Alfred oversees everything when Jason and I are in the field,” Bruce showed Y/N the computer set-up. There were seven monitors in a mixture of on a desk and mounted on the wall, and three keyboards, but one mouse. All the screens as the Bat Symbol on the screen, slowly spinning around.

“This is a cool set-up, Dad” Y/N let out a low impressed whistle. “The most advanced thing I’ve got is my night-vision goggles.”

“Well, we can give you an upgrade if you want,” Bruce offered, appearing a little sheepish, wondering if he had crossed a line. Bruce was trying so hard to find the balance between fun and protective, worrying about being either too careless or too overbearing. Selina seemed to have it down perfectly, but she had 19 years to learn, Bruce had about 19 days as a father. It wasn’t something you could pick up in a YouTube video. Bruce had to learn it himself. He gave Alfred a lot of credit now as he realised the sudden lurch in the man’s life to care for another living creature, protect and love them. Bruce had no idea how Alfred managed.

“I’d love that, Dad,” Y/N turned to Bruce with a grin on her face, thrilled at the suggestion.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Bruce asked curiously, “calling me ‘Dad’?”

“Oh,” Y/N blushed and looked down as her face fell, “sorry, does it bother you? It’s just… I’ve spent near-on twenty years never being able to call someone ‘Dad’, and now I have you here… I guess… I just want to make up for lost time,” she confessed, “If it bothers you, I’ll stop.”

“No, no,” Bruce shook his head as he met Y/N’s eyes. “I like it,” he said, “it feels… right… hearing you say ‘Dad’. It’s nice.”

“I’m glad… Dad,” Y/N smiled as she hugged her father. “It’s nice to be able to say it finally.”

“It’s nice to hear it,” Bruce whispered into her hair before pressing a fatherly kiss on her forehead. “You’re a remarkable young woman, and I’m so proud to say you are my daughter.”

“I love you, Dad,” Y/N said quietly.

“I love you too, my dear,” Bruce assured her before wrapping her into his arms.

_--

Selina painted Y/N’s toenails while Y/N painted her own fingers. They had both decided on painting them a glittery red colour. As Selina slowly moved the brush over her nails, Y/N wiggled her toes with a giggle, earning a stern look from her mother.

“We don’t want these messed up now, do we, Kitten?” Selina tutted, but smiling afterwards with a small chuckle.

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Y/N laughed, “we should do your nails afterwards,” she said, “I’ve got a lovely shimmery black that would go amazing with your dress!”

“Not tonight though, kitten, we need to let your nails dry before even thinking about mine.”

“Fine,” Y/N nodded, “what about jewellery?” she asked, “what jewellery are you wearing?”

“Nothing dramatic,” Selina said, “gold chain necklace, earrings and maybe a bracelet. I just want it to be subtle, yet elegant.”

Y/N smiled. Subtle, yet elegant – that was Selina Kyle through and though. She never needed to wear giant jewellery or puffed up dresses to catch the attention of an entire room, no, all Selina had to do was smile faintly and hold her head up high, that was all it took for heads to turn and face Selina. She was enchanting, breath-taking, ethereal – Selina Kyle could rival Aphrodite herself as most beautiful. She was beautiful inside and out. She loved and cared about people. She was a good mother, a tender heart, regardless of criminal activities. Selina Kyle was a good person, and that was rare, not just in Gotham, but in the world.

“You’ll be the most beautiful person in attendance, Mama.”

“Thank you, Kitten,” Selina stroked Y/N’s hair, “that’s very kind of you. You will look marvellous as well, Baby, I’ve seen your dress. It’s breath-taking, like you.”

“What are you girls chatting about?” Jason asked leaning in the doorway with a cheeky grin, his eyes entirely on Y/N.

“The gala,” Selina said as she finished up Y/N’s nails and closed up the nail polish, putting it away, “our dresses and stuff like that.”

“Yeah, Y/N is going to look stunning,” Jason grinned.

“How’d you know?” Y/N chuckled as she blew on her nails. “Auntie Harley and Auntie Ivy won’t let you see my dress.”

“It’s like you’re getting married,” Selina teased, causing both Jason and Y/N to blush and look at each other.

“I know because you’re stunning even now,” Jason said. Y/N scoffed. Right now? Well, she was in giant sweatpants, with an equally large shirt that was old and worn out, even a few holes were visible. Her hair was soaking wet, and she had no make-up, showing the acne scars and blackheads on her skin. Y/N couldn’t help but feel insecure. Selina assured her that they could get the scars to fade with the right serum, which they had already found, in fact, they were less prominent than they were a few months ago. With a charcoal peel-off mask, the blackheads would lessen too, but Selina always told her daughter that she was a beautiful young woman, and she was, Y/N was aware of her looks. She was like her mother, but she was still only human, and even the most beautiful humans were insecure. “I mean it,” Jason told Y/N when seeing her facial expression, “you’re stunning.”

“He’s right,” Selina sang as she walked out the room, brushing by Jason, “remember, door open.”

“Yes, mum,” Y/N sighed as Selina waved and disappeared down the hallway.

“She really thinks we’d do that with them in the house?” Jason cocked an eyebrow.

“Considering that you make an innuendo in front of my aunties when we were dress shopping, I can’t blame her.”

“SHE KNOWS ABOUT THAT!?”

“The Sirens are like sisters, Tweety Bird, they tell each other everything.”

“Oh, God…”

“Just be glad she didn’t tell my father,” Y/N laughed at Jason’s already pale expression, which worsened at the thought of Bruce knowing what he said about being on Y/N’s body.

“He doesn’t know, right?”

“The Sirens aren’t stupid, Jace, they know that Bruce would lock me in a tower, Rapunzel-Style, if they told him that.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Jason groaned as he collapsed on Y/N’s bed, right by her feet.

“Hey, don’t ruin my nails with your floppy body!”

“Floppy?” Jason lifted his head, “I ain’t floppy, Kitty Cat, I’m a fucking Greek statue! Perfectly chiselled.”

“Well, there is one small unflattering thing about Greek statues, Jason…”

“You and I both know nothing about me is small,” Jason said, leaning over and kissing Y/N, cupping her face. Y//N leaned into the kiss, eyes closed and carefully placed her hand on his wrist, trying not to ruin her nails. Jason, through the kiss, knew this and chucking against her lips.

“Don’t make me get the spray bottle,” came a voice from the door, causing Jason and Y/N to pull apart quickly to see Ivy and Harley standing there, narrowing their eyes at Jason. Harley made an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture while Ivy folded her arms, tutting and shaking her head, “fucking bunny-rabbits you are.”

“Shouldn’t you be looking after Bud and Lou?” Y/N sighed as she shifted back from Jason.

“They’re at the groomers,” Harley shrugged.

“What groomer handles Hyenas?!” Jason frowned.

“One who has very high rates, trust me,” Ivy rolled her eyes and huffed.

“They look so cute,” Harley clapped her hands wildly, “they come out with matching bows, and they get given a little goodie bag.”

“We’re going to go pick them up now, so behave you two,” Ivy warned, pointing a sharp finger at them before she and Harley disappeared from sight.

“Well, that was embarrassing…”

“They’re gone now though,” Jason grinned.

“No chance are we picking up where we left off,” Y/N scolded, “anyway, Mum and Dad gave us rules, and we need to stick to them.”

“Fine, fine,” Jason chuckled as he stood up and pulled a small box from his pocket. “I’ll do what I originally came here to do then.”

“If you get down on one knee, Jason Todd, I might just faint.”

“Not yet, Kitty Cat, but one day,” he winked as he opened the box and handed it to Y/N. He presented to her the contents inside the box. A pair of earrings. They were silver, it seemed, and hanging off of the silver, like a precious mermaid tear, was matching white pearls that glistened in the light of her room.

“Oh, Jason, you didn’t,” Y/N gasped as she carefully took the box from his hands and looked at the pearl earrings. She looked from the earrings to Jason and then back to the earrings before looking at Jason again.

“I wanted to get you something for the Gala, and since I’m not allowed to see your dress yet, I’d go for something classic and beautiful, like you,” Jason said gently, stroking her wrist, so not to ruin her nails which her still drying.

“Jason…”

“No, don’t, I know what you’re going to say that it’s too much, but it isn’t, it really isn’t.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Y/N smiled.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Thank you, Tweety Bird,” Y/N kissed Jason’s cheek, “I love them. They’ll look really good with my dress.”

“And they’ll look gorgeous on you, Kitty Cat.”

“God, you’re such a charmer aren’t you,” she teased.

“Well, when I’ve got such a beautiful girl here, how can I resist?”

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interesting-blog-name · 5 years ago

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“Indie Rock” MEGAREVIEW (Hippo Campus - Bashful Creatures/Bad Suns - Language & Perspective/COIN - How Will You Know If You Never Try)

“Indie rock” is a term I never understood. It obviously should be used to describe rock by independent bands, but what counts as independent anymore? Bands like Arcade Fire and Modest Mouse are categorized as “indie”, much like Mac DeMarco, and they have reached a point in their careers of worldwide fame, but they’re still considered “indie”, not because they record their music at home with a $15 mic, but because of their sound. It’s hard to describe, but it’s a light brand of rock that has undistorted guitars, pop structures, and something of a Summer vibe to them. I really don’t know how to technically describe indie rock as a genre, but I have yet to listen to an indie rock album, so I got three short albums from bands that my some of my friends listen to, all under the “indie” umbrella (according to Wikipedia), to see if I actually like the style.

Hippo Campus – Bashful Creatures

It’s a solid EP. Not much more to say.

I really don’t know what to comment on in this, because I feel like the biggest problem with the “indie” “genre” is that the bands all sound the same, and for a 6-track EP, how much variety can you really ask for? Also considering this is their debut EP. The instrumentation is fine, especially the guitars, which I think really embody the whole summertime feel of the genre, and standout in almost all tracks here, and the singer’s voice is memorable enough, and doesn’t leave anything to be desired at any point. He’s also super hot The songwriting is that youthful, lovey dovey shit you’d hear in a teen romance movie (“Art school girl with ignorant bliss. Peace, weed, cocaine, and mushrooms and shit”) but it’s tolerable (except in Souls, that song’s chorus is a little too generic for me, I think; even though I like how the song starts kind of toned down and suddenly blows up). The closest the EP gets to having even the slightest bit of edge is on the title track, an anthem about not caring about what others think and being yourself, and Suicide Saturday, the biggest song in here, which talks about social suicide and college parties and all that. Unfortunately, they’re also the most forgettable songs.

Sophie So has a really catchy hook, and showcases Jake’s higher pitched vocals very well, it is easily my favorite song. On Little Grace, the biggest change-up is the dub rhythm that sneaks up in the middle of the song, but it doesn’t stand out, and the chorus is the most annoying in the EP. Opportunistic has a fast cadence to it that sets it apart a little bit, plus the guitar fingering is notable, but the track isn’t anything superb or whatever.

It is executed well, doesn’t bring anything new, but I’d listen to it in the car.

FAVORITE TRACK: Sophie So

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: Bashful Creatures

Like a 6/10

“You came back, you wanted to see through my two-colored eyes. You left me at home with a handful of downtrodden sighs.”

Bad Suns – Language & Perspective

I had known Cardiac Arrest for almost three years now, an upbeat song I’d enjoyed a little, so I chose Bad Suns for the second album, and I was disappointed.

After the first three tracks, I had the feeling Language & Perspective had nothing interesting to offer, and I was mostly right. Nearly all songs here could be described as something like “indie-pop”, but with a huge emphasis on the “pop” aspect. The tracks are all so goddamn formulaic and predictable, songs like Take My Love and Run, Learn to Trust and We Move Like the Ocean sound like they literally copy-paste themselves halfway into them until they end, and Sleep Paralysis swaps what could be an actual verse with like 20 seconds of onomatopoeia. The song topics are generic and bland as well, most of them being about “[coming] to you on my hands and knees” and dreaming about an ex late at night and stuff like that, or general teenage anxiety and overthinking, and that would be tolerable if the band at least said it with some kind of variation, but they don’t, it’s just surface-level love and regret songs back to back.

An exception to the bland songwriting in the album is the song Salt, where lead singer Christo sings from the perspective of his transgender friend. I’m not trans, so I can’t relate nor understand if the lyrics are accurate, but the thing is he isn’t either. From the Genius annotations, it seems the friend was pleased though, and said the feelings expressed in the song were things she actually felt, but was never able to describe, so I guess that’s cool of him to dedicate a whole song to her experience. Still, unfortunately the track isn’t such a standout instrumentally or vocally, but one thing I liked was how the hook finishes at the end of the song, when “these memories are nothing to me, just salt” becomes “salt to the wound”, so yeah that was cool.

Language & Perspective is at its best when the hooks are catchy and you just don’t give a fuck. Songs like Cardiac Arrest, We Move Like the Ocean and Pretend are super easy to sing along to, and sound perfect for when you’re in a car driving against the sun (I know I said the exact same thing for the last album leave me alone), especially because of Bowman’s impressive singing, but without that thin veil of sugary pop, what does this album have that stands out? Matthew James, Take My Love and Run, Transpose (which sounds like it could be on a really corny Nike commercial) and Learn to Love just aren’t as memorable and fun, and so they end up coming off as generic, bland and at times annoying, just because they don’t hold up to the melodic fun little hooks on the other songs.

I can’t hate on Dancing on Quicksand and Rearview however, as even though the first’s lyrics aren’t standouts, I can’t help but love how groovy the song is, and the latter, while the melodies aren’t the most memorable here, the lyrics, to me, sound like they have a little more life and personality to them, even if they remain somewhat vague. I have to admit Sleep Paralysis is a mixed highlight for me, despite the lyrics being especially repetitive, just because of how grand the ending sounds and how the eerier chord progression brings at least something new to the album.

Also, really quick before I wrap it up, why the fuck is 20 Years not in the album? It’s in an EP they released the same year which features Cardiac Arrest, Transpose and Salt and it would easily be my favorite track if it was in the tracklist, maybe because it’s just really relatable to me how your teen years pass without you noticing, but it’s also so mellow and would bring such a refreshing little moment in the record.

My difficulties with this album is that I do like and see myself in the future bumping a lot of these songs individually, if I shut down a few parts of my brain and disregard half the lyrics, but when they’re all crumbled together into a project, their single qualities fade and their flaws unite to form a pretty unsatisfying listen; nearly all songs feel static, formulaic, and don’t progress or amount to much – which is pretty noticeable if you realize all songs span from 3:03 to 3:53 minutes - and the instrumentation brings almost nothing to the overall experience, it’s pretty much a backdrop for Bowman to sing his heart over, without much personality of its own. So while it’s not awful, it’s not good either.

FAVORITE TRACKS: Dancing on Quicksand, Rearview

LEAST FAVORITE TRACKS: Learn to Trust, Take My Love and Run

4.7/10

“You let your hair down, your face is made up, you know this town so well”

COIN – How Will You Know If You Never Try

COIN is the least familiar band of the three here, as I’ve only heard Growing Pains from them and I don’t remember anything from the track, but as a quick intro, the band is from Nashville, Tennessee and consisted of 4 members: Chase Lawrence on vocals and synthesizer, Ryan Winnen on drums, Joe Memmel on guitar and backing vocals, and Zach Dyke on bass until he left two years ago.

After listening to the first three tracks of the album, my expectations were pretty high, but after finishing, I feel like this album is reminiscent of a poorly-heated microwave meal: the first three tracks are decreasingly good, the middle of the album is raw, and the last three go back to being increasingly good, with the only exception being the bright spot that is track 7, Heart Eyes, a romantic, entrancing little jam that I can’t help but love.

My big grip with HWYKIYNT is that, for 11 tracks, COIN doesn’t let go of the ear-destroying instrumental breakdowns (it’s not like it’s heavy metal or anything, but the mixing makes it sound like the guitars blow up at some points), tuned up guitars and formulaic song structures, and that leads to many tracks becoming rather forgettable amongst the others. There are, of course, exceptions, but they’re few and I’d say not well-located within the album: Don’t Cry, 2020 is the big standout in the album for me, and I fell in love with it first listen (the context of today being 2020 also helps, I guess), Boyfriend’s defining synth-line and bubblegum qualities make for a lot of enjoyment, especially paired with the light-hearted passive-aggressiveness and rejection on the lyrics, and Talk Too Much, their biggest song, has some cute little lyrics, and an ultra-pop hook that centers the whole song around it and is impossible not so sing along to; but immediately after, the album starts to slow down its hype with I Don’t Wanna Dance, which has an appealing vocal performance by Chase, and starts promisingly with the synths, but is too simple to go anywhere.

Hannah is probably the most forgettable song here, and brings absolutely nothing to the album, and Are We Alone?’s lyrics are cute and focused but really simplistic; in this song specifically, I think the breakdown the band employs right after the hook is really unnecessary, and the song would do better without it. After that is Heart Eyes, which I’ve mentioned before as one of my favorites, mostly because it tones it down a bit, something that really needed to happen at some point this deep into the record.

The song Lately II contains the hidden track Nothing Matters and deals with Chase losing his newborn nephew, a sequel to Lately off the band’s debut album. On the outside, it sounds like just another cheerful song, but the lyrics taken into context I’m sure are very meaningful to Chase and his family; besides that I enjoy the heavier drums in this track and the loose vocal melodies right after the chorus, plus the closing instrumentals are also a nice addition, but I don’t really understand the need to include a hidden track into it; I understand the themes are intertwined, but it could have very well been a separate track, and the way it is slightly harms the song when isolated from the album into, for example, a playlist or a one-time listen, but whatever.

I don’t have much to say about Feeling, it’s your average hype indie-rock track, something you’d maybe hear in a FIFA video game soundtrack, but to its credit, it doesn’t go overboard in itself, the vocals and guitar performances feel very grounded and safe, in a good way. And to finish this off, Miranda Beach brings some solid guitars to the table, they feel very textured and pierce through every other sound; the song is definitely one of the most infectious and ear-catching on here. Closing it all up, Malibu 1992 is the slow jam the album was in need of for 11 tracks. Very stripped back and patient compared to the rest of the song, which makes it stand out naturally, but that doesn’t mean the song is superb or anything, it’s just a refreshing taste.

Throughout a lot of the tracks here I was waiting for something more, a slightly different approach to a song, more introspective lyrics, but it never really came in a way that stood out, and because of that, the start of the album ends up more solid than the rest of it, in my opinion. It isn’t a bad album, but it isn’t amazing either. I feel it’s very derivative, the lyrics are not a standout, and while some songs may be bops, I don’t feel it is strong as a whole project.

FAVORITE TRACKS: Don’t Cry, 2020; Miranda Beach; Talk Too Much; Heart Eyes

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: Hannah

I’m feeling a strong 5 to a light 6 on this one.

“You’re so concerned about your future, yeah, but tomorrow’s just another day.”

#hippo campus #bad suns #coin #indie rock #rock #bashful creatures #language & perspective #how will you know if you never try #album #review #album review #ep #EP Review #boring ass day

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elfnerdherder · 5 years ago

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Opus Dei: Chapter 1

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A special thanks to my patrons: @evertonem @sylarana @starlit-catastrophe @frostylicker, Mendacious Bean, Superlurk, Duhaunt6, and Laura G.! <3

Well guys, here’s to another Fannibal fic. :) I’m not sure if there’s a lot of call for a sequel/revenge fic, but I’m going to do my best to not make a muck of it. As always, I hope you enjoy! Happy Friday.

Summary: "Behold, I will make you fishers of men," Abigail said with a laugh.

And so Will did. Bait for Hannibal the Cannibal is tricky, though, especially when the hunter knows they're hunted. Four years in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane gave him time, and in the end time was all he'd really needed, isn't it?

Will Graham had never meant for so much death. After being released for crimes he hadn't committed, he knows the right thing to do is move on with his life and begin a new chapter as an innocent man. Go to college. Meet the girl. Fall in love. Put his past behind him.

There's just one small problem: Hannibal Lecter isn't quite ready for him to move on, and truth be told, Hannibal is a itch that Will just can't help but scratch. When The Great Red Dragon begins to stalk the halls of George Washington University, Hannibal's ready to see just how far Will is willing to go to see his reckoning through.

In the end, the fire could take them all.

Thriller, cat-and-mouse, romance, angst, murder, mayhem, gaslighting, slow(ish) burn, old(er) Hannibal, whole-heartedly grumpy college-aged Will Graham.

Act I: A Part in Which the Hero Meets His Arch-Nemesis

Chapter 1: Enter Stage Right

The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane specialized in two things; first, they provided a safe space for the criminally insane to receive aid, and second, they took perfectly sane individuals and found delicately devious ways to make them certifiably mad. Within the dreary brick and concrete blended walls of only a lower-income-modest budget, there were certain rooms that aspired for civility with their floral wallpaper and gauche leather sofas, but even the hired help could barely boast the environment in which they toiled away at. The mental instability was an airborne virus, one that preyed on the strong of mind and completely obliterated the weak.

Will Graham was neither of these things –the criminally insane, nor the perfectly sane. Rather, he was a curious mix of both, and currently to date he would actually call it more of a curse.

He currently sat in the only room not bugged by the warden’s microphones, staring at the hands of a gristly, aged FBI agent. There was no polite ceremony to his visit. They knew each other well enough that pleasantries died when Jack Crawford first accused him of a murder that Will most certainly had not committed –several, in fact.

“Are you listening?”

“Vaguely,” said Will. A lie, but he’d become pretty good at those.

“Vaguely,” Jack repeated, awed. Before Will could tack something on, he tossed the file down for Will to see. “Read for yourself, then.”

Will glanced down nonchalantly. “I see what it says. I guess I’m just processing what it means for me exactly, is all.”

“What it means?”

“I mean, it says here the Chesapeake Ripper’s been at large for the last four years. Says here he’s actually been killing for awhile before that.” Will pushed the file folder back to Jack and crossed his arms.

"Yeah."

"Says there's evidence showing there was no copycat to Garrett Jacob Hobbs, just the Chesapeake Ripper."

Jack gestured and nodded. “So?”

“So?”

“I’m saying you’re innocent, Will.”

Will smiled. “Shit, Jack, but I already knew that."

“We made a mistake,” Jack replied, and it was obvious in the lines of his face that he’d been forced to eat crow. A whole lot of it. “One that the FBI does not take lightly. We contacted your lawyer, and a negotiation of wrongful imprisonment reimbursement was reached.” He slid a crisp, bland check over to him, scritching along the file folder. Will scratched the whiskers on his cheek thoughtfully.

His lawyer had called the night before, so he'd had time to mull it over. He lets it sit in a puddle of discontent on the table. “Two hundred thousand is pretty high dollar,” he finally said thoughtfully.

“Considering the specifics of the situation—"

“—My sickness the perfect excuse to not participate in any real detective work—"

“—it wasn’t difficult to convince us to offer the maximum amount,” Jack finished.

Will looked to his eyes, then to his mouth. “Is it that difficult for you to realize you should have listened to me?” he asked.

“Is it still that difficult for you to look people in the eye?” Jack retorted.

Will forced himself to look into his eyes. “I already know what I’ll see when I look into your eyes, Jack,” he said, “I'm sick of looking in eyes like that.”

“The evidence—"

“Was gift wrapped with a neat bow on top for you to keep as a souvenir,” Will cut him off. “So easy that you didn’t think to question whether or not it was really that simple to catch someone supposedly so smart you’d recruited an eighteen-year-old to tag along to horrific crime scenes. Easy as pie.” He folded his arms and dragged his thumb over his bottom lip, thinking. Temper, temper. Try again. Finally, “I’ll take your money. Four years in this place will ensure that I take anything I can from you.”

Jack’s lips puckered, but the papers were produced. Will took the stack and signed each specified place, gaze occasionally cutting to the check that rested at his elbow. Two-hundred thousand was indeed the highest he’d ever heard of, the closest being Inmate 2361-B who’d been imprisoned for allegedly killing his brothers. Three years got him one-hundred thousand dollars, but it also got him a bullet to the head a week after his release when he couldn’t adjust to civilian life and decided that eating a gun was better.

Paperwork done, Jack placed everything in a neat stack and seemed to hesitate. Will studied the clock overhead. 2:13 P.M.

“This killer that framed you—"

“Not interested.”

“He’s killed at least fifteen people, and we could really use your insight.”

“I don’t care,” Will snapped. “You know who I said did this to me.”

“Not that tired old drum about Hannibal-”

“Where you’re not inclined to hear me out, I’m not inclined to give a singular shit about your inability to catch a serial killer.”

“We did investigate him, Will! We found nothing!”

“Only because he’s smarter than you.”

They glared at one another from across the table, and Jack nodded reluctantly. “This killer is, yes. I need you to at least look.”

“I don’t care about your problems.” A beat. “And I don’t want to look.”

“No, but the Will Graham I know wouldn’t want to see so many people get hurt, even if it meant that you got to see me flounder in the process,” Jack said.

Will rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, and he sighed. “The Will Graham you claimed to know was, in your eyes, a psychotic killer,” he said conversationally.

“At the very least, help me because you could become a target if he wants to go after you again,” Jack prodded, not rising to the bait.

“My struggles are old and overused to him. I’ve become a boring study as of late, so it furthers him nothing to continue to try and ruin my life,” said Will with a non-committed shrug. “That’s the only thing you’ll get from me. Free advice, too: you’re no match for him, Jack. Let someone else take the case while I get back to my life.”

“Your life’s not—"

“FOUR years, Jack,” Will snarled, and something in his tone startled Jack enough that he didn’t interrupt. “Don’t you dare try to soften that.” He paused, waited long enough to get control of his voice. Temper, temper. “I don’t…I don’t want to help you.”

“It’s not about me, it’s about the innocent people,” Jack argued.

“At this point, I don’t care about them, either,” Will lied. It was a good lie, though, the kind that slid smooth off of the tongue like oil. “When can I leave?”

“Today,” Jack said, and he looked to the small window in the corner, just big enough to be legal. “They’re already processing your things for release. I took it on a hunch you'd say yes.”

Will heard the lock in the door turning, and he stood, studying Jack out of the corner of his eye. It was something he’d had to learn to do, and he’d become as good at that as he has at lying. “If you’re trying to imagine four years here, Jack, I’d not recommend it.”

“Oh?” Jack turned, likely ready for another fight.

Will stepped out when the door opened for him, and he smiled grimly. “You’re an FBI agent. They’d have slit your throat a week in.”

When Will returned to his cell, he found his things –what little he had in his cell that could be claimed as his –put neatly into a small vinyl duffle bag, the hospital’s logo emblazoned on the side. Clearly this was something that’d been in the works long before he’d ever been consulted.

He wasn’t handcuffed, and he walked down the endless grey walls without the metal biting his wrists for the first time in his entire life. The guard that walked beside him wasn’t friendly, but he made no move to stop Will when his pace quickened. He swore he heard whispers, hisses, other inmates calling out, and it nipped at his heels, threatening to trip him until at last the thick, barred doors shut with a definitive THUD.

A familiar face met him at the small space between worlds, where the check-in blocked both the entry to the institute and the exit to the real world. He’d been allowed to change out of the jumpsuit, a simple pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt his only other clothing, and he was relieved when she threw her arms around him that they’d been recently laundered. He dropped his duffle bag to hug her back, only a beat too late. It’d been a long time since he’d been embraced like that.

“Look at you,” Alana breathed, letting go of him. Four years hadn’t changed her, although it could be said that was because Will had witnessed those four years. Her raven hair was still swept back in loose waves, and her blue eyes still froze whatever they set their gaze on. She smiled, and he felt his own lips twitch in response, a tingling sensation rippling over his skin.

“Look at you,” he replied. He tugged loosely on his shirt, and he grinned. “They said that I could keep one item as a souvenir.”

“A good choice, Mr. Graham,” Alana stated, studying it. “I’d have done the same.”

“Are you off so soon, Mr. Graham? I’d have thought you wanted an exit interview.”

Will couldn’t help the small, tense knot of unease. “I don’t,” he said, curt.

Frederick Chilton laughed as he reached them, although it wasn’t quite humorous enough to be real. “I found the timing of your release interesting,” he said, gesturing to Alana. “I must admit, I was a little upset that I only found out ten minutes before you did that it would be occurring.”

“I think you know me well enough to know that nothing that happens is coincidence,” Will replied. Frederick opened his mouth to reply, but at the expression on Will’s face, it snapped shut.

“Congratulations on your promotion, Frederick,” Alana said from around Will. She moved around him to shake Chilton’s hand, and her offer was returned after a beat.

“It was a surprise to me, truly,” Chilton said with faux-modesty.

“The last Head Administrator was lobotomized,” Will informed Alana. “No one wanted the job after that. He was the only one with credentials that applied.”

“Yes, well, I met all of the criteria, and they were more than happy to offer the position to me. If you’re looking, Bloom, I can set you up with a wonderful residency here,” Chilton offered coyly.

“I have a good residency, but thank you,” Alana said with an amiable laugh. “Will, should we go?”

“Oh, yes, you should,” Chilton stated, laughing at a joke only he knew. “Whoever the killer is that framed you, you must find yourself inherently indebted to him for deciding to let you go free.”

“Goodbye, Frederick,” Alana said curtly, and she led Will towards the exit before he could reply with something nasty.

It was spring in the real world, sunlight rippling through maple leaves, and when Will’s shoes touched the concrete outside, he stopped at the steps and stared, eyes hungrily consuming everything in sight. Baltimore, Maryland wasn’t exactly home, but the trees were green, the flowers bloomed, and the air positively reeked with growth and birth and all those happy, renewing things. He inhaled deeply, savoring it.

“What do you think?” Alana asked.

"I'm hungry," he said, taking a step. No guard burst through the doors to detain him. No orderly found just the right spot to sink a needle and send him into a dizzying sleep. He hurried down the steps, pace quickening.

“What are you feeling?”

“Burgers,” he replied. Then, dryly, "glad to see the car hasn't changed."

"Hey, student loans before cars," she laughed, and they climbed in.

His bank assured him that four years had grown his account by exactly a penny and a half. Not surprising. Will drummed his fingers on his leg and was quick to leave after the check cleared, mingling by the mildly spindly maples struggling to grow in the indirect sunlight. Sunlight by the trees felt nice.

“Whoa,” Alana laughed, following him out, “no need to rush. They aren’t going to take it back, Will, I promise.”

“Right,” he said, and it took him a second to really register what she was saying. He laughed, a curt sort of noise that startled a woman walking by. “…Right.”

He waited outside of the burger place, loitering beside a table with an umbrella, and when Alana walked out he sat himself down with his back to the building, watching everyone on the street. His gaze flicked from teen to child to angry, middle-aged man, fingers plucking at his steak fries. He was hungry, but there was a different sort of hunger that took precedent, the kind that made him note hand gestures and tone, smiles that were quick and lingered. The only people he’d been able to observe for the past while had been guards, orderlies, and inmates, and those were the worst sort of people to see in a miserable, dreary, everyday setting. Miss Avery would have cautioned him that those were not the people one wanted to imitate and reflect.

“How are you processing everything?” Alana asked as she added ketchup to the burger. Will grabbed a fry and stuffed the entire thing into his mouth, sitting up to get his burger unwrapped.

“It’s very real,” he said, hands grazing over a bun that didn’t feel like it’d been baked at twelve thousand degrees before being dropped on something cold and left. “But it very well could be a dream. I could still wake up on that cot tomorrow.”

“It’s not a dream,” Alana assured him. “I was there when Agent Crawford met with the lawyer, and we discussed a few things before it was approved and he went to meet with you.”

"Jack didn't know I already knew." Will grinned. He'd enjoyed watching Jack dish out what he already knew was coming.

"I told him no matter what he did he was to get you out as soon as possible," said Alana.

“That’s a relief,” Will said. “I don’t think I’d manage another round.” And that was a lie, but it was the kind she’d allow him to have. If there was one thing Will had learned about himself, it was that no matter what seemed to happen to him, he woke up the next day –not necessarily stronger, but angrier. More resilient.

He took a bite of the burger, and yes; just what he thought. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. He chewed slowly and swallowed, savoring every moment.

“Do you have plans?” she asked.

“Get my phone turned on, call my dad, get my things, get a car, get a place, get a job.” Will ticked off the items on his fingers, grabbing another fry.

“Does…Hannibal fall into your plans?”

Will made a face. “Why would he?”

“Jack tells me you’re still convinced he framed you for everything,” she said tentatively.

“Yeah, but I don’t know what Jack’s playing at either, telling you that. He says a lot,” Will replied with a shrug.

“You think Jack is...playing with you?”

“This whole thing could be Jack’s idea. He could try and use you to convince me to help him suss out his killer.” Will shrugged, taking another large bite, uncaring of the use of too much mustard and not enough tomato. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d even had a tomato, let alone a meal that hadn’t come pre-packaged.

On second thought, he could remember, and he didn’t want to.

“You think so?”

Will finally braved a glance to her face, and the tone matched the facial expression. Her displeasure and disbelief were matched only by her reluctance to intentionally hurt him.

“No. I think Hannibal finally got bored with me, and sooner or later he was going to have to take credit for his work.” A beat as Will mulled something over. “Is that what they call him since they refuse to use his real name? Chesapeake Ripper?” He glanced over to a mild argument a couple was having at the farthest table, partially to note how she flipped her hair when she was indignant, and partially to avoid Alana’s disapproving expression.

“Leave it to you to still accuse the only man that stood by your side during the trial and believed your innocence,” she replied dryly.

“I don’t think any of you understand just how much he enjoys toying around with people,” Will said with pseudo-pleasantness. He took another bite, looking away from the couple to study Alana’s hands. They’d forgone handling her food in order to maintain business.

“He was trying to help you, Will.”

“He wanted his thesis to be new, bold, and innovative, and if he got to crawl into the head of some messed up kid that was too stupid to realize he was being manipulated, then so much the better,” Will snapped. “Which, by the way, I read his thesis; Dr. Chilton ensured I had access to see just how much Hannibal profited off of everything that happened to me.”

“Then you’ll have also read that he urges others to look for the necessary signs in order to prevent what happened to you to happen to anyone else,” she retorted.

“Yes, if the great Hannibal Lecter can’t cure the encephalitis, no one else should try,” Will said sarcastically. “I got to read a lot about psychology in the hospital, since everyone at first was convinced that I was an intelligent psychopath. He uses forms of coercion and persuasion to get what he wants, all the while his hands stay clean.”

“You’re not an intelligent psychopath,” Alana said pointedly. “Your presence here should show you that none of us think that.”

“The evidence shows me the Chesapeake Ripper finally decided that he wasn’t having fun anymore, so he needed to change things up a bit. Now he gets to take credit for his work, and judging by the desperation in Jack Crawford’s tone, I can assume he can continue toying with Jack a bit more. If he’s going to Hannibal to ask for help next, the Chesapeake Ripper won’t have to go far to get his kicks –the FBI will take the fun right to him.”

“He still asks about you, Will. Even after everything you’ve said, he still worries about-”

“My well-being, and do I eat, sleep, bathe, shave, read, and just generally take care of myself because sometimes at night he wakes up with such paternal thoughts in his head he can’t help by drop by the next day to make sure everything’s alright,” Will interrupted.

“Then why-”

“Because I know him better than any of you, and I see exactly what lies behind that artfully constructed veneer of calm, collected concern,” he replied. “And let me be honest, Alana, behind that careful construction is an intelligent psychopath that took away some of the few people in my life that I care about, and when I was able to piece it all together, he framed me for it.”

“He hasn’t taken me,” Alana observed, tilting her head. In that moment, he saw her as more of his therapist than his friend. “In your skewed perception of him, why is that?”

“You’re useful,” he said, swallowing with difficulty. “And you’re better off blind to him than dead.”

She pursed her lips, and maybe it was the way that she bowed to the meal for a moment that gave it away. Halfway through her burger, she set it down. “I’m dating Hannibal, Will,” she admitted at last.

He blinked, stunned. Another bite, then a douse of soda to wash down the bitter taste of disappointment masking fear. “…I see.” He nodded, feigned contemplation. He couldn't quite look past her chin. “And when should I expect the announcement in the mail?”

“Stop,” Alana warned.

Will laughed bitterly, plucking at the bun. “No, no, congratulations,” he praised, waving a hand dismissively. “I mean, really, I’m just…happy for you.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” he agreed, and he drummed his fingers on the table, needing to expel the anger that threatened to burst from him. He focused on the feel of the plastic table against the pads of his fingers, ruminating in the silence.

“You have every right to feel upset, given what you think about him,” she offered lightly.

“You’ve put yourself in a very dangerous position,” he finally replied, when he felt that he could control the timbre of his voice, “and it’s frustrating when I’ve warned you for years, and you still somehow thought that the best place to be was right beside a man like that.”

“Hannibal is a good person, Will,” she said, exasperated.

“You know, if you say it with a little more passion, you may just convince me,” he urged. He needed his hands busy; he fiddled with more ketchup for the fries.

The couple at the farther table was beginning to lose their cool, too. The man’s voice rose and lowered in cadence, rough and stiff with something like the hard consonants of an insult. The woman’s arms were crossed, her posture stiff.

“What are your plans, Will?”

“You already asked me that,” he sighed.

“Are you going to hurt Hannibal?” she pressed, and he looked back to her as he realized what she meant.

“Oh…oh, do I have plans for him?” he asked, incredulously. “Are you serious? I want to stay as far away from that man as I possibly can!”

“It’s not an unfair question.”

“It is when you’re being protective of a man capable of cutting the lungs out of someone while they’re still using them,” he replied sweetly. The more he felt the anger bubbling from the other table, the more he felt an insistent need not to replicate it.

Alana treaded carefully. Maybe she sensed it, too. “I know that in traumatic events, especially when undeserved actions are done against you, it makes sense for people to find ways to blame mentors friends for what happened,” Alana said gently. “You went through something horrifying, and you weren’t really allowed to properly grieve for your losses because everyone turned against you when it happened. It makes sense to me that you, in a time that was plagued not only by severe and horrifying losses but also a sickness that literally set your brain on fire, would take that burden and sub-consciously place it on Hannibal since he’d been trying to help you for months and was unsuccessful.”

By choice.

The man was gesturing with his phone, jabbing for emphasis. The woman was furiously ignoring him, her own soprano cutting into his tirade every so often with something biting but indistinct.

“Is that an apology? You completely believed I killed those people--”

“I never believed you as Will Graham consciously did anything to hurt anyone,” she countered. “I have always believed in you. Did I think that it was entirely probable, given the evidence, that the person that manifested as a result of a high-stress situation coupled with a deadly disease had a capacity for violence? Yes.”

“Those two people are the same person. One just had better control over our time.”

She startled him when she reached forward to grasp his hand just as the man shouted something particuarly foul. “I’m sorry for any time that I made you feel like a criminal.”

Will swallowed with difficulty, and he looked at their hands. Unlike Jack’s, dry and calloused with a life of hard work, Alana’s were smooth and unblemished, nails filed professionally and scented with something floral--Fresias? In stark contrast, his looked much closer to Jack’s, and he saw the precise place that one of Charlie’s hooks had caught on the back and broke skin. He let go of her hand to snag another fry, nodding curtly.

“If you want to talk about Hannibal-”

“I don’t want to talk about Hannibal anymore,” Will said curtly. “When I say that I want to remove him completely from every aspect of my life, I mean that. We can talk about what you want to talk about.”

“What I want to talk about is what you don’t want to talk about,” Alana said with a small smile.

“We can talk about whatever it is that I do or don’t want to talk about, how’s that,” Will offered. He glanced at her eyes, then over her head where a man in a greasy t-shirt carried a to-go order in one meaty fist.

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Will. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long, long time.”

“People that I care about tend to die. Worry comes with the territory.”

“You still have me, your father, and despite what you think, Jack Crawford is very much invested in your well-being.”

A rum deal, no matter how you looked at it. The only one he felt especially grateful for was the one sitting just across from him, and she was currently dating the only person in the world he’d gladly murder.

“Just promise me that you’ll be careful,” he said, looking to his food. The burger had about two bites left, and he wanted to savor them. “I know…I know you believe Hannibal is great, but he’s a snake. His venom is slow acting, and…I just want you to be safe. When the time comes-” He sighed, scrambling to find the words-- “when the time comes that you…have the choice to be blind or brave, Alana, please just be blind. I think maybe he’d let you live if you just chose to be blind.”

“You weren’t blind.”

“Oh, I really was, until I wasn’t. By the time I saw, though, I wasn’t in any position to do anything about it. I think that’s one of his favorite parts.”

“I’m as safe with Hannibal as I am with you,” Alana assured, and Will peeked up at the umbrella again, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

He could say with utmost confidence he’d never had the inclination to eat someone, but maybe his definition of safety and Alana’s were completely different.

#LiaS scribbles #Opus Dei #hannibal fanfiction #nbc hannibal #hannigram #hannibal x will graham #grey!will #hannibal au

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todaysbiggesthits · 5 years ago

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The Exam

Best Music Moment of 2019

BC: Three straight hours of this

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in my Chapman Ryder Cup match with Code -The Robert M. Chennault Playlist in my Ryder Cup match with Laser -Vampire Weekend's "M79" with Parks and Rec theme interlude in Pawnee Peytonville with my babe -Late night music game with JD and Chaps this Fall -My kids competing for best air guitar solo to Daft Punk's "Digital Love" -The Stones soundtracking Raceday morning with Counterfeit Kenny and the Kennel Boys

Codem: -Picking up the keys after closing on #our house and listening to Arden's dreams for the pad while listening to the songs that brought us together in the first place. -Perched in the balcony of Park West watching Chromatics live and in person. -The Chapman format playlist that Brendon and I put together. It was just one song on repeat. Xtal - Aphex Twin -Plugging in my klipsch's for the first time in the new house to listen to elliott smith on the day of his death. the sound of his discography wafting throughout the whole house was a true delight.

Bronco: My 6-year-old discovering Green Day. My 9-year-old discovering Metallica. Both discoveries have awakened something in them that is hilarious and awesome to behold. And seeing Tool was pretty flaming awesome.

JD: March: Realizing I’d never heard this Stones song, nodding along to the opening riff, and exploding into my biggest laugh of the year at the first line.

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June: The Joni Mitchell performance in the Rolling Thunder Review documentary on Netflix. June: Catching the Thom Yorke Anima short film at the IMAX theater on the Upper West Side. July: Code and I getting a perfect 99 score on the greatest rendition of “Emotional Rescue” karaoke you’ll ever see. October: Playing the music game WAY too deep into the night with BC and Chap (look for the next day’s hangover on my worst moments list).

Chap: Patrick Stickles singing "I'm sorry dad no I'm not making this up" to his dad in the audience.

Nasty: Listening to music at BOB. Nothing but jams that whole weekend. Driving in with Laser - GOOGLE MUSIC JAMS. Trip to the casino - JAMS. Hanging out on the deck - JAMS. Driving to the course with Blazer Black - Fuck Buttons - Sweet Love for Planet Earth aka JAMS. In the cart with Code - JAMS. Driving Chappy and Sfreddo to the rental car - JAMS (but quietly).

Larse: Greta Thunberg speech dubbed to metal

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Best Shows Seent in 2019

Nasty: The Killers @ Summerfest. Hot Fuss will always be an all-time favorite album and Mr. Brightside is the best pop song of our lifetime, IMO. Also, my wife loves them which is about the only band in middle of the venn diagram.

Larse: The Lonely Island at Summerfest

BC: Dead & Company

JD: 1. The Rapture at Music Hall of Williamsburg 2. Viagra Boys at Bowery Ballroom 3. The Strokes and Parkay Boys at the All Points East fest in London with drunk lads screaming along to the guitar parts 4. B Boys at Union Pool 5. Titus Andronicus at Bowery Ballroom 6. Avey Tare at Market Hotel 7. Tame Impala at MSG 8. Weeping Icon at Elsewhere 9. Priests at Elsewhere

Code: interpol - chicago theater illuminati hotties - hideout it looks sad - subT downstairs robyn - riviera steve malkmus - art institute eleventh dream day - hideout colleen green - sleeping village swearin' - lincoln hall surf curse - subT shura - the bottle

Chap: TA was the only show I saw. It was great!

Bronco: All of them. They were each great in their own way. Aside from Tool I was able to interact with the band members at each of the shows. One I didn't have a ticket for and scored one at the door. One was in the tiniest venue I've seen a show at. One had a surprisingly entertaining opening act. And Tool surprised me with how much I enjoyed an arena show despite being so far away I couldn't see the facial features of the band members. And there was SOOOOOOO much weed being smoked in the Garden that night. And I was with a few good buddies. And I was able to sell my fourth ticket for twice what I paid, simulatenously covering me and my fourth friend who had to bail because his life sucks because his wife sucks.

Confession of 2019

Nasty: I consume more music at my cushy, suburban OrangeTheory workout classes than in my own free time. S/O to Coach Vanessa for having some Girl Talk on her playlists.

Codem: i had more fun listening to stuff that i already knew about than stuff that was coming out.

BC: I saw a Yacht Rock cover band and didn't hate it -I succumbed to social pressure and saw DMB -I didn't realize until the last minute that my favorite album was released in 2018 (Wild Nothing). Removing it greatly reduced my loyalty to my list.

Bronco: I'm losing my edge. I enjoyed way more lady singer bands this year than in any other year.

Chap: Couldn't get my shit together on the tracks list so just posted a random playlist

Larse: Not really a confession but more of a TIL (today I learned), but Raphael Saadiq was an original member of Tony! Toni! Tone!

Biggest Disappointment of 2019

Bin: The National @ Summerfest. From the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel "the frontman was completely detached, even confessing at one point that he was excited to get back home to his family. The result was an incredibly depressing show — which, given the band's dour songs, is really saying something." ... Huge Bummer.

BC: Didn't see nearly enough shows with nearly enough of yous

Chap: Sturgill Simpson... unlistenable!

Bronco: Baroness.

Laser: Modest Mouse opening for The Black Keys

Code: i was really messed up by dave berman's passing. i had tickets to see him play at the end of august. it was going to be my first catching him live and in concert. i had waited for this moment since i picked up american water back in 2003. two weeks before he was supposed to come through town, he up and died. also, much less of a bummer, the chromatics show in miami that Arden and i were going to attend got canceled two days before the show.

Most Overrated of 2019

Nasty: Kanye's shoes

Chap: LEGACY! LEGACY! – Jamila Woods seems to have been highly regarded? Not my thing

BC: FKA Twigs

Bronco: Baroness.

JD: Big Thief

Code: cancel culture

Larse: Mayor Pete

Make it Stop 2019

Chap: In my house, the Nutcracker Suite. It's great, until the 300th time that day.

Nasty: Cage the Elephant (but children, instead of elephant, and in real life, not the band)

BC: Lizzo

Code: lizzo

JD: Memes

Larse: Trump

Bronco: News

Biggest TBH Regret of 2019

Chap: Can't seem to get to more than one show per year; Jessica Pratt in a church by my old place

JD: Missin’ dat Pratt yet Nick!

BC: Should've listened to the Kanye album. Should've spent more time with the Deerhunter record.

Rotty: Skipping CHVRCHES at Summerfest

Code: another year with no fog party

Nasty: Not going to Indy 500. lol jk.

Bronco: I didn't buy tickets to a few shows I would've liked to have seen. One of them I went to the venue and didn't get in. That bummed me out, but I crossed the street and had a few beers by myself for good measure, so it wasn't a total loss.

Detective Murtaugh of 2019

JD: Everything.

Bronco: Shows that don't start until 10pm. That Girl Band show nearly wrecked me.

Chap: How much I loved Bruce Springsteen's adult contemporary western-themed old-man album.

BC: The ten seconds I lasted with 1000 GECS

Nasty: For the life of me - I cannot figure out how to operate the "play next" queue on these apps.

Laser: Lizzo at Summerfest - lot of younglings running around; people were racist towards Lizzo's security guards, she vowed not to come back to MKE, one of the most segregated cities in America :(

Resolution for 2019 Status

Laser: — How It Went: Who can even remember this shit...I'm sure it was that I'd do better at keeping track or listen to more shit people suggest and I'm sure I failed.

BC: Listen to one new album a week; reboot the Classic Album Review Club How It Went: Noooot toooo gooooood

Code: catch ovlov, pictureplane, washer, chromatics, EMA and colleen green live this year. How It Went: i saw chromatics and colleen green. last i checked .400 gets you into cooperstown.

JD: Greater consciousness of how I’m using my attention - an ineffectual and meaningless protest of the ways the world is burning down in pursuit of it. How It Went: Not bad! I especially nailed the “ineffectual and meaningless” part.

Chap: Learn Piano; Guilt Joe Dons into finally inviting me to a concert. How It Went: Learned some piano but got to busy for it... Couldn't guilt JD to invite me anywhere but I DID invite him to a show! The same one I went to! With him!

Bronco: Read more 'classic’ books. I didn’t read many of them, even in school (especially in school? Never could read a book I was told to read). But I’m leaning in the sci-fi direction of 'classics’. I just read Dune this summer, and wrapped up Fahrenheit 451 the other day. I’m feeling an unexplained need to beef up my nerd credentials and this seems the way to accomplish it. How It Went: Nope. Fell back in to zombie-apocalypse genre series that I've been reading for a while. But I am currently reading arch-nerd Neal Stephenson's "Fall; or, Dodge in Hell". It's almost 900 pages, I feel like I've been reading for months now, and because I'm a stupidly slow reader, I read only before going to bed, and can only make it 10 minutes before falling asleep and hitting myself in the face with my phone, I'm only 25% of the way through. But man is it painting a creepy yet eerily plausible scene of the near future. Guy just knows how to write.

Nasty: Hope last year I was smart enough to leave this blank. (editor’s note: [removes shoes, pets cat, puts on slippers, retires to favorite easy chair, sips martini, slowly pulls reading glasses out of cardigan pocket, dusts them off, loads todaysbiggesthits.tumblr.com, scrolls to ‘Resolution for 2019’] “Nasty: I’m sticking with it - get to NY for a show with JD.”)

Resolution for 2020

BC: See Phish in 2020

Codem: i'm making it easier this year. catch ovlov, washer, EMA and colleen green live this year. bonus points: see dom's much anticipated return to the stage.

Bronco: Build a vinyl collection. I know I dumped on Brendon for suggesting he press copies of Carpet Affair, but my kid's getting way into music and listening to it on his own (via Alexa in my bedroom which is super fucking annoying), so we're getting him his own record player and I think it's going to be a cool activity to go record store diving for whatever classics we can scrounge up.

JD: Get to more shows. Take more aimless strolls spinning tunes.

Bin: Send an email about music on the TBH! thread.

Larse: None

Chap: Eh I'm cool

Most Anticipated of 2020

Code: my man dom said that he is coming back to the world this year. i have to believe that he'll keep his word. i'm thinking 2020 is going to be the year for chromatics' Tommy.

Chap: TWOD, Perfume Genius, Jason Isbell

BC: Huey Lewis and the News, Tame Impala, Run the Jewels

Bronco: Kvelertak and Mastodon, maybe some surprise extra Tool material?

JD: Working Men’s Club

Nasty: Spotify getting Jay-Z's catalog back.

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the-colony-roleplay · 6 years ago

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COLONY 22′S 2ND ANNUAL APPRECIATION AWARDS

Oh, how much could change in a year.

Alex Donovan remembered last year, as disinclined as he’d been to agree to be one of the three hosts for the night, how he’d watched the frantic decorating committee’ and thought: well at least I’m not one of those unfortunate fools.

And this year, well—he was very nearly one of those unfortunate fools. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he was one of a ‘committee’, but he’d been helping bring out boxes to the decorating team all ever-loving day, and several hours ago they’d begun asking his opinion on things and he’d declined to answer at first. But somehow, come 4pm, he’d found himself up to his neck in garlands and twinkle lights and about to be late for his afternoon training session.

When he walked into the auditorium after dinner (sporting black trousers, a white T-shirt and a deep blue blazer) he had to admit he was impressed. And maybe just a little proud. Because looking around, the room had truly been transformed. A lot of hard work and love had gone into it, clearly, and if nothing else, it would surely make Mitch beam. And Heaven bless that ever-optimistic, selfless man—he deserved at least that this season. It made any suffering on Alex’s part worth it, knowing the event was that much more likely to be the success that the original Calyset Head of House dreamed it would be.

What set this year apart from the last—aside from the Reformist-shaped elephant in the room—is that they’d gone full out traditional Christmas this year. Not wintery blues and silvers (a good thing, too, because it may have just been a throw back to the Modius’ Brink Tower reopening—not a failure by any means, but just a sore spot on the roof of the mouths of too many here), but instead, warm and boasting golds and reds and forest greens. Rich colours hung from the walls and pillars in thick tapestries and glowing lights. Ribbons and wreaths and candles sprinkled the room with a bursting festiveness, and not one, but three Christmas trees brightened up the room—even the damaged areas, rubble and broken seats simply became the contrasting foundation of effervescent decorations.

There was even mistletoe. In one or two surreptitious places, waiting patiently for unsuspecting victims.

Okay... so it did look a little like Christmas had thrown up all over the old theatre. But hell—if that was its worst flaw, they had nothing to complain about in their post-apocalyptic today.

People filtered in slowly, chatting and laughing and mingling about, making comments about their outfits, the decor... and Alex supposed that even those who thought the night a waste of time, at the very least, it couldn’t be said that it hadn’t already brought a certain atmosphere of light-hearted relief over the modest, island Colony. Even if just for a night.

At about a quarter after seven, the house lights faded in and out three times, a voice coming over the loud speaker to ask that people take their seats, as the ceremonies were about to start. Taking that as his queue (and Christ, he still couldn’t believe Mitch had asked him to do the opening speech this year—though somehow the fact that Alex had been convinced was less of a surprise, considering his track record with being unable to tell that man no, for just about anything) Alex politely excused himself from his conversation with Cambie, and threw Caelan a grin and a wink when he spotted him striding by with Isha and Clay. Left a smile and a light touch on Clayton’s elbow as they crossed each other’s paths.

And then he was trotting up stage steps, with people still settling into their seats. The lights dimmed, a spotlight panned over to him, and applause grew from the crowd. Chuckling, eyes cast down as he shook his head, he found his place at the podium:

“Good evening, Colony 22. I’d like to start off by saying thank you, to everyone who worked so hard to make this night happen—and that includes all of you who have participated just by being in attendance tonight. Truly, we appreciate it. Because it’s not just about the decorations or the preparation, the drinks or the snacks—though I’m sure the food and drink is the main reason most of you even bothered to show up,” he paused, grinning. “But it’s impossible to nurture a sense of community without all of you—the community. So thank you.” Another pause, and he pointed a wagging finger at Mitch in the second row. “And if nothing else, you can all go home knowing that you’ve put a shit-eating grin on that man’s face—which is apparently how I got suckered into opening tonight’s ceremonies. So while we’re at it, if any of you figure out how to say no to Mr. Douglas, please be sure to come by my office later and loop me in. Preferably before he asks me about doing this again next year.”

A warm, light chuckle from the audience, and with a smile, Alex continued. “Now, as you’re all aware, I’m not Mitch. I have no poetic to weave you about the trials and tribulations we face on a daily basis and how they bring us together in strength and unity. But that isn’t to say what he has said, and what this night now represents is not of value. In fact, I very much believe it to be true. In times such as these, in the face of change and conflict and rebellion, now more than ever it’s important to remember how we got this far. How we have survived, and how we continue to survive. Because we have not done it through selfishness, or greed. We have not accomplished as much as we have by functioning only as every person for themselves. We have gotten this far through cooperation and support. Through contribution and sacrifice, comfort and strength.

“I have been here next to three years now, and I have watched so many of you grow, and I am so proud of each and every one of you. What I think is too easy to forget in all of this, is that after what we’ve all faced, every day done is an accomplishment. Every day, we could choose to give up, to turn back, or throw in the towel. Rebuilding is hard. Starting over in the face of loss can feel impossible. So remember to take the time to recognize that.” He paused, threw a grin at the audience. “Well, look at that, I guess I did have some poetic to weave. Kindly blame Douglas for that too, would you?”

As the audience laughed again, Alex straightened, his tone lightening. “Alright, I’m not going to tell you too much about the awards themselves—I’ll leave that to our lovely hosts, whom I’m very excited to call to the stage and not just because then I can get the hell out of here. But before I do that, I’ll remind you that after the ceremonies there is a reception down at Catch 22, where they’ll be serving food and drinks, and I believe I heard a rumour or two about dancing and karaoke. For which I plan on making myself very scarce. But nevertheless, have an excellent time tonight, happy holidays, and congratulations on wrapping up another fantastic year.

“And now without further adieu—may I present your hosts for this evening: Orson Hurst, Elsa Copland and Mouse Quinley.”

A/N: AND SO IT BEGINS!!!

Well folks... Welcome to the last event of 2018! It has not just been a good year at Colony 22, but a spectacular one. I feel like we too, (much like our characters in verse,) have special cause for celebration—not only do we have our fifth year anniversary coming up, but this year has gifted us so many excellent, long-term members joining the family and exciting new plots, characters and development.

This event will punctuate the year with a bit of light hearted fun that we hope will lead nicely into an exciting 2019 at the Colony, which Lottie and I already have big plans for. We thank you all for being here, for your commitment, enthusiasm and love, and we hope you all stay with us here and continue to write and grow with us for a long time to come!

Now, most of the information you need about the Event Rules themselves I have already posted in detail and you can find here. Make sure you are familiar with them before starting, if you are new to events at the Colony. And if you’re not new, well, it never hurts to have a refresher!

A friendly reminder to send any questions you have about the event to the main blog ASK as we’d prefer to answer them publicly so the knowledge can be shared with everyone, as it’s likely that if you have a question, someone else may be wondering the same thing!

Remember too that this post marks the beginning of the first part of the evening: The Ceremonies only. You are welcome to RP anything that is leading up to the ceremonies, or during, but nothing past into the reception, until you see a post on the mod blog indicated the shift to the second part of the night, which won’t be until after (our real time) Christmas!

Over the next few days, you will see nomination and award reveals on the main blog, and as mentioned in the info post already posted (and linked above), you may continue old threads, or start new ones that are event related (self paras or graphics work too! Just remember that if you make any graphics in photoshop or anything send them to the graphics blog to be posted!)

Keep in mind that activity will still be monitored over Christmas. I still expect you to meet activity, and I still expect you to contact the main if you need an extension before I have to go chasing you down. The holidays are stressful enough—please do not send me on a wild goose chase. That said, I obviously get it: Holidays can be stressful and busy! So just let us know if you need an extension or hiatus!

I will do everything in my power to make sure all the awards are queued and posted promptly and when they’ve been promised—but if something comes up, things may shift a little here and there—nothing that should have too much of an effect though. The Reception will hopefully be triggered sometime between the 27th and 29th, depending on schedules.

Alright, I believe thats all I got for now! But happy holidays everyone, and enjoy! The first awards post will likely roll out here in a few hours!

Much love,

xxPapa!Mod

#col22awards2 #col22admin #literate rp #original rp #mature rp

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hellomissmabel · 7 years ago

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Vino o Gelato part 2

MASTERLIST

AO3 account

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: The reader grew up believing someone else was her father. Her real father had been sent away by his family.

Word count: 2.575

Summary: Y/N travels to Italy in search of her biological father. As she’s looking for a place to stay, she walks into the small artisanal gelateria where Steve works. He helps her get in touch with her father and introduces her to his friends. But is Y/N really ready to meet her father? Or is there another reason why she should stay in Italy?

A/N: Written for @yourtropegirl

Series masterlist can be found here

“SHE IS TONY STARK’S DAUGHTER?” Nat’s fist collides hard on the surface of the table, tension rolling in thick, fuming waves off the redhead. As she gets up from her seat, her chair scrapes against the terrace floor with screeching disturbance, her pounding footsteps towards the staircase leading to her room like an elephant dancing the boogie at a party.

“Is that a bad thing?,” you squeak while your eyes watch her in nervous surprise, intimidated by her sudden outburst as you turn to Steve for help.

“No, no, Y/N, of course it’s not a bad thing. It’s just that – “ Steve sighs and his voice drops to a whisper, his eyes glued on Nat’s back as she disappears upstairs.

“Nat used to date this guy, Clint. He had a dog, Lucky, and one day as he was checking the harvest, he left Lucky unattended. The dog must’ve seen a mouse or a rat or another kind of rodent and chased after it. There were a couple broken bottles but Tony was furious and fired Clint on the spot. Clint relied on Tony for his work visa and got deported back to the States a week later. Nat and Clint tried the whole long-distance relationship thing but it didn’t work out.”

“Natasha can sometimes be a bit heavy in her reactions, Y/N, but that’s not your fault,” May chimes in to your defence, a warm smile tugging at her lips even though there’s worry flashing behind the motherly look in her eyes. “Truth is, everybody is on edge because Tony has big plans for this little town and not everyone is on board with them. Even Bucky thinks he should leave the integrity of this town intact. That’s the main reason why people come here, to enjoy the history.”

“Maybe we should talk about this somewhere more private?” Steve squeezes your knee under the table, his voice low and soft as he looks over to May who nods in agreement. “Maybe I can take you up to your room?”

You both get up from your seat, smiling apologetically and bidding everyone else goodbye. Steve guides you back to where you stored your bags and picks them up with ease as you both take the stairs to the second floor, the room on the far right. You close the door behind him as Steve places your luggage next to the bed, sitting down on the edge and waiting for you to join him.

The room is relatively small but with character and charisma. The walls are painted a soft grey with one olive accent wall. The bed is in the far corner next to the window that takes up the entire side of the wall. It’s not an ideal placement, but you kind of like the idea that when you sit halfway on the bed, you have a perfect view of the picturesque street out front. And of course there are courtains.

Just like in the gelateria, you take a seat next to him and neatly fold your hands in your lap. “He’s your father, and you have a right to speak to your father and get to know him,” he reasons, looking down at the ground below. “I’ll take you to Bucky first thing tomorrow morning and he’ll take you to see Stark, how about that?”

“Thank you, Steve,” you reply gratefully, shooting him a little smile. “But what if he doesn’t want to see me.”

“Y/N, he sent you a check, he tried to reach out. He knows you exist. Trust me, he’ll want to meet you.”

“How can you be so sure?,” you whisper sadly, looking outside the window and watching the people pass by. There’s a young boy carrying what appears to be a bag full of groceries towards the door, reaching out to get the doorbell and ringing it. Wanda comes out and thanks him kindly, pecking him on the cheek.

Steve follows your eyes and hums. “That’s May’s son, Peter.”

You smile at his brown mop of hair and chuckle. “He doesn’t look like her son, though.”

“That’s because he takes more after his father,” Steve comments before sealing his lips shut, sucking in a sharp breath of air. “I – I’m not sure if it’s my place to tell you this but you have a right to know.”

He feels obliged to speak to you about Peter even though it’s none of your business. Wringing his hands together with a wry expression, Steve continues where he left off. “Peter is Tony’s son, too. May is the reason Tony decided to start up his business here and not somewhere else, in a bigger city.” Steve pauses and scans your face. “It didn’t last, Tony fell out of love with May and in love with his wife, Pepper.”

All colour is suddenly drained from your face. “He has a wife?,” you mumble hoarsely, avoiding Steve whose eyes carry a mixture of empathy, sympathy and most of all, pity. “And a son?”

Watching Wanda wave at Peter one last time before he disappears out of your line of sight, you swallow the lump in your throat. He has a wife and a son. He doesn’t need another kid, he doesn’t need his long-lost daughter to suddenly appear at his doorstep.

Steve senses your inner struggle is eating you up inside and with his pointer finger he lifts your chin to meet his eyes. “You’re still his daughter. It doesn’t matter if he’s married. It doesn’t matter if he’s got another kid. What matters is that you’ve got his DNA. What matters is that you are his daughter and you want to meet him, too.”

You didn’t bring anything formal with you in your luggage, so you were kinda at odds with yourself about what to wear when you would finally, after all those years, meet the man that’s responsible for 50% of your genetic material. A man that wasn’t there to raise you, but also a man who wanted to be there for the rest of your life. You figured a lovely, modest sundress would be appropriate and after asking Steve for his blessing, you made your way to Stark’s villa.

Steve kept his promise and asked Bucky if he wanted to arrange a meeting with Tony, but made him promise not to talk to him about you and that you had arrived in Italy a couple days ago. So here you were, waiting in the grand foyer of your father’s Italian home, ankles crossed and fidgeting nervously with the skirt of your dress.

“I think I’m going to die,” you mumble to Bucky who insisted on accompanying you inside. You still believe he’s trying to charm his way into your good graces, which you don’t mind at all, but you’d rather reserve your flirting for another, blond man who’s wormed his way into your heart.

Bucky scratches the back of his head with a chuckle. “Nah, you’ll be fine. He’s not going to eat you or anything.”

Turning to Bucky, you study the brunet with careful consideration. “Why do you still work for him if you can’t stand him?”

With a deep sigh, Bucky runs his hand down his face. “I don’t even know where to start…” Bucky shrugs half-heartedly. “I like the ladies a lot, ya know? So one day, Tony and I fell for the same lass. We were like two dogs fighting for a bone.”

You snort and roll your eyes at Bucky. “Let me guess, a third dog got the bone?”

His eyes turn a little harder at your comment. “She married Tony,” Bucky replies dryly, all humour lost from his voice.

“You and Pepper?,” you almost shout at him, but Bucky’s fingers are quicker than your tongue and he wraps his hand in front of your mouth before the words can slip out.

“Yes, I was drunk and horny, okay? It was a stupid move and Tony knows I love a good competition. But Pepper turned me down cold and honestly, I’m glad she did. Pepper ain’t no woman for me. Way too prissy. But we’re all good now.”

“Don’t let Tony hear that, Bucky,” a tall blonde woman tells Bucky as she descends the staircase with utmost grace and elegance. Her long legs are beautifully accentuated by the tight and short pencil skirt that would make any other woman uncomfortable and self-conscious in the blink of an eye.

With a stunning smile, she turns her attention from the brunet to you. “Bucky still prefers girls, he isn’t ready for a woman,” she winks before holding out her arm and showing you the way to the dining room.

You follow like you’ve been enslaved by this woman’s mesmerising looks, with Bucky on your heels. But Bucky isn’t impressed by Pepper, neither by her gift-wrapped insult. “She’s always like this, Y/N,” he comments casually, “Even though we buried the hatchet long ago.”

“He’ll be down in a minute, love,” Pepper tries to cut Bucky short, her sweet voice filling the room with a false sense of bravado. She’s nice to you but that doesn’t mean she has to be nice to Bucky, too. Whatever happened between them still evokes some tension in this household.

“This is where I leave ya, doll,” Bucky says as he squeezes your shoulder, ready to follow Pepper outside. “Don’t be too nervous. If conversation doesn’t flow, it’s only natural. You haven’t seen or spoken to one another yet. It’s an entirely new situation for both of you.”

You smile gratefully, your ears sparked by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. “Thanks Bucky.”

He bids you good luck one last time before disappearing around the corner, leaving every fibre and every nerve in your body on high alert as you hear the footsteps approaching. From behind the door emerges a dark-haired man with deep, lively eyes and immaculately sculptured facial hair. His fingers ruffle through his hair as he takes a seat in front of you, a little nonchalantly in his gestures as he pours himself a glass of scotch.

“So, tell me, Y/N right?” You nod with a small smile. “What can I do for you? Bucky didn’t tell me much, just said this was a meeting I would regret if I didn’t attend.” He chuckles warmly and takes a sip, waving his hand for you to pick up the conversation where he left off.

With eagerness and a fair share of anxiety, your lips move of their own volition. You don’t tell him you’re his long lost daughter straightaway. What first crosses your mind, is your mother. So you speak to him about your mother and follow the chorological order of her life and how his story intertwines with her and what role you play in this.

As your story progresses, his face grows paler and paler until not a single shred of colour remains doted on his sharp features. His glass is empty and the smirk has vanished. Tony doesn’t believe his ears. His daughter of Y/A years-old is sitting right in front of him. You’re not even half as nervous as he is right now. He wanted to be a father once he heard, he really tried to be a good father but your mother wouldn’t let him and with reason.

He was gone for 18 years and expected her to just open the door for him on the first knock. So he sent that check, thinking money would aid his case and help your mother tie up loose ends. But it only made her harder, tougher, more relentless in her decision-making. She never wanted him to be a father because you already had a father, Bruce, and she wanted to keep it that way.

During your conversation you also make sure to tell him you don’t blame him, for anything at all. You’ve never questioned Bruce’s fatherhood until you found said check. Nevertheless, deep down you’ve always known Bruce might not be your real father. You’re like two peas in a pod and you love him dearly, but over the years little tell-tale signs have informed you of the small differences between the two of you. Tony is a little uncomfortable with the fact you were raised by a stranger but all in all, he is happy your mother eventually found someone that loves her like he should’ve loved her.

And slowly but surely, the fear of inadequacy that has settled into Tony’s bones over all these years, is ebbing away. It’s being replaced by a certain curiosity and the more you tell him, the more questions he asks you. He wants to know everything about you just as much as you want to know everything about him. And you have to admit, there are quite a few similarities between you and your father. So much so you end up holding conversations until it’s time for dinner.

“You can stay for dinner if you want to, Y/N. You can meet Pepper and Peter, too, if you do decide to stay.” He smiles down at you as he tentatively tests the waters, embracing you gently. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to meet you. Peter always wanted another sibling and Pepper and I’ve been trying but…

But you’re not as gentle as him and hug him as close as humanly possible. “It’s okay, Tony,” you smile softly. “But I’m afraid I can’t,” you reply a little disappointed because you want to stay but know that if you do, you might miss out on something else. “But maybe we can talk some more tomorrow? Maybe we can have lunch together?”

“Lunch sounds perfect, Y/N,” Tony beams at you as he releases you from his arms. “Come whenever suits you best. I’ll be home all day.”

“This was very nice, Tony. I’m really glad I came here.”

“I’m really happy you came here, too, kiddo.” Tony pauses and looks at you in the most loving way. He is beyond elated he has his daughter back. He wants to catch up on so many things, he wants to do so many things with you, get to know you inside out. He wants to be a father, starting today.

“You know, Y/N…,” he pauses and locks eyes with you, amber flecks swirling around in the liquid gold of his irises. “Your mother, she was like ice cream to me. She’s soft and sweet and versatile and so damn addictive. But she could be cold, too. Didn’t take any shit from me.”

“Sounds like my mother,” you chuckle, endeared by Tony’s kindness and the fondness he speaks with.

“Where are you staying? Maybe I can take you instead of Bucky?”

You hesitate a little, deciding against telling him you’re staying at May’s. “I’m staying in town, with a friend I made earlier, Steve. But thank you for the offer, Tony.”

His eyes light up in amusement. “A male friend, hm?,” he jokes tongue-in-cheek. “And don’t call me Tony, you can call me Dad, but only if you want to.”

“Yes, Dad, a male friend,” you chuckle happily as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” he calls out after you as you make your way back to the front door where Bucky’s waiting for you in his car, ready to take you back to another most important appointment, with a certain blond, male friend.

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @4theluvofall @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplanbuckybarnes @nenyakj @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @barnes-heaven @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @mellifluous-melodramas @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean65 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @beyondbarnes @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic @always-an-evans-addict @petersunderroos @thegreentgirl @nedthegay

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Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you!

#vino o gelato part 2 #vino o gelato #steve x reader #altcoffeeshopau #ice cream shop au #steve rogers

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shooktim-blog · 6 years ago

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One of my favorite aspects about visiting Disneyland has nothing to do with the attractions – it’s the food. I’m not alone either, the food offerings at all Disney properties are so diverse and delicious that they’ve sparked entire web sites devoted only to the culinary side of the Disneyland experience. Since I’ve now visited Disneyland and Disney California Adventure on four different trips, today I want to share some of my favorite bites or go-to meals when visiting the Happiest Place on Earth.

Breakfast

Chicken and Mickey Waffles

On a recent visit to Disneyland, I made reservations at the storied restaurant on Main Street, Carnation Cafe. Originally an ice cream parlor, today Carnation Cafe is best known for serving up all-American classics, including menu items that Walt Disney himself loved. I was eager though to try something that wasn’t on their normal menu, a special item that had a limited appearance at the cafe, but I hope it returns as a permanent item. The Mickey-shaped waffle and chicken was a delicious start to my day, featuring of course those mouse inspired waffles that have made the cafe famous amongst die-hard fans. It was the perfect mix of sweet and savory and I even loved the sprinkles on top.

Lunch & Dinner

Cozy Cone

Modeled after the iconic Wigwam Motel on Route 66, most of us remember the Cozy Cone Motel from the “Cars” movie franchise. At Disney California Adventure it’s been reimagined as a great place to grab a snack, all in cone form of course. My favorite lunch item isn‘t for the faint of heart but, believe me, it’s well worth the extra calories. The Bacon Mac & Cheese cone is a serving of creamy mac & cheese mixed with roasted bacon in a bread cone. If you’re still hungry afterwards, head to one of the other cones for some ice cream.

Ronto Wrap

The newest addition to Disneyland also has its fair share of great snacks and meals. Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge opened a few months ago and almost immediately it was the foodie side that interested people the most. Blue milk, grabbing a cocktail at Oga’s Cantina and more all captivated guests, but my favorite bite was at the modest Ronto Roasters. Located next to the market stall the thing to get here is the Ronto Wrap: roasted pork and grilled sausage with peppercorn sauce and tangy slaw wrapped in pita. Paired with a chilled glass of Meiloorun Juice and I had the perfect meal.

Lamplight Lounge

Located on Pixar Pier in Disney California Adventure, the Lamplight Lounge is a Pixar-themed restaurant that I couldn’t wait to try. A table-service restaurant, advance reservations are absolutely necessary as it’s one of the most popular restaurants in the park. My first experience though patronizing the Lounge last year frankly didn’t live up to my expectations. Maybe it was what I ordered or just my mood, but I walked away with mixed feelings about the experience. That’s why I’m so happy that a friend encouraged me to give them another try, adamant that obviously I had been there on an off day. It was with a bit of hesitation that I arrived a few weeks ago to enjoy a quiet lunch at the Lounge, and this time the experience was everything I hoped it would be. Everything inside the Lounge pays homage to Pixar, with so many hidden Easter Eggs it would take months to find them all. The menu matches the décor and the quality and creativity of the dishes impressed me. This was what I had imagined the Lamplight Lounge to be like and I’m thrilled I gave them a second chance.

Café Orleans

Like many restaurants in Disneyland, Café Orleans has seen a lot of change over the years. Located in New Orleans Square, the Cafe originally opened in 1966 as the Creole Cafe before being renamed to Cafe Orleans in 1972. It was a modest establishment until 2006 when it became a table service restaurant and today is a favorite place to eat for many guests. The atmosphere and decor can’t be beat, but I was there to try a few of the restaurant’s most well-known dishes and I wasn’t disappointed. We started with the fries, which are tossed with Parmesan and garlic before ordering the massive main course, Disney’s famous Monte Cristo. This isn’t your average sandwich, it’s deep fried and dusted with sugar but it’s also enormous, so come hungry. If you still have room, don’t miss the Mickey-shaped beignets for dessert. Since this restaurant is a cult favorite, make sure to secure reservations well in advance.

Snacks

Personally, I think the many snacks offered around the parks are the real food highlight of any trip to Disneyland. I would gladly skip a table service restaurant in lieu of snacking my way around the parks. There are many not-to-miss bites, but a few of my favorites, and some of the most famous, include these incredible Disney snacks.

Mickey Pretzels

Guests to Disneyland are very quickly acclimated to the sight of Mickey-shaped everything, even hidden Mickeys found around the parks. One of the most beloved snacks echoes this iconic shape and the soft pretzels are easily one of the most popular snacks in the park. They’re widely found and are the perfect snack to help fuel your fun-filled day in Disneyland.

Corn Dog

Like all classic Disney snacks, the corn dogs found at the Little Red Wagon at the top of Main Street, U.S.A have created a legion of loyal fans. While they’ve been around for decades, it was only at the start of the millennium when they dramatically changed the batter and in the process created a corn dog that has almost addictive properties. They’re also enormous, so putting them in the snacks category may be inaccurate, but no matter how you classify them they’re not to be missed.

Dole Whip

Another cult classic, this tasty dessert has become the stuff of legend among Disney devotees. It’s a simple enough concoction, a soft serve pineapple treat served in a cup. You can also get a Pineapple Float, but the purists go for the original. In Disneyland, the Dole Whip is found at the Enchanted Tiki Room in Adventureland, but be sure to plan your visit and use mobile ordering to avoid waiting.

Seasonal Treats

Throughout the year there are any number of special food items for sale honoring everything from Disney anniversaries to major holidays, but my favorite seasonal snacks happen during the Christmas season. On any given day, the food options at Disneyland are considerable. Whether it’s in Disneyland itself, Disney California Adventure or Downtown Disney, the many options mean that you’ll never get tired of trying new things. During the holidays though, Disney rolls out even more choices; special holiday offerings showcasing the best of the season. Before I left home, I printed off checklists of the special holiday food items for sale so I could better plan my snacking experience. That being said, I was only able to get through a tiny fraction of the list, there was just too much to eat. From holiday-inspired churros to the incredible Festive Foods Marketplace in Disney California Adventure, the options were a little overwhelming but certainly delicious.

First-time visitors to Disneyland know that the attractions will be an important aspect of their trip, but few understand the important role food plays. Whether it’s an elaborate meal or a simple snack, for millions of people Disneyland food is a key part of the experience and one that is not to be missed.

What’s your favorite bite in Disneyland?

The post My Favorite Disneyland Food Experiences in 9 Bites appeared first on LandLopers.

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mfmagazine · 6 years ago

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Tiffany Hines

Article by Diane Walsh

Photo by Annette Navarro

If you haven’t noticed Tiffany Hines on either the LA or Toronto entertainment scene then you haven’t been paying, enough, proper attention. She’s hopping amazing! Appearing all over the place, on multiple popular TV series not only as an actress but also as a singer - AND - she can dance. Tiffany struck me as someone with a real nice, down-home attitude. A person, modest about her talents and accomplishments, yet worthy of being a role model for young women. On top of that…nobody can help but notice she’s gorgeous to boot! The ‘total package’ as we [*WINK*] occasionally, annoyingly-crass-journalists, explete, from time to time when we see a gem. And a diamond in the rough Tiffany sure is. You star in the new CW TV-series, Nikita, as Jaden’ What does she mean to you? Tell us Jaden’. Most people will see her as the mean girl at first, but to me she is so much more. What makes her interesting is that in the beginning she comes across as a tough girl, but as we get to know her we discover she also has this vulnerable side. The tough exterior is all she has ever known. She relies on that to protect the real Jaden underneath that has never felt love and acceptance and wants it more than anything in the world. When I first read the pilot it really intrigued me how hard she is at first, but how fiercely she tries to cover up her feelings for Thom. I was like, oh... I see you Jaden... I get you. And what we can expect from the series?

As the show progresses, we will get to learn more about each of the characters. Who they were before they came to Division and how they ended up there. And of course we will learn more about Michael and Nikita's past. You can definitely expect more action, and you can expect more writing that continues to keep you guessing. I constantly find myself reading scripts with a bag of popcorn, flipping feverishly through them and going "What?! That did NOT just happen!" [Laughs] I hope you all enjoy watching it as much as I enjoy making it for you! It’s sweet that Nikita is being filmed in Toronto. How do you like TO by the way?

At first I was a little apprehensive about living in Toronto. I am a country mouse through and through! So being surrounded by all this concrete and all these buildings in downtown Toronto, instead of trees and yards was a bit of a change for me. But now I absolutely love it. I love exploring the city. And I'm proud to say I am becoming very streetcar and subway savvy. This from the girl that takes a cab in NYC to go three blocks because I'm scared I will get lost! [Laughs] But yeah, Toronto is great. I love filming here. The people are amazing, there's amazing Canadian destinations I can see on my days off...and the Poutine, Tim Hortons Coffee, and Ketchup chips are addicting! Are your Canadian fans any different from your American ones?

I think all my fans are great! It's flattering to know I have them in both countries as well as the rest of the world. I am just really grateful for all their love and support, because without them I would never be able to keep doing what I love. I want to share as much of this journey with them as I can. How did you enjoy playing in the romantic-comedy movie, Perfect Combination, alongside Christian Keyes, Angell Conwell, Kareem Grimes, and Ayo Sorrells?

We had such a blast shooting that movie! From day one we felt like the best of friends. We had so much fun on set, but everyone was so professional and determined to make a great film. As shooting continued, we actually became a family. In this business you are constantly on the go and often it's hard to keep those relationships going after you wrap the film. I feel so blessed that now so many of them are my closest friends. Even the Executives of Tri-Destined Studios who produced the film are like family and keep in touch! I feel so fortunate to have had that experience, and I truly love each of them dearly. Any favorite brand promotions that you’ve done or would like to do in the future? Old Navy again perhaps?

I really enjoyed my time with Old Navy. I am also a huge video game playing geek so I think it would be cool to do promotions for a video game company like Activision or EA Sports. And since I love beauty products and makeup, I think it would be interesting to promote a beauty or makeup line. But the one rule I live by is, that I really have to be passionate about something, and truly BELIEVE in a product if I am going to promote it. Grey's Anatomy, Heroes, Criminal Minds, Miss Guided – this is getting to be quite a list! You must be very proud. And also – of your role as – Allysha, in the film, The Winged Man, which, I understand, was honored as the Official Selection in the Rhode Island Film Festival, LA Short Film Festival, and Big Bear Film Festival.

I am so thankful to have been in projects that have allowed me to work with and learn from so many brilliant and talented actors and actresses so early in my career. Working with people like Chandra Wilson, Tamara Taylor, Emily Deschanel, Jesse Williams, David Boreanaz, and so many more, has really been inspiring for me and has taught me so much about my craft. Playing Allysha in the Winged Man from Esperanza Productions was such a beautiful experience as well. It was such an honor to be able to participate in a project penned by Oscar nominee Jose Rivera. And I don't think there was one person, whether it was cast, crew, or producers who were not touched after participating in that film. We were all so thrilled when something we had worked so passionately on, was recognized by such respected film festivals. You as Kelly Hawkins, lesbian student, on ABC Family's Lincoln Heights is a stand-out. Why do you think that is? Along with, you, as Layla, on CSI?

Well my role as Kelly on Lincoln Heights is probably one of the most controversial roles I have ever played. In the episode I kiss one of the lead actresses. I think a lot of people were shocked at that episode. But I was happy that ABC Family pushed the envelope like that. I think that television and film is a representation of all us...our culture...who we are, and all of the experiences that make us human. I was proud to be part of something where I was representing the voice of a group of people who in the past have been seriously underrepresented and misrepresented in T.V. and film. Playing the role of Layla in CSI: Crime Scene Investigation was also very different from my other roles, because I got to sing. I played this girl who was about to win an amateur national televised singing contest, and the CSI team has to find out who murdered her. It was exhilarating and fun to incorporate both of my loves, singing and acting, into my work at the same time. A lot of people don't know that I sing and were surprised I actually did all my own singing in that episode. Of course, you’ve got to tell us about your character ‘Michelle Welton’ on Bones and ‘Lacey’ on Lie to Me. What’s that like?

One of the things I love the most about being an actress is the vast different people you get to be. I am basically getting paid to do now, what I did as a kid for free... play make believe! Michelle is a young and sweet impressionable 16 year old. She is the adopted daughter of Detective Camille Saroyan (played by Tamara Taylor) on Bones. I love playing Michelle because on the one hand she is so sweet and has a good heart, but on the other hand she is a rebellious teenager who is trying to discover who she is as a woman. My role of Lacey on Lie to Me is completely different from my role of Michelle on Bones. She is a hardened 25 year old woman who has had a rough life and makes her living as a porn star. I love putting on various different hats like that and not limiting myself to just being a character that is the mirror image of myself. Part of the reason I love acting is because I get to be so many different people from one day to the next. In any other field, I would probably be considered certifiably insane and locked in a padded room. But as an actress I get praised for it. I love working with the cast of Bones! It is one of the most fun sets I've ever had the privilege of filming on. Bones is a popular series. Why do you think it is?

I think there are a lot of reasons why it is popular. First off, the writing is amazing, and secondly, the two leads David and Emily are great at bringing those beloved characters to life. Lastly, I think that everyone on the show, from the cast, to the crew, to the producers really have amazing chemistry together and work so hard from week to week to continue bringing a quality story to life. I feel so lucky that their family opened up their arms to me. That amazing chemistry that spans across the entire family is infectious and you can see it in every scene and in every show of theirs that you watch. What’s your favorite TV series? Apart from the ones you’re in, of course!

True Blood! I AM SO ADDICTED! I think Alan Ball is a Genius! I am a huge fan of the books by Charlaine Harris. I read often, and it is very rare that I love a television or film adaptation as much as I love a book that I've read. But Alan is brilliant because he keeps even the fans of the books on the edge of our seats. I never know what's going to happen, and I am completely hooked. Also since I love music, of course my other favorite show is Glee! I can't get enough and my iPod is filled with all their music. Is Glee up your street somewhere in the future, do you think?

I definitely wouldn't turn down the offer if it came. I think anyone that did would be crazy! I don't know one actor/singer that wouldn't want to be on Glee...myself included. In your past, you’ve won several dance titles. What are your dance fortes and what’s your favorite sound to dance to?

I love every form of dance. I started out clogging, and some of my favorite types of dance I used to compete in are ballet, tap, jazz, lyrical/contemporary, musical theatre and hip hop, but I also dabble in salsa and meringue. Next I would love to learn the various ballroom styles and African dance. My favorite music to dance to is any kind of music that stirs up a strong emotion inside me. The emotion starts within in me, and then comes out in my dancing. To me, dance is emotion put into motion. Who are your role models?

I find inspiration from anywhere and anyone. Some of the people who are my role models are celebrities, some of them are the women in my family, some are close friends of mine, and some are people I have never met, but I have heard their stories and it touches me. Some of my favorites are My Grandmother, Angelina Jolie, Michelle Obama, and L.Y. Marlow of the Saving Promise organization that is fighting to end domestic violence. There are so many others, but if I named them all here now, this interview would take up hundreds of pages! [Laughs] Out of the big-name people you’ve worked with - Katherine Heigl, Ellen Pompeo, Loretta Divine, Hayden Panatierre, Kim Kardashian, Thomas Dekker, Tracy Thoms, and Jesse Williams – what stands out for you?

Every single big-name person I've ever worked with, cared less about being a big name than they did about bringing 150 percent to the table and doing a great job. At the end of the day, it is all about the work... doing not just good work, but great work. One of the most eye opening lessons I learned while working with so many brilliant actors, is that I don't have to be the best, but I do have to be better than I was the day before. If you focus on that, the sky's the limit. Great lesson! You play violin and piano, and you sing and you dance. Can you talk a bit about your musical background and your goals in this area?

When I was in the fourth grade I wanted to play the piano, but my mother said it was too big to fit in her house, so we went with the violin instead! [Laughs] I was kind of a natural at it, and from a very young age I started writing my own songs and even wrote a symphony that my elementary school orchestra performed. I also was one of the youngest kids admitted into the youth orchestra program at Florida State University when I was 10. Music, singing, and dancing has always been a huge part of who I am as long as I can remember. One of the first movies I ever saw was Singing in the Rain. I was pretty young when I saw it, maybe 5 or 6. But I will never forget when Debbie Reynolds did her Good Morning dance. I used to try to sing and dance like her and I would get so frustrated that I was too little to tip the couch over like she did during the routine! [Laughs]... As far as singing goes, when I got older, I also sang and performed in a couple bands in my hometown of Cincinnati and even recorded a few songs on my own. I really miss that side of the performing arts and eventually I would like to make my way back to it. Previously, you’d co-written some original songs and (I’m told) you still dabble in song-writing. Did you want to say a wee bit about your also being a vocalist, and your future aspirations?

I really miss my music, but I know it is only a matter of time before I get back to it. I still keep a notebook under my bed and write songs all the time. I really believe that everything happens for a reason. I feel so blessed and grateful to be working as an actress right now, so for now I am focusing on that. But when the time is right for my music, I know that it will happen too. For now, I am just going to continue writing and when I can, I will go back to the studio and start recording again. You were born in Cincinnati but grew up in Tallahassee, Florida. What do you love most of Cincinnati and Tallahassee? Is there anything you hate, like people asking you about WKRP in Cincinnati and if you’ve ever met Loni Anderson! Or if you like alligators!

My favorite things about Cincinnati are Skyline, Graeters Ice Cream, Kings Island, and WEBN Fireworks. Tallahassee was one of my favorite places to live because it had that southern hospitality feel to it. It's the kind of place where one second you could be talking to someone in line at the grocery store, and the next second they are inviting you over for homemade lemonade on their porch. I feel so blessed to have grown up in such amazing cities like Cincinnati and Tallahassee. I think it's funny when people ask me about WKRP in Cincinnati. I mean, the show was airing before I was even born, yet people ask me all the time if it is a real radio station. [Laughs] For the record, WKRP is a fictional radio station. But I think it's cool that a show that has been off the air for so long has been able to put Cincinnati on the map like that. As far as Loni Anderson goes, I haven't met her, but if I ever got the chance to, I would want to ask her if she likes Cincinnati and what she thinks about Cincinnati Skyline Chili. I am NOT a big fan of alligators... But that's probably because when my family was living in Tallahassee, one of them ended up in our backyard pool and scared the living hell out of me at a very young age. If I ever see one again in person that up close and personal I would probably crap my pants. Do you return to your birthplace in Ohio?

Yes. I still have a lot of close friends and family living in Cincinnati. I try to get back as often as I can. Especially for big holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving. After spending time in Ohio and Kentucky, and then Los Angeles when your career starting taking off – how did that feel? Any thoughts on the California-LA experience?

I absolutely love living in LA. I feel like I am in one of the biggest creative playgrounds in the world. There is so much to learn in a city like that, that embraces the arts. It was definitely scary for me to leave my hometown for LA. I had to give up everything I knew, and drive all the way across the country to this strange land where I didn't know anyone, on a whim and a prayer that things would work out. It is the hardest thing I have ever done, but I am really glad I did it, because now I absolutely love where my journey has led me. I have learned so much about life and my craft after living in California, and I can't wait to learn even more. Do you like Facebook? Do you tweet?

I am so grateful to all my fans and all the support they have shown me, so I try to Facebook and Tweet as much as possible. Without their support I wouldn't be able to do what I love, so I think it is only fair that I share that journey with them. I try to reach out to all my fans as much as possible via twitter and my Facebook Fan Page. Lastly, I got to ask…what do you like to do for fun?

For fun, I do anything and everything! Some of my favorite things to do for fun are making up recipes and cooking for my friends, playing video games, reading sci fi and mystery novels and of course, my new favorite pastime... reading comics.

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idekwidcfo · 4 years ago

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chapter four

this is the longest chapter so far

apologies for any formatting weirdness caused by copy/pasting it onto tumblr

Mar was true to her word and did not call me to come help with her groceries, so I decided to be true to mine. I lounged around watching TV until it was time to get ready for the party. Even then, I ended up ready way too soon-- I started at 6 and it simply did not take 40 minutes to shower and get dressed. I turned the TV back on for a bit so I didn’t seem like a crazy person pulling up to Mar’s a fully forty minutes early.

Finally, finally it was time that I could leave and show up at a somewhat normal time. Since we weren’t going to a show I figured it was my turn to choose the music. After a rather long moment of indecision, I put on This Is a Long Drive For Someone With Nothing to Think About. I had recently fallen in love with Modest Mouse, and I really hoped she would like it.

When I pulled up to her place, it was 6:56, which made me technically early but I was worried she actually had expected me at 6:52. I felt bad about the possibility that she was waiting anxiously, like she had said yesterday. It didn’t help that she was at my door the second I put my car in park.

“Took you long enough,” she said, but her tone made it obvious that she was teasing. She hopped in the passenger seat. “Only four minutes early! Where’s the exactly-eight-minutes-early Vaughn I was expecting?”

“That asshole took four minutes to choose what CD to play on the drive up there. You said it was somewhere in Cleveland, right?”

We lived in Akron, which meant that Cleveland was about a 45 minute drive away. Having a good album playing was, in fact, essential.

“Oh, I don’t get to choose this time?” she pouted playfully.

“We can take turns. Are you up for navigating? I’m pretty sure I figured out how to get there but I wrote down the directions to be sure,” I said, handing her the peice of paper I had copied the Mapquest instructions onto.

“Sure!” she said. “I’m glad to be useful.”

I started driving again and she examined the directions. “This seems unnecessarily complicated. I thought it was just Route 8 up to uh, one of those big freeways that lead to Cleveland.”

“I’m a normal person who does normal things like avoiding freeways when I drive. Although, to be fair to my totally normal self, my car is a little old and junky and it likes the back roads better.”

She shrugged. “Sounds fun.”

It was fun, at least more fun than driving by myself. I liked driving, so that was actually saying a lot. We stopped for gas and energy drinks but mostly we drove without speaking. I let the music of Modest Mouse wash over me as I drove. She seemed to have fun giving me directions-- it made our journey a sort of act of teamwork and I couldn’t help but feel we were bonding over it even with minimal talking.

And then we were there. I didn’t even need her to confirm for me. It was noticeably a house party. Cars were parked on both sides of the street despite the lack of sidewalk or curb and people were pouring out of the porch onto the front yard. And this was us showing up only fifteen minutes late! I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around what this would look like two hours from now.

“Uh, wow, I wasn’t expecting so many people,” I said.

“I guess I didn’t actually explain in detail how awesome Derek’s parties are,” Mar said. “Did I mention there’s a pool? And a hot tub? Although good luck getting in the hot tub, it’s usually too crowded. This is pretty much the real deal as far as house parties are concerned.”

“This is my first time going to any party that wasn’t, at best, my friend’s parents letting us have a few Bud Lights in the other room and checking in every couple of hours,” I told her.

“Ew, Bud Light? I’m sorry your friend’s parents did that to you,” she said. “Anyway, you’re in for a fun night if this is your first real party.”

We approached the house and Derek greeted us. “You made it!” he said, looking at me with a big, genuine smile.

“I did,” I said, feeling awkward about how happy he was to see me. It was nice! I appreciated it! But it was also weird. We had barely gotten to know each other, unless shoving each other in the small mosh pit last night counted.

“Oh, so he gets a warm welcome and what do I get?” Mar asked with a smirk.

“Nothing because I know your ass would have found a way here one way or the other!” Derek said. Shouted, really. It occured to me that Derek was possibly-- probably-- at least a little bit buzzed.

“Where’s the beers?” Mar asked.

“In the kitchen, duh,” Derek responded.

As Mar dragged me into the house, it sunk in that this was quite possibly the first time that I could get away with getting trashed. Not that I wanted to. Or maybe I did. I wasn’t sure. I had seen my dad trashed and it just seemed bad and embarrassing, but I was also curious about what it was like.

I noticed that nearly everyone we passed was happy to see Mar and interested in meeting me, but Mar steered me past them. “Booze now, make friends later,” she said. “Do a shot with me.”

“Uh, I’ve never really drank hard liquor, I’ve only ever had a few be--”

“Shot. With me. Now,” she said, handing me a mostly-full shot glass. I watched as she gulped it down like a kid with nasty medicine and tried to do the same. It burned, and I coughed a bit, but I didn’t splutter or spit it out or anything, which I was proud of for some stupid reason.

“Okay,” Mar said. “Cool. Now beer. Any preferences?”

“Um. PBR?”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Well you’ll fit right in. Let’s see if Derek has anything better than that though,” she said, opening the fridge and digging around. “Oh! Commodore Perry!”

She handed me a can of PBR and opened her own bottle of beer, which did look a lot fancier and higher quality than my own.

“Mmmm, let’s do one more shot before we go mingle,” Mar said, handing me the shot glass again. I held it out while she filled it up. It was a little easier with the PBR as a chaser.

I was definitely already buzzed-- not trashed, but buzzed. I was glad. I didn’t want to be one of those people who couldn’t have more than one drink without getting embarrassingly drunk.

She led me back into the living room, where the biggest group of people who had greeted her happily were hanging out. She introduced me as her boyfriend, which made me happy. Unfortunately, I forgot pretty much everyone’s names almost as soon as the conversation moved past introductions.

As Mar talked to people she clearly knew already and was already friends with, I stood awkwardly to the side. A person who was also standing awkwardly to the side near me introduced themself.

“Xavier, huh? Uh, mind me asking what pronouns you use?” I asked, realizing as I spoke that I was, in fact, drunk already. Was the PBR hitting me hard or was that just my body absorbing the shots?

Xavier’s face lit up and I knew I had hit on something there. Maybe trans people have a ‘trans’-dar the way gay people have ‘gaydar’. “He/him! Thanks for asking!”

“Mine are he/him, too. I asked because I’m trans,” I told him. I wasn’t normally that forthcoming about it, but it was so rare to meet someone else who was trans that I wanted him to know he wasn’t the only trans kid at the party.

“You are? I couldn’t even tell!”

“Well, I was lucky my dad was… passively accepting, I guess? He’s not going to get ally of the year or anything, but he did let me start hormones last year, and I was on puberty blockers before that. So I look like a man, I guess. Yay me,” I said awkwardly. I thought alcohol was supposed to help you feel less awkward but I guess I was still sober enough to feel awkward. I finished my beer. There weren’t any trash cans that I could see so I held the empty can while Xavier spoke to me. It did not help with the awkward feeling I had.

“Wow that’s awesome,” he said. “I know a lot of people online who have transitioned or are transitioning but I’ve never met someone else in real life!”

“You know, me neither,” I said. “Outside of a support group I went to a few times.”

“Oh, I should probably attend one of those, huh?” Xavier said.

I shrugged. “It didn’t help me much. I did the same thing I just did to you-- misgendered someone even though I, a transgender guy, should know better. And then I just never went back. Jeez, now you know three things about me and one of them is that I misgendered someone at a trans meeting.”

“Ha!” he said. “No worries, really, I still slip up and misgender myself sometimes. Also I’m new to this and everything but isn’t a trans person slipping out the wrong pronouns like way different than a cis person intentionally using the wrong ones, anyway? Let’s stop talking about it, seriously. Wanna smoke some weed instead?”

“Um, yes, I would very much like to smoke weed. I never have before! I was hoping to for the first time here at this party! But I should probably get my girlfriend, because I’m pretty sure she likes weed, too,” I said.

I tapped Mar’s shoulder. “Damn,” I heard Xavier say under his breath. “She’s pretty, good for you!”

I tried not to smile too big, but it was hard when I had definitely heard Xavier muttering that, and Mar’s face was so close to mine that I could see perfectly well for myself how pretty she was. “Xavier here just offered me weed, wanna come smoke with us?”

She looked at him. “Just us three or are you up to sharing with others, too?”

Xavier grinned. “The more the merrier!”

Mar turned back to her group of friends and announced, “Xavier here has weed! Who wants to go smoke?”

“I do! I do!” a few of the people said with ironic enthusiasm. Or maybe not ironic? It was hard to tell.

“Where’s Derek?” Mar muttered to herself, looking around. She turned back to me and Xavier. “It’s good manners to offer the host of the party any weed you may smoke at the party. Let’s go find him.”

“I knew that,” Xavier said with a facial expression that was between an eye-roll and a frown.

“Also, the host frequently knows really well where it’s okay to smoke in his own house,” Mar said. “Just, on a more practical note.”

“You know I’ve smoked before? This is my weed that we’re going to be smoking?” Xavier asked, quite bewildered by Mar’s helpful tone.

“Yeah, I’m talking to Vaughn, not you,” Mar said. She actually sounded a little rude and I worried that I was in the middle of a brewing confrontation.

“So you’re just ignoring me to my face before you smoke my weed?” Xavier asked.

“Jeez, you’re touchy,” Mar said. “But also you’re right, that was rude of me. I should have included you. You got any tips to share with our little cannabis virgin here?” Just like that, the air of potential confrontation had vanished.

“Cannabis?”

“I got that from him. Isn’t it hilarious? He seriously called it cannabis the first time it came up. So nerdy, so cute.”

“That is cute. Next he’ll tell us that the tetracannahydrobanoids are what get you high.”

“Is that a word? Is that the real word for it?”

“I have no idea, but it sounds right, right?”

“Hey, wait a second, now you’re ignoring me,” I said. “Maybe you just suck at focusing on more than one person at a time.”

Mar turned around and glared at me. For a long moment. I felt bad. I also felt drunk. I was, at this point, definitely feeling the beer and those two shots. After an awfully intense moment of her staring me down, her face broke into a smile. “It’s kinda nice having you tell me I suck at something instead of going on about how pretty and cool and fashionable and funny I am,” she said. “Do it more.”

She then turned back around leaving me a little shocked about that but also pretty much forced to immediately get over it. She led me and Xavier through the front door to the porch, where it turned out Derek still was and had been the whole time. “Derek, darling,” Mar said, melodramatically draping herself on his lap. “Our new best friend Xavier here has marijuana on offer and I knew it would be absolutely uncouth to smoke it without coming to find you first.”

I felt that stupid spike of jealousy and being drunk did not help. Neither did Xavier. “Damn they seem real flirty. You’re okay with that?”

“A, he’s gay, b, she’s known him longer and c, no one likes a jealous asshole, so no thank you to me being a jealous asshole,” I said. I wasn’t that drunk yet, I figured, since I could still enunciate clearly. It took some effort, but I did it.

“Let’s go!” Derek said. “Follow me, stoner conga line.”

I turned around and realized he was right. There was a whole damn conga line of people eagerly waiting for the promised weed.

“I need more beer first though so detour to the kitchen,” Derek amended.

I got another beer while they were right there, and Derek did a shot with Mar which was very okay because I was definitely not ready for a whole nother shot. We eventually made it into what was very obviously Derek’s room, with posters that looked like they had been ripped from the walls of Electric Avenue haphazardly taped to the wall and the general messiness of a teenaged boy. Or maybe he was in his early twenties. I wasn’t sure how old Derek was, now that I thought about it. He did have a very big bed, probably king sized although I couldn’t tell these types of things just by looking, and he gestured at us to go ahead and sit on it.

He opened all the windows and turned on a fan. “I’m sure they can tell I smoke in here, but I figure it’s the thought that counts,” he said, pouring a bit of scented oil into a burner. Xavier started getting the pipe ready while I watched.��

When the entire stoner conga line situated itself into a stoner circle on the bed, Xavier spoke up. “Pip?”

No one said anything. Xavier turned to me. “Say ‘pap’.”

“Like a pap smear?” I asked, utterly bewildered.

“No, like pip-pap, a silly name for ‘pipe’,” he explained.

“Pap?”

“Good job,” he said, handing me the pipe. “Now you get greens.”

“What?” Mar demanded from the other side of me.

“How do you decide who gets greens? My friends and I go ‘pip’ and whoever says ‘pap’ first gets greens. Now you all know!” Xavier explained.

“I pack a bowl and then pass left because left is law,” Mar said.

“But right is polite!” Xavier countered, a big cheesy grin on his face. Perhaps it was because I had drank that second beer rather quickly and therefore was already at four drinks, counting those two shots, but suddenly I realized he was really cute.

I had sort of hoped that someone would tell me what the fuck to do, but Mar and Xavier were too busy comparing notes on their little stoner rituals and no one else was close enough to help me-- both literally and in terms of friendship. So I lit the weed in the bowl and inhaled as hard as I could.

It hurt. I was suddenly coughing, my throat on fire. On the plus side, it got both Mar and Xavier’s attention. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I forgot it was your first time, let me go get you a drink!” Mar said. The absolute horror on her face was actually hilarious.

“No, I’ll go, and we’ll pass to the right this time and you can have the next hit,” Xavier said, getting up.

Mar shrugged. “Okay.” I passed the pipe to her as Xavier got up and she got ready to take the next hit. “There’s a trick to it, and I think it takes a second to learn, but you have to suck really gently like you’re trying to drink a soda out of a straw really slowly or something,” she said, then she did it. “See? Suck gently, no coughing.”

“I got something you can suck gently,” I whispered at her.

She had been passing it to whoever the hell it was sitting on her other side, but quickly turned back to me. “What?” she said with what I could only describe as an incredulous grin. She looked absolutely delighted but a little bit confused. It was a lot. I regretted it immediately. It had been the booze talking or something, considering we hadn’t even kissed yet.

Why hadn’t we, though? Because I hadn’t been brave enough to initiate it yet? Fuck that.

That was how Mar and I made out for the first time, surrounded by a bunch of people I didn’t know on her friend’s giant bed. It was during this that I felt the weed kick in, and it made the making out feel really good. Eventually Xavier came back with another PBR, which would be my fifth drink since I was still counting the shots as one drink each. It felt like it was important to keep track, but I wasn’t sure why.

I thought about starting up another make-out session, since I was happy to spend the rest of the party right here kissing Mar, but before I could the pipe made it back to us and she told me to try again to see if I could smoke pot without wrecking my lungs and throat.

I took the pipe and felt a tiny bit of apprehension. It was all good to joke about it but it really had been terribly painful. But I felt the need to get over it and tried again, sucking very gently.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I even got more smoke into my lungs, but that came with the benefit of not having coughed, so I counted it as a success. I opened the beer Xavier had brought me and sat there feeling the alcohol and the weed and trying to take it all in, since it was my first time smoking and my first time drinking to excess. I really wanted to go back to kissing Mar, but it seemed really rude to everyone else on the bed and maybe even Mar herself, since she seemed to want to do things like keep drinking and smoking and talking to her friends.

“It’s ass,” Mar said after what felt like three hours but, checking my phone, I realized was only about five minutes. I didn’t know what ‘it’s ass�� meant, but Xavier took the pipe and put it away.

“Anyone feel up to beer pong?” someone said, and next thing I knew Mar was dragging me back outside.

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nowitsdarkfic · 5 years ago

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chapter twenty-eight (the streets of bostonia)

“It could've been, should've been worse than you would ever know. Well, the windshield was broken, but I love the fresh air ya know.” -”Dashboard”, Modest Mouse (forever another fave of mine)

December 31, 1988. Oswego, New York.

Lars has been staying with me and sleeping on my couch for the past three days, and every day he vowed to me to take me over to Music America in order to help me out with the record I want to make, but so far nothing has come from it. At one point, I told him it was supposed to snow the night before New Year's and I wanted us to skedaddle to Rochester before it got bad, and sure enough, it did right as we were getting dressed to leave. That was also the same afternoon Billy came over to check on us and joked about how we're the odd couple of Oswego, even though Lars is just here because he's got nowhere to go at the moment. Apparently his wife owns the house in Portland, he doesn't have the keys to his house in San Francisco, and there's a pretty nasty rainstorm down in New Orleans right now.

We are kind of like the odd couple now that I think about it. I'm the bronze skinned bachelor with the small pad and a lot in between the toned legs and I admit it: I'm a total slob. Lars is the white skinned once married man with three houses and is resident mad genius. I can only imagine what it must be like with James or Kirk for that matter.

I don't know if it's cabin fever talking, but when I woke up this morning, I felt like kicking ass to usher in the new year.

I sat on the edge of my bed and raised my arms over my head to stretch.

Now I'm striding into the living room in nothing more than my pajama bottoms to find Lars laying on the couch wrapped up in the blanket I lent him and staring up at the ceiling. It's at the point in which now he's growing a full Christmas sweater beard.

I loom before the arm of the couch and the soles of his feet with my hands on my hips.

“Superman?” he asks me.

“Come on, get dressed. We're going to Boston.”

“Why Boston?”

“Because that's where the Morlentes live. If you and I can't get our asses over to a studio like what you promised and teased for the past three days, we need to get over to Boston and do some snooping.”

He sighs an exasperated sigh.

“I don't feel like it, though.”

“Come on, man.” I drop my hands down by my sides. “Surely, we've got to uncover all the diversions and find the truth about Maya at some point. We've got all the clues with us—we've just gotta put it all together like the puzzle it is.”

“I admire your motivation, Joey, but I just can't bring myself to it at the moment. I can't muster the same passion I had for finding—for finding her—” He closes his eyes and shuffles his head against the pillow. He opens his eyes again and lifts his head to look at me. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of me.

“God, what a body.”

“Don't—Don't—” I wince at that and raise a hand to my face.

“No, I mean it. I envy you, Joey. Slim, so very attractive, living by yourself, and not getting all tangled up in the opposite sex.”

He fetches up another sigh and then he shakes his head.

“I've got nothing to lose,” he mutters under his breath.

“Your band?” I recall for him.

“I got fired.”

“F—what?!” I'm stunned by that.

“Yeah.” He sits upright as I gape at him and the exhausted look on his face.

“W-When?!” I can hardly speak.

“Last year. Right after we got home from the Puppets tour. James, Kirk, and Cliff had been planning on it for months in advance. Scott knew about it. Did he tell you?”

“No!”

“Yeah, well—” He sighs again. “I got fired. Unceremoniously, much like how you were.”

I shake my head at that. It's like I got punched in the stomach just now.

“That should explain why I've had nothing but time,” he continues. “Nothing but time to watch my marriage crumble and uncover the one true catalyst.”

“But the place down in New Orleans, though—”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes once again.

“That was something my dad co-signed me onto. I sold my place in San Francisco and used the money there to buy that little place. That's why it's in such a dilapidated building because rent down there is cheap. I knew my marriage was going to end and I would be kicked out of Portland, so I decided on a back up plan in the Big Easy, the place that's easy to find things. I didn't want to tell Marcia and Sonia about it because they love me, they don't want me to leave the Northwest. I am going to have to break it to them at some point, though.”

I put my hand on my hip and run my other hand through my black curls.

“God—I just—why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“I was going to. In Black Orchid. The day you and I crossed paths there. Remember when I told you I couldn't tell you why I was there? That was why. I couldn't talk about it yet because it was hard for me to stomach it at the time. So it took me a couple of more months and finding the truth about Maya and my marriage to come to terms with it. All that crying the other day really helped me, too.”

He leans forward over the blanket: I can see he had crossed his legs underneath there.

“Let me tell you, Joey—you think you know someone, and then you hear their eulogy. You just heard the eulogy of Lars Ulrich.”

“So you have nothing to lose now,” I conclude, fetching up a sigh myself.

“Correct a mundo. And what better timing, it being New Year's Eve and so soon after my birthday on top of that. I can begin the last year of the decade on a clean page.”

“Okay, well—let me put a shirt on and we'll take the arrowhead over to Boston.”

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

We arrive in that same neighborhood, the same one I visited with Angeline back on Matt's birthday, although I think we're in a different place from the house because I don't recognize any of these dark stone buildings with their arches and brass chimneys and gutters. The smooth cold cobblestones underneath our feet are still glistening with ice from the melting of snow. Given it's broad daylight, I told Lars to put on something over his eyes to protect from the glare.

We're both in our heavy dark coats, our boots, and our scarves: I have on my mirrored sunglasses and he has on these little round ones with black and white speckled frames Barney had lent him. A couple of airline pilots, the both of us. He wrinkles his nose as he takes a glimpse around the block.

“What smells like potatoes?” he wonders aloud.

“That's what I told Angeline when we first came here last month. Like this whole entire neighborhood smells of potatoes. Now—follow me. At least, I think this is the right way.” I lead him down the sidewalk, which is peppered with dents and cracks, over to the corner; in front of us is a bakery with a darkened front window before a big display of all manner of baked goods. Neither of us have eaten yet. I hope we can make this quick here because I'll be starving soon enough. To the left of us stands a leather shop and a bank. To the right of us is a haberdasher and a tailor. All the buildings are made of three kinds of brick, all of it clean and nicely scrubbed from all the steam power here. Over our heads, the sky is pure white with the steam itself from the factories. I catch the bright glimmer of a drone off in the distance.

I see you, bastard. I don't trust you.

“Which way do we go?” he wonders aloud.

“God, I don't know—this way?”

We cross the cobblestones towards the bakery and the sight of all those baked goods out front. I feel my stomach churning at the sight of it. No, not yet, Joey.

We stride along the sidewalk past another bank and some little boutiques. The potato smell gives way to the sweet smell of molasses. There's a grinding of gears and a gushing sound right in front of us. Lars huddles closer to me.

“I don't like this,” he admits to me.

“It's alright—we'll find our way through here.”

At least I hope we do.

The sidewalk curves around a brick wall. Looming off in the distance through the white glare is a white sign with a brick red triangle right in the middle. We're heading right into a roundabout. Lucky for us, we're on foot. But still. Right after that roundabout is another roundabout. And another. And another with a big black round clock much like the one in Grand Central, with a pearly white face and thick black hands.

“What is this, some kind of gag?” Lars and I say at the same time as we reach the sixth roundabout and the sign is still big and looming in our view. We stop and take a glimpse at one another, and then we burst out laughing.

“The fact you and I thought of that at the same time!” I declare to him.

“I know, right?”

We keep laughing and then I catch a whiff of potatoes again to our right. I gesture down the sidewalk and we head on along another brick wall, a lower one this time and one that's holding back some kind of junkyard. At one point, I take a peek over the wall to find a myriad of those air conditioners Matt had told me about before. Amongst all of those are scraps of old metal, springs, screws, and all manner of things that the cybernetics coming our way are about to render obsolete. They're about to render us all obsolete. All of it.

Wait, why am I thinking like this?

I take a glimpse upward to find a drone lingering over our heads. That smooth metallic body shining so bright in the glare made by the morning sun.

Without a sound.

“You think that thing might drop a nuke on us?” Lars quips, out of breath from all the walking we've done. And I know he's looking at the drone, too.

“God, I hope not.”

“If it does—Joey—I hope it's a dud.”

“Well, if it's a dud, what would we do with something like that?”

“I don't know!”

“What do you mean, you don't know?”

“I really don't know! I'm not a nuclear scientist!”

“Shit—let's just cross the street. I mean, we can't keep walking the streets of Bostonia with it being this risky after all.”

“Hope there's no trucks with radioactive waste headed our way…”

“Or radioactive molasses for that matter! That's even worse!”

The soles of our boots clomp over the cobblestones to the other sidewalk. We round another corner and the fear of getting vaporized subsides. I turn my head to find the drone floating in the opposite direction.

I shake my head and take off my sunglasses for a second to rub my eyes.

“Wow, nice place,” Lars remarks. I keep my eyes shut as I put my shades back on. I lift my head to see the house, the house of Morlente.

“This is it,” I declare, holding my arms out as if beholding a masterpiece.

“This is it?”

“The house that Maya led Angeline and me back to.”

I guide him to the front of the yard. Since neither of us are a reporter from the New York Times, I gesture for Lars to duck down with me. Since it's breakfast time, I'm sure Mike and Maya are awake at the moment. Heaven help us if either of them look out either of those front windows at us. I lead him to the same side of the house I was that one night, except instead of ducking around the corner, we're down beneath the window.

“Okay, so what happened here when you and Angeline were here?” he starts in a hushed whisper.

“Maya let us inside and Michael gave us dinner. I went in around back and that's where he caught me but he was cordial, though. Which—I still find really weird.”

“Huh.” From behind his shades, I see him raise an eyebrow. “Okay, so what do we do?”

“I say we take a peek. Let's see how this household really is. If Maya really did lie to us that bad and that much, surely she must be lying about her home life, especially after what happened to Candace.”

Since we did a lot of walking, my heart is pounding inside of my chest. I let out a low whistle to calm it down.

And then I lift my head to the window sill for a peek inside.

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theworstbob · 8 years ago

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yellin’ at songs: 5.5.2007 & 5.6.2017

the songs that debuted on the billboard chart this week and this week ten years ago

5.5.2007

41) "Big Girls Don't Cry," Fergie

This is the second Fergie song I actually enjoyed once I was able to separate it from the whole thing that Fergie was, which means we're one away from this being a trend and the funding of a Song-From-Artist Extraction Chamber becoming necessary. If this song had been given to Pink, it might be a classic. If it had been given to noted YAS hero Jordan Pruitt, I could say it was a buried treasure, but because we gave it to Fergie, I have to defend the fact I sort of dug this song. I don't use the term "guilty pleasure" because why on earth should I feel guilty for finding pleasure, but it IS weird to sit here on a Sunday morning and enjoy a Fergie song and have to formulate a defense for it. I dunno, "I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket" is a kind of touching lyric. If we'd given it to someone who could actually say words (all these years I thought she was saying "a child miss a step blanket"), we'd be more fond of it.

63) "A Different World," Bucky Covnington

THINGS THAT ARE GOOD, AS TOLD BY BUCKY COVINGTON'S 2007 SMASH HIT "A DIFFERENT WORLD:" ~Expecting mothers smoking and drinking ~Babies sleeping in cribs painted with lead-based paint ~Child abuse ~Being an adult person named Bucky ~Kids not making the football team, their carefree days ending at the realization that life is a long parade of disappointments (a parade which includes parades) ~Drinking from garden hoses, and I agree that it would be nice if clean water were readily available, but this seems less like something that millennials made happen with video games and more a problem with various local governments? Specifically Flint’s? Flint still doesn’t have clean water, and I understand there’s no way this ten-year-old song could possibly know this, but this line is making me angry today! ~Schools being closed on Sunday (which... they... still... are?) Bucky Covington sings this song about how "we," which I would imagine includes Bucky Covington, grew up without video games. Bucky Covington was born in 1977. Pong dropped in 1972. This entire song is garbage. Speaking of garbage: you remember when we didn’t have to sort recyclables from the trash? It was a simpler time. A BETTER time, daresay. We didn't die, so, it wasn't bad.

80) "Party Like a Rockstar," Shop Boyz

This song is the real America. Big, dumb, loud, and proud of all its excess. One example cited of partying like a rock star is golfing with Ozzy Osbourne and his family. This is the only recorded instance of anyone thinking golf was a party.

88) "Lucky Man," Montgomery Gentry

/looks at this country dude song /looks at the country dude song two songs ago /looks at the five country dude songs still to come /looks at "Lucky Man," the j-pop song by arashi The Arashi boys are back in town! Sho once again stakes his claim as 2007's greatest living MC, and the funky track imbues the song with a boundless energy only the Arashi boys bring to the table! Another A+! Have they ever done wrong?

90) "When You're Gone," Avril Lavigne

My favorite part of this song was the 15 seconds of "Freedom," by Beyonce ft./Kendrick Lamar, that played in the Apple ad before the actual song started. This is a song that's bad no matter who you give it to. It's just schlock, and then they went ahead and made everything so... Extra? This song is extra. Avril is belting the absolute best that she can and goodness she is trying her heart out, yet she's still somehow drowned out by the strings. There is nothing subtle about this song. I don't know what the notes process is like for records, but someone in the studio should've given this song a note that said "calm the hell down."

93) "Don't Make Me," Blake Shelton

Blake Shelton has been a country music institution for something like 15 years, he's probably its most visible artist in the mainstream world, and I cannot for the life of me tell you what the most iconic Blake Shelton song is. He has 23 #1 country hits. Is there any one you can point to and say, "That is the best Blake Shelton song?" Is the best Blake Shelton song something country music fans argue like we might over Mariah Carey's catalogue? Is it even worth arguing? I dunno. Blake Shelton is sort of the Drake of country music. He just does the same shit over and over again, but people really dig the same thing over and over again, so they keep listening, but there's no one moment we can point to and say, "Only Blake Shelton could have made that happen." I don't feel like it's expecting too much to expect iconic pop artists to make iconic songs. "Some Beach" kinda goes, I guess. That's not enough! Fuck's sake, even Luke Bryan has "All My Friends Say."

94) "A Feelin' Like That," Gary Allan

This dude says his girlfriend's more beautiful than the Great Barrier Reef, and I am so thrilled that there is something in one of these country dude songs I could enjoy. That's how it's DONE, man. Hyperbole is your friend when you're making a song about some non-specific feeling a woman gives you. Is this the song Flight of the Conchords is parodying when they sing "If You're Into It?" Absolutely, but goddamnit, if someone told me I gave them a more intense emotional rush than one of the great natural wonders of this earth, I'd fuck 'em.

95) "Wrapped," George Strait

yeah i guess i liked this. you give me the lyrics to this song and four other country songs with the word "wrapped" in it, i'm not sure i could pick it out, but, y'know, it killed a few minutes in a manner that wasn't unpleasant. i wouldn't say "yecch" if someone performed this at a karaoke. i might say "interesting choice," i might not believe this is the song their heart has felt the most, but i wouldn't say no.

97) "Johnny Cash," Jason Aldean

The thing about this song is the same thing I had with that "Marvin Gaye" trash from a couple years back: if you're going to name your song after an iconic artist, you have to give me reason to believe that there is more value to be gained from your tribute than there is from just listening to one of that artist's songs. In a sense, the song you offer me with that title has to be on par with the best entries in their catalogue. I don't know why I would listen to a song about a young couple listening to Johnny Cash when there are hundreds of actual Johnny Cash recordings out there that all punch this song in its stupid face. I don't think this is an unreasonable expectation. If you're naming your song after a legend, your song should be legendary. This is the fifth-best country dude song I've heard in the last hour, and all told, it's probably gonna end up #6. That makes it bullshit.

98) "Me and God," Josh Turner

I'm not really qualified to address Christian music. It's easy to call out when something is pandering, like that Florida Georgia Line mess 2017 dredged up a few weeks back, but a song like this, where a young man is earnestly singing about his relationship with God, that's so far away from my alley, I'm not 100% sure we're even in the same tri-county area. I recognize that this song isn't made for people like me, and it'd be unfair to make fun because it's, y'know, not trying to sell itself to me, it's just trying to say, "God's my buddy!" Do you. Doesn't sound like you're using it to hurt anyone, so do you, Josh.

99) "Dig," Incubus

Given how horribly Papa Roach's whole thing has aged compared to Incubus' whole thing -- i THINK we all still like "Drive," and "Anna Molly" goes hard as hell -- I really wish I liked that one Papa Roach song less than this Incubus song, but man, this Incubus song and I never really met. ...Yeah, you’re right, you didn’t come here to read me seriously contemplating my buttrock feelings, I’ll stop there. Video’s cool. I like the heart-lip girl digging the dude out of his head, that was dope. You sure you don’t wanna read my buttrock power rankings? You sure you don’t wanna take inventory of my buttrock feelings? I have a lot of opinions on this genre! I think you’re really missin’ out! Ah, we’ll catch up on ‘em later, lotta 2007 still to come, I’ll hit you up with that buttrock good-good when it’s time to talk about Finger Eleven.

Well. 2007 Top 20. It’s the same as last week’s. 20) "Que Hiciste," by Jennifer Lopez (4.28.2007) 19) "When I See U," by Fantasia (4.21.2007) 18) "Movin' On," by Elliott Yamin (3.17.2007) 17) "U + Ur Hand," by P!nk (1.13.2007) 16) "Doe Boy Fresh," by Three 6 Mafia ft./Chamillionaire (1.20.2007) 15) "Breath," by Breaking Benjamin (4.14.2007) 14) "Stolen," by Dashboard Confessional (4.21.2007) 13) "Beautiful Liar," by Beyonce & Shakira (3.31.2007) 12) "Cupid's Chokehold," by Gym Class Heroes ft./Patrick Stump (1.13.2007) 11) "The River," by Good Charlotte ft./M. Shadows & Synyster Gates (2.10.2007) 10) "Say OK," by Vanessa Hudgens (2.17.2007) 9) "Alyssa Lies," by Jason Michael Carroll (1.13.2007) 8) "Get Buck," by Young Buck (4.14.2007) 7) "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going," by Jennifer Hudson (1.13.2007) 6) "Thnks fr th Mmrs," by Fall Out Boy (4.28.2007) 5) "Candyman," by Christina Aguilera (1.13.2007) 4) "Because of You," by Ne-Yo (3.17.2007) 3) "Umbrella," by Rihanna ft./Jay-Z (4.28.2007) 2) "Dashboard," by Modest Mouse (2.17.2007) 1) "The Story," by Brandi Carlile (4.28.2007) Alright, 2017. 2007 gave me seven country dude songs, and you will have at least one cut off DAMN. If anyone can fuck this up, it’s you. I’m excited.

5.6.2017

4) "DNA." by Kendrick Lamar 14) "LOYALTY." by Kendrick Lamar ft./Rihanna 16) "ELEMENT." by Kendrick Lamar 18) "LOVE." by Kendrick Lamar ft./Zacari 32) "YAH." by Kendrick Lamar 33) "XXX." by Kendrick Lamar ft./U2 35) "FEEL." by Kendrick Lamar 37) "PRIDE." by Kendrick Lamar 42) "LUST." by Kendrick Lamar 50) "FEAR." by Kendrick Lamar 54) "BLOOD." by Kendrick Lamar 58) "GOD." by Kendrick Lamar 63) "DUCKWORTH." by Kendrick Lamar

DAMN. is a classic record that has grown on me in the week and a half I have spent with it, which is amazing given that my relatively lukewarm first impression was that it was a classic, and I have no qualms with any of these songs making the list. I do have some reservations about songs that are never going to make it to radio (whatever that means in 2017) making my personal Top 20, but at the same time, I can say I've only liked three songs in the field more than I liked "ELEMENT." Even "HUMBLE." has grown on me, now that I've heard it in the context of the album (and that beat, I mean hell). These are all Very Good Songs and like I'm not gonna put all of them in the Top 20? but hmm I wonder which I like more, every song off DAMN. or any Lady Antebellum song. Tough choice.

39) "The Cure," by Lady Gaga

I pretty much dig this song for what it is, a nice kinda-EDM-y kinda-'80s-y synth jam, but I'm disappointed that this sounds like A Good Song and not A Gaga Song. It's fine! I accept this, it's a treat and I enjoyed all three minutes, but if I had first heard this song being covered on The Voice or something, there's no way in hell I would've pegged this as a Gaga song. Like, this is the safest song I've ever heard bearing her name. It's a nice song, though. Aside from the complaints just registered, I will register no complaints.

76) "Good Life," by G-Eazy & Kehlani

"I bought the crib and it's in escrow now." Is this like an elaborate I'm Still Here satire/prank of the concept of a white rapper? He talked about closing escrow on a home. Who the fuck. This song is what happens when Drake and Rihanna cancel and you have to grab two people off the street to impersonate them and hope they're good enough mimics that no one can tell the difference.

78) "Peek a Boo," by Lil Yachty ft./Migos

YOU KNOW HOW YOU MAKE THIS SONG INSTANTLY A THOUSAND FUCKING TIMES BETTER WITHOUT LOSING ANYTHING? "Give her the shocker like Pikachu." YOU WERE SO FUCKING CLOSE. "Give her the shocker like Pikachu." LIKE THREE DRAFTS AWAY IF YOU GAVE THIS SONG FIVE MINUTES TO BREATHE BEFORE SCHLEPPIN' IT TO THE BOOTH, YOU COULD HAVE HAD "GIVE HER THE SHOCKER LIKE PIKACHU." I think this song is fine? I dunno, I like the noise Yachty is making behind this song, it's a quality noise. Not bad! Not, y'know, good, and it's actually a failure when you realize how close it was to being amazing GIVE HER THE SHOCKER LIKE PIKACHU. YOU RHYME PEEKABOO WITH PIKACHU AT THE END OF THE SONG. WE WERE SO CLOSE TO ACHIEVING THE PERFECT SONG. Y'all fucked up. I can't believe you kids failed me like this!, but other than the fact it’s a profound disappointment it’s a’ight.

87) "Black Spiderman," by Logic ft./Damian Lemar Hudson

OK. OK, I think, after two songs, I understand what Logic is: he's the most accessible rapper for someone who just listened to Hamilton for the first time and wants to start checking out real hip-hop. Because if you go straight from Hamilton to Danny Brown, man, you're gonna get the bends, y'all ain't ready for "Ain't It Funny" at all, that is a rough 180 to try to navigate, you gotta hit this dude up first. It's a positive song with little to no misogynistic language, but still hard enough that it might put off some people who were initially into the nice man who did raps about the $10 man. If you can listen to this and still want to go deeper, then you listen to Chance, then Tribe or The Roots, and then you're ready for Kendrick. It's rap for people who don't listen to rap, is what I'm trying to say. It's its own fun little thing, but this song is what it sounds like when your biggest worry in life is about a dog you saw on the internet which was in a stressful situation. Hope the dog can make it! It looks so worried, poor puppers!

93) "Broken Halos," by Chris Stapleton

It's country Kendrick! And it's country "HUMBLE." in that I'm not immediately sure how much I dig it, but I know I dig it way more than I dug all the shit I had to listen to Sunday morning for this stupid post. Chris Stapleton got big making traditional country music, and I think it might be because he got big doing this that now this feels like paint-by-numbers Stapleton. Sad gravel man growling over an acoustic guitar some lazy religious metaphor, I dunno, it kicks most other country songs' ass, but I would honestly argue "Craving You" is a riskier move than this song. I think I might revisit this and Gaga's songs in a few weeks and realize I liked them way more than I initially did and I was just being a Tuesday evening grumplord for no reason, but this is the opinion of record, is that this song is just standard-issue Chris Stapleton but Chris Stapleton being a thing whcih comes standard-issue is more good than bad.

99) "The Night We Met," by Lord Huron

It's the last song of the week, and it's a haunting indie song from the Netflix teen mystery drama. Looks like I'm clockin' out early, boys and girls! Sorry! Ain't got nothin' for ya here! This song's pretty dope! GOODBYEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The Top 20, where we dumped “The Heart Part 4″ a little bit because I felt it was appropriate: 20) "The Cure," by Lady Gaga (5.6) 19) "Guys My Age," by Hey Violet (2.11) 18) "Heatstroke," by Calvin Harris ft./Young Thug, Pharrell Williams & Ariana Grande (4.22) 17) "Yeah Boy," Kelsea Ballerini (3.4) 16) "You Look Good," by Lady Antebellum (4.22) 15) "The Heart Part 4," by Kendrick Lamar (4.15) 14) "Selfish," by Future ft./Rihanna (3.18) 13) "Slide," by Calvin Harris ft./Frank Ocean & Migos (3.18) 12) "Now & Later," by Sage the Gemini (2.25) 11) "DNA." by Kendrick Lamar (5.6) 10) "It Ain't Me," by Kygo x Selena Gomez (3.4) 9) "Craving You," by Thomas Rhett ft./Maren Morris (4.22) 8) "That's What I Like," by Bruno Mars (3.4) 7) "Chanel," by Frank Ocean ft./A$AP Rocky (4.1) 6) "Run Up," by Major Lazer ft./PARTYNEXTDOOR & Nicki Minaj (2.18) 5) "Green Light," by Lorde (3.18) 4) "ELEMENT." by Kendrick Lamar (5.6) 3) "Despacito," by Luis Fonsi ft./Daddy Yankee (2.4) 2) "Issues," by Julia Michaels (2.11) 1) "iSpy," by KYLE ft./Lil Yachty (1.14) Hey, “Despacito” made the top ten in Kendrick week! That’s an insane accomplishment! I see it carries an “+ Justin Bieber” credit, now! There is no reconsideration of “Despacito” forthcoming. I choose to only acknowledge “Despacito” in its original form.

Who won?

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm a kendrick album or a bunch of dudes in cowboy hats. 2017, y’all brought a gun to a knife fight. where the hell was this last week. 2007: 3 2017: 3 So next week, we get new Paramore (probably) stacked up against Josh Groban with a children’s choir. I’m liking 2017′s odds at a repeat. Come on, friend! 2007′s taking a few weeks off, it looks like, NOW’S YOUR CHANCE!

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