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snowdice · 4 years

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Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 18]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.” See edited chapters below. Chapters 3-8 and what I have of Chapter 9 are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

I have homework due tomorrow, so let’s go.

Arc I: Finding Cinderella

Chapter 4

Janus was frozen in surprise for a few long moments after Pat disappeared. Which had been, admittedly, his mistake, because, while their window had technically been until 11:17pm and it was only 11:10, the loud crack that whatever Pat had been using for time travel made, garnered the attention of someone else.

“Uh oh,” Remus said, likely hearing footsteps. “Hide.”

That snapped Janus into action, but instead of hiding immediately like a sensible human being, he chose to go for the only link to the man who’d just stolen time travel tech and waltzed away, the mask.

Which was why he ended up getting arrested.

Remy tsked the moment they were all alone in the police car having come to ‘transfer Lee to another facility.’ Remus was already waiting in the front seat, and flashed Janus a smug smile. If Janus wasn’t still handcuffed, he’d slap him.

“Well,” Remy said. “At least you didn’t shoot anybody like I asked. I was joking by the way. I didn’t really want to pick you up from a 1920s police station period.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Mmm, nah, ‘cause Remus managed to not get arrested this time, so you defiantly screwed something up.”

“Oh, he defiantly wanted to screw something all right,” Remus said joyfully.

“Remus,” Janus hissed.

“What?” he asked. “I’m not the horny one for once. Well, no, that’s a lie, but it didn’t affect the job this time.”

Janus groaned and leaned his head back against the seat.

Remy pulled into a seemingly random garage around 20 minutes later. “Alright,” he said. “Here we are.” He got out of the car and then helped Janus out before uncuffing him. “Here’s your ‘watch,’” Remy handed him the timepiece that had been confiscated when he’d been arrested.

Janus put it on and activated it. “Shit,” he said.

“What?” Remus asked.

“An appointment with cultural outreach has already been downloaded to my calendar for once we get out of decon.”

“Oof. Going to baby jail,” Remy laughed. Remus was cackling.

“This,” Janus said, “was not a cultural faux pas. I did nothing that indicated that I was not from this time. I am not some rookie.”

“Don’t forget cell phones don’t exist in the 1920s,” Remus sang.

“The real question is whether or not my foot exists in your…” Remus disappeared before he could finish, a smirk on his face. Janus growled. “By Remy,” he gritted out. He selected the decontamination chamber from his queue, ignoring the appointment that came after it for now.

He knew exactly where Remus would be standing when he landed, which was why he stepped forward on reentry to ram into him.

He yelped in surprise. “Sorry,” Janus said pleasantly. “I must have also forgotten landing procedures.

Remus laughed good naturally. “Aw, come on Jay,” he said, bumping Janus back, albeit much gentler than Janus had been. “It’s not a big deal. You just go talk with some crusty old college professor who is far too interested in spoons and then everything’s fine.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he growled. “They’re treating me like I’m an idiot who accidently invented disco in the 1920s when I was conned by some free agent time traveler.”

“‘Conned,’ Remus said. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

“I know where and when you live Remus,” Janus said.

Remus gave him a dopey smile as the decontamination cycle finished and the door unlocked. Janus’s wrist buzzed telling him that the coordinates to the cultural outreach office were now unlocked. Instead of pulling them up, Janus walked to the door.

“Um,” Remus said, following him. “Aren’t you supposed to be going to your appointment?” Janus just kept walking towards their office. “Uh… Jan?”

“It’s absolutely ridiculous that I have to go to cultural outreach,” Janus said. “In fact, no one can make me. If they want me to go have a discussion about the definition of ‘bushwa,’ they’re going to have to have me dragged there.”

“Mmm, I feel like The Boss won’t be too happy about that, and I have a feeling she’d be 100% down to dragging you there herself.”

“Well, then, let her,” Janus said, stalking through the door to his office. “I’m not going to…”

“Ah, Agent Picani,” the woman standing next to his desk, clearly waiting for him, said when he came through the door. “Dr. Picani was informed that there were complications with your last mission and wishes to have a conversation with you and asks that you meet him in his office at the AMO.”

“Oh, um,” Janus said, stumbling a bit before plastering on a regretful half smile. “Unfortunately, I actually have an appointment right now at Cultural Outreach. It’s mandatory and very important, and I have to go now. So, I’ll have to take a raincheck on that.”

“But-” she started, frowning.

“Remus, work on the report!” Janus said quickly as he waved his hand to bring up his timepiece display and jammed his finger at the glowing appointment card in his queue. A few moments later, Janus was at Cultural Outreach.

Cultural Outreach was not part of the TPI, though it often worked very closely with them. It was a collaboration between the government and multiple universities to help government workers, politicians, and other citizens understand and bridge cultural gaps. It had existed before time travel was invented but had expanded to also teach people who needed to time travel how to behave in unfamiliar times and cultures.

After it had to be expanded to provide for the TPI, it had been moved to Silver Mountains University. The building had once just been a museum, but it had been thoroughly renovated and there had been add-ons for office space and some classrooms. It was still a museum, however, its purpose had expanded greatly and there were many areas that were off limits to the general public.

One of these areas was the fourth floor, where Janus’s timepiece had dumped him. This was the floor that was almost exclusively for TPI agents and staff of Cultural Outreach who worked with them.

He immediately turned away from the reception area, hoping that he could escape and go sit on the university’s quad or something of the like for the next hour or so in hopes the woman his brother sent to fetch him would give up and go back to the AMO. Yet, the receptionist apparently saw him.

“Janus Picani?” he asked.

Janus grimaced and turned back towards him. “Yes,” he said.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “You’re 5 minutes late for your appointment and seem disoriented.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Is your timepiece malfunctioning?”

“No.”

“Uh… okay. Well, if you sign in here, I can take you to your appointment.”

“…Fine.”

He begrudgingly stepped forward and touched the screen he’d gestured to sign with his fingerprint, and then let the man lead him down the hall.

The door they stopped at was propped open slightly, but he still paused and knocked. “Professor Eran? Your 2:30 is here.”

Janus had just a moment upon hearing the name to think that maybe there was actually some sort of intelligent design of the universe and whatever being of ultimate power had crafted it was a dick.

The door opened and Virgil Eran’s eyes immediately narrowed on him. “Janus.”

“Virgil.”

“I see you’re still late for everything.”

“I see you’re still a bastard.”

Janus saw the receptionist slowly back away in the direction they’d come.

“Why don’t you come in?” Virgil said faux pleasantly.

Janus did, because he really didn’t have much of a choice at this point unless he wanted to jump out of a window… or push someone out of a window.

Virgil turned back into his office and took a seat behind his desk. Janus unhappily followed him in and sat across from him.

He took his time pulling up whatever the TPI sent him and reading it over. “So, I see you failed your recovery mission and were arrested in 1923.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Janus said. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Virgil gave him that same suspicious look he used to give Janus whenever Janus claimed to have not eaten his hot pockets out of the freezer in the middle of the night. He’d only been lying 80% of the time. Virgil had a tendency to forget what he’d eaten in a half-conscious state at 3 o’clock in the morning.

“I shouldn’t,” Janus snapped defensively. “Nothing went wrong with anyone from the time period. An illegal time traveler screwed up the mission details.”

“Well, it is still protocol to make sure nothing slipped when agents go off script. You weren’t prepared to be in a jail cell, and it is possible that you screwed something up.”

“I didn’t screw anything up,” Janus growled.

“Alright,” Virgil said pulling up a document on his desk. “The mission started on July 27th, 1923 at 9:58pm, correct?”

“Oh, god, we’re not really going to fill out a time sheet. I don’t have time for that today.”

“It is protocol and best that the information is documented when it is still fresh in your mind. Besides, your schedule has been cleared for the rest of the workday.” The bastard was enjoying this. He knew how much Janus hated this stuff.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Janus said, “it was the damned illicit time traveler.”

“And I will be the judge of that,” Virgil said. Janus should have just bit the bullet and had coffee with his brother. “If you truly did nothing wrong, your supervisor will see that when I send this to her.”

Yet, despite the fact that Virgil clearly relished in his suffering, he was charitable enough to do most of the actual filling out of the forms. He’d read out the questions and write down what Janus said instead of making him do it himself. Janus really only had to do a quick quality check and sign it at the end.

He still was an asshole about the details, but really he’d been like that about stupid thing like the settings for the dish washer and how the pantry was organized during their college days before they’d had their falling out, so Janus wasn’t particularly surprised. When they were finally done, Virgil sent it off to get filed by the TPI.

Then, they were left staring at each other with nothing between them but almost a decade of radio silence and a whole lot of awkwardness.

“I should go,” Janus finally said, standing up.

Virgil tilted his head slightly to the side and gave him a half smile. “Don’t lock the door behind you,” he said. “Not that I’d expect you too.”

Janus took it for the clear attempt at a joke it was intended to be and puffed out a breath of amusement with a head shake. “No risk of that,” he said. Then, he turned and walked out of the office.

Chapter 5

Janus stepped back into the reception area and booted up his time piece. Instinct said to go back to the office despite the fact that it was late enough that most people had gone home, but he hesitated. Surely Emile had given up by now, but considering he’d sent someone to ambush him in his office, Janus wasn’t sure if he should trust that. He could just go home, but he already knew his mind was racing too much to sleep tonight so he’d probably just end up staring at the lake for the next 6 hours. So, he decided on the only other legitimate option he had. He pulled up Remus’s home coordinates and selected.

The home that Remus had chosen (after his long line of rejected requests) managed to somehow make no and absolute sense simultaneously to anyone who knew him. It was a small farm in the United States just west of the Mississippi in 1842 in what would be ratified as the state of Iowa in a few years. When asked why he would choose that time and place, Remus always responded with “I thought it was funny,” whatever that meant.

Unlike most time agents who simply used the identities assigned to them by the AMO as a cover, Remus actually lived his part time.

Janus was… fairly certain he was cheating a bit to get everything done, but he maintained his small farm all on his own, growing most of his own food. The neighbors he had lived very far away, but he still spoke with them far more than Janus did his own.

Janus appeared inside the small home, his eyes already shut. “Are you hear and dressed?” Janus called. Something bumped lightly into his legs.

“I’m in the kitchen!”

Janus peaked his eyes open and squatted to pet the cat at his feet. “That doesn’t answer my question!” he called back to Remus.

“It’s a surprise!” Remus said.

“Remus.” Diesel Fuel the cat flopped to her side on the ground as Janus continued to pet her ears. He heard Remus’s footsteps, and saw cloth covering his legs, so risked looking up. He was currently not only dressed, but wearing an apron that Janus was fairly sure was not time appropriate judging by the fabric and cat pawprint design. He had a bit of flour on his hands, and it may have been a bit too white for the time and place, but Janus couldn’t be completely sure.

“What’re you doing here?” Remus asked.

“My day has been an endless series of frustrations,” Janus said. “So, I have come to see the only tolerable being in the history of the universe.”

Remus snorted. “Since I know that isn’t me, I’ll assume you’re talking about the cat.”

“I still don’t understand why you tolerate this creature,” Janus addressed Diesel Fuel. She blinked slowly up at him. “To be fair, he was assigned as my partner. I didn’t have much of a choice in it. You could go always run away and become feral in the woods if you’d like.”

“So could you, technically,” Remus pointed out.

“I’m thinking about it after today.”

“Would you like some bread?” Remus asked. “That’s all I’ve been making this afternoon. Some fresh should be coming out of the oven in a few minutes.”

“Do you have anything stronger made out of wheat?”

“Ew, no, but I do have vodka.”

“Vodka works.”

“Want me to mix it with something?”

“No.”

“One of those night then,” Remus said, easily. “Let me finish up the bread, so I don’t burn the kitchen down. You can go get the alcohol from the cellar while you wait if you want, or you can just flop down on the couch.”

He was going to just flop down on the couch.

He did just that as Remus disappeared back into his kitchen. The cat hopped onto his stomach, proceeding to purr loudly and kneed at chest. Janus petted the cat and listened to the noise of Remus moving around in the other room, letting his mind drift. His mind drifted to Virgil for a bit and he steadfastly did not allow it to drift to his brother. Yet, the thing that most was on his mind was the strange man who had flirted and charmed Janus all night before mercilessly screwing him over. ‘Pat’ he’d said his name was, but surely that was not his real name.

Janus sighed and scratched the cat’s ear. “He certainly wasn’t an amateur,” Janus mused to the cat. “With that amount of precision to get in before we did, he must have someone not on the ground feeding him information. Perhaps more than one.” He was part of a group of time traveling thieves perhaps or something worse. “I didn’t get a good look at his face since he was wearing a mask,” Janus said, “but I spent a lot of time with him, and I’m sure Remy swiped the mask from the police since it had been on me when I was arrested. It’s a good lead.”

He continued to pet Diesel Fuel. Eventually, Remus came back in, noticed Janus hadn’t bothered to get the alcohol and went outside to the cellar. “I’m going to find him,” Janus told Diesel Fuel. “I’ll stop whatever it is he’s doing, and I’ll bring him in.” Diesel Fuel mewed her support, and Janus patted her on top of the head.

Remus came back in with the bottle of vodka and handed it to him without a word. He sat down on the couch near Janus’s feet and patted his lap so Diesel Fuel would come over to him and allow Janus to sit up.

The bastard waited until he was approximately 3 shots in (he didn’t have a shot glass and was just taking drinks from the bottle) to ask the questions Janus really didn’t want to answer. “Are you mad at Emile?” Remus asked.

Janus groaned, trying to wash out the bitter taste of shame and grief with the sharp sting of vodka. It didn’t work. “No,” he said to Remus.

“Then why have you been avoiding him?”

“Shit, I’m here because I didn’t want to think about it. Can’t we just not.”

“Don’t want to think about what?

“It’s none of your business, Remus.”

He could feel Remus frowning at him, but Janus stared resolutely ahead. At least, he did until a foot poked his face. He slapped it away, but it did the job of getting Janus to look at Remus.

“It is my business,” Remus said, foot still in the air. “I’m your partner and your friend.”

“If I’m your friend, you’ll drop it.”

“So, you’re not mad at Emile,” Remus continued, contemplatively. “Did you do something to him, then?” Janus bit his lip and looked away. “What?” Remus asked. Janus didn’t respond. “Look, I’m sure he’ll forgive you for whatever it is. He’s a good guy. Just talk to him about it.”

“I can’t,” Janus said.

“Whatever it is, it’s probably been long enough that he forgives you. You literally just have to have a conversation, say you’re sorry, and everything will be A-OK.”

“I can’t,” Janus repeated.

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t know about it.”

Remus paused. “So, as far as he knows, you just cut contact with him all of a sudden for no reason and have been avoiding him ever since?”

Janus looked at his shoes. “Yeah.”

“That…” Remus said, “is not fucking fair Janus.”

“I know.”

“Then why the hell are you doing that to him? He’s like… soft and feeling-y. He’s probably really upset.”

“I know, Remus.”

“Tell him. Whatever it is.”

“I can’t.”

“Look,” Remus said. “You tell him and he either forgives you or he doesn’t. If he does, everything’s fine. If he doesn’t… well, it’s not like it would be any different from you two never being in the same room the last few years. Either way, you can’t just do this to him. He’ll probably forgive you. He’s your brother. Brothers don’t… brothers would forgive each other.”

Janus laughed softly and met Remus’s eyes. “That’s the problem,” he said. “He’d definitely forgive me.” He turned away and opened the vodka bottle again. “Now, if you’ll shut up for a few minutes, I’m going to drink until I black out.”

Chapter 6

“Really, Khalid,” Janus said, storming into his boss’s office. “A yellow?” It had been about a week since the 1920s incident, and his incident report had finally been cleared. Sure, it wasn’t a red or a black and he wasn’t facing any reprimand, but it should have been a green.

She looked up at him, clearly unconcerned. “There was an incident,” she said. “You handled it well, but there was one. Therefore, yellow.”

“It wasn’t a time travel incident! It was a rouge time traveler.”

“Janus, you helped me make these rules,” she said impatiently.

“Which is why I know this is bullshit,” he snapped.

She rolled her eyes. “If it was anyone else, you would agree with me. While you didn’t go against protocol and had no time related incidents, the fact of the matter is, you were still distracted by this ‘rouge time traveler,’ didn’t complete your mission, and were arrested.”

“He was good,” Janus said. “You can’t fault me for that. He also could be dangerous and you’re busy handing out yellows instead of working to track him down.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We are working on tracking him down,” she said. “We have done an analysis on the mask and found fibers dating to the 2010s and some DNA. Though it isn’t exactly a high priority.”

“We have no idea who he is or what he’s planning to do. Why is that not a high priority thing?”

“At the moment?” she asked. “Because we have reports of a time bomb being activated.”

“What?” Janus asked sitting up. “When?”

“New Years Eve going into the year 3,000 in Brazil,” she said. “Which you’d know about if you’d bothered to check your integration port this morning before storming into my office.”

“It’s my mission?” Janus asked.

“The incident investigation is over and your active again despite the dreaded yellow,” she said, clearly making fun of him a bit. “So, yes, and it’s a high priority mission, so I’ll be running it.”

“Who all is going?” he asked.

“Other than the two of us, Remus, Lena, and Fred,” she told him. “We leave in three hours, so, you might want to run off to Rhi before Fred gets to her and ties her up for an hour on details.”

Janus nodded and got to his feet. He turned back at the door. “I still don’t deserve the yellow,” he hissed.

She waved him off. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Picani.”

He ground his teeth a bit about the dismissal of his worries, but his resentment was slightly soothed by the fact that she’d assigned him to go on such a high priority mission and with only senior agents.

He took the advice and grabbed Remus from the office, noting Lena hadn’t been able to wrangle Fred yet as she was still at her desk, and they both headed off to see Rhi.

A few hours later, they were all in decontamination together, decked out in truly god-awful costumes. The turn of the third millennia had been a wild event, and the best way to fit in was to look like you’d grabbed something from every century in recorded human history, dyed it in neon paint, and rolled around in a vat of glitter.

Remus had opted to stick his head in a vat of glow in the dark green paint that costuming had offered them, and it wasn’t even going to be slightly disruptive to their covertness.

In fact, costuming had frowned when Janus had insisted he not get his hair dyed and instead wore a bowler hat. They had required him to have flowers made out of glitter on it.

There were five people waiting for them when they landed 6 hours before the turn of the millennia. Three were touchdown agents, including Remy, and two were on location tech support. Usually it would be overkill to have that many people there just for support even with five agents in the field, but today the TPI needed to be cautious because they were planning on instituting a time lock.

Time bombs were dangerous things that would ripple through time if not contained. Even if it did end up going off (killing everyone in its reach), the time lock would serve to prevent most damage outside of the city and, more importantly, the year it was planted.

Janus had only been in two time locks before, and he was one of the most senior agents in the TPI, outranked only by the founder: Lia Khalid. Time locks were designed to keep all time linear in a certain fixed time and geographical area as well as prevent any time travel in and out. Once it was engaged, all forms of time travel would not work for the duration, bar the pin device. Khalid was already switching out her regular timepiece with the slightly bigger one that was designed to support the time lock.

There was a failsafe back at the TPI that could be engaged in an emergency, which was why tech support was here, but other than that, the only thing that could break the time lock was that timepiece, and it would break the moment the time lock ended.

As soon as it was on Khalid’s wrist, she looked up at them all. “Our information says the time bomb was planted in the costume of one of the ‘Millennium Birds’ who are the organizers of the different events,” she said. Janus had seen a photo of the identical costumes in the mission details. They were all robe like garments with giant fans of feathers coming from the neck that coalesced in a peak a foot above their head to hold a fake bird egg. At least they’d be easy to find. “There are 25 of them throughout the city. We need to find each of them. So, we don’t double count, you’ll need to subtly,” her eyes touched on Remus, “scan each one you find for the bomb and tag them with a tracker if it’s not on them. You can view the already tagged ones, as well as the rest of us on your timepiece even once the time lock is engaged. When you find the bomb, call it in.”

They all nodded, and Khalid looked over at one of the techies. She nodded at her and then the techie flipped a couple of switches. “Three, two, one,” the techie said. There was a slight shift in the air that most people would disregard, but Janus as a seasoned time traveler could feel the change even before his wrist buzzed. He glanced at his timepiece to see it had a big red ‘X’ across its display. He tapped it and was still able to bring up the map of the city with 10 green dots on it all clustered together in their current location.

After that, he tested the scanner on his timepiece that he would use to search for the bomb, just to make sure the time lock hadn’t messed anything up with his equipment. He glanced up to see everyone else was doing the same.

“Keep in contact,” Khalid said before everyone split up. Janus and Remus started by going North while Fredrick and Darlene were to go South. Khalid was a floater who would tag any Birds she saw but was mostly there for backup and orders.

Janus and Remus stepped into the chaos of New Years Eve before the turn of the third millennia. The streets were already swamped with people and it would only be getting worse the later it go.

“Where should we start?” Remus asked.

“Let’s go all the way North to the games area,” Janus said. “We can work our way back here.”

“Okay!” Remus said. “I wonder if they have those fun little genetically modified goldfish as prizes. I’ve always wanted to eat one and see if I end up getting whatever design was on the fish on my body.”

Janus gave him a disgusted look.

“What?! People eat fish all the time!”

Janus shook his head. “We’re not playing the games anyway. We have work to do. Important work.”

“Boo,” Remus replied. Janus chose to ignore him as he spotted one of the Millenia Birds letting people into the gaming area.

They walked over towards the entrance. Janus got in range first and moved to subtly scan the Millenia Bird, Remus doing the same the next moment. After a second, Janus’s timepiece buzzed and lit up red, meaning the bomb was within range. “Well, that was easy,” he said. “It was on the first one we found.”

“Uh…” Remus said. “Jan.” When Janus looked, he was holding up his wrist to show his green lit time piece.

“What?” Janus asked. He quickly moved to rescan the Millenia Bird, and his timepiece came up green as well. Which, meant the bomb was not in range, even though the Millenia Bird had not moved. “But…” He and Remus’s eyes met, and they quickly both started turning in a circle to look at the crowd around him. No one looked like they’d just stolen a time bomb off the Millennial Bird, but then Janus’s eyes caught on a man. He blended in perfectly to his surroundings. He was wearing the disgusting garb of the times, a large light blue piece that bubbled near his hips, and had most of his skin covered in rainbow neon paints. Yet, something about him, the curl of his hair or the way he moved, drew Janus’s eyes to him. He recognized the man immediately even in a completely different dressing style. Yet, what cinched it was the moment Janus’s eyes met his and they seemed to sparkle slightly in the afternoon sun. The next moment, the person Janus knew as Pat, turned to disappear into the crowd.

Chapter 7

“Him,” was the only thing Janus said before taking off after the figure who had just disappeared into the game area.

“What?” Remus’s voice followed after him. “Janus! What?!”

Janus did not pause, just continuing to run after Pat, hopping over two barricades as a shortcut. Janus cursed when he lost sight of the man for just a moment near the prize table filled with colorful goldfish, but he was able to spot him once again walking into one of the tents. Janus blasted into the tent. It was a game where they raced rats, and when Janus entered, Pat was cooing at one of them.

“Who’s a tiny little squishy precious baby?” he was asking one of them, wiggling his pointer finger at it.

“You,” Janus growled stepping up to him.

He turned and tilted his head at Janus with a frown. “Um, me?” he asked, pointing to his chest, all sorts of innocent, but Janus could see a spot of hidden amusement in his eyes.

“Where is it?”

His eyebrows drew together, but it was an act. It was clearly an act! “Where is what?”

“The…” he glanced around them at the people surrounding them. “Thing you just took.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Pat said with a frown.

“Oh, no,” Janus said. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fooling me twice is not an option.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Pat said. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bull. Shit.”

Just then, Remus jogged into the tent. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“It’s him,” Janus said pointing. “He took it. He has it.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Patton said. He looked over to Remus with a confused frown.

Remus looked at Janus. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “It’s him. It has to be him. He’s the mask guy.”

Remus squinted at Pat. “He is?”

“Whoever you think I am, I’m not. I haven’t worn a mask all night. I just did the face paint,” he pointed to his cheeks.

Remus raised his wrist and his timepiece lit up green. He looked at Janus.

“I lost sight of him for five seconds. He must have stashed it somewhere,” Janus said. He turned on Pat. “Where did you put it?”

“…Are you,” Pat asked, his eyes going back and forth between Janus and Remus, “… the police?”

“We are, actually,” Khalid said as she stepped into the tent. Remus must have called her. She inserted herself between Janus and Pat. “Agent Khalid,” she said, offering a hand with a smile. Pat looked at it in surprise and then smiled back hesitantly as he took it. “Apologizes, one of the big game prizes was stolen by someone matching your description. Would you mind coming down to security for questioning? Just to clear it up.”

“Oh,” Patton said, hesitant. Janus expected him to refuse outright, but then he said. “Uh, sure.”

“Thank you very much, Mr…”

“Jonas,” Pat told her earnestly. “Do I need to be handcuffed?”

“No,” Khalid said. Janus frowned at her, but she ignored him. “It’s just a talk for now.” She gestured to the tent entrance. “Come with us.”

He did without argument, and Remus and Janus followed behind the both of them. Khalid did not lead them back to the base, but to a little spot that said “security” near the center of the event. Remy was already there waiting for them at a desk.

“Remy, would you please take Mr. Jonas to go sit down?” she asked.

“Sure, boss,” Remy said, standing up. He led Pat away.

Khalid turned to Janus and Remus once they were out of earshot. “What is going on?”

“It’s the mask man,” Janus said, “the one from 1923, and my scanner said the time bomb was on the Millenia Bird outside the games entrance, but then it was gone the next second, and I saw him, and then he ran away.”

“So, does he have it on him?”

“No. I lost sight of him, and he must have stored it somewhere, but I know he took it.”

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“He’s the man from 1923?” she asked.

“Yes! Remus, that’s him, right? You recognize him.”

“Well,” Remus said thoughtfully. “He was in a mask, and it was dark in the room with the necklace. Other than that, I only really saw his back, and he was wearing pants. Mr. Jonas is wearing a dress, so I can’t really tell if their asses match.”

“Okay, but I was with him for hours. I swear it’s him, and I swear he took it,” Janus just about shouted.

“We’ll question him,” Khalid placated, “and Fred and Lena will keep looking in the meantime.”

“He knows where it is,” Janus insisted. “I swear.”

“Okay,” Khalid said, before leaving to follow where Remy and Pat had gone. She stopped Janus with a hand on his shoulder. “I think Remus and I will do the interrogation.” He opened his mouth to argue. “You know the most about him, so observe from the sidelines and see if he makes any mistakes that indicate you’re right.”

“That’s just to placate me and you know it.”

“Observation’s over there,” she said pointing.

He got a thumbs up from Remus as he walked by, and Janus glared at his back before walking off to the indicated location.

He watched as Remus and Khalid entered the room, and Remy left it. Remy joined him in the observation room after leaving and leaned against the wall.

Pat was sitting at a table and watched Remus and Khalid with that same rubbish placid confusion that he had before. “So,” Khalid said, “Mr. Jonas.”

“You can call me Nick,” Pat interrupted.

“Lia,” Khalid replied. He smiled at her happily. “So, are you enjoying your day?” she asked.

“I am!” he replied. “It’s a big day. You only get to see the turn of a millennia once in your life.”

“Ah, yes,” Khalid said. “Doing anything special for it?”

“Um, not really,” he said. “Other than the party. I’m going to meet up with my roommates after dinner. Kevin doesn’t like this sort of thing, and Joe couldn’t come.”

“Your roommates,” Khalid said, considering him. “Do you live around here?”

“Uh huh,” Pat replied.

“Do you have any ID?”

“I do, want me to get it?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Pat unzipped one of the bubbles on his waist and handed her a chip. “Remus, would you mind going out and getting the ID scanner?” she asked, even though her timepiece would be able to read it.

“Ah, shit,” Remy said. “Props. What do those things even look like?”

As Remy scrambled to find something that would pass for an ID reader so “Nick” didn’t get suspicious of Khalid using her timepiece, Janus watched the two alone in the room like a hawk.

“I see you’re wearing a dress inspired by the 2770s,” Khalid noted, as Remus came to stand next to him.

“Yeah!” Pat replied. “Joe made it for me. He’s really good at fashion design!”

“Can I see?” she asked.

With a happy smile, he reached over the table to let her get a look of the sleeves. Janus saw her subtly scan the fabric, probably to make sure it was from the 2990s and not actually from the 2770s. Considering she didn’t mention it, Janus assumed it checked out.

Remy came back with some sort of device then and handed it to Remus who saluted and wandered back into the interrogation room. Khalid pretended to scan the ID in her hand. She handed it back to him without comment. “So, you said you live with your roommates: Joe and Kevin?” she asked.

“Yep!” he replied. “We’re practically like brothers.”

“Would you mind calling them?”

“Erm,” he titled his head like he was confused by the question. “Well, like I said, Joe is a bit busy, but I could definitely call Kevin.

“Here,” Khalid said, “use my phone.”

“I have my own,” he said with a frown.

“Humor me,” she requested.

“Uh, okay,” Pat agreed. He took the offered 2999 phone and dialed a number on it. Khalid reached over to put it on speaker.

“Hello?” a voice asked after a few seconds.

“Um, hey Kevin, it’s Nick.”

There was a sigh on the other end. “Hello Nick, is something wrong? Why are you calling me from someone else’s phone?”

“I’m fine, I think.” He looked up at Khalid. “Why am I calling him exactly?”

“Hello, I’m Officer Khalid,” Khalid said. “I just wanted to confirm that you are Nick Jonas’s roommate, and he does live in Manaus.”

“Yes, we live together with our other roommate,” the man replied flippantly. “Officer? Is something wrong?”

“I believe there was just a case of mistaken identity,” Khalid said.

“Bullshit there was!” Janus hissed, though she could not hear him.

“No need to worry,” Khalid continued.

“I’m good Kevin,” Pat said.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Kevin asked.

“Don’t be Paranoid, Kevin. I’ll see you Tonight for the New Years Celebration. You know I Live to Party.”

“I am hanging up now,” Kevin said.

“No! Comeback.” The line went dead. Pat handed the device back to Khalid.

She took it and smiled at him. “Give us just a couple of minutes,” she requested. He nodded easily, and she and Remus exited the interrogation room. “I… think we’re done here,” Khalid said.

“No, he’s lying,” Janus insisted, and got a dubious look in return. “I know he is! Remus!”

“The alibi is pretty solid…” Remus said, “and he doesn’t have the bomb on him.”

“Oh, come on,” Janus said. “You can’t say there is nothing fishy going on here.”

Khalid and Remus shared a look. “Janus,” Khalid said. “I respect your intuition. It is usually very good, but you have been a bit intense about the man from the 1920s, and I think that may be blinding you a bit...”

“I am not imagining this!” Janus said. “That’s him and he took it.”

“You only met him once while he was wearing a mask,” Khalid pointed out with a frown, “and you didn’t see him take the bomb, did you?”

“No, but he looked at me and I knew,” Janus argued. They both gave him a skeptical look. “Oh, come on!”

“You know that’s a little weak, Jan,” Remus said.

“Let me talk to him,” Janus requested. “Just give me five minutes to talk with him.”

Khalid raised one eyebrow. “Fine,” she agreed. “You have five minutes, but after that, you have to let it go. We can’t waste any more time.”

Chapter 8

Pat looked up as Janus stepped into the interrogation room. “Hi,” he said with an innocent smile that could cut steal.

Janus didn’t say a word as he took a seat; he just watched him intently. He leaned slightly over the table and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “So, your name is Nick this time?” Janus asked.

“Nicholas Jonas,” he said. “Always has been.”

“Stop it,” Janus said.

“Stop what?”

“Cut the crap. I know.”

Pat leaned forward, mirroring Janus as he leaned closer, interlocking his fingers and laying his chin on top of his knuckles. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked, pleasantly.

“Janus,” Janus replied.

“No, I’m Jonas,” he said, pointing to his chest.

“Not Jonas,” Janus spat. “Janus.”

“Um,” Pat said, eyes alight with amusement. The bastard. “Those are the same words.”

“No, they’re not. It’s Janus. J-A-N-U.-S.”

“Well, that’s confusing,” Pat said with a frown, but his nose was crinkling. “It’s close to my name. You should go by a nickname instead.”

“What?” Janus said. “No.”

Pat hummed. “How about Love Bug?”

“What! No!” Janus sputtered, almost flipping the table, as Pat winked at him.

“BB Good?”

“What does that even mean?!”

“Mandy.”

“No!”

“Okay, okay, how about Macy Misa.”

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Janus stared at him for a moment. “Fine. Whatever. What was I even talking about?”

“Hmm. I Believe we were talking about my name and how you think it’s not my name.”

“Right,” Janus said. “So, Nick. That was your roommate, Kevin on the phone, right? He seemed a bit unhappy with you. Any reason?”

“Nah, we’re Cool” said Pat. “That’s Just the Way We Roll.”

“Not because you’re messing up a mission right now?”

Pat’s eyes crinkled together. “A mission?” he parroted. “I’m not messing up a mission.”

“Oh, really?” Janus growled. “Because you’ve been captured by the TPI, and I know who you are and what you’ve been doing.”

“I have no idea what the TPI is,” he claimed.

“Yes, you do!” Janus said, standing up. “You obviously do! Or you wouldn’t be playing this game!”

“Game?” Pat asked. “Macy I ask you what you’re talking about.”

“This is all just a game to you isn’t it!” Janus said, slamming his hands down on the table in front of them.

“Whoa,” Pat said, putting his hands up. “Calm down. Your face is getting all red. You must be Burnin’ Up.”

“I’m not sure what, but something about what you just said pisses me off.”

“And that is five minutes,” Khalid said, bursting into the room. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt and glared back at Remus who was putting his own body between Janus and Pat.

“There was no way that was five minutes,” Janus growled.

“It was five minutes,” Khalid gritted out. “Remus, get him out of here.”

“Come on Jay,” Remus said, dragging him back towards the door.

“Remus, I swear to god.”

“Just chill, Janus,” Remus said, slamming the door closed behind them.

Janus shrugged him off. “You chill!” he snapped. “He’s playing you all for the fool.”

“Wow, Macy,” Remy drawled like an asshole. “I’ve never seen you so fired up.”

“Oh, my gosh. No one is going to believe me, and he’s going to get away with this.”

“You’re not really helping your case, babe,” Remy said.

Remus grabbed him by the shoulders again. “Here, let’s go get some water.”

“I don’t want water,” he said even as he let Remus lead him to another room to get a glass of water.

“Look,” Remus said. “I know the Mask Guy thing really sucked, but you have to look at the facts.

“I am looking at the facts,” Janus insisted, “and the facts are, he’s fucking with me.”

“You don’t know what mask guy looks like,” Remus said. “You didn’t see Nick take the time bomb, he has an ID from this time period and a roommate in this time he called on the phone, and he legitimately seems to not know what any of us are talking about.”

“Did you even listen to our conversation?” Janus asked. “He was screwing with me the entire time!”

“Janus…” Remus said.

“What?” Janus said, narrowing his eyes at Remus’s tone.

“I know you recently had a bad experience, but not everyone who flirts with you is doing it out of evil.”

Janus’s mouth hung open for a few seconds. “That’s what you got out of our conversation?”

“He called you Love Bug.”

Janus felt his face heat a bit at the reminder. “That’s not… I. I’m stealing your cat and then never speaking to you again.”

Remus laughed. “Ah,” he said. “Young lust.”

Janus elbowed him roughly in the side. “No!”

“Yes!” he crooned, pleased.

“You are the worst partner,” Janus hissed. “When I’m right you owe me 10 loafs of your fresh bread.”

“Branching out from poptarts?” Remus asked.

Janus shook his head. He still wasn’t happy about the state of things, but he could feel himself cooling down a bit.

Khalid came out of the integration room after a few minutes, leaving Pat with Remy. “What was that?” she asked him.

“He got under my skin,” Janus said.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “For now, we’re letting him go and then going back to looking for the bomb like we’re meant to be.”

“Fine,” Janus relented. “Just do me the favor of tagging him before he leaves. Just that. I beg of you.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “If it will calm you down.”

He nodded.

“Then, let’s go,” she said. When they met back up with Remy and Pat, he saw Khalid make the subtle gesture that would tag Pat like they would have for the Millennium Birds. Pat sent him what could pass as a sweet smile if Janus didn’t know better. Then, they walked him outside, leaving Remy on clean-up duty for the make-shift security office.

“So, I’m free to go?” Pat asked. His bemused expression edged far too much on the side of amused verses confused for Janus’s taste.

“You are,” Khalid said. “Have fun at the festivities.”

His hands went flapping about. “Oh, you too!” he said. “Well, I guess you’re working, but you can have fun anyway, I’m sure.”

“We’ll do our best,” she said.

He gave her a blinding smile and reached forward to shake her hand enthusiastically. Janus rolled his eyes and looked up at the heavens. “It was nice to meet you!” he said, “and you too, Remus!” He turned to meet Janus’s eyes. “Macy Misa.”

Janus pressed his lips together.

Then, Pat turned and walked away.

“Well, now that we’re done with that,” Khalid said, turning to them. “We have only a few more hours before midnight and we really need to find the time bomb.

“Oh,” Pat called. He’d paused a few yards away and turned back to them. “Thanks for letting me go so easily by the way,” he said, “and just in the Nick,” he winked, “of time too.” Janus narrowed his eyes at him. He smiled back. “Wrist check,” he said holding up his arm to show off the timepiece there. Khalid immediately looked down at her own wrist just to see that the one timepiece that could move through the time lock was no longer there. Pat made a gesture and disappeared.

All three of them stared at the spot he’d been for a long moment.

Janus was the one to speak first. “I want. The yellow. To be erased. From my record.”

Chapter 9

Khalid immediately called everyone back to base.

“What happened?” asked Fred when he and Lena arrived. The tech people were already scrambling to get through to the TPI and get the time lock broken from the outside.

“Remus, Remy, and Khalid got played by Pat or whatever his name is. It certainly isn’t Nick. He was just setting up a joke,” Janus told him.

“Stop being smug,” Remy said. “It’s not a good look for you.”

“Pat is…?” Lena asked.

“They guy who fucked me over in 1923,” Janus said, “and is currently in the middle of fucking us all over because he stole the pin timepiece, and by extrapolation, probably the time bomb too.”

“It will be fine,” said Khalid, “because what he doesn’t know is that timepiece has a tracker on it. Wherever and whenever he went, we’ll have his coordinates.”

“Speaking of,” one of the techies said. “It’s about to break. You might want to hold onto something.” Janus grabbed for a support beam next to him as the techie put a device on the ground in the center of the base. It blinked once, twice, and on the third blink the ground rumbled. There were sounds of panicked yelps outside. The fail safe for the time lock was not nearly as gentle as ending it correctly.

Everything settled after a few moments, and they all straightened themselves out. Janus’s timepiece buzzed to indicate it was now functioning normally. Khalid had returned her usual timepiece to her wrist and now used it to open a display they could all see. “The pin timepiece’s closest time/space coordinates are…” she trailed off. “Right outside?” She frowned. “That’s strange. Why would he still be here?” She turned to march outside, following the coordinates to a trash can. She pulled the pin timepiece out and stared at it. “Fuck,” she said.

“What just happened?” Remy asked.

“He ticked us,” Janus said. “Again.”

“He was stuck in the time lock,” Khalid said. “That’s why he got our attention. He couldn’t leave with the time bomb unless he had the pin timepiece or we broke the time lock. Apparently, he’s smart enough to know that if he took the pin timepiece away from here, we’d probably be able to find him, but he knew we’d break the lock as soon as the pin went missing. So, he must have stashed his own timepiece and went back in time within the time lock to grab it while we were distracted with the past version of him. As soon as the time lock went down, I imagine he left.”

“Probably with the time bomb,” Janus said.

“Probably with the time bomb,” she confirmed.

And everyone knew the only thing worse than a time bomb was a time bomb you didn’t know the location of.

They evacuated after that, of course, and time locked the location once they were out just in case they were wrong, but midnight 3000 struck without thousands of people dying in Brazil, so the time bomb had defiantly been removed from then.

The, they initiated a time travel lockdown for all nonessentials, not willing to let random history students get caught up in an explosion if Pat decided to set the thing off somewhere.

Then, it was a matter of figuring out everything they could about ‘Pat.’ First, they checked the tracker data as Khalid had tagged him with one of the Millennium Bird trackers. It wouldn’t work outside of the zone they’d set up that day, but the record would show his behavior during the time lock after he’d escaped with the pin timepiece.

There had been many little green dots on the map that day as Fred and Lena had actually been doing the job they’d set out to do, but most of those were running around in the south. There had been one green dot, however, that appeared suddenly in the game area about 10 minutes before the time bomb had been stolen.

They could see Janus’s yellow dot almost brush his when he’d been chasing the earlier Pat down, around when he’d lost him briefly. The earlier Pat must have all but handed it off to his future self.

“He doubled back,” Remus commented when they watched the recorded data. It was a ballsy move and one that most people balked at, because there were inherent dangers any time you interacted with yourself from a different point in the timestream. It was ripe for paradoxes. It made everyone at the agency even more worried, because if he was willing to risk that, then what else was he willing to do?

Because of the lockdown of all nonessential time travel, people working for the TPI were not allowed to go home for the night. They were allowed to pick up anyone or anything dependent on them for care like kids and pets if there wasn’t someone in their home time to care for them, but other than that, they were unfortunately all sleeping in their offices for the foreseeable future.

“You are the only tolerable one,” Janus told the cat who upon being let loose in the office by Remus, immediately jumped on Janus’s lap.

“I have literally done nothing to you,” Lena said, but then added. “Yet.”

“You exist. In my space.”

“Can’t we just all get along?” asked Fred. “It’s only been an hour past when we’d usually go home. I went and grabbed milk and I have my giant thing of different flavored hot chocolate under my desk. We can try them all and vote on which is better.”

“Fuck your hot chocolate, Fred,” Janus growled, having been one of the three who had chipped in to buy it for him on his last birthday.

“Don’t go after Fred, jackass,” Lena spat.

“He’s just testy because his boyfriend escaped,” Remus contributed.

Janus’s lips turned down into a frown and he cupped Diesel Fuel’s face. “We agree we’re eating him first, right?” he asked her.

She purred her agreement.

“I’d have it no other way,” Remus replied.

“There is plenty of food,” Fred said, sounding stressed. “In fact, I was thinking we should all chip in on ordering take-out soon. “What does everyone like on pizza?”

“This is not a slumber party, Fred,” Janus pointed out.

“Shut it,” Lena snapped and turned to Fred. “I’m fine with almost everything, except…”

“Bananas and tuna salad!” Remus interrupted.

“…whatever Remus is about to say.”

Janus rolled his eyes as that started a debate about whether or not fruit and/or fish belonged on pizza. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, which was when there was a knock on the door.

He froze when he heard the familiar voice. “Hello, hello,” said Emile, cheerfully. Janus looked up to see Emile standing at the open office door. Shit. Apparently, the man had decided to give up on sending lackeys to come fetch him and had decided to track him down himself when Janus couldn’t even escape without breaking a time lockdown. They met eyes briefly and Janus could see irritation if not anger in his eyes despite his otherwise cheerful expression and tone.

“Janus,” he said when he’d gotten their attention. “I’d like to have dinner with you.” The word choice told Janus everything he needed to know. Usually Emile was careful with how he said things to make sure people knew they had a choice. Typically he’d say something like, “I was wondering if you’d have time to have dinner with me tonight,” or “I’m about to go get food, would you like to come?” Today, there was no choice in the statement.

Janus still dried to dodge anyway. “Uh,” he said. “We were actually about to order pizza.”

“Go ahead,” said Fred kindly. Janus wanted to strangle him. “We can order pizza with olives if you’re not here.”

“I…” said Janus. “Guess, I’ll be going with you.”

“Great!” Emile said. “Let’s go.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “Uh, now?”

“Now,” Emile said a bit of uncharacteristic steel to his tone.

Well, Janus was screwed. He swallowed his nervousness and got to his feet, taking Diesel Fuel with him. He turned to hand her off to Remus with a plea in his eye, but he just got an eyebrow raise in return. Traitor.

Then, he followed Emile out of the office door. “What would you like to eat?” asked Emile.

“Uh,” Janus said. “I don’t know. You asked me to eat, don’t you have any ideas?”

“I don’t actually,” Emile replied. Right.

“…Noddle Bar?” Janus threw out the nearest restaurant he knew.

“The one noodle restaurant? Sure,” Emile answered simply. They walked side by side out of the front doors of the TPI building. Janus actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken these stairs. He usually used his timepiece to get in and out.

The noodle bar was only moderately busy at this time. They were quickly able to find a table near the back and Emile pulled his menu up in front of him. Emile hummed as he flipped through the different displays. “What are you having?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said, only then pulling up the menu himself, but still not quite looking at it.

“What about the fortune noodles,” Emile suggested.

Janus shook his head. “I don’t like those,” he said.

Emile glanced at him through the menu displays. “You used to.” Fortune noodles were a bit cheekily named. They didn’t actually indicate anything about your future. They were just supposed to taste like what you wanted from your future. A grad student might experience a feeling like they’d just aced a paper. A child that they got to stay up an hour later that night. Janus had liked the experience when he was younger, but in recent years, he’d begun to taste the underlying chemicals in the dish until that’s all he could.

“Well,” Emile said lightly, eyes on his menu. “That makes me even more worried for your mental health than I already was because of the almost three years of you avoiding talking to me.”

“No small talk, huh?” Janus asked.

“Forgive me,” Emile said, eyes now focused on Janus, and tone much darker. “How has your life been since I last saw your face 5 months ago during a business meeting and you refused to look me in the eye? Anything interesting happen? Shave your head and let it all regrow? Develop an allergy to peanuts? Join a convent and take an oath of silence that you only just broke today?”

“No,” said Janus quietly into the table.

“Great,” Emile said clipped. “Small talk over. Order your food.” Janus reached up blindly to select the first thing that came up on the food and drink menu as Emile punched something into his own and both menu displays disappeared, meaning there was nothing between their faces anymore. “You know, I was willing to give you a year,” Emile said. “I was willing to let you deal with it on your own because I thought eventually, you’d come talk to me about it, but apparently I was mistaken. The next year, I thought maybe you thought I didn’t want to talk to you, so I subtly made myself available, and you never took me up on the offer. I thought maybe I was just not being clear, and I should make my desire to talk to you more explicit, but as you have been routinely, clearly avoiding me at every single turn, I’ve decided I’ve had enough. So, let’s lay it all on the table. Is it me or do you need help?”

Janus closed his eyes. “It’s not you.”

“Then you need help,” Emile concluded.

Janus shook his head.

“Yes,” Emile snapped. “Whatever this is has gone on far too long.”

Janus stood up and slammed his hand down on the table. “And it’s going to keep going on!” he said. The food popped up at that moment. It appeared Janus had ordered lasagna and bubble tea, and Emile had ordered something with spaghetti and a fizzy drink.

“So, you’re just planning to go on being miserable then?” Emile asked, and Janus wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that he didn’t sound angry anymore.

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Janus slapped his hand down on the “To Go” button and his dinner was insta-wrapped by the table. “Yes,” he said.

“What exactly do you think you’re paying penance for, Janus?” Emile asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Janus said, paying for both of their meals with his fingerprint.

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” Emile said. “All you’d have to do is talk to me. Or even just talk to someone else. Please.”

“Just…” Janus said, grabbing his bag of food to avoid looking at him. “Just, leave me be.” He walked out of the noodle shop without another word.

Chapter 10

“And I thought Remus was going to be the most disgusting roommate in this equation,” Lena grumbled. Janus and Lena were apparently the earlier risers in the group as Fred was still curled up around a pillow and Remus was sprawled out under his desk.

Janus flipped her off.

“Protein infused Poptarts and caffeinated orange juice for breakfast?” she asked. “Just eat an energy bar and have a cup of coffee like a normal person.”

He took another pointed bite of his Poptart.

“You’re a horrible roommate. This is why they gave us different partners.”

“Yeah, well you snore, asshole,” Janus said after finishing off his meal.

“I’d tell you to go eat shit, but you already did that once this morning.”

A pillow flew across the room and somehow managed to hit the both of them. “S’op fighting,” Fred mumbled. “It’s sleep time.”

“It’s morning Fred,” Lena said.

“No,” Fred mumbled.

Janus ignored them, turning back to his integration port to continue to keep plugging in phrases of interest, but he kept getting nothing.

“What are you doing?” Lena asked after a few moments of him huffing at his screen reader.

“Trying to do anything that may change our current living arrangements.”

She puffed out an amused breath. “Can I help?”

“Can you see any connection between these words and phrases?” he asked, pulling away his screen reader and tapping at the words he’d typed out.

“Paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback, love Bug, BB good, Mandy, Macy Misa, I believe, cool, that’s just the way we roll, burnin’ up,” she said. “What are these?”

“They’re things Pat said when we interrogated that struck me funny,” Janus explained. “I feel like he was saying something more than what he said.”

“Hmm,” she said. “PTI for the first three?”

“Maybe,” Janus agreed, “but what about the rest of it? I feel like I’m missing something.”

15080

“Millennia,” Remus mumbled from under his desk. Janus hadn’t been aware he was awake. “He said something something about it being the only time he could see the change of the millennia.” He turned his head to look at Janus. “Considering he’s a time traveler, that’s definitely a weird thing to say.”

“Millennia,” Janus contemplated. “A different turn of the millennia. Oh no.”

“What?” Lena asked.

Janus sighed, and rubbed his temple. “I know someone who studied the 1700-2200s.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“No,” Janus groaned, “because now I have to go talk to him.” He stood with a sigh and then paused. “How do I even get to Silver Mountains University without my timepiece?”

#study break stories #not writing

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maangoes · 5 years

Note

girl drop those brown tony fics

ok limited release 4 the desis……………..

Anthony Edward Stark. It’s his name — legally, it’s his name, his father made sure of that, but his mother— Maria, they called her, but her name was Mythili. And Anthony was what they called him, but she whispered the name Ajay in his ear every night before bed, and she used to sing to him in a high, lilting voice, clutching him close to her chest and running a gentle hand through his hair. She smelled like jasmine flowers. His father didn’t deserve her. He loved her, but he didn’t deserve her.When she died, he shoved away everything that reminded him of her. He buried himself in work and designed 1001 ways to kill someone for the company. He stuck by Rhodey— who always got the same funny looks Tony did, when staring down a room of Pale Stale Males. He kept his head down. He settled into the name Anthony. The name Tony.And then, right at the peak of his forgetting, he got stranded and left for dead in the desert.

His captors spoke in Urdu and if he closed his eyes and listened hard, he could pick apart what they were saying. None of it was particularly helpful, but the edge made him smug, gave him that patented Tony Stark Edge of Confidence.“S’the closest I’ve ever been to India,” he admitted to Yinsen, in the damp darkness of the cave.Yinsen lifted an eyebrow, swallowing a mouthful of cold, flavorless dal. “Really?”“Yeah.” Tony glanced down, tugged a hand through his perpetually unruly hair. “Mom always meant to take me, but never got around to it.”“I’ve been. A few times. Once to Delhi, once to Kerala.”Yinsen made Tony promise he’d go when he got out. Tony, who had no intention of getting out, easily conceded.When he touched down in California several weeks later, he told Pepper he wanted an American cheeseburger. He ate three, held a press conference that would change the course of history, and talked to Obie in a voice that trembled a little, maybe.“I saw people dying.” Tony doesn’t say: people that looked like me, but Obie hears it trailing off the end of his sentence anyways.“Jesus, Tony, don’t turn this into— into one of those—““I have to go to bed,” Tony cuts in, because it’ll be hard to still be friends with Obie if he lets him finish that sentence. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”Obie hesitates, expression slowly collapsing into a small smile. He claps one huge palm on Tony’s shoulder. “Of course. Get your rest.”Tony falls asleep that night with his mother’s favorite sari pillowed beneath his head. He used to think it looked like swathes of the night sky, stitched together with gold thread that glinted like stars.He doesn’t go to India. At least not yet.-“Tony?” Steve’s voice comes from somewhere deep in the recesses of the closet, “is this you?”Tony, fighting against the urge to throw away every suit he owns and cursing the schmuck who invented spring cleaning, sticks his head up from where he’s spread-eagled on the floor. Steve has appeared in the entryway of the closet, and is holding up a photo Tony had hoped to never see again.He flops his head back down on the floor and squeezes his eyes shut. “No?”He hears Steve padding over to him, feels him settle next to Tony on the floor, run an idle, possessive hand along the inside of Tony’s thigh.Tony opens one eye to find Steve smiling, smug little bastard.

“Do you want to try that again, Anthony?” he asks, holding up the photo.Tony sighs and sits up, extracting it from Steve’s grip. “It was a hard day.”“They shaved your head.”“They did. It was for mundana - first haircut ceremony.”Steve repeats the word, syllables tripping clumsily off his tongue. Tony grins, climbs into his lap, and cards a hand through his hair.“You look awful cute.”“Shut up,” Tony rolls his eyes, ducking forward for a quick kiss. Steve squeezes his hip, the gesture intimate and affectionate in a way that takes Tony’s breath right out of his lungs.“I’m not letting you throw any of the photos away.”“Waste of space.”“They’re memories. And you look so beautiful in all of them.”“Even without my hair?”“Even without your hair,” Steve says, unbearably earnest. He supplies another photograph from his pocket and Tony scowls. Thief.“I love this one.”Tony glances at the photo. He’s fourteen, hovered over a lit oil lamp for Diwali. He has two gulab jamuns shoved in his cheeks and he’s smiling like an absolute idiot.“You love the worst ones,” Tony grouses, pinching the soft skin of Steve’s neck.Steve smiles and gingerly sets the photo on the window sill. Tony let’s out an oof of surprise when he secures a hand under Tony’s thigh and unceremoniously flips them over, settling neatly between Tony’s legs.“We can talk about these things you know,” Steve places a large, dry palm on Tony’s cheek. Tony leans into the touch. “I want to know you. Every part of you.”“You will,” Tony says immediately, then stops to think about it. Steve eating oily prasad with his fingers, grinning at Tony over a carefully sectioned aluminum plate. Steve sporting reddened skin and a sweaty upper lip, his super-soldier immunity useless under the beating southern sun. Steve meeting his mother, her rose-scented lips brushing his hairline.

That one hurts, a sharp prick of loss for something he never even had to begin with.“You will,” Tony says again, sincere. Maybe not all of me. All at once. But you will.“Okay,” Steve agrees easily, ducking down to press a kiss on Tony’s collar. -“What smells so good?”Steve stands in the doorway of their bedroom, a towel slung low on his hips. He’s still damp from his shower, and there are cuts and bruises peppered along his skin. He’s been away on assignment for three days, and Tony has missed him like a physical ache.“Come here,” he says, the tenderness in his own voice surprising him. “Come here, sit between my legs.”Steve doesn’t hesitate, quickly making his way across the bedroom and settling in front of Tony, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. Tony loves the slide of the silk sheets on his bare legs.“Tip your head back.”“Are you going to stick a wet finger in my ear or something?”“You do one thing one time—““It was gross—““Tip your head back,” Tony interrupts, tugging lightly on the hair at the back of Steve’s head. Steve complies, resting his hands on Tony’s knees. Tony dips his fingers in the tub of coconut oil on his bedside table and cards his hands through Steve’s hair, rubbing at his scalp. Steve makes a noise Tony has thus far only associated with sex.“That feels so good,” Steve says, voice full of wonder. God, Steve should always sound like that. “Is it—““Coconut,” Tony finishes, sliding his thumbs down to the base of Steve’s scalp. “My super soldier serum. I’m gonna have a full head of hair at ninety.”“I’ve gotta say, the transmission process is a lot more pleasant.”“Dork,” Tony says affectionately. He leans away for a second, reaching on the bedside table and swiping through two fingers in a dish of turmeric paste. “Turn back around.”Steve can’t do anything delicately in this body, really, so he jostles the bed a lot over the span of his awkward maneuvering. Tony leans against the headboard and games for a peek at the curve of his ass.“Should I be doing this for you, too?” Steve asks, hooking his hands behind Tony’s knees and pulling him forward. Tony curls his legs around Steve’s waist. “I’m not hurt like you,” he says, scowling pointedly.Steve smiles, swipes his thumb along Tony’s lower lip. Tony bats his hand away.“Hold still,” he directs.Tony rubs the turmeric into the cuts along his collar, up the side of his neck. Steve stays obediently motionless, though his eyes track Tony diligently, dark in the low lighting of their room. “I know you have accelerated healing,” Tony says, wiping his hands on a cotton cloth. “I’m just covering all our bases.”“Makes sense,” Steve hums, tipping his forehead against Tony’s. “Love you.”“And will you love me when you have to ride a horse for our wedding?”Steve blinks. “Oh—““And learn very complicated dance choreography for our Sangeet?”“Well, I—““And eat an entire deep fried chili?”“That one’s made up.”“How do you know that?” Tony challenges, sliding his hands up Steve’s biceps.“Because I’ve researched it and I’ve heard of the other two,” Steve says, easy as anything. “But no deep fried chilis, you absolute menace.”“You did research?” Tony presses, his grip on Steve tightening minutely.Steve blushes, lashes sweeping as he glances at the little space between them. “Well— I like to be prepared.” He looks back up at Tony. “Don’t freak out.”“Whatever,” Tony says, voice breaking a little. “—Lame.”Steve grins and pushes Tony back against the bed, tucking his face in the crook of his neck. Tony sighs (hopefully not as dreamily as it sounds to his own ears) and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck.“You know one of us has to turn off the light.”“Whatever,” Steve says, voice all funny and high pitched, like he’s impersonating Tony. Tony pinches his shoulder and laughs, and it feels like sunshine spreading from the center of his chest.-That night, he dreams about his mother threading jasmine flowers in his hair. For the first time in his life, it doesn’t hurt to think about the next morning.

#desi tony stark #stevetony #mayawritesstuff #Anonymous #me? constantly fantasizing about making over marvel movies with positive social emssages? its more likely than u think

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irrevocably-delicious · 5 years

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Cultivating an enjoyable video games experience with non gamers aka How do I get my non-gamer significant other to play games with me?

Video games.

Once a niche hobby of adult programmers in the 70s, before targeting 10 year old boys in the 80s and 90s, video games are now a mainstream hobby and entertainment product that has shown tremendous growth in the past 30 years. While films and serialized shows have shown some developments, with new technologies and the invent of streaming, the gaming industry has undergone a complete transformation in only a few short decades. Entire genres have been created, along with improved graphics, mechanics, and storytelling.

But with more people getting into video games now more than ever, the age-old question continuously resurfaces:

“How do I get my significant other to play video games with me?”

And it’s an understandable question! Games are an important hobby to some, and it’s nice to be able to share in that passion and joy with the person you love most. I completely understand this. I’m a cosplayer and I’ve definitely conned my boyfriend into pressing seams for me or sitting in hour long panels about EVA foam. It’s not exactly his number 1 priority, but we have fun together doing it, and he’s able to appreciate my craft a little more because of it.

Similarly, he’s not an artist, but he always helps me table in Artist Alley, gives advice on new prints to make (“If you’re going to make a niche DnD print, at least display it near the DnD stuff to be a conversation starter”) and stays up til 2am cutting stickers with me. It’s exhausting, but we have a lot of good memories from doing it together.

It’s nice to include your significant others in activities that bring you joy.

So how the hell do you convince your partner to engage with video games… if they never have before? And what kinds of games are going to give you the best experience?

Hi. Welcome. This is where I come in.

I’m not a gamer. At all. I’m awful at video games. Whilst my boyfriend was growing up and devouring every console he could convince his parents to buy, I was being a horse girl. No Halo for me today, sir, I have a showjumping class to attend. The only video game I would willingly participate in was Singstar during sleep overs, and that was because I was a musical theatre kid and knew this would be the only video game that I could completely decimate my peers with. Street fighter? No thank you. But I will wreck your shit with Stacy’s Mom by Fountains of Wayne.

But somehow, even though this is my upbringing, I have to acknowledge the fact that over the past 10 years I’ve actually played… a lot of video games. I think I’ve figured out the key. I think I’ve distilled the answer. Now obviously this is purely based on my experience, and everyone will have slightly different results, but I will now present you with my scientific anthropological findings of how you may be able to repeat this process.

“How do I get my significant other to play video games with me?”

Now I think there are two ways to go about this.

1. Play a video game together where both of you are holding a controller and in charge of some aspect of the game. Ie. Character, assistant, the right foot, etc.

Now I realize this seems obvious.

“You mean I can play a video game with my significant other by actually playing a game with my significant other??? Uhhhh yeah…. I WOULD THINK SO”

But hear me out. Out of the two ways you can go about this, I actually think this is the hardest way (I’ll explain why soon). My partner and I do not often play games together like this. What we usually do, and what I would be more likely to recommend is:

2. Play a game where you (the gamer) have the controller, and your SO participates or watches from the couch.

This is what my boyfriend and I usually do, and it’s the less likely of the two options to cause arguments, fights, and tears.

But let’s first look at option 1.

Playing a game together

Do you remember when you were in high school and you had to do a film study for a semester? And your teacher would explain all the different camera shots and angles and what they meant? A low angle shot where a character towers above makes them seem intimidating. A character cloaked in shadow indicates that the character is sneaky.

Your teacher told you all this, but in reality, all of these meanings were probably pretty obvious to you. You intuitively knew what they meant because you had been raised on watching movies. You were already familiar with this language of film because it had always been present in your life.

Well guess what? Video games have a language too.

And just like film, if you have played video games your whole life, you might be surprised at just how much of this language you have absorbed, and how much of this literacy is REQUIRED to play a modern video game.

The fact that triangle is always jump, x to interact, L2 to aim, R2 to shoot, circle to crouch, square to reload… all of that is assumed knowledge that you would probably have ingested over time, so it comes completely natural to you now.

Your SO doesn’t know any of this. They probably don’t even know that the L and R buttons exist. I didn’t. I still forget.

This is why choosing a game to play together is so difficult. When you finally do choose one? You have to be patient. You cannot get annoyed when your SO has to ask every five minutes what jump is again. They may have difficulty navigating around menus and UI. They may have difficulty moving around in game. Side scrollers are pretty intuitive, but games that require you to position a camera? Ie. Most third person or first person anything? Oof. That’s hard. They might fall off a lot of bridges or stare at the ground a lot. This is a skill you have to build up. You have it already. They don’t. It’s important to remember that saying anything like “You can do it, it’s easy!” or “Why are you having so much trouble with this?” is NOT HELPFUL. It’s only going to make your SO feel stupid/bad. Remember, they don’t give a shit about video games. Their life has been just fine without them until now, and it will continue to be just fine without games. They are only doing this FOR YOU. So why would you want to make someone feel stupid for just trying to make you happy?

Treat them like a baby deer. Gently. Tentatively. You are slowly drawing them into the clearing. Any harsh comment will send them running.

Based on all this, here are some recommendations on games that work well to play with your SO.

1. Games you are SUPPOSED to be bad at.

You know how I just talked about how there are general conventions over controls? And that it can be frustrating for your SO to learn these whilst they come intuitively for you?

Well what if you eliminated that disparity by playing games where the controls intentionally make no goddamn sense? By playing a game with whacky controls, it evens the playing field. Your SO is learning and struggling with controls, but so are you! This way your stupidity is not humiliating, it creates a sense of comradery. There’s no shame, just silliness and fun. The game I played with my partner that made me first realise the genius of this was… Octodad.

Octodad is collaborative. It’s an absolute nightmare to control, but for once my boyfriend’s muscle memory was actually a detriment. He would instinctively go to move like he would in other games, but that’s not how Octodad works. So he was rewiring his muscle memory whilst I was just a blank slate.

“Trigger to grab things? Yeah sure. Why not? I don’t know any better.”

It also hits that sweet spot of being short enough that the silliness doesn’t grow stale, and has a sincere enough story that you do become invested in the fate of the octopus in your hands.

10/10 Octodad. Highly recommend.

Other games in this genre that I feel would be worth a look:

- Man Fall Flat

- QWOP

- Surgeon Simulator

- Super Bunny Man

2. Hey! It’s Nintendo!

Ah Nintendo. It’s where most children start, so it seems like a logical place for a burgeoning gamer to begin. But specifically, what I want to recommend are the range of excellent Nintendo party games that are simple to navigate, fun, and often cooperative. I can’t play an FPS, but Mario Kart comes very easy to me…. Or as easy as it does to anyone. Similarly, Mario Party requires almost no video game literacy, and you can introduce it to your SO as “It’s just a board game that happens to be a video game”.

Although we do joke about Mario Kart and Mario Party being “friendship killers” because of their competitive nature and how easy it is to sabotage other players. If you are worried about these games maybe causing to much distress, I would also recommend the tried and true Wii Sports or the more modern 1-2-Switch. It has a cow milking game! It’s fun! And you can laugh at one another as you make terrible dick jokes.

I DO NOT RECOMMEND SUPER SMASH BROS. THAT IS NOT AN INTRODUCTORY GAME.

If you really want, play it on co-op team mode.

In summary, when picking a game to play with your SO my general recommendations are:

- make sure the game has very simple controls and linear movement (if any at all)

- or have a game with bonkers controls so you can learn them together

- avoid competitive games to start. Or play competitive games that require no video game literacy. The best FPS or Tekken player is NOT going to win Mario Party. It’s just luck.

Playing games this way with my partner is fun, but not how we usually play games. This is because if I want to play a AAA title, or maybe a great JRPG I’ve heard about, I have to move on to the second method.

Playing games where the gamer has the control and the non-gamer watches/participates via other means.

This is how my partner and I generally play games. Because my partner is the one holding the controller, navigating the game, combat and menus, I am not required to have any of that assumed knowledge I mentioned earlier.

But how can you make watching a video game compelling?

It’s actually not as difficult as you might imagine, but you’re right in that it does rule out a chunk of games. If you have grand dreams of your non-gamer girlfriend fawning over your sweet League of Legends skills… then I think you need a bit of a wake-up call. Competitive online games, FPS and sports games (such as FIFA) are generally not fun to watch. This isn’t a blanket statement! Some non-gamers could find these fun. But generally, if you don’t know the skill it requires to perform certain moves or strategies, or are unfamiliar with even the basic rules… these games just look like a mess.

Me watching someone play Overwatch: “Wow… I suddenly have motion sickness”

I find the most compelling games to watch are: Narrative driven

Think of all the games that are basically movies with some gameplay thrown in. Uncharted and the Tomb Raider reboot are just long form Indiana Jones movies. The Last of Us is a survival, drama, horror movie that makes you question your morals and how far you are willing to go to help humanity. The Witcher captures a rich narrative and lore comparable only to the Lord of the Rings films. The Yakuza series might be the best mob movie I’ve ever seen. All of these games are great and as engrossing to watch as they are to play. Lovable characters, compelling obstacles, and a good dose of spectacle keep them entertaining. Narrative driven games are my favorite to just sit and watch whilst my partner plays.

However, “narrative driven games” encapsulates thousands of titles, with some being more suited to watching than others. To help narrow down games that are enjoyable without a controller, I’ve narrowed it down into 3.5 sub categories.

1. Games with a looser/more predictable narrative, but the visuals are just so damn appealing

2. Choice based games – with the sub category of puzzle games

3. Mediocre games, but they’re fun

Each of these categories creates a uniquely different gaming experience, ranging from a cinematic “sit and watch” style, to a higher participation, more co-operative team based style. Let’s start with the first as it’s the easiest to define.

1. Games with a looser narrative, but engrossing visuals

Sometimes games will have a good story, but you’re just not sure if it’s good enough to sustain someone’s attention for 20+ hours. Maybe it’s a little predictable. Maybe you know the hero is destined to save the day. Will this be enough to hold my SOs attention?

And I think you are really the only one to answer that.

But let me first tell you about one of my favorite games, and probably only the second game I ever played with my partner.

DMC.

I fucking adore this game.

Eat my ass. It’s great.

But is the story that great? I mean it’s cool. Half angel, half demon boys. Long lost twin brothers. An evil demon who killed your father and has now essentially become a mob boss and corrupted your city. It’s cool. It’s interesting enough, but at the end of the day, you know Vergil is going to betray you. You know your cardboard cut out girlfriend(?) is going to be a liability. You know you’re going to defeat that demon boss with your big sword.

But god damn, if it isn’t a riot to watch. Devil May Cry has some of the most stylish and slick combat, that it’s really entertaining to just witness. You can cheer on your SO on as they climb up to a SSS ranking and maintain their combo over 5 whole minutes. The soundtrack is blasting. The level design and art direction are stunning. Watching Dante get dragged into Limbo is always an experience, and you’re never quite sure what you’re going to walk into this time. DMC still has one of the most inventive boss fights I’ve ever seen and I’m honestly waiting for another game to top it.

So, I think if your visuals are captivating enough… that can definitely save a game with maybe just a good to average story. It’s just a treat for the senses.

Other games I would put in this category would be:

- The Arkham games, particularly Arkham City and Arkham Knight. God the combat is just great to watch, with each punch really feeling brutal and heavy. The spookiness of Gotham is eerily beautiful, and finding all the easter eggs in the world is a real treat.

- The latest Spider-man game from Insomniac games

- Breath of the Wild – I just like… being in this game

-Nier Automata – this one is a bit weird. I wasn’t sure which category to put it in, but felt because of the interesting mechanics and gimmick of playing over and over again to reveal more of the world and story, I decided to put it here.

2. Choice based games

This is definitely my favorite type of game to play, and the one that I think is the easiest to engage with, despite the lack of controller in my hand.

The whole reason I started playing games with my partner is because he was playing a game and after a while I just… sat down… and started watching.

The game was Mass Effect 3, and I just became really involved in the story and the choices my partner was making. We have since gone back and played the entire Mass Effect series multiple times, and I feel it really exemplifies what is so fantastic about playing a choice-based game with a non-gamer.

Choice based games still allow your SO to be heavily involved. If you are letting your SO make choices, then they are still playing the game. Just because I wasn’t the one actively shooting Collectors does not mean I had no impact on our game experience. It was my choice to cure the genophage. My choice to spare the Rachni queen, and you can be damn sure that it was my choice to romance Garrus across the series. Choice based games are fantastic for keeping your SO engaged and the two of you can cultivate your own story and endure consequences together.

Obviously I love Mass Effect, but some similar games in this style would be:

- Until Dawn

- The Witcher

- The Persona series – but be careful! These games are long so may not be great as an introductory game

Visual Novels! – Visual novels are excellent for this! They’re purely choice based, and it doesn’t matter who is clicking the next button. For an added amount of goofiness, take on roles and do stupid voices. Do it. It’s great. Nothing makes me laugh harder than romancing an anime schoolgirl with an old man voice.

They’re short, but can be replayed for a different ending if you wish. My partner and I played Dream Daddy together multiple times and were avid about who our favorite dads were. I liked Robert and Craig. My partner liked Damian and Brian.

My partner and I have actually just started playing a new visual novel, but along with it being choice based, I would also classify it as a puzzle/problem solving game.

2.5 Puzzle/problem solving games

Puzzle games are great for a similar reason as choice-based games, as they keep your SO involved. Only this time they are helping to problem solve. Many times I’ve been able to figure something out before my boyfriend, so I can go “ohhhh take that, drop it here, then move that here” and it’ll work!

Currently we’re making our way through the Danganronpa series, which is a bit of a hybrid between a visual novel and puzzle game. It’s not a difficult game to control or navigate at all, so I could play it on my own, but I like playing it with my partner as we bounce theories off of one another and work together to solve a crime. I’ll remember certain pieces of evidence he doesn’t, or he’ll remember one throw away line from the opening 3 minutes of the game that is now an alibi. During free time, we’ll each pick a character to talk to, so we both get to learn more about our favorite characters.

“I wanna talk to Sakura because she seems sweet and I want her to have friends”

“Ok, then I’ll talk to Mondo because he seems funky.”

And so on. The process is collaborative.

Some games of a similar genre that might be fun:

- Catherine from Atlus

- Portal 1 and 2

- The Phoenix Wright series

- Resident evil 2 – this one is a bit odd, but resident evil 2 is almost a memory game as you work to remember all the things you’ve picked up, the pieces you need to unlock doors, and prioritize the weapons you’ll take with you. “No take the grenade rounds. If we’re going in the offices, we left that face hugger there, remember?”

Finally this brings us to our third category, and also the most difficult to explain. So I’ve just called it:

3. Average Games, but there’s just something enjoyable about them

Sometimes games are just… fun. Sometimes the story is alright, the gameplay is repetitive, but the characters and writing are just so inherently likeable or interesting that you can keep watching. For me, this whole category was created as a way for me to justify my fondness for the Saints Row series.

Saints Row is, on paper, pretty unremarkable. It’s a ridiculous series of games about a street gang coming into fame and eventually political power, and the outlandish things they have to do to climb that ladder. Often cited as a “GTA clone” the gameplay is repetitive and almost boring at times, with most of the missions falling into the “Go here, kill people” category. The world isn’t particularly pretty or interesting. It’s just a city. One that you’ve seen a million times if you’ve played any city-based open world game.

So why do I love this unremarkable series? Why am I oddly attached to these characters?

Ultimately, I think it comes down to the characters being written with a certain amount of honesty, and the interactions between them feel genuine and oddly heartfelt. I don’t really care about rival gangs or accumulating money, but if it lets me ride in the car and have another sing along with Pierce, then I’m going to do it.

I like the weird sexual tension between the Boss and Shaundi, which only seems to become more prominent if you play as the female Boss. I love Matt Miller and him ranting about his Nyte blayde fan fiction. I like finding out the Boss has read Jane Austen.

It’s just silly and fun, with a good amount of ridiculous spectacle. It’s definitely not a series that I could recommend. It just kind of appealed to something in me. I think there are lots of games that could fit this category. Most people will say that the Borderlands series is “Alright” but it has a lot of fun dialogue and characters who keep it entertaining. Similarly, despite lack luster reviews, I know a lot of people really enjoyed the 2013 Deadpool game because Deadpool was written just like he is in the comics.

This category is the hardest to nail, and you may go through several games that you think are “hilarious” or “crazy fun” that just don’t gel with your SO. That’s ok. As you play more, you’ll eventually be able to develop a sense of each other’s tastes and what will appeal to you.

General Advice in closing

TL;DR, here are some good parameters to stick to until you reach a consensus of what games your SO might enjoy.

- Games with a good story and compelling characters will always be entertaining

- If the combat is long and takes up a good proportion of the game, it should be visually interesting to look at. If the combat is repetitive or boring to watch, it should clip along at a good pace and only come in short bursts. Bonus points if there’s party banter!

- Start with shorter games, then build up. It’s a big demand on someone to sit through a 60+ hour game for your first few attempts. Maybe put that Tales game on the shelf for now.

I’ve tried to keep this advice general, but obviously you and your SO will have different interests, and you should appeal to those. I love anime. I love hot boys. Due to these factors, I am more than willing to sit through a long form JRPG about two rival noble boys, as it appeals to my weeb sensibilities. This is not something I would expect others to be able to do.

I generally don’t like films about heists or organized crime. It’s just not a genre that appeals to me, so asking me to sit through Grand Theft Auto is probably not the wisest choice. I have played GTA5 for those that are curious, and it’s not my favorite. It’s definitely not bad, and I do expect other non-gamers would be entertained playing through the story of it. There’s definitely a good story there! It’s just not one that satisfies all of my needs. Just like how I don’t expect every person to love sitting through God of War or Jak and Daxter.

Getting to learn each other’s likes and dislikes takes time. Favorite movies can be a bit of an indicator, but transferring to a different medium complicates things. The most important thing is to listen to each other and be respectful. If your SO doesn’t like your favorite game of all time, that’s not a personal insult. You are likely just experiencing the game in a different way than they are, and they can’t relate to that.

Along with being respectful, obviously don’t pressure your SO into anything. Sometimes you’ll find that your SO might not want to play games with you because they had such an awful experience trying to play with their exes or other friends previously. I know I was really hesitant to ever pick up a controller again after an incident where I couldn’t navigate my character over a log, because I was not used to controlling a camera, and was made to feel really stupid and useless. I threw up my hands and said “Fuck this shit” for a long time. Your SO might be hesitant to play games with you because they worry that you’ll just get frustrated with how bad they are. You can reassure them that this won’t happen, but it’s still their choice to say no.

At the end of the day, it’s ok to have different hobbies. You don’t have to share everything. If you are lucky enough that your non-gamer SO might want to try playing games with you, then be kind, and be patient. When picking games to play together, try to pick something you can both enjoy. Go on a journey together. Have fun!

It’s a game after all.

#video games #gamers #storytelling #how do I tag this?#essay #advice #review #i write stuff #opinion #blog

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hantheheart · 5 years

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So Ella is my current Hyper-Fixation OC and Iron Man: Armored Adventures is that Hyper-Fixation

So here’s the first chapter of my currently un-named IMAA fanfiction

She pulls her phone out again, checking the time for the fifth time since she’d gotten to the testing facility. Tony had texted her earlier saying to meet him and Dad here to show off her brother’s newest invention, but it had been…

"Half an hour, are you guys serious?" She scoffs, pocketing the device again. What on Earth could they be doing? Must have gotten held up dealing with the Earth Movers project. Again.

Part of her wonders, only briefly, if Stane was the reason Tony and Dad weren't here yet. It was likely, what with the man's obsession with turning everything her brother and father had made into weapons. But she shakes the thought off.

Whatever it was…

Her phone suddenly goes off, blasting the opening lines of some rock n roll song Tony liked and had convinced her to make her ringtone.

She flips her phone back out and answers it with a huff. "Tony, you better have a good reason-"

"Miss Ella?" She stops her tirade short at the female voice.

"Oh, hi Trish!" Ella's tone changes to a more cheerful voice. "You wouldn't have happened to have heard from dad and Tony have you? They told me to meet them at the testing grounds, but that was a half hour ago."

"About that…" Ella frowns, not liking the way her father's secretary had trailed off so suddenly.

"Did Stane catch 'em on the way out? He never let’s up-"

"Ella, there's been an accident." The girl's words catch in her throat.

"What… Did something happen with the Earth Movers?"

"No, not those-"

"Trish, where are Tony and Dad?" Panic starts to settle in as her voice raises, one hand raising up to her face. "What happened!? Where are they!?"

"The plane." Trish speaks softly, mournful. "There was some kind of mishap with the engine, they're not sure what, but it… the plane was blown out of the sky and crashed on its way over to the Testing grounds."

Ella covers her mouth, body shaking as she presses her back to a nearby wall, tears pooling in her eyes.

"They aren't sure of anything right now, but… its not likely either of them survived the explosion, let alone the crash."

Anything else Trish has to say is lost to the distraught teen as the phone slips from her hand, her knees giving and her back slides down the wall. She crumbles into a pile on the ground, sobbing into her knees, fingers digging into the back of her head.

---___---

She's not sure how long she sits there, sobbing loudly until her body aches from the overwhelming pain at the loss, when her phone goes off again. This time it's that annoying default bell noise which is enough to drag Ella from her mourning to answer it.

"H-hello?" Her voice is small and hoarse.

"Ella! Finally! Where are you?!" The demanding voice on the other end is one she recognizes. Rhodey. Tony's friend.

"Testing grounds." She says pitifully. "Rhodey, Tony and Dad-"

"Tony's in the hospital!" Her body freezes again and her eyes widen in surprise. "You need to get here now!"

"Wha-but he…" She rubs her arm across the back of her face and gets to her feet. "Ok, ok. I'm on my way! Just- is he okay? How did he get there?!" She's bolting out to the runway as she speaks, heart caught in her throat.

"I'll tell you everything when you get here, just get here!" He shouts, clearly running from the sound of feet hitting pavement.

"Are you with him?" She demands, gesturing to the workers on the runway to prep the plane. "How bad is he, Rhodey?'

"The ambulance is taking him right now, I'm- oof! Sorry!" He calls to someone before continuing. "I'm heading to the hospital right now, mom's in the ambulance with him!"

"I'll be there as soon as I can." She boards the jet. "I'm expecting answers when I get there." With that, she snaps the phone shut and sits down, biting her tongue.

The flight over is uneventful and Ella wastes no time telling the driver waiting for her to step on it. The ride there is filled with anxious thoughts, worrying over Tony's condition.

She bursts through the doors and heads for the elevator where Rhodey is leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

"I want answers. Now, James." She snaps, coming to stand beside him as the elevator comes down.

"Look, just-" He gasps, a hand on his chest as the other braces him against the wall. "Gimme a sec."

The elevator dings and both teens board, Ella turning to glare at her brother's best friend. "James. Now."

"Ok, all I know is Tony was wearing some suit thing and he was in really bad shape and the suit was messed up-"

"Wait, suit? Tony's secret project?"

"Yeah, but it's busted now so it's mostly just scrap."

Ella sighs and shakes her head."At least he's in one piece."

Rhodey nods in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest.

The elevator dings again as the doors open to the third floor. The two disembark, Ella hurrying for where Rhodey's mother is sitting and talking on her phone.

"Mom!"

"Mrs. Rhodes!" The teens call as they rush down the hall. She looks up at them and nods, putting one finger to her mouth as she listens to whoever was on the other end.

"Yes. ...Okay. ...Yes, Ella just got here. ….Ok, I'll be sure to let her know.” She frowns slightly, then nods. “Alright. Thank you.” With that, Roberta hangs up and turns to the kids, standing to pull them both in for a hug.

“How’s he doing, Mom?” Rhodey asks as he pulls away, keeping one hand on his mother’s arm. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“He’s in bad shape, but the doctor’s say he’ll make it. He’ll just be bed ridden for a while.”

Ella nods, swallowing back a cry of relief. Her chest aches harshly and she gingerly tugs at Roberta’s sleeve. “Do you think…. Can I go see him?”

Roberta sighs and puts her hand on Ella’s shoulder. “The doctors are still taking care of his wounds, but as soon as they say he’s okay, you’ll be the first one in, alright?”

Ella nods, sniffling and rubbing her eyes with the back of her arm. "Okay…"

---___---

She's not sure how long they sit out in the waiting room, Rhodey getting up to pace every few minutes and making Ella that much more nervous each time. It felt like hours.

"Miss Rhodes?" A nurse calls from the door. All three stand and look towards her. "Mister Stark is alright to take a visitor now."

Roberta gently pushes Ella forward and the girl rushes over, nervous and jittery. Part of her is afraid to see just how bad Tony's condition is. The other parts are just happy to know he's alive.

The nurse leads her through the bleakly colored halls, everything reeks of cleaner and it makes her skin itch thinking about how sterile everything is. They pass a few others who are rushing about, no time to even say hello or offer any signs of acknowledgement.

The nurse opens the door to Tony's room and Ella slips past her, the nurse shutting the door behind her. Ella can't help the nervous shudder that runs through her. The steady beeping of the heart rate monitor does little to still her own thundering heart as she pulls back the flimsy curtain.

"Tony?"

His breathing is deep, but off. There are far too many machines hooked up to him and his face has all kinds of bandaging. Her body trembles as she moves closer. The monitor beside his bed proclaims his vitals are stable, but she’s not sure she believes them.

She sits beside the bed, slipping her brother’s hand between her own. Worry pains her chest as she watches for any changes in his expression, some hint that he might be awake. It’s only now that she’s closer that she realizes his chest is glowing.

Beneath a way too thick cord, a small device is implanted in Tony’s chest and her heart leaps into her throat.

"Oh my god." She whimpers, bringing one hand to cover her mouth as tears pool. "Oh god, Tony. What… What're we gonna do?" She lets her head rest on the edge of the mattress and starts to sob.

#IMAA #iron man armored adventures #iron man armored adventures oc #iron man armored adventures fanfiction #fanfiction #Wild Lisa Writes

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cpt-america-aint-here · 5 years

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My friend gave me this amazing, leather bound copy of The Skeptic’s Annotated Bible and I love it and now I hafta make it a Good Omens/Ineffable Husbands thing

There are three options!

1) Crowley gets it for Aziraphale! An obvious and glorious choice! Aziraphale has a vast collection of books, and of bibles specifically, of all different types! He loves them! As a “joke”, Crowley gives this to him. In theory it could be a middle finger. A demon gives an angel a bible that points points out problems??? Oof! He can sell that to Hell! In reality, Crowley knows Aziraphale. Aziraphale loves this copy of the bible because he loves humans and their quirks and goodness and compassion! He loves that (some) humans look at what (some) other humans claim is the book that examples Goodness™️ and say “not good enough! There are injustices within this book! We should acknowledge them!” (Please note that while I, the poster of this, am not religious I think The Skeptic’s Bible is actually respectful and is intended to inform and challenge not attack and degrade.) He pours over this version and tries to better himself and his ways of spreading Goodness™️ as well as just plain old, human invented goodness and kindness. Aziraphale has always, since the Very Beginning, sought to be an example of Love and Acceptance and yeah he’s flawed but so are humans and so is Heaven (he doesn’t think that last part. At least not until After). More than anything though, he cherishes this version because Crowley gave it to him. It’s the only bible Crowley’s ever given to him. Neither of them mention the careful highlighting of every annotation of “Good Stuff” and the small, carefully written note next to the “Good Stuff” entry in the introduction that says, “you’re the only angel that spreads this, I, we, Earth would be lost without you.”

(After the Break Up at the bandstand, Aziraphale stands in the small apartment above the bookstore and holds this book. He doesn’t cry, there’s not time. He whispers an apology and says “I do, I do like you. I’d be lost without you.” He remembers the Holy Water, remembers the terror of Crowley so much as having it. Of what his demon may want it for, may do with it. Crowley says insurance and Aziraphale hears “exit”, hears “escape”, hears “a way out from this pain and the memory of falling and burning”. He’s never far from Crowley after he hands over the thermos. Just in case... The tartan pattern was intentional, planned. He hopes it reminds Crowley of a bowtie and an overcrowded bookstore and shared meals and ducks in a park. But after the band stand, after “I don’t even like you”, he’s terrified that the thermos will remind Crowley of Aziraphale. He hugs the bible tighter and doesn’t pray. Not to God and not to a demon. When they fight again later, he’s utterly consumed with relief that Crowley is standing there in front of him. He doesn’t tell him. Not until later, after a burnt down bookstore and an airfield and a bus ride and two trials. He tells him then. And after everything, he doesn’t hold the bible close and tight and whisper everything he wants to say into its pages; a demon who, deep down, had a little bit of good in him is there in its place instead. As everything is supposed to be.)

2) Aziraphale gives it to Crowley! Less of an obvious option for a variety of reasons (Crowley isn’t a bibliophile; Aziraphale can’t even admit they’re friends, giving such a gift - its a book! to Aziraphale, giving away a book is almost akin to a marriage proposal! - is too much; it’s a bible, Crowley is a demon, seems obvious). But maybe he does! Ostensibly, he’s spreading Goodness™️ and the Words of the Lord™️, he can sell that to Heaven. But in reality, when Aziraphale first read this, he got the same feeling as when he was asked, “What’s the big deal with knowing right from wrong?” And Crowley, Crowley doesn’t quite scoff at the gift, he’s too busy trying to remain unflustered. He never mentions it again but he cherishes the book. For all his spouting about humans doing Badness™️ enough on their own, he silently clings the their displays of, not Goodness™️, but kindness! And here is a bible full of calling out injustice! Of questioning! Of looking at God and Heaven and saying, “Now wait a minute...” The nights when he wakes screaming and drenched in sweat from a nightmare of burning and falling, the days when his wings ache and his eyes itch and humans are destroying each other without any interference from Hell, he reads and reads and reads until his back aches from sitting in the wrong way and his eyes water from squinting at the same words and humans rally around each other in big and small ways. More than anything though, he cherishes the book because Aziraphale gave it to him. It’s the only thing Aziraphales ever given without some stumbled excuse (it’s one of the few shows of Aziraphale’s doubt, of Aziraphale saying, not aloud but saying nonetheless, “maybe you’re not wrong, maybe things aren’t right, you never should have fallen, I’m sorry). They never mention the book in the first place, much less the inscription written in small, swirling handwriting in the very back that says, “perhaps you did do the right thing in questioning. There is nothing wrong in knowing good from bad.”

(He never pulls it out during the whole apocalypse incident. Not once. It sits, hidden, in his bedroom, worn and a bit tattered and held together by demonic will and Love. He rests a hand on its hiding place after “I don’t even like you” and “it’s over”, eyes flicking to the thermos of Holy Water for just a moment. He’s pulled out the two of them - two things Aziraphale has given him - together before. Always the Holy Water first. It’s those burning, falling, wings aching, eyes itching moments. Moments when he longs for oblivion and peace but then he sees the tartan pattern of the thermos and thinks of a blasted tartan bow tie and pulls out the bible and reads. After his world burns and pages turn to ash and no one answers, no one is there, the bookstore is empty other than him and a gaping cavern tears through him and he’d fall and burn for all of eternity to make this stop, to not have hung up on that last call, to not have lied and said he’d leave and never think of his angel, after his world ends, he’s ready to go to his apartment and run his fingers over the inscription as the water melts him into nothing. But, on his knees, he remembers that the thermos is empty. And all of the faith his angel had in him, a demon, did nothing in the end. Aziraphale still burned. He doesn’t know which side did this but he’s ready to bring them both to their knees, to destroy everything they’ve ever cherished and leave them to suffer through eternity like him, broken and alone and having failed to save what they loved. He refuses to think of the bible. Not until later, after a desperate plan and a little boy’s love for his dad and two trials and a rubber duck and dinner at the Ritz. He thinks of it then. And after everything, he doesn’t cling to the bible and pray to a God that cast him out; an angel who, under tartan and blue eyes and righteousness, was a bastard worth knowing, worth loving, is there in its place instead. As everything is supposed to be.)

3) The two of them got roaring drunk one time and accidentally wrote/drunkenly willed it into existence and neither of them ever admit it to A N Y O N E. They both have a copy though, hidden away. Gabriel also has a copy. In fact, he has many. He actively does not know how to read so he doesn’t actually know what it is that always appears in his possession every time he is on earth (sometimes multiple copies appear). He’s sure they must be a gift from the Lord. He proudly displays them. The angels that can read are too afraid to tell him. God can’t go into Gabriel’s office anymore. Not after she saw the dozens of copies displayed proudly and laughed so hard the Earth had an entire day where nothing bad happened and 4 humans on their way to Hell suddenly found themselves at the gates of Heaven with their names on the entrance list.

Tl;dr: I was given a copy of The Skeptic’s Annotated Bible and my entire body screamed Good Omens and Ineffable Husbands. The idea of Crowley giving it to Aziraphale or vice versus murdered me and my family with feels and sadness and I screamed about that for too many sentences. The idea of Aziraphale and Crowley drunkenly creating The Skeptic’s Annotated Bible and Gabriel being an absolute moron momentarily resurrected my will to live and motivation. So I used that resurrection to write this post. I think I’m funny.

#good omens miniseries #good omens #its really just me rambling #the skeptic’s annotated bible #tw suicude #tw #crowley #crowley good omens #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #a/c #air conditioning #look i just had the image #of both of them crying over this book #at different times #but like for the same reasons #because they think theyve lost the other for good #and they cant bear to be without each other #but they cant admit it #because theyre both broken and beaten down #because theyve been destroyed and betrayed by the people that are supposed to be forgiving and loving #but also they cant admit it #because theyre both stubborn and Dumb #gabriel is a dick its fine #god laughs at him because she thinks hes dumb #and the ineffable plan is her slow burn angsty and fluffy fic that ends in Aziraphale and Crowley living in a cottage together with ducks #satan ships it too #annnnnnd im done #oh also i forgot to tag the dumbass #gabriel good omens

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bolbianddolanhouse · 5 years

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BNHA AU [self insert]

Nani the heck is this? read here!

Chapter 1: *plays Joji’s Yeah Right*

“...and heres your living quarters, fully furnished and with groceries that’ll last a while” said my case worker as I meekly followed next to them.

“thank you! its really nice.” I said, trying to not sound sad.

“I know its tough being young and by yourself, but I believe in you Miss Palma! Don’t hesitate to give us a call if you have questions or need other arrangments.”

“thank you for your kind words, I’ll keep that in mind” I said as politely as I could because I knew I wasn’t going to call them for shit. “Ill get my luggage out of my car, its not much so I’ll be fine if you need to leave”

“oh alright, Ill leave you to settling in and remember that a UA staff will be coming by with your uniforms tomorrow in the afternoon.”

oh jeez I forgot about that, not looking forward to get fat shamed in this country, let alone by a school staff. “oh right! it almost slipped my mind that here you wear uniforms in high school! hehe thank you for the reminder!”

“no problem! Bye bye”

oof! I was getting tired of pretending to be polite to that case worker. The past 3 months has been tough with the whole being sent away from my family and finding a school with nearby housing. At least I can sleep well without thinking where I’ll end up next. I unpack my 3 suitcases of clothes, personal belongings, cosmetics and other nessities. I take out my framed photo of my family and place it on my bed stand, I miss them and the doggos. I try not to cry and continue to put my things away. I made myself dinner, took a bath and laid in bed; and I’m thinking if I should call my parents to tell them I got settled. I checked the time, it was 4am their time, I sent a text instead.

[Hola mama y papa! ya estoy en mi apartamento, es muy lindo. Llama me cuando puedas, te extrano mucho y tambien a los doggos!]

I haven’t talked to my parents in a week because of the whole phone arrangement and being too busy with the entrance exam. Now I guess I’ll sleep and do some school supply shopping after meeting with the staff member.

-the next day-

Its saturday and its gloomy out and I wake up thinking, great! even the sky knows its going to be a rough day today! I get dressed, eat and gluzzle down my daily 2 cups of coffee. I scroll through my private social media handles to check on my friends, looks like they’re having fun, without me. I suck in the tears because I know DAMN well they’re sad I’m gone too. I distract myself with memes and I think maybe I should make some tea? and some cookies too? do i even have tea? I go through the cupboads and pantry, the case worker wasn’t kidding when they said that I had groceries that’ll last a while! I had 2 different types of tea, dry pastas, canned goods, snacks and some traditional ingredients for japanese and mexican cusine. I go searching for a kettle or teapot and I find a juicer in the way back of the top cupboard. There was a note on the juicer that said ‘to the next tenant, my wife didn’t want to take this big, messy thing to our next place, hope you find use out of this!’ I laugh at the idea that there was probably a lovers quarral over the juicer. I make tea and some green juice, just so I can get rid of the bundle of kale in the fridge, I hate kale. I make some cookies too but its just so I can get my mind off things since I was so nervous on meeting this staff member. Right on the dot, at 3pm, theres a knock at my door. I look through the peep hole and I see this woman with blue eyes and dark purple-ish, black hair in busniess causal attire. I open the door and put on my best ‘everything is ok’ face.

“hello! are you Miss Palma?”

“yes I am! are you the UA staff member with the uniforms?”

“I am! its so nice to meet you, I am Kayama sensei or better know as Midnight”

“Midnight? Ok um, would you like to come inside?”

“oh yes, thank you! Now I understand that you live alone?” she said as she walked in to the apartment.

“yes thats correct, I got here yesterday and settled in”

“oh wow, and at such a young age! Well If you need anything or need to talk about anything thats bothering you, please let me know! This whole you being separated from family and home worries me” She said in the most sincer tone that I almost started crying. I haven’t heard single person talk to me so genuinely since I left America and I need a trusted adult to help me, I heavily considered her offer.

“oh thank you for your offer, I might need some help in a few weeks BUT for now, may I offer you some tea? coffee? green juice? maybe some cookies?”

“green? juice? whats in it? I’ve never heard of green juice before”

“oh right! its a California health culture thing. Its the juice of pinapple, apple, kale, lemon and cucumber. The combination of the fruits and vegetables is for a healthy disgestive system and energy for before or after exersize”

“that sounds tasty! Ill have green juice please”

I serve her the juice and sit across from her in the living room. I see the clothing bags and think that thats alot of clothing bags just to give me 3 sets of uniforms. She drinks the juice and wanted to say something about my expression when I saw the bags but her eyes widened and she looked at the cup of juice.

“OH MY GOODNESS! this is the best and freshest juice I’ve ever had NO JOKE! You said this is a thing where you’re from? I need to invest in a juicer to make this at home!” she said so shocked and I was surprised to recieve the praise like I invented the juice.

“I’m glad you like it! Its like a little slice of my hometown to me to you”

“oh? ok back to business! I see you eyeing the uniforms, you want to try them on? I brought some sizes up and down from the given mesurements.”

“um ok sure! Let me take these to try on in my room, ill be right out”

I take the bags to my room and I zip them open and I see the white collared shirts, gray blazer looking thing and skirts. I think oh jeez my ass is definately not gonna fit in these bitches. I put on the shirt and blazer that best fit and lastly the skirt, SUPRIZE! you can see my ass cheeks hanging out from the bottom. I walk out of the room to Midnight.

“ok so I found a shirt and top that fits well on me BUT the skirt...” and I turn around and show her my exposed ass cheeks peeking underneath.

“oh dear, thats definately not in regulation! Ok so you need a longer skirt? like... another 6 inches?” she said as she takes out a measuring tape from her purse.

“um yea, if thats doable”

“it is but we won’t have that ready until the 1st day of classes, so I guess for now, try on the pants and see if any of those fit”

Great. I’m going into a new school, misgendered and foreign passing. 2 of the pants in the clothes bag fit well....too well. We said our good byes and I had at least 2 sets of uniforms ready until I get a proper pair. No matter, at least my ass won’t be hanging out at school. I go school supply shopping and came upon the holy grail of stationary, SCENTED PAPER AND GLITTER PENS. Of course in the pastel rainbow colors and matching lead pencils. I get a whole matching set along with a backpack, water bottle and coffee tumbler. I was going to soon regret that matching set (more on that later) but I was just SO happy that I was pink, pretty and sparkly.

-Fast forward to the 1st day-

I was in a much better mood because the sun was out, the coffee smelled particularly good, I made myself look cute but toned down for a good 1st day impression. I grab my keys and think I think I’m forgeting one detail? What could it be? and I thought Oh! I need to text my parents that I’m happy and I’m going to school now! I am noticably happy that the nice front desk lady of my housing noticed and wished me luck on my 1st day. I get in my car and I have 1 hour to get to school but its only a 8 minute drive and I wanted to circle to find parking and see where the entrance is so I can teleport from wherever I parked. I pass the gates before seeing the parking and I think oh cool its just right there! but Ill still teleport in the front. I park and I don’t even get out of my car, I just hug my backpack and teleport in front of the gates. I start walking toward the gates and try to not smile like an idiot but I start to notice all the looks and stares. And I think oh they just don’t recongize me because I look foreign or didn’t see me at the entrance exams. As a enter the 1st year doors I hear

‘yo you see that guy? he looks as pretty as a girl! Guess his favorite color is baby pink? Are they wearing eyeliner? I wonder how long is his hair? That bun is tastful, no homo tho!’

I FORGOT THAT PANTS ARE THE BOY’S UNIFORM AND MY SKIRTS ARE STILL BEING TAILORED! I socially already fucked up, guess I won’t be making friends anytime soon. But I guess I’m glad they think I’m a pretty girl in the boy’s uniform? I walk up to the table at the furthest hall on the right that says International Student Check In thats me. I get greeted by a man with a boombox looking thing on their neck, black pants and jacket, small triangle sunnies and yellow hair.

“HEEYYY welcome to UA!”

“oh thank you! I am Itati Palma, American student”

“okay lets see, palma palma paruma AH found you! OH YOURE THAT JAZZY SAX GIRL THAT TURNED HERO!”

oh jeez who put that on my record?! “hehehe yea thats me”

“coolio jazzy girl! Heres your schedule, pins and a note from Midnight”

“pins?”

“yeeeaahh! pins to put on your uniform to let other students and staff where youre from and get to know you better!”

I open the small manila pouch into my hand and two pins fall into my palm, the American and Mexican flag. I look at them and tried not to cry, I missed my home and chill life in Cali.

“hey hey! your classes are on the 3 hall on the right, door all the way down.”

“oh right!” that snapped me out of my sentiment, “thank you again! Mr?”

“they call me Mic sensei”

“Mic? ok thanks!”

I walk quickly to my classroom, I get to the outside of the door and think welp, heres to 3 years of being called pretty boy and other dumb shit. I open the door and I see 9 desks and 5 people already there. Oh jeez, what a small class size but at least nobody is staring at me. I sit in the middle seat, though I prefer the front desk but they were already claimed! Guess classroom culture is different here too. In front of me was a boy to what I thought was a Japanese native until they turned and I caught a glimpse of their pin, they’re Korean! They noticed my pins too and had a confused look as they gave me a once over.

“You’re an...american? and mexican? You traveled quite a ways”

“um yeah hehe, I am Itati Palma by the way!”

“hmm, nice to meet you Palma-san, I’m Jin Matsui”

“nice to meet you too!”

Before I could ask them where in Korea are they from, the door slammed open. A tall and muscular white-blonde girl walked in, I tried so hard not to stare at them but they looked so tough and wondered if that’s part of their quirk. She sat behind me and Jin and I turned around to get a better look at them. I saw their pins, the Russian and Japanese flag, shes also a foreign student. She looked up with a death stare at me and Jin but then her eyes widened and she smiled.

“ah! fellow foreigners! Hello!” she spoke in a predominate Russian accent that matches so well with her image.

“um yeah! Hello, I’m Itati Palma”

“Hi, and I’m Jin Matsui”

“Palma-san and Matsui-san?Milana Mikhalia Oleshin, very nice to meet you!”

Oh my! A long and hard to pronounce name, I guess we aren’t at nickname or first name basis yet for everything to go smoother. I turn to my bag because I got a text, its my parents!

[Hola mija! Que bien que estas feliz hoy! Te amo y ponde bien en tus studias, dios te bendiga.]

Oh mom, you have no idea how bad I had it earlier. I look around and see everyone has nice, canvas school bags and I have my baby pink one with a puppy on it. And everyone had normal stationary and you can smell and see mine from across the hall. Oof, what I’d give to redo today. I look at my schedule and see that I have a short school day this semester.

Palma, Itati (F) (International) Intelligence Core Program [1-A]

Homeroom......9a-10am..........................................Intelligence Wing, room 1-A

Weaponery.......10:15am-11:50am.........................................Gym

Hero Course [Ethics and Laws].....12p-1:15p...........Hero Wing, room 1-A

Free Period.........2:50p-3:30p.......................................TBA

Intelligence Course[Statistics&Strategy]3:45p-4:40p..Intelligence Wing,room 3-A

Seems like a reasonable schedule, better than America. I didn’t know that Oleshin-san was peeking over my shoulder to read my schedule.

“YOURE THE GIRL THAT TESTED OUT OF GENERAL STUDIES?!”

I jumped in my seat “um yea?”

“I heard about you! The staff and school district are boasting that they got the potentially genius level international students. They said that theres 2 of them here at UA and they are jumping straight into course work! One has placed college level English and 3rd year Level Strategtic Thinking! And thats you!”

Jin turns around, looking bootytickled “erm, what? Let me see your schedule.”

He scans and compares it to his “well theres proof that you are one of those students, but then again, so am I”

I take a look at his, almost identical except they’re not taking the hero course, but second year english. What a weird turn of events that I’d be in the same class as other international students in the same school arrangments? I guess they’re my friends now.

A clean cut man in a blue jumpsuit with multiple patches on the arms opens the door. I just knew they were our teacher, it shows that he’s been through it all and has wisdom to bestow upon us.

“Hello, good morning students, if you could all take your seats so I can get things started”

Everyone fell into place and was attentive.

“Welcome to the Intelligence Program, You can call me Diya sensei, I’m a retired secret service of Japan better known as Agent 99 code name ‘Space Cowboy’”

I tried so hard not to laugh at that code name, I wondered why he was called that. Maybe his quirk?

“Now to take roll, say present when I say your name”

He finished roll and said “huh, 3 international students? I expect impeccable work from you three. I won’t slow down for you”

I somehow wasn’t scared of that statement. Before moving on to explaining the coursework and lessons, a lizard bolted from the window and to Diya sensei. He let out one of the most high pitched yelps and retreated to the corner. How can a man so sharp and decorated, be reduced to a crying mess over a lizard? Matsui-san captures the fast lizard and wraps it in his gym towel to take outside after homeroom. Sensei regains his composure and continues class like nothing happened. After homeroom, we all had weaponery but we didn’t get to use any gear or weapons yet. Instead we got measured for our jumpsuits and PE clothes plus got settled in the locker rooms. To my surprise it was co-ed locker rooms since it was a small class size and only 3 girls. Everyone was respectful of eachother’s bodies and privacy. Next I was supposed to go to the ethics class but in Midnight’s note, she said that I start that class on Wednesday so for the time being, I have to report to the staff room to meet with them. I go to the staff room and on the way I see a class doing drills with quirks outside, it looked fun and everyone looked so focused. I get to the staff room and Midnight hands me my tailored skirts and 3rd set of uniform. I also got to know the other teachers and staff including the principal, a big ass fuckin rat. I was about to punt that bitch when they opened the door if they didn’t start talking. Other than that, it was a nice time and then there was lunch. I walked in the cafeteria and saw the long ass lines and said ‘fuck that’, so I teleported to my car and ate my packed food in there. Next was my free period, Midnight said that it was alright for me to wander around campus so I can get to know the place better so I can teleport from class to class. I wander around without my bag, just my phone and schedule with school map folded in my pocket. I go to the hero wing to find the 1-A room, nobody was in there, maybe its gym time for them? I pass by a group of 3 upper classmen, A boy with black hair and pointy ears, a taller boy with lemon colored hair and a girl with long sky blue hair. They all looked at me as I passed by and I felt intimidated because they have a strong presence to them but I didn’t know why or how. I hid behind the corner and heard them talking about me,

“did you see that? I made accidental eye contact and I think I’m going to be sick”

“hmm, do you think thats the international student Mirio? They had an american flag pin”

“Maybe? Theres no description of them other than they’re American and a 1st year in the Intelligence program”

“wait, sceret service? I thought they saved their school from a gang by disabling the leader? Why are we interested in her again Mirio?”

“She’s a true hero Amajiki! We could learn alot from her and maybe change their mind to be a hero, like they were meant to be”

What the heck was that Lemon boy going off about? A hero? Change my mind? Learn from me? I turned the corner to tell them off but they were gone and I wasn’t about to go looking for them. I wander some more and the bell rings and a swarm of students come out of their classrooms, I couldn’t naviagate around and I think, guess Ill teleport, BUT THEN I COULDN’T! Like when I was acting up back home and my mom would use her erasure quirk on me to prevent me from escaping. But my mom couldn’t be here!? Then what the fuck is going on? Then a man’s voice from behind me spoke,

“are you lost young lady?”

I turn around and I’m shaking in fear before I even see this mystery man. I see him and he’s a tall, dark long haired with eye bags. I knew right away he was the one who erased my quirk, his eyes glowed the same way my mom did when she activated her quirk. Mom i thought and how much I missed her and I couldn’t hold back my tears this time. I cried in front of this man I just met. He arched his brow then gazed his eyes on my flag pins. He gasped and deactivated his quirk.

“oh no I’m sorry Miss! I didn’t mean to scare you to tears, are you alright?”

I stammered “um uhhhh -sniff- I’m, I’m ok! um I’ll just leave”

“no please, let me escort you to your next class, I feel terrible for making you cry. Especially on the 1st day”

I felt sort of better when he offered, I let him walk with me.

“you didn’t scare me, I cried because you and my mother have the same quirk and looking at your glowing eyes reminded me of her and how much I miss her”

“oh! same quirk you say? Were you a trouble maker?”

“nah, I would try to teleport away when it was time to do housework when I was younger and she’d disable my quirks so I couldn’t escape and HAD to do chores”

He laughed “what a woman! Say, your not from around here huh?”

“nope, I’m from America with hispanic roots”

“OH! you’re an ethnic American! That’s why you have two flags.”

“yup, I got here about a week ago and settled about 3 days ago”

“yeah, Midnight told me about you. You’re a very unique indivdual, how are your classes so far?”

“nothing interesting yet”

“well hopefully things pickup soon, oh i think this is your wing”

“um oh yea it is, thank you for walking me over, Mr?”

“Mr Aizawa, or better known as Eraserhead”

“Eraserhead? um ok thanks again!”

“no problem, see you wednesday”

“wednesday?”

“yea, I’m the Hero Course ethics teacher. See you then!”

Then this man deadass walks away after dropping that bomb on me? What a legend, can’t wait to sit in his class. My last class was more up my alley and the upperclassmen were so nice that I didn’t feel any different from them. I walked to my car to reflect on all the shit that happened today and what I am going to do to make school bearable. The drive to my place was pleasant but I saw a bunch of students walking together like they just became friends and wanted to spend more time together. I felt a little lonely when I got home, I remembered when I was in america and I would talk to my friends after school and how they’d wait for me after band practice to hang out. I took off my uniform and hanged up my new ones and had one really good cry. I haven’t cried that hard in months and it was much needed for my mental health. I washed up and ate and tried to just forget all the dumb shit of the day when I laid down to sleep.

-fast foward to Wednesday-

“hey Palma-san! did you do the online homework for stats and strats?”

“yee, did you?” I said knowing damn well what Matsui-san was going to say.

“psh! course I did, I was just making sure you did it so you might have something to do during free period”

“HEY! T-posing through the halls IS a viable thing to do! I was studying where everthing is on campus for future use”

“IS NOT WHEN YOU LEVITATE AND SCREECH IN THE BOYS BATHROOM WHILE I’M IN THERE!”

Before I could retort back, Oleshin-san butted in,

“aye Palma-san, you excited for your hero course class?”

“oof yee, the teacher is kinda hot”

“I SAW and I’m jealous! You have to tell me if the boys in that class are hot too!”

“ugh, don’t you two have better things to talk about than butts and boys?”

“I’m so excited tho! To meet anybody thats outside our program and learning new things?! I just hope they like me, I even made them cookies”

“Palma-san nani the heck!? I want a cookie”

“You guys can get a cookie during lunch if theres any leftovers”

I quickly change after weapons class and bolt to the hero wing. I walk down the hall and I’m really feeling nervous! I look at my coffee tumbler and felt calmer as I took a sip. Ok Ita, you can do this, no chickening out now I psych myself up as I stand in front of the door. I open the door, expecting everyone to be strewn about and talking...nope. I walk in and everyone is in their seats and sensei was standing up in the front and I disrupted them. Everyone was staring and I instantly get flushed and I check to make sure I was in the right classroom and said,

“did I fuck up?”

“no actually I was just talking about you, perfect timing!” said Aizawa with a smile. “why don’t you come up and introduce yourself?”

“um ok” I said as I scanned the room. I got up to the front, chugged down my coffee for dominance, did a quick spin for drama and put on my ‘I swear I slept a normal amount of sleep last night’ face.

“Hi hello~ My name is Itati Palma and I’m from America! The reason I don’t look like one is because my ethnic background is hispanic, or in other words, both of my parents are from Mexico but I was born in America. My quirk isn’t the strongest or the most useful BUT I can be of better help in other parts of combat, so please, we don’t have to be friends but lets all work hard together” I bow respectfully and turn to sensei.

“nice speech kid, you can take the seat on the third row”

“um ok thanks”

As I’m walking toward my seat, sensei walks out saying he’ll be right back with more handouts. I sit and I feel all eyes on me, giving me the once over. The person in front of me has a bird head but normal human body from the neck down, the person behind me has half their face covered with multiple limbs and the person on my left has red spiky hair and was staring REALLY hard at me. I almost didn’t want to look at them until sensei came back, I just sat there blushing really hard.

“Kirishima! stop staring at her! Can’t you see you’re making her uncomfortable?!” said the boy with glasses making chopping motions.

“Oh sorry! Its just that I’ve never seen curly hair of that type in person, you have really nice hair and your backpack is cute”

“um thank you, I feel sorta out of place with it tho, everyone else has normal bags”

“tch, makes you look like a little girl” muttered the boy with the blonde hair.

“Kacchan thats so rude! I think their choice of bag is cute and different in a good way” said some broccoil looking ass.

“well um, not to change the subject, but I made you guys cookies! I got up extra early to bake them”

“Cookies?! oh how sweet of you!” joked the pink girl.

“Oh here, let me help you with that” said the boy with glasses as he stood up.

“oh no I got this” I take out a package of colorful napkins and the box of cookies and I toss the napkins up and activate my quirk to pass out the napkins. Then I opened the box and gave everyone a cookie and gave sensei 3.

“so cool! you passed out the treat without getting up!” squealed what I assume to be the invisible girl.

“THESE COOKIES ARE SOOO YUMMY TOO!” proclaimed the boy with a black streak in their yellow hair.

Everyone was in a better mood and I got compliments for my cookies, I was in my happy place. After class, as I was packing my bag, the boy with the glasses came up to my desk

“thank you for the cookie, Palma-san, you really know how to bring a crowd together”

“oh thank you, uhhhhh”

“hm? OH my name is Tenya Iida, sorry I forgot to introduce myself earlier”

“Iida-san? oh its alright, its nice to meet you”

“I haven’t seen you around halls, sensei tells us your in a different program? Is it true?”

“Yes its true, also the school is kinda big and I can be easy to miss in a crowd because I’m so short”

“I see, well its lunch time! May I walk you to the lunch room?”

“oh thank you but I usually eat in the parking lot” I soon regreted my words because this square faced, glasses wearing ass gasped and grabbed me by the wrist followed by dragging me down the hall.

“You’ve been by yourself during such social time?! Now I have a better reason to bring you to the lunch group!”

“eating by yourself isn’t a huge deal” I say but looking back, thats all I’ve been doing.

“A true hero never lets a fellow classmate eat alone!”

I get aggitated and retort “well what if they want to be alone!” as I teleport out of his grip and 3 feet behind him. He sees the whole thing and stopped on the dime, he was shocked.

“you, you used your quirk to escape my grip? What is your quirk exactly?”

“Heck, um its Mid-range Telekinesis, I can levitate, levitate others and objects and teleport about 2 miles at a time.”

“thats incredible power! what do you mean your quirk isn’t strong or useful?! You’re gifted in so many ways!”

I wasn’t having fun anymore, he wasn’t letting me talk or left me alone when I said I wanted to.

“please stop”

“hmm? stop what”

“stop, talking about my quirk like I’m some sort of show horse”

“Show horse? no no no! I didn’t mean to-”

“STOP!” I didn’t want to hear it, I just wanted to hide. Tears were welling up in my eyes.

“what is going on here? Tenya, what are doing to that poor girl?” it was Midnight. “oh no, are you ok Itati?” and I start to cry when she made eye contact with me.

“its ok, you’re ok! please don’t feel sad” she comforted me as she held me, “why don’t you go to lunch Tenya, I’ll take care of things here”

“but I- I mean-”

“please, she’s been through too much already”

He walked away, looking back every few steps. Midnight escorted me to the staff room so I can calm down a bit and talk about what happened.

“You want to talk about it?” she asked me softly.

“yea, the school culture is too much for me”

“how so? Are you not making friends? Are the classes too hard?”

“its mostly the students outside of my program, they’re too into their hero agenda to be the best that they aren’t considering other’s personal feelings or perfernces”

I then tell her about the 3 upper classmen that talked about me and what Iida told me as they dragged me down the hall.

“oh I see now, it almost feels like you’re being targeted and pressured.”

“yeah, I want to learn about this hero culture more but this is too much at once. It’s strange because back home, I was so used to be part of the crowd and stand out when I wanted to. And here it feels like I breathe a little too loud and I’m suddenly getting looks”

“ok, I’m glad you aren’t giving up. But if they start getting physical and racist, please let any of the staff know.”

“alright, Thank you Midnight! I don’t know what I’d do without you”

I go about my day and tell Matsui and Oleshin what happened after school. They weren’t too keen about it,

“That glasses wearing asshole!”

“yea not good on a future hero if you tell me”

“We got your back Palma-san”

“YEAH! we international students have to stick together, its scary being alone”

“yea Matusi-san is right. If any of those hero asses try any of us, I’ll flex on them and toss them in the trash!” Oleshin-san said as she flexed her strong arms.

“And I can portal us to safety or anywhere really” Matsui-san said as he jumped.

“oh guys! I’m gonna cry again!” I said because I was so touched by their words.

“and I’ll T-pose, screech and rise on them. Maybe levitate them in the trash too”

We all laugh as we flex and T-pose together in the school parking lot. They walked me to my car. We were about to part ways to head home when I said

“hey, um you guys can call me Ita, if you want”

“Ita? then you can call me Jin”

“oh we doing short hand! then you can call me Mimi”

“Jin and Mimi huh? ok! see you guys tomorrow”

“bye!”

“until tomorrow”

As I drove home, I thought Holy shit I just made friends.

-End Chapter 1-

#bnha #mha #self insert au #chapter 1 #not canon #will update regularly #ask me anything

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creativenicocorner · 6 years

Text

Terpsichore cutting room floor

This is a scene that I’ll have to re-write and re-work in order to fit with the timeline I’ve created for the story.

It’s a shame, but some things can’t be helped. Like the fact champagne wasn’t invented until the 1600′s, and certain events and character interactions needing to happen before the 1400′s.

It was such a fun scene to write that I can’t just let it go without giving it some sort of small spotlight. Thus! Ah, here’s the scene!

We join Stricklander impersonating a troll, and giving himself the name Balaga, whom is a character within the folktales of Shigir. Needless to say, he has some fun with it:

“Call me Balaga” Stricklander pulled up in the cart in front of the trolls grinning, “It seems you folks need a ride.”

The trolls’s tearstained faces looked up, huddled together. Their village roaring in chaos and fire behind them.

“Ya think?!”

“Sssh! Silence Fruthkrum. It’s a miracle that a supply run was headed to our village at all.”

“Yes.” smiled the disguised Stricklander. “Fortuitous.” an explosion echoed in the distance. “Now up you get - hurry!”

“How can we ever repay you?” asked a hooded troll.

“Oh I don’t do this for currency.” Stricklander responded to all, eyes poignantly looking at the hooded troll.

“Then how about for champagne?” responded the hooded one.

“Yessir!” Stricklander extended his arm to help the troll up to sit next to him. Grinning all the while. “Hey ho yessir!”

“What’s champagne?” asked a young troll who popped her head between them.

The hooded one realized with a wince champagne wasn’t the right word for a troll specific mission.

“The stars!” Stricklander said dramatically. Happy the scheme was going on so well so far. Regardless of word-use, they had what they came for. “Le vin du diable!”

The hooded troll looked skywards for patience. “A bubbly sweet glug.” Then paused, momentarily forgetting the name of the troll counterpart for champagne used in Shigir stories. But the youngling seemed satisfied with the answer regardless. “Now, I’d hold on tight if I were you.”

“Is everyone on?” called back Stricklander prepping his whip.

“Pahgne!” the hooded one remembered at last, “Oof that was going to bug me.”

“We’re all on!” called a troll slapping the outside of the cart.

“Yessir yessir yessir!” Stricklander swirled the whip over his head, and cracked it.

Sending the beasts of burden flying down the muddy path. The cart recoiling and jerking in such a way that those on board gave a unanimous startled groan.

The hooded troll beside Stricklander held onto his seat, and with great effort said nothing about the Pale Lady helping him hold his meals down.

This went on for sometime until Fruthkrum exclaimed, “Slow down you mad troll!”

Stricklander laughed with unrestrained glee. The loud groan of the hooded troll lost to another of Stricklander’s whip cracks, mouthing along as he responded joyfully, “No one tells Balaga to slowdown!!”

The whip cracked two more times, sending the cart to precariously pick up more speed.

More bushigals followed, though the youngling who asked about the champagne squealed with fear infused delight. She almost forgot her home was in the process of being destroyed.

“Shuri! Get. Down.”

The hooded one did a double take behind him. Looking at the youngling who held her claws in he air with joy.

“Ach! Listen to your mother!” he said pushing Shuri back.

The cart’s wheel hit a bump, risking to topple the cart.

“What are you doing?!” snapped the hooded one through his teeth.

“Playing my part.” cracked Stricklander, “We have to flee from the scary Gumm-Gumms.”

“With our lives, dummkopf”

“Go Balaga! Go!” squealed Shuri trying to slip away from her mother’s grip.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

Stricklander cracked the whip again, “Yessir! Hey ho yessir!”

Galloping at maddening speeds the village soon became a distant smokey glow.

Twenty minutes of soul searching, and making peace with gravity, and the void beyond, the hooded one leaned to the side.

“Listen ‘Balaga’, I don’t want to tell you how to drive, but you’ll run the beasts to the ground at this rate.” the disguised hooded Otto clapped a hand to his side to make sure he hadn’t lost what they came for between all the bumps and curves. “Last I checked, your cart isn’t pulled by magic star and yolk filled horses!”

Stricklander considered Otto’s words, when unfortunately his hawkish eyes widened. He spotted a few Gumm-Gumms that blocked the path way down the road.

The changeling cursed, “They were supposed to block the other side.”

“Maybe they’re lost.”

“You really believe that?”

“Look out!” cried a passenger from behind.

“Oh we’re doomed.” moaned a mother gathering her twins close.

For a good moment Stricklander thought of slowing down, letting the Gumm-Gumms take the run away passengers, and waltzing away with what they came for with no further trouble.

“What’s going to happen to us Balaga?” looked up Shuri innocently.

Stricklander shouldn’t have looked back. Shouldn’t have seen those fearful young wide eyes.

Stricklander cursed the heavens.

“Prep my crossbow we’re plowing through.”

“We’re WHAT?!” snapped the hooded Otto.

“Prep it.” Stricklander commanded with a snarl. “Aim for the eyes.”

“You’re mad.” muttered the disguised Otto reaching for the crossbow and arrows. “This is it. This is how the Green Knight takes us both.”

Stricklander flicked his clawed thumb against the whip’s grip, causing a spark akin to striking flint. With another crisp crack, and gush of wind, the whip was sent ablaze.

“Balaga always reaches his destination!” cried Stricklander.

The passenger trolls called upon the Trollhunter’s grace to survive this mad cart driver.

Shuri, face illuminated by ‘Balaga’s' cracking fire whip, wouldn’t stop smiling.

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Shigir the Changeling Folk Hero #Terpsichore #Terpsichore; or rather The Comedy of the Danse Macabre #Nico Writes #Walter Strickler #Stricklander #Strickler #Otto #Otto Scaarbach #The character Balaga is inspired by the song and character 'Balaga' from Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 #Ch9 #Or should I call it Ch NEIN

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merigreenleaf · 6 years

Text

AU Tuesday - “Stuck With You” Part 11 (The End)

(A few weeks late with this, but here’s the very last chapter of the Soulmate AU! For AU Tuesday I’ve been writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt: “A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do.” The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. These can really be read in any order because each part pretty much stands on its own. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10)

——————————

The door burst open and slammed against the wall with enough force to rock the wagon. Adair’s heart and hand jumped, causing his pencil to leave a dark line across his sketchbook. He erased and erased, but the deep gouge remained on the paper after the graphite had gone. If only the correction paint he’d tried to make had worked the way he’d wanted it to! Instead of returning a page or canvas to new, it only turned them invisible, which was even worse than permanent indentations on the page. At least he could draw over a line. He still had no idea where the invisible sketchbook had ended up.

It turned out that the line didn’t matter anyway. Blythe had crossed the room to give Sol a talking down- or possibly a talking up since Sol towered over everyone except his brother- for being reckless about opening the door. Adair sighed and closed his book. Blythe had been the perfect stationary model while she was inventorying seeds, but going into tirade-mode meant she wouldn't return to this until she cooled down. If past experiences were anything to go by, he had about twenty minutes before he'd be able to sketch her again.

Unless he could speed things up by taking away the source of her annoyance? He waved at Sol to get his attention, then winked to tell him that he had a plan. It was hit or miss if Sol would catch on to what a wink meant, but it was worth a try. “Hey, Blade? Sol's just excited because he found my paint. Let him go this time, okay?”

This was a stab in the dark, or at least a stab in a mildly dimmed room. Adair's yellow paint had gone missing from his bag this morning and he was pretty sure it was because his best friend had borrowed it. If any warm color went missing, it was usually in one of Sol's pockets. Sol always intended to return things, so Adair could never be too upset about this. Unfortunately Sol's intentions only lasted a few minutes before he forgot about them.

“I do? Oh! I do have it!” Sol poked through a dozen pockets of his vest before he found the jar and held it up triumphantly. “See, it's just like Addy said. I'm giving him back his paint. Just here for that. Yep, just returning my buddy's paint. That's definitely why I'm here. Giving him back his paint.”

Adair covered his eyes with his hand. At least Sol understood the winking thing now, but his acting really needed work. Etri laughed softly from his spot on the floor next to Adair and leaned over to whisper, “Subtlety will be forever lost on Solei. Watch.”

Blythe muttered an unamused grumble and began checking the wall for damage while Sol stepped past her and headed towards where Etri and Adair sat. Etri nodded once at Adair, then waved his arm in a wide gesture as he said to Sol, “Make the house for yourself.”

A big, toothy grin meant Sol misunderstood his brother’s scrambled idiom. “You want me to build a house? You’ve never let me build a house before! I can do that! I just need some nails and my favorite hammer and some wood and a couple of grapefruits and oh, some paint! Addy, do you have more-”

To Adair's relief over the state of his diminishing paint collection, Blythe closed the door and stopped Sol mid-sentence by talking over him. “I think Etch is inviting you to make yourself at home.”

“Oh! Okay, sure!” Sol missed the sarcasm in her voice just as he’d missed it in Etri’s and he hoisted himself into Dray’s loft bed. There he flopped onto his back with a comfortable sigh.

Now that Sol was safely in a spot that couldn't possibly make any more distracting noises, Adair opened his sketchbook. With Blythe pacing the wagon and muttering to herself, he would just have to switch to drawing Etri. A tornado could touch down next to the wagon and Etri still wouldn't put that book down. If there was one thing Etri was good at, it was being stationary. And if Adair managed to finish this sketch, then Etri would become stationary stationary.

Adair had barely touched the pencil to the paper when Blythe came over and nudged him with her knee, somehow managing to block all of the light coming through the window behind her at the same time his pencil scratched another errant mark. “Do you hear that?”

Adair tucked the pencil behind his ear and gave up for the second time. He should have Sol make him a little ball of light to hover over his head like Sol always had bobbing in the air while he worked on his inventions. Then it wouldn’t matter where Blythe stood or how close he was to the window. He didn't want to ask Sol about the sketchbook line problem, though, because Sol would likely try building a box around him to keep people out. Granted that would solve the problem, but not in the way anyone wanted, which was how most of Sol's ideas played out, now that he thought about it. “Hear what?”

“The hissing, yes?” Etri asked without looking up from his book. From the way he squinted, he could probably use the extra light, too. All the more reason not to put Adair inside a box.

Adair had assumed someone was making tea. Focusing on the sound, though, it wasn’t the familiar kettle and no one had been near the stove.

Blythe walked back and forth across the room as she tried to pinpoint the sound that seemed to be coming from somewhere to the right. “Sol, you didn’t bring a snake in here, did you?”

“No, that is not… I know that sound.” Etri dropped the book into Adair’s lap and jumped to his feet.

The act of being careless about a book worried Adair more than Blythe's pacing. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a snake and he couldn't have been right about the tornado. He wasn’t prone to premonitions. Truth be told, he wasn’t very good at postmonitions either because he never seemed to notice things until long after everyone else did.

Etri took a few steps forward and raised his arms as if grabbing something from the air. “It is-”

A thunderous boom shook the wagon and a storm of feathers and Sol filled the air. While the feathers drifted down like lightly falling snow, Sol went soaring from the bunk and landed heavily with an “oof” on Adair’s makeshift bed.

Blythe knelt next to him and touched his shoulder. “You okay?”

Sol’s voice was muffled by the blanket, but Adair was pretty sure he said, “Note to self: build Addy a futon because that coulda been a bouncier landing.”

Adair wasn’t sure what a futon was, but the last thing he and his fear of heights wanted was something bouncy for a bed. Knowing Sol he’d get overly enthusiastic about it and make it half-trampoline. Adair shuddered at the thought. He’d stick with his mattress on the floor, thank you.

Sol pushed himself up only to be gently pushed back down so Blythe could check him over. “That was fun! Can I do that again? Please please please, Blade?”

“No way. What is it with people setting bedding on fire around here?”

Sol made a face as she helped him sit up. His clothes were a little singed and his goggles sat askew on his forehead, but this wasn't anything out of the ordinary. “I didn’t do that. I mean, I guess I did do that because I was up there, but I didn’t do that do that. I’m pretty sure my bed’s never thrown me out before. Is Dray’s haunted?”

Blythe ignored that question and glanced over at Adair. He held his hands up, pencil in one hand and Etri’s book in the other. “I was sitting right here and you know I don't go up there.”

Etri caught their attention with a slight clearing of his throat and nodded towards the doorway. “No, this was the disaster of someone else.”

Dray shot a glare in his direction and came inside to put one of their red sequined prop bags in the cabinet under what was once their bed. “Technically it wasn’t on fire this time.”

Blythe snorted an unbelieving laugh. “Of course it wasn’t on fire. You completely blew it up!”

“I did no such thing. Heat-boy over there shouldn’t have been in my bed.” Dray tossed their hair over their shoulder and picked up the book that had fallen out of the bed along with Sol. Miraculously it was still in one piece. Adair was more confused as to why Sol was in one piece, though. Was the man made of rubber?

“What kind of idiot keeps explosives in their mattress?” Blythe harangue Dray as she followed them to the door. “If Etch hadn’t been here to stop it, that would have taken out the wall and burned the place down.”

Dray made an ambiguous “hmph” sound and walked out. Blythe slammed the door behind them, exactly the thing she had told Sol a thousand times not to do, and threw her back against it. “I have the most moronic sibling on the planet.”

Dray’s explosive tendencies aside, there was something here that no one else seemed concerned about. Fire couldn't hurt Sol, but still... “Isn’t anyone worried that Sol could of been hurt?”

“Like he doesn’t regularly blow things up himself. He’s fine.” When Sol stood up, Blythe turned her head to the side. “His clothes, not so much. Anyone got a spare pair of pants for him?”

Sol turned in a circle to try to see his own behind. “I thought it felt drafty. Hey, I think I invented new pants! Perfect for warm weather because they’ve got built-in veneration!”

Blythe tied Adair’s blanket around Sol’s waist with an expert knot. This was far from the first time one of them had to throw together makeshift legwear for him. “Ventilation, sweetie. And I don’t think those pants would fly.”

It came as a pleasant surprise when Etri sat close to Adair and wrapped his arm around his waist. Etri had become far more physically affectionate ever since they'd both learned that they had each other's soul-marks and Adair didn't think he'd ever get tired of this.

Too busy reveling in this closeness, Adair missed the perfect opening Blythe had left. Etri beat him to the punch. “I believe the pants flew well on him a moment ago.”

Blythe groaned. “You’ve been around Addy too long. You’re picking up his case of chronic puns.”

Two things Adair loved above all else-- excepting food-- were making jokes and snuggling, so it was with extreme reluctance that he set his sketchbook and Etri’s book aside and stood up. The hurt expression on Etri's face made Adair reach down and run his fingers through his friend's hair. “I’ll be right back. I want to talk to Dray for a sec.”

Etri squeezed his hand for a long moment before letting go of it with a nod. To be honest, Adair wasn't sure how much longer “friend” would be the relevant term for Etri, but that wasn't the friend he was worried about right now.

Blythe stopped him with a hand on his shoulder before he could reach the door. He wasn't a hundred percent sure her touches were platonic, either, but she was harder to read with this than Etri. Adair fully expected her to ask why he wanted to talk to Dray and was gearing up to defend his plan when she said in a low voice, “Tell Dray I’m sorry. I know they’ve learned better than to set fires indoors and this was an accident. It’s just… one of us could have been hurt, you know? Even if Sol's immune, the rest of us aren't.”

Except they were. As a healer Blythe's body healed any injury almost immediately. Fire and heat couldn't hurt Etri any more than it could Sol and he was half intangible half the time anyway. Adair was the only one in the wagon at the time who could have been seriously hurt.

She was worried about him. Adair hugged her tightly to show her that he understood. Blythe wasn't the type to talk about mushy feelings, but when she gave him a quick hug back, he knew he'd guessed right. “It's okay. I'll tell Dray.”

He found Dray sitting on the little porch of the wagon with their legs tucked up under their skirt, ignoring Adair's cat as she batted at their long hair. Their book was opened but equally ignored as it dangled loosely from their hands. They didn’t look up when Adair closed the door and walked the few steps over. “Can I sit with you?”

Dray only shrugged. Adair took this to mean okay, and as he tried to get comfortable on the cold floor, Dray shifted around so that they were facing him. Their makeup was smudged under their right eye and Adair wanted to wipe this away for them. He knew how much Dray hating looking less than perfect and how meticulous they were about their clothes and makeup. Dray was iffy about touch, though, and Adair still hadn't worked up the courage to come close enough to do this. Dray was so skittish sometimes and the last thing Adair wanted to do was scare them off.

The stare was unnerving and too piercing, and Adair got the feeling that Dray had learned this from Blythe years ago, unless it was the other way around. After a long moment where Adair had started to fidget, Dray finally said something. “Well?”

Adair blinked. He’d expected a snide comment as Dray's first words to him after the feather explosion and then Blythe's explosion. “Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to complain at me, too? That’s what Blythe sent you out here for, isn’t it?”

Adair glanced at the door. He didn’t think anyone could hear a conversation through it, so Dray must not have heard her. On the positive side, that meant no one inside could hear what was said out here, which would probably make Dray feel more comfortable. “No. I just wanted to talk to you. Blade did tell me to tell you that she’s sorry for yelling. She was just afraid you could of hurt one of us.”

Dray clutched at their chest and let out a gasp. “Blythe? Apologize for something? Did I stumble into a parallel world and wasn’t aware?”

“No, same world. Unless parallel-Sol also has that habit of losing his pants all the time.”

“I would imagine a Sol in any reality would find excuses not to wear them.” Dray picked at their nails before adding, “Look, I’m sorry about the fireworks. That was a stupid place to store them even if Sol wasn’t going to steal my bed.”

“I was thinking about getting a lock for one of the cabinets to keep it Sol-and-cat-free. You could put things like fireworks in there if you want. That wasn’t why I wanted to talk to you, though.”

Dray raised an eyebrow and tilted their head to the side. When the cat grabbed at their hair again, Dray scooped her up and dropped her into Adair's lap. She wanted no part of this, probably because Adair had no fun things to pounce on, and sauntered away. “Really. Then what was the reason? You four don’t usually make a habit out of casual chats with me.”

That was exactly the thing Adair wanted to talk about and the reason he'd followed Dray out. After some mental waffling about how best to bring this up, he decided to get right to the point. “You’re not going to leave us, right? It’s just… sometimes when you walk out the door it’s like you’re going to keep walking. I don’t want you to leave.”

Dray’s eyebrow shot so high that Adair thought the gold piercing might get stuck in their hair. They opened their mouth to say something, only to immediately close it again. Finally in a small voice they asked, “You want me to stay?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’ve got soul-marks to the others, but even without that I don’t want you to go. I like having you with us.”

Dray was staring at their nails again. Adair had no idea how they managed to keep them so polished and sharp when they were constantly dancing with performance props. That staff alone would have broken Adair’s finger in under five minutes, let alone a nail. Without looking up, Dray said, “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

Adair nodded his head towards the door. “I bet if you asked any of them, they’d agree.”

Dray snorted a laugh that was so very much like Blythe's. If ever Adair had doubted how much time the two of them had spent together, this was the proof.

“I mean it! Blade cares about you a lot even if she’s not really all that good at showing affection. Sol looks at you like you're the most amazing thing he's ever seen and he keeps asking us if we think you’ll let him share an act with you. Etch… okay, he acts like he doesn’t like you, but I’ve seen the way his mouth quirks into a smile when you’re bickering and he thinks you’re not looking. Darned if I know why, but he likes arguing with you.”

Dray’s own lips twitched at that comment. “And you?”

“Well, I definitely don’t want to argue with you or anyone else.”

Dray rolled their eyes. “You know that isn’t what I meant.”

Adair grinned and draped his arm across Dray’s shoulders in a sort of small hug. This was the best way he could think of for answering that question and, considering the direction of the conversation, he hoped Dray wouldn't mind.

Dray went stiff for a second or two, then rested their head under Adair’s chin. Their body began to shake and Adair feared Dray was crying-- was the hug really that bad?-- until he realized they were chuckling. This was almost as unnerving because laughing wasn't something Dray did any more often than crying. “And to think that I was jealous of you.”

Adair gaped. What reason would anyone ever have to be jealous of a disaster like him? The only reason he’d ended up here with these carnies was because he’d been too dumb to keep his art from being stolen from under his nose. “What? Me? Why?”

Dray pulled away but wrapped their hand around Adair’s forearm. “Because you’ve known those dorky twins only as long as I have and Blythe much less, yet they all treat you like you’re one of them. I assumed since you were already in with them, that I couldn’t be, so there was no point in trying.”

Now Adair was even more confused. Dray's words didn't match the fact that they were still gently touching his arm. Was Dray upset at him or not?

Dray continued to talk, either not noticing that Adair had no idea what was going on or choosing to ignore that fact. “I wanted to pretend these didn’t matter, that I could go somewhere else. I left once and thought that I could do so again.”

Adair just stared. Somehow his plan to cheer Dray up had turned into … whatever this confession was. And he thought talking to Sol was baffling. “You can’t?”

Dray's hand dropped into Adair's and they used this to turn his arm over. “No. The five of us are all a part of this now. Don’t you see?”

A shifting rainbow covered Adair’s forearm where just minutes ago there had been a long black smudge: crimson flowed into brilliant yellow into forest green into chartreuse into deep indigo and back into crimson.

Adair looked up into Dray’s face, always wreathed by painted red whirls that matched their red lipstick and coat. He did see it now. The yellow was for Sol and his love of light and gold glitter, and his tendency to use up all of Adair's warm color paints. Green for Blythe and her beloved garden that overflowed the wagon and grew on the patio at Adair’s back even in winter. Blue was his own favorite, the color of the sky on a bright summer day and the color that made his heart happy. Indigo, the color of Etri's celestial tattoos and as dark as the ink and the night sky that he loved so much.

This was why his soul-marks were so unlike any he’d seen before meeting his friends. This was why the five of them all had their marks turn into perfect rainbows. The five of them were each other’s soulmates and that was why it felt so right to have them all here with him.

He and Dray were the last piece. Adair squeezed Dray’s hand and a sense of warm belonging filled his heart when Dray squeezed it back. “So you’re not going to leave us?”

Dray scrunched up their nose and stuck out their tongue, making Adair wonder if it meant Dray felt like they belonged, too. Acting silly had to mean that Dray felt comfortable, right? “Of course not. You asked for it and you’re stuck with me now, just like you’re stuck with Blythe’s constant nagging and Sol’s constant lack of clothes and Etri’s constant brooding.”

Adair wouldn't have it any other way. “Just do me a favor and don’t tell Sol that. He’ll think he has to glue us all together.”

————————–

(I’m kind of sad that this story is over because it’s been such a big project for three months. I’m still not sure how a soulmate AU turned into a main project, but it was fun! I think I learned a lot by writing and sharing a chapter each week [err... minus this delayed update] without really outlining in advance, and it was a blast writing from POVs that I don’t use very often. I’m looking forward to working on new short stories now, though! Hopefully ones that are actually short since this one clocked in at 22k words total lol. I’ve already started one about Blythe and Dray and I’ll continue to share stories about these characters fairly regularly, probably once or twice a month. A big thanks to everyone who stuck by me for this all-too-long “Stuck With You” AU journey! <3

Tagging my short story people, although since tags aren’t working I’m probably going to reblog this a few times. I’m proud of finishing something that ended up so many chapters, so I’m hoping people see this. :) As always, if you want to be taken off the list of people I tag when I share stories, let me know. If you want to be added to the list, also let me know. And please definitely do tag me when you share stories and excerpts and things, too! @ageekyreader @lynnafred @the-gay-hufflepuff @firewritten @joshuaorrizonte @writtenhastily @writerlydays @ava-burton-writing @josephmxa @megan-cutler @dragonscanbeplantstoo @alittle-writer @perringwrites @an-author-in-progress @aceduchessdragoness @madmooninc @thatwriternamedvolk @elliot-orion @wchwriter @lady-redshield-writes @shadow-maker @zachdoesawriting @blogherosix @reeseweston @bluemartlet @pen-for-sword @writer-on-time @ravenpuffwriter @forlornraven @siarven @ghostsmooches @worldbuildingwren @toboldlywrite @homesteadhorner @loopyhoopydrabbles @emptymanuscript @dreameronthewind )

#writing #writeblr #soulmate au #au tuesday #au story #short story #unexpected inspiration series #stuck with you story #UI POV: Adair #It's so strange to be done this story after working on it for so long!

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throwingideasatthewall · 3 years

Text

Clone Wars The Deserter

(Season 2 Episode 10)

Inter Sting-

Ha Ha-

No-

The Quote;

It is the quest for honor that makes one honorable

-No

-It’s

-you can dedicate yourself to a purpose

- but you have to do it well

-accountably

- For it to mean anything

“Quest”

Wanting

for

Account- able

Means

Nothing-

With-out

Action

Any-way

Oh, We’re abandoning the grievous arc?

Aw.

What.

Oh.

Jedi Council-

One idiot

Who let him board

And tried to take him on his own

In the outer Rim. .

Natural selection’s a bitch (Don’t eugenics)

Any.way A Trap

Of like a few guys

And Anakin just sitting around until he got shocked to almost death. .

“Fierce confrontation,”

Obi-Wan got his ass beat - unconditionally- - That person - Did some thing. - - -

Then they had to re treat

. .

Saluka Mi

‘Yes general Kenobi is doing some very serious thinking . . .

Clone troopers -

Yeah- again why is Rex getting dragged along?

Des-per -ate Target

Desperate?

He seemed fine?

And Obi-Wan got his ass kicked last episode

[Who’s trapped in a room with who?]

It’s not General Kenobi.. ..

Whelp-

Okay-

W-help- -

Okay, Right-

Planet-

Well there are plenty of resources around you-

Before they find us

Obi-Wan will insist I play a game of tag with him-

He- always runs- - Also, nice cloak?

It suits him..

Very noble..

Kenobi

Again that could be literally anyone..

Also time to hijack a ship - What is that not the plot we’re going with? - We

Need To

Hurry

“Escape pod,”

It’s-

A planet-?

There are no escape pods. [Besides the ones you arrived in-]. ]

Or just hijack one of their ships,

Tran-s- ports-

Wreckage-

Again-

Why is Rex-

Plot Im Por-t anc e-

Nice Sight-

Contact the Fleet

Good plan

Comms broke?

“Transmitter is destroyed..”

Fair...

Well time to find parts and make a new one. .

Escape Pod- Make it there. . .

Good plan

(Also, He looks like a vampire)

Just say’in

Find Trans- Por- Tat- Ion-

Fair - Okay,

Hot Things

Very well rounded environ- ment-

Cute

Less So

[And an adequate metaphor for the war coming home..] .

Right.

Int -imidating - Okay- Neat-

Okay,

That’s a Thing

(Or A Giant Skate Board Ramp:)

That’s Some-thing

Or- bit

Any-

Grievous

[A giant skateboard ramp but no]

Ship...

What?

...

Okay!

Er-

Power Low-

Well they haven’t re- charged since last morning,

Dude-

“Can’t go On,”

That one droid that just had to be more dramatic than everyone else

Good for Him,

Re-charged

Well you clearly aren’t solar powered and there’s no port to do that.

Again?

De-pleted

Dude he’s using that to carry your equipment,

Close Down for A Few Mom -ents

Dude

[yeah the way he put it was kind of as- inine; “You,” Instead Of A Logi cal- We only have ____hours of energy sir

But he must be doing pretty badly too,

Having some sentience, Bi- ologi cal -Com Pon- Ents-, And Robotic-

Also, so it’s a sleep cycle,

Neat, (Did not know that about the droid’s recharging process,”)

We saw the guards charge electrically. .

No-

Does that- just magically charge them?

Is it an emergency back up at a light saber?

(Because if so that’s kind of cool.”

No-

Thought-

- Pod-

Aight

“Yikes,”

Dooku’s going To Be Pissed.

Okay...

Right..

Team- Work... - ...

Okay...

A’ight

Aight.

Aight

And.. .

A’ight-

“Rex,”

“Contact Us,”. -

“En Gage,”

Dude- they’re supposed to engage a robot with several flame swords?

Have you seen - how useless their blasters are-

(Yoda at least said it don’t shoot at the obvious Jedi/ Sith- Force User-

Aigh- t

Surprisingly calm ... And.. Obedient?

Whelp-

“Rex is a smart man,”

Have we seen anything to indicate that?

Creative, destructive, impulsive, asinine

Explosive

All things that describe Rex

Wouldn’t exactly go with “smart,” . Does he just become a different person with Kenobi?

Also is that the only format they have for complementing people, ____, Is A Smart (adj ective) Man,?”

Used the same for Cody.

His Feet . . .

Now it’s a com- pliment- - (We’ve also seen nothing in this episode to indicate or provoke That Arc.. .)

(Like he just follow- ed orders?)

Not a wrong time for compliments (Al-most)

Just Weird.

There They Go

Voom

Gull- Ible?

Gone

Off

“ “

Ri-

Ok-ay

Here’s One - Un- conscious- - A-ight

I-n- spect

Aight-

O-k

R-i g-ht

Voom, r

Nice land-scape- R-ight-

Okay- -

Whelp, Feck!

Aight Crud-

-shot.

Whelp-

You- heard a gun shot and didn’t get down?

Whelp-

Ouch-

Tumble and Roll! (Tuck and roll!)

Shit

Protect The Cap-tain

Anakin’s captain (Like seriously who is Obi-Wan‘s captain? Cody is his commander?

What is the order here?)

Good for Him?

Shit

Comm an do- Droids-

Get Shit, Jobs -

Behind everyone else?

Hey shouldn’t someone be Comming in? —

Shit- Whelp - Got Him- - Co- mm- an- do

Droids-

Oh, yeah this unit does have a pen-chant against those guys

I guess Rex

(The droids finally did him in..). R.I.P. Heavy.

Whelp, No facial damage that we can see-

Might have a con -cussion-

Wait...

How does he have a hole in his suit?

Dude clearly aimed for the head..

Hold up...

Re-wind...

Oh no, it did somehow get him in the chest.

How?

Did that...

Any Way-

[Plot convenient bullets aside]

Shit..

That’s Not.. Good..

“Jesse,” Name (s)-

Aight, Whelp-

Could’ve used some tanks,

Whelp

Nice sunset though,

Hopefully not on Rex’s life, Though-

Ai-ght Tech, Have,

Righ. t-

Okay-

Guidance System-

The guard... has an odd haircut

Doesn’t look very military...

Unless we’re counting that one dude On the Centurion Guard, who ended up being a villain?

That looks like a normal haircut.. . .

Me-mory Logs-

Emerg-ency sen-sors

Escape pod

Mid air collision-

- A- Ight-

O- kay-

How-

“With What?”

Wait is there another plot line that I’m unaware of

...

Okay.

What?

Crash -ed?

Ironically, Cody’s being more inventive than ,Rex?

And Rex spent the time taking orders?

[Wtf Is this characterization,” ]

aight

I can put us within . .

Two or three clicks

Good.. ..

Alert the men

He said to the random the blonde guy-

Wait is that his captain?

That would make sense

[but eugenic]

,Okay,

Name,

Wait they have a medic? Or...

Armor...

Fair

Okay...

[Odd sound effect there]

Fair

Pick-

Hey, is no one going to call for help?

Like you were told to Com in?

[I know this isn’t as important as General grievous but I think it counts,]

You know the lead possibly dying,

Could get a medic some possible back up

Not to mention those droid had to come from somewhere.

“Cover,”

Oh it’s the animals’ making it

That make sense.

Wait a minute.

Do-mesticated

Or herbivores and friendly but we’ll go with this logic

(It also makes sense for Obi-Wan’s unit to jump this high for a conclusion, it’s in his char -acter

And see-

Oof

Sir,

Literally everyone is more inventive than Rex in this episode

[I think someone-

And I mean it’s pos-sible

Mixed up the chara cterization..

This is supposed to be the rule and order unit correct?

Farmer

[so we’re going to bug that fucker]

Like seriously, the leaps in logic here are astronomical?

Do you see rows of domesticated crop?

Do you see any sign of human co- habitation?

Where - is this coming from?

Really is Obi-wan’s unit]

Any way.. .

Let’s find his homestead

Not even “let’s see ‘if we can borrow some supplies’ “ Let’s feck up this guy’s house

Damn

Storm-

Trooper Don’t Fuck Ar -ound-

Aight-

How- Okay- Practic al

-what are -

Out Cold

Oh now there’s things. .

Would’ve been nice to see that.

. .

Whelp. .

Heck-

You Have-

A shotgun

You should run-

S’up

Okay

Pretty Di- rect-

Move Along-

Old clone man-

Easy-

Yeah they have blasters.

Still

She said you weren’t wanted..

Take off a helmet doesn’t change that

Move along

[Also yeah friends that come with several armed shotguns, a possible army following them, unwanted and uninvited

*Friend Ship

Bu- llets-

Don’t be friendly

Say the pitch

“Get out of your hair real quick,”

Yes, no, leave,

State Bus- I- ness-

Ain’t falling for any of your “friendly.” bullshit,

Captain

Doctor

We have a medic-

Good-

How?

Over night-

Dude that is a big fucking risk you’re asking her to take

[Narc Log]

Like you guys are open shots,

That dude can’t protect them selves

And, they clearly don’t want to be accountable

(Out here)

As the world burns...

I’m sorry Sir But the signs are pretty clear.

Mommy

Oh god,

She’s a Generation breaker, too?

Directly?

Whelp...

Also not how kids act..

They don’t have initiative ...

Can’t have emotion...

Hm,

Be-nches

Good-

Fine, Thanks,

Enab ling war,

What ever

Aight

Future healing tech,.

What,

What Happ- en -ed?

Seriously, shouldn’t be Shouldn’t there be someone on guard?

Left-

Seriously, is there armor out of plastic?

Like, how?

How?

Arm-

Shit-

Seriously,

do the other guys have to be here they’re kinda making it un- comfortable.

Nerve Damage-

Oh, yeah just left the whole

person up to examine an arm.

Under- Stood -

Who said that?

On with it-

How-

The bullet went through his chest -

We see a wound, On his lower back?

That’s not bruising from the fall?

A rock wouldn’t create that kind of Mark.

No Con- dition

-Heal

Time

Ok- ay-

Well, call up, Obi-Wan,

Get Rex to the medical ship that they keep talking about...

We’re Get -ting Un der- Way Kix

Damn It Self De- Str Uct Ive - Ba stard - If buddy wants to throw them -self over the cliff there’s nothing anyone - can do about it

(Except- Hope-)

...

That’s An Order

Wonder What- Kinda Order - Team Medic “Don’t”. “I can’t bring you back on that much death,”

Then again most civilizations would not be found it on a precipice

So How..

“ I am outrank everyone,”

Medic, pulling a fucking rank.

And he actually can do that

Considering dude he decided to fuck around and find out with Mother Life Dude is technically a kin To immediate accountability at any point

T-ypically to the medic who treated him-

So, Yeah, He can totally do that,

Okay,

Damn, It,

Also look at these idiots standing around

0 notes

snowdice · 4 years

Text

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 17]

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

I have homework due Friday and it’s long so let’s go.