#“which of these had happened to me on a fishing trip: I survived a plane crash I was arrested as a spy or I had malaria and almost died”

[caterpillarinacave]

River Monsters is such a great show

[ckret2]

Chapter 25 of human Bill is the Mystery Shack's prisoner and somehow befriended Mabel: in which Bill and Mabel make friendship bracelets. It's heartwarming. Bill is not, I repeat, not secretly up to anything nefarious.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the chapter, Bill is secretly up to something nefarious.

####

"I'll be back in exactly one hour," Ford said. "Be finished showering by then. You've got everything you need, as well as..." He looked disdainfully at a baggie of shampoo and conditioner sample bottles, "your gift from the Northwests."

Bill eyed the Northwests' little care package skeptically. Four entire separate products that were supposed to be used all in one shower. He was drowning in mammal-cleaning slimes. What a waste of his time. "You don't expect me to use allthis junk, do you?"

"Frankly, as long as you aren't bald and don't smell like gnome urine in an hour, I don't care what happens between now and then."

"You're the most merciful warden I've ever had, Stanford."

Ford wasn't sure if that was supposed to be sarcasm or an awkward glimpse into Bill's sordid history, so he just shut the bathroom door. "One hour."

"One hour!" Bill waited until he couldn't hear Ford's footsteps; and then he turned on the shower, fished a crushed cider can and eight candles out of his hoodie, and stood on the wooden crate by the window.

Over the last few days, he'd spent every spare private moment using toothpaste and toilet paper to polish the bottom of the can into a perfect, shining, concave mirror. Now, he held it up to the window with one of the candles, using the mirror to focus the sun into a point on the wick of the candle... and...

It took a couple minutes of agonizing patience, but finally the wick smoked and then ignited. Yes. Moving carefully so he wouldn't douse the flame, he used the burning candle to melt the bottoms of the other candles just enough to stick them to the floor, lit them in turn, and in the middle Bill quickly made a (frankly terrible) drawing of Kryptos by finger painting with a tube of toothpaste.

And then he knelt in front of the candle circle, and—quietly enough that the shower covered the sound—he started chanting.

Some humans called Bill a dream demon. It wasn't exactly wrong, even if calling him a dream demon was kind of like naming the entire human race "the mountain bikers."

Which was to say, if Bill was a "dream demon," then so were the rest of his people. The other surviving shapes could cast themselves like shadows onto the walls and floors of other dimensions, slip through the cracks in reality that were too thin to accommodate the depths of three-dimensional creatures, and wander through the higher dimensions' mindscapes.

It was just that it was only one of their many side hobbies rather than their main pursuit as a species—and not a particularly popular hobby, at that. Most shapes weren't into taking safaris through aliens' dreams.

Out of the shapes Bill still hung out with, Hectorgon wouldn't do it; he appreciated why Bill went on his psychic excursions for the everyone's benefit, but skulking in a higher plane's second dimension made Hectorgon feel voyeuristic—and he'd only gotten more uncomfortable with the idea since his three-dimensional makeover. Bill could wheedle a majority of Amorphous Shape into a sightseeing trip once a millennium or so, but they were just a passive tour group who would be lost without Bill as their tour guide. Kryptos alone had taken enough of an interest in alien mindscapes to make the leap from "occasional tourist" to "frequent traveler." He was the only one other than Bill who spent enough time on Earth to network with the locals; and he was the only one other than Bill who had bothered to set up a summoning ritual, in case an earthbound buddy wanted to ring him up for a party.

Kryptos's party line was going to be Bill's salvation.

Which was a shame, because Bill just knew Kryptos would be annoying about this for the next million years. He'd worry about finding a way to bully Krypt into not lording it over him after he was safely back home in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion.

But when Bill called, nothing happened.

That wasn't right. Nothing wasn't supposed to happen. Even if Krypt didn't pick up, Bill should feel the spell working. The sound of the shower should pause. The air should go still and cool. Everything should be gray.

Bill opened his eyes. Nothing was gray. He checked each candle to make sure they were all lit, checked his drawing to make sure it looked right—it wasn't exactly flattering, but the lines were straight and the angles were correct, and anyway it was recognizable enough to work for the summoning. He remembered the words, he knew he remembered the words.

Try again. He shut his eyes. "Rhombus sapphirinus. Fraternitas, caritas, veritas. Te invoco, te invito." And then, not because it was necessary but because he was getting mad, he tacked on, "Responde mihi, quadrum defututum! Culum tuum calcitrabo!"

Nothing. The world went on un-paused. Bill remained awake. He opened his eyes to the vibrant, colorful, tragically real world around him.

It didn't make sense. Even without his powers, he should be able to reach Kryptos. Any human could do this ritual, and Bill knew a whole lot more than any human. Either Kryptos was dead (unlikely; but without Bill there...), or something was blocking Bill. The block could be inside him—maybe the Axolotl was sealing off even this paltry little magic—or outside, some sort of shield blocking the mindscape. But whatever the source, the result was the same:

He couldn't get a call out. Nobody, not even his oldest friends, could hear him.

He stared at Kryptos's ugly mug for a long moment; then blew out the candles, hid them and the crushed can back in his hoodie, used toilet paper to wipe the toothpaste and wax off the floor, and got in the shower.

If he wanted to get out, he had to make new friends. He'd been making some good progress lately, particularly with Mabel. Perhaps it was time to test just how far her compassion could get him.

####

Prisma the Rainbow Fairy said, "Gee, Sunny Cat, I haven't seen you spending time with Teddy Tender lately. What happened?"

"He's a killjoy," Bill said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV. "He's a wet blanket."

A sunshine-yellow bipedal cat said, "Teddy's so sad today, and it's making me sad. I don't want to hang out with him when he's like this!"

"That's what I said," Bill said. Heckling the characters helped distract him from the urge to scratch the exposed skin on his arms until he scraped it off his bones. After showering, his hoodie had been confiscated for a round of emergency post-eye-bat-repellant laundry, and he was temporarily back in a reject gift shop t-shirt. He felt exposed.

Prisma said, "Sometimes when our friends are sad, all they need is another friend to give them a hug or tell them they care. It'll help them feel happier."

"I don't know," Sunny said. "When I feel sad, being around other people makes me feel worse."

"Everyone's a little different, Sunny. Why don't you offer to hold his hand and see if that makes him happier?"

"I guess I could try."

"Nah, it's too late for Teddy," Bill told the TV. With some glee, he added, "The most caring thing you could do is put him out of his misery."

Mabel, sitting up on the couch with three colors of embroidery floss tangled around her fingers, lightly kicked the back of Bill's head. He grinned wider. Mabel said, "Bill, I don't think you're taking this seriously."

"Was I supposed to?"

"It's a beautiful June day and I'm inside with you, so you could at least pretend to. I thought you were a good liar."

"I've never told a lie in my life," lied Bill. "But okay, fine. I've seen the error of my ruthless ways. Maybe there's hope for Teddy yet."

Mabel nodded, mollified. She set aside her current project and rummaged through her bag of embroidery floss. "Hey Bill, what's your favorite color?"

"Gold!"

"Why did I ask. What's your next favorite color?"

"Every color simultaneously superimposed over each other, instantly blinding you!"

Mabel tried to picture that. She imagined a rainbow that was also a laser that was also iridescent. Her mental image looked a lot like Prisma's combat magic. "You have such good taste."

"It takes good taste to recognize good taste!" Bill mentally reviewed the last couple minutes of conversation, saw an opportunity to bolster the "reforming monster" image he was trying to sell to Mabel, and added, "By the way—thanks for sticking around just to keep me entertained!" (See: he can say thank you unprompted.) "This sure isn't where I'd want to spend my afternoon," he laughed wryly, "but unlike me, you have a choice in the matter."

"Yeah," Mabel sighed. "It stinks. I wish you could go outside with me."

Bill quietly, smugly filed that statement away for later use.

Mabel pulled a couple fresh rolls of embroidery floss out of her bag and got to work with them. "We can't set off fireworks inside the shack. Or play with Soos's paintball guns."

Bill's smugness vanished, leaving behind only the hollow feeling of missing out on a lot of fun. Fireworks and paintball guns. Those were three of his favorite things: explosions, colors, and interpersonal violence.

Mabel went on, "And Candy's saved up three years of Magic Vision Poster calendars to wallpaper the inside of her closet. She read online that if you cross your eyes just right to make them all look 3D at the same time, you can hallucinate going inside them! We're gonna try it out tomorrow. That seems like something you'd like."

"What!" Bill groaned. "I've always wanted to see an autostereogram poster with two eyes! Now here I am, stuck in a stupid meat body, and I don't even get to enjoy the only thing binocular vision is good for?"

Mabel patted his shoulder.

"Back home I've got a chair with autostereogram detailing. I've never actually seen it work. And where is it when I've got two eyes?"

"I think they've got Magic Vision books in the kids' section at the library," Mabel said. "Do you want me to check one out for you?"

Bill glared at the TV, silently fuming. Then he muttered, "Yeah. I'd like that. Thanks."

The low-stakes drama on Color Critters was resolved when Sunny asked Teddy Tender if he wanted to maybe hug or hold hands until he felt less sad, and Teddy revealed he felt bad because he was lonely when he hadn't had a play date with a friend in a while. Sunny and Teddy went to the playground together, the gray swings and slide and seesaw blooming orange and yellow as they played. Crisis of the day concluded. Prisma watched proudly, before joining in the play herself. Bill was not jealous of their freedom to go to the playground.

As the credits rolled, Mabel said, "There! Give me your hand!"

Bill stuck his right arm straight out to his side. "Why—?"

Mabel wrapped something thin around his wrist, and there was a quick tug as she tied it off. "Bam! You just got friendshipped!"

"What?" Bill pulled back his wrist to examine Mabel's handiwork. It was a bracelet made out of embroidery floss knotted together into a flat band as wide as his thumb. "What is this?" Stupid question.

"A friendship bracelet!" (Of course it was a friendship bracelet; he was passingly familiar with the art form, he'd seen it centuries before they were called "friendship" bracelets.) "Make a wish."

He wished to get his body back.

"You've gotta wear the bracelet until it breaks, and then the wish'll come true."

And if he believed that, he'd already be chewing through the knot. "And, why am I getting this?"

"Because we're friends!"

"Oh." Well. Yes. Obviously.

He examined the bracelet more closely. The band formed a zig-zag pattern of black and metallic gold triangles; and Mabel had tied glass beads that looked like eyes over several of the gold triangles.

"I didn't have every color simultaneously, but I thought the black would make the gold pop." Mabel pointed at the triangles. "Look! It's you."

"I can see that." She'd used nazar beads for the eyes—a dot of black ringed in blue and white. A little eye-shaped lucky charm humans had been using to ward off the evil eye for millennia. Cute. He laughed, pointing at the beads. "So is this supposed to protect me from the evil eye, or am I the evil eye you're protecting everyone else from?"

Mabel was thirteen. Mabel hadn't put any deeper thought into it than these look like eyes. All the same, Mabel didn't hesitate before replying: "I'm turning your face into a protective charm! Now you've got to keep everyone safe!"

"Oh." And that, too, Bill quietly filed away.

"I expect you to take your new job seriously," Mabel said, pointing at him. "Don't let me down!"

"You give me a gift with my face on it and then tack on a bunch of extra terms and conditions. Very slick, kid." He admired the bracelet. It really was a pretty fine offering. He hadn't been gifted textiles in a while. "But all right! I've never gone back on a deal before," lied Bill.

Though it galled him to get something without a way to pay back the favor. It felt uneven. People don't want a god who grants miracles worth less than the tribute he'd been offered. He ran down his usual list of tricks—he couldn't snap his fingers and summon up a dream gift, he didn't have any useful info he could offer without prompting an interrogation session with his jailers, right now he couldn't even call somebody else to pull some strings on her behalf... His gaze drifted over to Mabel's bag of embroidery threads. He could see beads and a couple more friendship bracelets inside. "How many of these are you making?"

"A bunch! I'm giving one out to each new friend I make this summer."

That'd do. "Teach me."

"You what?"

"Teach me." He turned around to face the couch and pointed toward the bag. "You're making them anyway, right? Just show me as you go."

Mabel stared at him in disbelief. Was he serious? She thought he was serious.

A broad smile stretched across her face. "Okay!" She dug beneath her supplies for a little dog-eared friendship bracelet pattern book. "What kind of jewelry making experience do you have? Especially involving beads or knots."

"I can tie a living creature's blood vessels into quipu knots that spell my name—all without breaking the skin!"

"That's great! Can you do it with embroidery floss instead of blood vessels."

Bill eyed the bundle of floss Mabel held out. "Yes."

"Perfect!" She shoved four thread colors in his hands, a pair of scissors, a jar of pony beads, thought better and quickly took back the scissors, and added a roll of parachute cord. "I'll teach you everything I know. Even my secret trick to keep the edges from going all wobbly! We'll start you on chevrons and then move up to teardrop loops and triangle ends." She put her hands on Bill's shoulders, looked him in his uncovered eye, and said, "I'm gonna make you a friendship bracelet master."

Solemnly, Bill said, "I'm ready."

####

Ford squinted blearily into the living room.

Sitting alone on the far side of the room, Bill was bent over the living room table, fussing with several multicolored strings and a few beads.

Bill glanced at Ford from the corner of his eye, and then—with a faint smirk—turned back to his project without a word. Oh, he wanted Ford to ask. He was dying for Ford to ask.

It was too early for this. Ford wasn't dealing with it before coffee. He shook his head and shuffled onward to the kitchen.

Stan was already up, eating eggs with some unidentified liquid meat poured over them. Over the past year, typically Ford had been the earlier riser; but this summer Stan had gotten used to Ford pulling late nights downstairs as he worked on his research, so he didn't comment on Ford's sleeping in as he poured himself a mug of coffee.

But Stan did look at Ford's face and immediately ask, "Okay. What's the latest Bill bullsh... soup? Bullsoup."

"He's..." Ford tried to figure out what Bill was doing. "Making jewelry in the living room, I think."

Stan grunted and nodded. "Yeah, he was doing that yesterday with Mabel."

"Well, now he's doing it by himself."

Stan raised a brow.

The Stans leaned around the living room doorway to watch Bill. 

Bill was engrossed with picking out a mis-tied knot, frowning deeply in concentration, one eye squeezed shut and the other squinted. He smoothed out the thread, his face relaxed; and then he glanced at the doorway, did a double take, and his shoulders went up around his ears. "What am I, a zoo attraction? Shoo! Scat!" He waved them away. "I'll throw salt at you!"

Ford raised his palms defensively. Stan said, "Okay okay, we're going."

They retreated to the kitchen.

"Well?" Stan pressed. "Is he up to dangerous voodoo stuff?"

"I'm fairy certain Bill doesn't practice Vodou."

"Answer the question, smart aleck."

Ford ran through every form of magic incorporating strings or knots he could think of. It was a pretty short list, and most of it was used for protection or binding separate things together. "Not that I know of," he said dubiously. "But it's more likely he's up to something I don't know about than it is that he's doing arts and crafts. Don't you think?"

Stan considered that. He shrugged. "Eh," he said. "It can wait 'til after coffee."

Eh. Ford was tired. He didn't want to go to red alert over some string and plastic beads. He sat down with his mug.

####

"I'm home!" Mabel called. "Biiill, I couldn't get you a Magic Vision book! The pictures in Candy's closet started moving, and I don't know if we were hallucinating or if we accidentally summoned an invisible holographic horse you can only see when you cross your eyes, so we decided to burn the posters and library books to be safe! Do you know if Magic Vision Posters summon things...?"

"I wish," Bill said. "But hey, I've got something better. Gimme your hand."

Mabel held out her hand, half pulled it back, and said, "Why?"

"Relax." Bill grabbed her wrist, tied on a bracelet, and said, "Make a wish!" He grinned. "You're impressed, admit it. Tell me you're impressed."

Mabel studied the bracelet. "Whoa." Purple, green, and orange threads formed lacy loops around a central thread, forming an endless wave that rolled up and down. The threads passed through several star-shaped pony beads, making the wave look like the tails of shooting stars. "A Peruvian wave with a perfectly straight center cord. That takes crazy precise string tension." She looked at Bill. "I have nothing more to teach you."

"Thank you, teacher."

"Is this supposed to look like my sweater?" Mabel asked, studying the pink in the tassels tying the bracelet on. "The one on your zodiac thing?"

"Sure! You gave me one that looks like me, I gave you one that represents you. Friendship's supposed to go both ways, right?"

"Bill! Is this why you wanted to learn to make friendship bracelets?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Biiill! You're being so nice!" Mabel flung her arms around him. "I love it!" And then she took off, running laps around the living room, cackling madly and waving her braceleted arm in the air. Abuelita, who'd been watching TV, calmly turned to watch Mabel zoom around.

Oh, this was great. Look at this, Bill was the best at being a friend. Everyone who'd ever ditched him was a moron who didn't know what they were missing out on. They could've gotten personalized friendship bracelets. Maybe he should have offered Ford a friendship bracelet? No, that was stupid, why would Ford prefer a friendship bracelet over unimaginable cosmic power. But then it didn't have to be either-or, did it? Ford's favorite color was red, what went with red?

When Mabel had gotten the enthusiasm out of her system, she trotted back out to the entryway and hugged Bill again. He endured it. "You won't stop making friendship bracelets now that you've made this, will you?" Mabel asked. "You're such a natural at it! And you need more hobbies that are constructive instead of destructive."

"Ouch, kid. I'll have you know I have plenty of constructive hobbies."

"I don't believe it. Name one thing you like creating."

"Weirdness bubbles."

"Name one thing you like creating that doesn't terrify people."

Bill pursed his lips. "Agree to disagree. Anyway, I'm not getting out of the friendship bracelet game just yet. In fact, I've already got another few projects in mind."

####

Bill plopped down at the kitchen table across from Mabel. "Hey star girl. Guess what."

She looked up from her cereal at the dark rings under Bill's eyes. He had one eye squeezed shut; he could usually keep both open when he'd just woken up. "Were you up all night?"

"Doesn't matter. Time is an illusion and I can see the projector. I'm counting that as your guess. Look." Bill tossed two matching bracelets down on the table between them, deep watermelon pink and minty green, shaped like macrame chains with hearts where each link of the chain met.

"Aww, little hearts."

"Thought you'd like the hearts."

Mabel picked up one end of the bracelet and slipped it on—and then noticed the long coil of embroidery floss connecting the end of one bracelet to the other. "Bill? What's this for?"

"Didn't you say a few days ago that you wished we could go outside together? I thought up a perfect solution!"

With a sudden sense of dread, Mabel realized that the chain pattern and the string connecting the bracelets made them look like an extremely long pair of handcuffs; but before she could take off her half, Bill picked up the other bracelet and said, "There's a little magic in these, look. When both ends are being worn—" He slipped on the bracelet, and Mabel felt its matching pair gently tighten around her wrist. The string connecting them vanished into thin air.

Mabel gasped. "What—?"

"Poof! It's like a ghost: still there, but invisible to human eyes. We could even go into separate rooms and it'll connect us through the walls." He demonstrated by waving his hand under the table. "But we can't get farther apart than the length of the thread. I gave it about ten yards." He plucked up something invisible and gave it a tug, and Mabel felt the bracelet go taut against her wrist. There was no force, no matter how hard Bill tugged she didn't feel like the bracelet was pulling her; rather, it felt like the other end of the thread was tied to an immobile boulder preventing her from moving further away, until she moved her hand closer to Bill's to give the thread a little slack. "And..."

Mabel tried to jerk the bracelet off her wrist; it stuck around her hand. "How do I get it off?! Bill—!"

Bill put a finger on her hand, stopping her. He said, "Neither of us can take our end off until we both decide we're ready. Like... now." He winked; and the bracelet suddenly loosened again.

Mabel pulled it off with a sigh of relief.

"Unless one of us dies or something, I guess," Bill said thoughtfully. "That'd deactivate the magic. It'd be pretty gristly to have to keep sharing a friendship bracelet with a corpse!" He laughed. "Anyway—"

Mabel chucked the bracelet in his face. "That was mean!"

Bill blinked in surprise. "What was?"

"You tricked me!" She cradled her wrist against her chest, heart still pounding from the brief unexpected captivity.

"I did not!" He took the bracelets back and started coiling up the thread between them. "You put yours on before I even said anything."

"But you could have warned me before you got us stuck together!"

"Sure, I could have, but would you have kept it on then?"

"No, you jerk. That's the point!" She looked around for something else to chuck at Bill's face, plucked a dry piece of cereal from her bowl, and flicked it at his nose. 

Bill endured his punishment without flinching. "Well, sorry, but I had to demonstrate how they work somehow." He twirled the bracelets around one fingertip. "This solves your whole 'can't let the big scary triangle out unsupervised' problem! Slap these bad boys on, and I've got automatic supervision that I can't escape! Maybe this'll convince the adults that I can be trusted outside, right?" He ate the piece of cereal. "So? What do you think?"

She thought he was still a jerk. All the same, she studied the chain bracelets. "Did you just make me a gift that's actually a gift for yourself?"

He didn't even look a little bit ashamed. "I prefer to think of it as something we'll both benefit from!"

"Bill."

"C'mooon. You know you want me out there." He lowered his voice. "Who else in this town will help you break into the pet shop to dye the dogs' fur?"

Oooh. Mabel should not have told Bill about that ambition. "Well..."

"Or help you grill hamburgers with sprinkles. You know Stanley's never gonna do that for us again," Bill said. "Or what if you need a drive somewhere, huh? The guys with licenses are gonna get tired of trips to the craft store eventually."

"You can't drive!"

"Of course I can drive, didn't you see me during—?" Bill's eyes widened. "Oh no, you didn't see! I can't believe you didn't see my car. You, you would have loved it."

He seemed serious. Maybe he could drive. "You... shouldn't get to drive."

"What if it's an emergency and I'm the only one who can do it. Do you want me in the driver's seat with or without a leash?" He spread his hands in a shrug. "And anyway... think of everything else we could be doing together outside. Purple poodles and pink pugs are just the start, my friend."

Mabel hated when she knew she was being manipulated but Bill still made a good point. She bit her lip and glanced at the clock over the sink. A tour had just started; the gift shop should be empty and the vending machine safe to use.

She got out of her seat, taking her cereal with her. "I'm gonna run this by the household magic expert."

Bill rolled his eye. "Fine. Tell Sixer we're out of apple cider."

####

"Tell Bill we got three packs last time," Ford said. "If that's not enough to hold him one week between grocery trips, then he has a drinking problem."

"Okay, but what about the bracelets?"

Ford set aside the book he'd been reading and studied the bracelets. He slipped one on his wrist.  "Mabel, would you mind putting on the other side?"

"Sure!" She pulled on the bracelet. It tightened around Ford's wrist and the thread between them disappeared. Fascinating.

After a few minutes of experimenting to see how they worked, Ford was fairly sure this was a spell he'd learned about years ago, although he'd lost the details when he tossed his second journal in the bottomless pit. Usually it was done with metal chains—but the spell should make the bracelets nigh on indestructible while the magic was active, so, as promised, it would contain Bill. As long as he didn't murder the person on the other end of the spell.

"So can I take Bill outside?" Mabel asked, hands laced together and eyes wide. "Please please please?"

"You did hear what I just said about murder, right?"

"We'll bring someone else along! Bill wouldn't try to kill me if someone else is standing guard!" (At least she still recognized that there were circumstances where Bill would try to kill her.) "He's been stuck inside for weeks. That's not healthy! He needs to stretch his legs, get some sunshine!" She smacked Ford's desk as a thought occurred to her, "And we need to take him clothes shopping. I can tell he's uncomfortable in gift shop t-shirts and Abuelita's skirts. Does he even like skirts?" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Does he even have underwear, or is he still wearing Soos's old swim trunks?"

Ford winced. "Melody was kind enough to pick some up a few days ago." But he could admit it had taken them longer than it should have.

"What about the rest of his clothes? Does he have a bra?"

"Wh—" Ford sputtered. "Does he want one?"

"I don't know, I haven't asked. It might be more comfortable. He has a lot of chest."

Lord. Ford closed his eyes. He did not want to think about bras.

"Pleeease?" Mabel said. "I wanna take him clothes shopping. He's probably never explored human fashion before! He's got to find his style. I can be his style consultant."

Aha. So that was what Mabel was getting out of all this: a person-sized dress-up doll.

Truth be told, they probably should take Bill outside. Depending on how Fiddleford's research proceeded, destroying Bill could take weeks, if not months. If there were ever an emergency, they might need to relocate Bill quickly—so it was better to ensure the bracelets worked as advertised before they became necessary.

"Fine. But this won't be a regular thing," Ford said. "Ask Stan when he can go. And your brother—I'd rather Bill know the numbers are stacked against him. And he's not allowed to talk to anybody outside the shack. You, Dipper, and Stan will have to intercept anybody he might speak to."

"Don't worry about that! I've got the perfect solution," Mabel said. "What if Grunkle Stan doesn't want to go?"

"Ask him to talk to me. I think I can convey the importance."

"You don't want to come? Are you too busy figuring out how to kill him?" Mabel's gaze moved to the books Ford had been reading.

Ford suppressed the urge to shut the books and hide the papers beside them. Mabel wouldn't be able to understand the books anyway: it was an ancient Roman historian's description of augury—fortunetelling with birds—and a Latin reference dictionary he was consulting to help him translate. He was more afraid Mabel's gaze would fall on the pages next to the books, where a few vocabulary words from the mystical, mythical language of the birds had been scrawled out in Bill's distinctive chicken scratch.

No, Ford wasn't busy figuring out how to kill Bill. He was still waiting to hear back from Fiddleford about the feasibility of synthesizing or replacing the quantum destabilizer's Dontium; and, in the meantime, he'd allowed himself to believe there was nothing else he could do on his own... and by now, he'd gotten thoroughly distracted. Going through Bill's notes, verifying his claims, following up on the leads he'd subtly slid in. Bill's miniature grimoire was the most dense magical text since the Emerald Tablet. Opening it up was like a cryptography puzzle mixed with a dissertation research project, and each sentence was a fractal flower of information, a bud that bloomed into a dozen more buds that each bloomed into a dozen more.

It was amazing. Enthralling. This was the kind of research Ford was made for. He was the most relaxed he'd been in weeks.

He hadn't told anybody what he was doing while Fiddleford worked.

"No, not that," he told Mabel, "I just don't want to spend time around Bill. Especially on what's essentially a social trip. Stanley can... handle it better."

"Oh," Mabel said. "That makes sense, I guess."

Ford glanced uneasily at Bill's papers, then looked away before Mabel could see.

He was so caught up in his own shame at getting caught toeing at one of Bill's traps, he didn't notice the quick shameful look on Mabel's face for the same reason.

####

(Thanks for reading! Please drop a comment or reblog if you enjoyed, y'all's commentary is what helps keep me writing. ❤️

Also I feel like Google translate can handle the Latin pretty well if you wanna see what Bill's saying at the start, but it's important to me that you know Google is wrong about "quadrum defututum" and it can actually be more accurately translated as "you square slut.")

[smp-live]

The apocalypse happened a few years ago. And- it's vague, the apocalypse. It's not some big earth-shattering moment. It's confused tv reports and impulse decisions and little growing bits of tension until the pot boils over.

The details are fuzzy; it all happened so quickly that many civilians were left unaware of what exactly went down. One day, they were living, and the next, most weren't.

Nukes, EMPs, solar flares - the survivors find it doesn't matter. One way or another, the world ended, millions died, and everything’s different. Hostile. Harsh. Unforgiving. The sun is bright and searing, and radiation burns skin not covered head-to-toe.

People are cruel and will take advantage of anything they can. If you're not a part of an already-existing group, good luck.

Somehow, two men end up on a wooden pallet floating in the middle of the ocean. Maybe it was a plane crash, one of the few still running downed by a stray shot; maybe a boat capsized, embrittled by the radiation. Same as the apocalypse, it doesn't matter. What does is that now they’re surrounded by debris and a shark thirsting for blood and there’s one thing they both know: trust no-one.

So they don’t. Names hold power, as they’ve learnt over the past few years; names imply trust. When it becomes apparent they’re stuck together and the time comes to introduce themselves, the elder of the two stares out to sea and says, “Call me...” And that phrase brings back memories of a book he’d read long ago, in the Before Days, and so he finishes, “Ishmael.”

The younger panics and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind: “I’m Gunk.”

‘Ishmael’ raises a skeptical eyebrow, clearly amused. “Gunk,” he repeats. And ‘Gunk’ nods, crosses his arms.

“Yeah, bitch. It’s...” his mind blanks, “Russian.”

Ishmael’s brow climbs further, and he looks on the verge of laughing, lips twisting ever-so-slightly upward. “Last name?”

“Uh,” Gunk wracks his brain, and something from a history class, years ago, stands out. Nearly forgotten amongst all the useless information - what he calls anything that doesn’t directly contribute to survival, nowadays - and only clinging on through his brain classifying it as ‘important’ for God-knows-why. “Gorbachov.”

“Like... Michael Gorbachov?” There’s a hint of laughter in Ishmael’s tone now, the first in a while. He tries not to let that thought depress him.

Gunk nods, relieved at the reminder of the rest of the name, even if he still can’t place it. “Yeah. He was my father.”

“Michael Gorbachov, eighth and final leader of Soviet Russia, was your father,” Ishmael deadpans, and, frustrated at having been outplayed, Gunk scowls.

“What of it?” he challenges, which makes Ishmael laugh, throwing his head back to the blistering sun high above.

“Okay, Gunk,” he says, and yet it doesn’t feel patronizing.

They both know the other is lying, that much is obvious from the constant teasing and jokes about Gunk’s ‘father.’ But it doesn’t matter, because in the slow turning of the days, they grow close. After all, there’s not much to do on a makeshift raft in the middle of the ocean, other than chat.

Ishmael is handy, and the main reason for their survival. He knows how to purify water and fillet a fish, how to add on to their raft without nails and swim against the ocean current. Gunk wonders where he picked all that up, but never asks.

(A survivalist father and paranoid brother, whom Ishmael hasn’t seen in half a decade. The thought that they’re probably still alive brings him comfort.)

Gunk, on the other hand, does most of the grunt work. Fishing in debris that floats by, diving down for rocks when they briefly dock, and the ever-important duty of keeping the shark they named Clive from destroying their miserly raft. He keeps up a steady stream of chatter through it all, and Ishmael thinks that’s what makes the monumental effort to go on worth it. Then, he wonders when he let himself get attached.

(It was a week or so in, when Gunk had fashioned himself a shelf out of the bottom of a storage bin and some planks, and proclaimed it his ‘comfort shelf.’ Gunk felt the same when Ishmael didn’t tell him to dismantle it, only pushed it aside, even though they were supposed to use that wood to repair Clive’s last attack.)

They survive, they grow closer, they hesitantly trust, and yet, they don’t pry. They don’t share their real names. Not until one day.

Ishmael goes swimming out to a nearby island to scavenge for food and chop down a few trees, if he can manage. Gunk stays on the ship - an anchor is next on their to-do list, and so he’s responsible for keeping it from drifting off with his tiny paddle. Except it’s not well-crafted, and grey jaws reach up to snap at the wood he’s standing on so he uses it to stab Clive, and the tip breaks off. The raft starts drifting away.

“Ishmael!” he calls, then again, louder, “Ishmael! Fuck, man!” But he’s nowhere to be seen, and the current is dragging Gunk awfully far out from the island.

He keeps calling, shouting, screaming, increasingly panicked at leaving his friend, the man who’d helped him survive for months, now, behind. Until his voice grows hoarse the way it never did from rambling for hours on end, and a little speck appears on the beach of the island.

Ishmael waves widely at him, and he must be shouting but Gunk can’t hear it over the lapping of the waves. So he assumes what was said, hollers, “I can’t fuckin’ come back, arsehole!” and raises the remains of the paddle over his head to clarify.

The speck stills, then bursts into motion, tossing everything he’s holding aside and shucking his shoes. Gunk can practically hear him mutter about what an “ridiculous child” he is, because although they’ve never shared their ages Ishmael’s decided he’s the elder of the two, which obviously means Gunk is a child.

And then Ishmael dives into the water, and he’s closing the distance between himself and the raft with each stroke. He cuts a straight line through the waves, until he suddenly swerves to the left. Gunk is confused a moment, before he notices - a grey fin jutting out of the water next to him.

Clive goes in for another pass, then another, and Ishmael jukes him out both times. He’s maybe five meters away, now, but the shark is coming back so Gunk screams. But Ishmael’s head is underwater, and he doesn’t hear. Just keeps going, towards safety he won't make it to.

Clive barrels into him. Ishmael vanishes underwater.

He doesn’t come back up.

Gunk is diving in before he can properly think, pushing past the cold shock of the sea, as he uses his self-taught skills to bring him to where he guesses Ishmael last was. Then, he takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and goes under.

After a nervewracking few moments, his elbow bumps into something and he latches on, desperately dragging it upwards. They break the surface and he gasps for breath, Ishmael limp against him.

The trip back is agonizing. Ishmael is deadweight, their clothes are waterlogged, and Gunk has never been the best swimmer. But Clive is still lurking, and he refuses to drown after all this time, so he manages to drag them both back to the raft through pure willpower and spite.

Gunk collapses next to where he’d heaved Ishmael onto the planks, taking a second to compose himself. Shivering violently, he curls into a ball - he'll have to go for a spare change of clothes. His eyes drift shut. In a moment.

Then, panic seizes his heart as he becomes aware of how still Ishmael is. He jerks up, staring at him, searching for any sign of life, anything-

But a moment later he relaxes, when Ishmael rolls over and starts heaving out saltwater. Gunk reaches over and pats him on the back until it subsides, and he falls back onto the wood.

“You,” Ishmael says, letting his eyes flutter shut, “are so stupid.”

Gunk feels a burst of indignation. “Hey, what the fuck! I just saved your dumbass, Ish-ma-el.” He scowls at Ishmael’s placid little twist of the lips.

“Wilbur,” he murmurs, hands folded over his chest.

“What?”

“My name is Wilbur.”

Oh.

“I’m Tommy,” he says after a moment of silence where it sinks in, what he’d just been told, the trust laid on him, and then lays down next to Ishmael - Wilbur, now.

Wilbur just hums and wraps an arm under his shoulders, tugging him close - which is new; they’re really going all-in with this trust thing, huh? - then says, “So, so stupid.”

“Oi,” Tommy protests, but leans in closer.

Things aren’t really visibly different, after that. They still bicker, still do the same daily tasks, still slip up and call each other ‘Ishmael’ and ‘Gunk’ - though it becomes less and less common, other than with a teasing tone. They finally get their anchor, which means Tommy has the chance to go on land; though he quickly grows to dislike it after an incident with a particularly pissed-off boar.

To an outsider, everything remains the same. But to the inhabitants of the raft, it feels different. More homely. Warmer.

Once, after Wilbur chides Tommy over something or another, Tommy rolls his eyes and says, “You know, we really are like brothers.” He tries to keep his tone joking, and to not let himself hope for the words to be true.

Wilbur freezes. “Don’t say that; I’ll cry.” He blinks once to keep the tears at bay, and tries to push down the warmth in his chest.

(They both fail.)

About four months in, a light appears in the distance, at night. They angle their sail towards it and the dark shadow on the horizon. A few days later, it becomes apparent what it is: a lighthouse.

Inhabited land. Civilization.

They gather their meagre supplies once they dock, then ditch the raft in favour of climbing the lighthouse. And, from the top, off over a hill, Wilbur spots it first, points it out to his brother, who squints-

A Dome.

[writersrealmbts]

Cruise

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo! For the Boating prompt.  A summer cruise as a translator for world-famous band BTS: what could go wrong? WELL, the zombie apocalypse. In the middle of the ocean, are you safe? Or is there danger lurking in the deep?

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence (especially after the third content break), mild language? (I can’t remember if there’s language or not but I’ll tag it)

Posted: 06/11/2021

Tags: Zombie apocalypse au, Yoongi x reader

Angst?: 8,342 words

A/N: Oh look, another zombie au. 

The engine was idling.

The radio was on, and everyone was listening to the broadcast in silence. The horror was slowly growing in your stomach.

“The country is overrun, we’re broadcasting from a locked room, and we aren’t certain how much longer we can hold out…how much longer we’ll be safe. We’ve had news from several other countries reporting the same conditions. They’re mindless, react to movement…don’t like bright lights…most active starting at dusk all the way through dawn. Don’t let them injure you. They hid the mutagen in vitamins and supplements. Whatever you do…don’t ingest anything from Biogene International.”

You swallowed hard, hugging yourself as background sounds of other voices and banging echoed through the radio

“Oh God, they’ve found us,” The radio announcer murmured. “I guess this is it. If you’re isolated from infestations, I suggest you stay isolated. Cut off the heads. And enjoy this last song by Andy Lange. God save us all.”

The radio started playing ‘Not Sure Yet’, and you just listened to it as your heart broke.

They finally ruined the world.

And you weren’t with your friends and family when it happened.

You were with your stupid ex-boyfriend that you’d just broken up with, the staff of the ship that hired you as an extra translator for the last group—a kpop group and their staff that were filming a vacation show of some sort.

And you’d have to be born under a mountain of rocks to not know that the kpop group was BTS, and in any other situation you’d be excited about helping them as a semi-casual fan of theirs.

But right now you really hated them, and their choice of this ship that employed your ex-boyfriend—even if you’d been the one to get him that job.

“So,” The spoken-of devil murmured, coming to stand next to you. “Sounds like the world is actually ending.”

You took a deep breath, because everyone could hear, and were subtly watching.

“Changes a lot of things doesn’t it?”

“Except one.”

“What?”

You turned to him. “I still would rather die alone than live my life with you.”

He sputtered, but you didn’t stay to listen to him try to argue with you, turning off the radio since it had turned to static and going to the other translator.

“Do they know?”

He nodded gravely. “They’re trying to check on their families.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” You told him, bowing slightly to the other staff and the boys before going over to some of the other crew. “How much food do we have?”

“Maybe enough for a week,” The cook, Lori, answered. “If I ration.”

“Do it. Same with water?”

“We should have two weeks, more if we cut back on showers, mopping, other excess water usage,” The first mate said, staring out at the horizon. “Hopefully by then we’ll know if there’s a safe port. The captain went to try and radio as many other ships as possible.”

“We should make sure none of that Biogene stuff is on the ship,” One of the engineers said.

The first mate nodded, quickly moving. “Everyone! We need to make sure that there are no Biogene products on this vessel. Please go check all of your pills and supplements, anything that could be pharmaceutical or…just check everything!”

You translated quickly, then went to check your own things. You didn’t have much that could be from that company, but you checked absolutely everything just to be sure.

Then you went to help the staff and band just in case.

They weren’t coming up with anything, so you headed for the captain’s cabin just to see if there were any more plans at that point.

Captain Cobden Alby was an elder man, who tended to become an Uncle, Brother, or Grandfather figure for anyone who’d let him look out for them. You knew him relatively well, because he’d looked out for you when you started working with his tourism company, helping foreigners book trips with him and accompanying them on trips to help out. You’d worked with him for the past three years, and he’d been kind enough to hire your then boyfriend when he needed a job—though you now understood his reluctance. You wished he’d been more reluctant.

“Well, y/n,” Cob sighed. “Guess this is a new chapter. Any ideas?”

“Islands will gain control more quickly, I think, and there are a couple uninhabited islands we might be able to land at if we get desperate. We have nets, so we can fish if we have to. And if we start getting stills set up now, we can provide ourselves with more water. Revert to basic survival, I think.” You chewed your lip. “But if we’re going to use an uninhabited island, I think we should find one and stick around it, because people are going to try and escape by boat and they might bring it with them. The likelihood of the messages and warnings reaching everyone is slim.”

He sighed and nodded. “Our passengers?”

“Scared. But everyone is checking for the products to dispose of them, as you know, and they’re trying to contact their families back in Korea.”

“Have you tried your family?”

You stared out at the water. “I’m afraid to.”

He nodded again, looking grim. “I’ve heard from a couple other ships. We’re going to have issues with food at some point, so the island idea might be good. Maybe we can work with the other ships as long as they stay uninfected to build a sort of safe-haven?”

“Maybe,” You agreed. “We’ll be breaking laws if we land on some of the islands though. Or fish near them. They are wildlife refuges right now.”

“Hon, I don’t think that’s as big of an issue as of yesterday,” Lori said, shutting the door. “We can respect the wildlife. It would only be temporary, right? I mean, things have to stabilize sometime, and I think the islands should stabilize more quickly.”

You didn’t have very high hopes for the islands stabilizing, unless they were able to quickly regulate who came in and out of the populace of Hawaii. But people were creative and there were thousands of boats and planes in existence.

“Alright, so we’re going to go near the closest uninhabited, and weigh anchor, just for safety. But we’re not going to do anything on the island or any fishing until absolutely necessary. We’ll get some water stills set up, and start rationing the food. Try to preserve some fruits, Lori.”

She nodded. “You got it, Captain. But you better get someone else on those stills. Not my division, you know.”

“I’ll get our engineer on it. Dobby will need to be distracted anyway. Y/n, you should go tell our passengers the plan for now.”

“Right. First, I want a thank you.”

“For?”

“Convincing you to invest in some backup solar power for the ship to run things like the radios.” You paused at the door. “How long can the engines run?”

“I made sure we had enough to last us a couple of months, and I’ve got us going slow to reduce consumption. But we’ll have to start thinking about how to move once we run out, which is why I think your idea for the islands is a good one. The ship would be a safety point, and we could use the life-boats to get back and forth. At least until we have some sort of relief. And we might be able to go somewhere before we run out of gas. You never know. This might blow over quickly.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” You went out to check on the idols and their staff again.

They had gathered in the dining lounge, and everyone was double checking each other to make sure that there weren’t any Biogene products.

“Everyone, I’ve just finished talking to our captain, and he’s asked me to tell you our current course of action,” You started, gathering the idols and staff’s attention to explain things. “We’ve communicated with some other ships, but our current course is to head for an uninhabited island and keep to the coast of that. We have the supplies to fish, and our cook is currently working on preparing the food for rationing. Our top engineer is going to work on making sure we have a constant source of drinkable water, but for now we’re reducing our water usage. We’re scanning the radio frequencies to try and find another source of information for what’s going on out in the world, but right now it’s very quiet. We ask for your cooperation as we continue to approach these problems calmly and rationally, and your patience as we try to figure things out.”

“Is food an issue?” Seokjin asked.

You shook your head. “Not at the moment, we’re just trying to make sure it lasts as long as possible, especially our fruits and vegetables. Anything in the kitchen that we can regrow here on the ship, we will attempt to do so. The ship was stocked for at least a hundred passengers, plus the crew, and since we don’t even reach sixty with the passengers and crew combined, we should be able to hold out for a while, we’re just trying to make our food last as long as possible, which is why we will likely be utilizing the fishing nets, so we can eat and still prepare for the future. Because we have had warning, we have time to prepare for the worst, but we are still hoping for the best. We are not giving way to fear. At the moment, all we’re asking is that you remain calm and patient with us.”

That seemed to be agreeable for everyone, so you bowed a bit and then went to check in with the other translator and manager to find out what you could do to help.

Yoongi intercepted you. “Hey, sorry, I know you’re busy.”

“It’s fine, how can I help you?”

“Um, actually, I was going to ask if there was anything we could do to help? It’d be…hard to just ignore the situation.”

“I understand, unfortunately, at this moment, we’re not even certain what we need to get done. When we do, I will let you know if there is any way for you to help. For now, we have solar power that you can continue to use for charging your phones, just in case you get a call from your families, and we can power the lights. Any extra batteries, try to save them.”

He nodded. “Okay. Shouldn’t they turn of the air conditioning then?”

You shook your head. “That would be inviting trouble. People get less rational when they overly warm or cool. Turning it off would reduce morale.”

He considered it, then nodded. “Okay.”

You nodded as well, then moved on to talk to their managers.

You didn’t sleep that night, helping in the kitchen and mulling over different ideas to try for powering the boat. In theory, with the engineers’ help, you might be able to convert the engines to wind power, or at least move the boat using wind power, if you were careful enough. But where would you get the parts?

And theoretically, some of the fruits and veggies and other things could be regrown.

But what would you grow them in?

Lori had some sitting in a shallow tray of water to start sprouting, and some would continue to grow in just water, but others would need soil.

“Wake up, hon,” Lori said gently, patting your back. “Cap’n wants you. Something on the radio he wants you to hear.”

You rubbed your eyes as you forced yourself up. “How long was I…?”

“An hour,” She said in a scolding tone, giving you a look of disapproval. “A young thing like you needs regular sleep. I could have done that in the morning.”

You shrugged. “My mind wouldn’t shut off. You were awake. Like you said, I’m younger.”

“You tried calling your family?”

You shook your head. If they hadn’t tried to contact you, then there would be no point in trying to contact them. Either the call wouldn’t go through, or there was no one to make the call. Or they just weren’t able to call because they had no means or it was too dangerous. Any way you looked at it, it was safer to allow them to try and contact you. They knew you were on a ship, and your father studied epidemiology, so he would know that the ship would either go down quickly or not at all, barring a few statistical outliers.

Your father always called you a statistical outlier.

“Here, take this up with you, find a spot where it won’t get knocked over that gets some sun and some shade. Okay?”

You nodded, taking the tray up with you.

“Y/n,” Yoongi called, waving.

You nodded your greeting to him and the others, trying to pinpoint a good spot for it, finally finding it on a table that was bolted to the wall.

“Is this what we’re regrowing?”

You jumped a bit, turning to the boys with a hand over your heart. “Um, yes. One of the trays, anyway. We’ve got more down there, but they aren’t full yet so…this is the first one to come up for sunlight.”

“Cool,” Taehyung whispered.

Yoongi looked it over. “It…doesn’t look like much.”

You sighed. “I know. But like I said, if all goes well, these should regrow and we’ll just start the process over again. But I’ve been summoned.”

“Summoned?”

“Y/N to the Bridge, Y/N, please report to the bridge.”

You pointed up at the speakers.

“Oh, and maybe bring one of the representatives with you.”

You sighed. “Um, know where your managers are?”

They all shook their heads.

“I could come,” Yoongi offered.

You considered for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, only to save time though, I’m not going to be the one to get in trouble—got it?”

He nodded, gesturing for you to lead the way.

Cob glanced up when you came in. “You’ll love this. Hey, Johnny, I got my person here, mind repeating that now?”

As Johnny started retelling his tale, you slowly processed and translated for Yoongi.

“They were near one of the islands of Hawaii, and sometime in the night they started hearing noises against the hull of the ship…” You paused, horrified. “The creatures…they can survive in the water, and swim. He lost three people when some of the creatures managed to climb aboard.”

Yoongi looked just as grim. “So we’re not safe, even on a ship away from shore?”

You didn’t know the answer to that. “He says he’s going to see how far away from shore they’re able to follow him. That will help us determine how safe we may or may not be.”

Cob thanked Johnny, then turned to the two of you. “Well, what do you think? Do we tell the others of this possibility, or keep it quiet?”

You weren’t sure how to answer that either. There were pros and cons for both sides. But there were more cons for—

“We don’t tell them,” Yoongi said firmly.

You met his gaze and nodded, translating. “It would just incite panic. We don’t tell them until we know that it is a possibility, and even then, we wait until we’ve calculated when they could reach us.”

Yoongi nodded his agreement.

Cob sighed. “Right. You’re right. I just….”

“Take a break. That’s what Jones is for, so you can take breaks. They’re most active between dusk and dawn, right? Then for now, we just slowly make our way to the proximity of an island, Jones can do that.”

He slowly nodded. “Yeah, he’s on his way, just wanted to try his brother one more time.”

You nodded, then signaled for Yoongi to head for the door. “I’m checking back in half an hour and if you’re still here, I’m kicking heads.”

Cob snorted, but didn’t respond further.

Yoongi sighed outside, leaning against the railing. “This is really bad.”

“Really, really bad,” You agreed, leaning next to him. “You okay to keep this from your bandmates?”

He nodded. “I’ll just say that he asked for a representative agreement from our party that he should head for the nearest uninhabited island, as a formality, obviously.”

“Sounds good. And I was there as a translator.”

“What name would you give these creatures?”

“Based on description? The only word I can think of is in English.”

“And?”

“Zombies,” You offered, giving him an apologetic look.

But he nodded. “That’s what we were saying last night. Jungkook said it first, I think we were all afraid of saying it, but he likes watching those kinds of movies, so it wasn’t surprising that he named it first.”

“But watching movies about it isn’t exactly preparation for the real thing,” You whispered, staring out at the ocean. You usually loved going out on trips like this, even if you were just a translator. This time, though….

“Part of me wishes we’d never come on this trip, but part of me is glad that we did.”

“I understand that,” You whispered. “There are a lot of things that I wish. There are a lot of regrets I could have about this.”

“Y/n!”

You closed your eyes. “Speaking of regrets.”

Your ex came over, half-glaring at Yoongi. “This guy bugging you?”

“No, but you are,” You replied, rolling your eyes and pushing away from the railing, walking toward the stairs. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were holding up okay—”

“Well, I am. There’s no need for you to check on me. I’m doing just fine. Please, don’t check on me again. You do your job and I will do mine,” You snapped, turning to glare at him. “I told you, I have no regrets breaking up with you, and even if I knew the future, I would do it again, and probably sooner.”

“Whoa, no need to be so hostile babe!”

“‘Babe’?” You sneered, resisting the urge to shove him over your shoulder and down the flight of stairs. “You never have, and never will be allowed to call me ‘Babe’.”

“Chill out!”

Yoongi pushed past him and grabbed your wrist, pulling you down the stairs after him while rambling in rapid korean about it being dangerous to fight on stairs and ‘that’s how people get murdered’ and ‘unless that was your plan, which I would vouch for you, but I’m not sure who would believe it’ with an added ‘besides, there are a few witnesses’.

Damn was that hot.

No.

Wait.

Yes.

No. No, no. No, no, no.

He was someone you were working for, he wasn’t allowed to be hot.

And his hand definitely didn’t feel strong and sinewy and attractive.

“Don’t walk away when we’re talking!”

Your hold on Yoongi’s hand tightened.

“Ignore him, come with me. Our security team will block him,” Yoongi said, not looking back. “We have a head start, unless he starts running after us. Why did you break up with him? I mean, I get it, but what was the main reason?”

“Cheating, threatening, trying to emotionally manipulate me,” You listed, doing your best not to look back.

“Figures.”

You could see that the heading of the boat was changing, even as you and Yoongi made your way down to where the other boys and their staff were waiting.

“Block the guy following us,” Yoongi called to the security team as both of you passed by them. “He’s letting the panic get to him.”

The security team easily blocked your ex, and Yoongi led you straight to the poolside.

Namjoon came over quickly. “Any news?”

“Nothing new. Just needed a formal agreement to their plan from someone in our party.”

Jungkook dropped onto a seat nearby. “Any new information about the zombies?”

Yoongi shook his head. “Same as before, I think.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “And what is it that we do know?”

“The mutagen makes people into crazed killers, who don’t like bright lights and can only be stopped by cutting off their heads. Strong mutants that can only be stopped by cutting off their heads, and appear to be decaying. I think the mutagen might stimulate muscle growth while suppressing the nervous system. If I’m understanding things correctly, anyway.” You hesitantly sat down, wondering if that would be okay.

“I don’t know exactly what that means,” Jungkook replied, looking a little lost but curious.

“Well, we know that they’re significantly stronger, but their response to injuries is non-existent. Our nervous system is responsible for sending signals to the brain,” You explained, still thinking it through yourself. “Because it isn’t functioning the way it’s supposed to, maybe the pupils aren’t contracting, or something which makes them more sensitive to light.” But that still didn’t explain how they could survive in the water like they did.

“That makes sense,” Yoongi agreed. “I mean, for me, not knowing that much about the human body.”

“Same, but I remember some things, enough to try and puzzle it out, I guess,” You replied, shrugging a bit and looking around. “I should see if there’s anything I can do.”

“Sleep,” Yoongi said. “You should sleep. You look exhausted. I’ll walk you to your cabin so that jerk can’t ambush you.”

“I don’t want you to go out of your way—”

“It’s fine. You’re our designated liaison between the crew and us. It’s important that you’re safe so that we can continue knowing what is going on without pestering the crew.”

That reasoning was fair, and you appreciated it.

But also, you could see it causing issues.

“Come on, I want to make sure you at least go into your room. You should sleep, you look exhausted, and we know that the zombies aren’t going to attack while it’s this sunny out.”

You squeaked slightly as he pulled you up and after him.

But you didn’t fight him on it.

“Which way is your room?”

You quietly gave him directions, following until he reached your door and then tugging lightly on his hand to get his attention before he kept going. “This is it.”

He glanced over the door and nodded. “Right. Okay. Try to sleep, okay? We’re pretty far away from any major population so it should take a while for any zombies in the water to reach us, if they even can. We know they can go some distance, but not how far that distance is. So, rest. We’re going to have to be more alert at night anyway.”

You nodded. “You try to rest too. It’s easier to lie when you’re well-rested.”

He looked a bit grim at that. “Right. Good point. Good thing I’ve always been one to rest when possible.”

You unlocked your door and started in, stopping when he gently caught your upper arm.

“Hey, thank you, again, for everything you’re doing. I know you probably feel guilty because you sold us this package and now we’re all here, but you have no idea how grateful we were to have a ship like this essentially to ourselves.”

You shrugged. “You were booking in the off-season. We were lucky anyone was looking for a ship to commandeer.”

He smiled. “Whatever you say. Sleep well, y/n.”

You watched him walk away for a while, then slowly closed the door, once more pushing down thoughts of how attractive your client was.

———

The first zombie crawled onto the ship during a storm.

You had been eating with all of the guests, looked out the window and did a double-take. “Dobby! Come here.”

Dobby, the head engineer, politely excused himself and came over to join you at the window. “What is it?”

You pointed. “Stern, crawling over the railing.”

He squinted as he tried to see, flinching as lightning flashed—but gasping a bit as he spotted the zombie.

“Everyone is accounted for, right?”

“Right. Okay. Show-time, I guess. Bernie! Clyde! Time to get the lights on and try and decapitate a creature!”

You kept scanning the ship to check for anything else. “Someone tell the captain!”

“Yes, miss,” Clyde called.

Yoongi joined you, looking out. “Guess we know how long it takes for a zombie to swim to us.”

“Yup. Seven days. But it looks weaker than I expected. Maybe it is physically tiring?” You folded your arms, wincing as the floodlights turned on.

It was hideous. It looked like a human, but the skin looked like it had been boiling, and the eyes were strange—the irises almost black, and far too large, to easily noticeable from the distance. It’s jaw seemed unhinged, the mouth hanging open and not moving at all as a guttural screech emanated from it.

“No wonder people are so terrified,” Yoongi whispered.

“I’d like to wake up now,” Hoseok whispered behind you.

“Let’s get to safety, everyone,” You said softly. “Head down into the hallway. Just like we practiced.”

The soft noises of activity soon followed, everyone hearing you in their horrified silence, and moving to act as you had all practiced in the evacuation drills that had started four days ago. There were about eight different contingencies and several ranks of command.

Yoongi’s hand slid around yours, fingers locking around your fingers, and he squeezed your hand slightly. “Assuming it’s contagious. How long do you think we can hold out against the majority of the population of the world being zombified?”

“I think we’re lucky if we last a month like this,” You replied quietly. “We have little fortification, a few sporadic ships that may or may not be able to provide us with help, and no signs of any government being able to assist those who have survived. We’re in a warmer climate, which probably isn’t helping, and we have no idea if this contagion can spread to or through animals.”

“And no way of finding out except through evidence.”

“Essentially,” You whispered, looking around the deck and checking the positions of the crew as they carefully surrounded the zombie to try and dispatch it—the storm not exactly helping matters. “Come on, Dobby.”

You both fell quiet as you watched the crew carefully, and successfully, dispatch the zombie, both breathing sighs of relief.

“The storm should let up soon,” Yoongi murmured.

You nodded, still watching the crew members to make sure they made it to safety.

A few minutes later the all-clear signal sounded over the P.A. system.

Yoongi tugged your hand lightly. “Come on. I need a break from everyone.”

“Then, go, I’ll cover for you.”

“Nah, I want you to come with me. You need a break from everyone’s expectations.” He squeezed your hand, and gently tugged you along.

“But, why do you want me with you?” You asked.

He huffed. “Because I do.”

“Okay,” You replied, still confused.

He led you to his cabin (which was one of the best) and locked the door. “So they don’t come barging in. They do that sometimes.”

You nodded, looking around the cabin casually, even though you knew what they looked like and had cleaned these rooms on more than one occasion.

“We were actually worried at first, because Hoseok gets seasick, but he’s being doing well. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that we’re on a ship.”

“And then a storm hits and you remember all of those movies and true stories about shipwrecks?”

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah. I don’t think I could face them all right now, especially since they’ll be figuring out that zombies can reach us out here. Let them think what they want about us not being around. Our video crew has been filming for posterity, and it’s exhausting. Who’s going to care about how we spent our days on this ship?”

“Well, if we survive, meaning the human race as a whole, I imagine one day they may use it to make a film about you,” You joked, watching the rain pelt the windows.

“You too.”

“Why would they care about an extra translator? No, I’d be cut out and replaced with a super-secret girlfriend love interest, who obviously is terrified and you would save her from the zombies, because the truth and accuracy are inconsequential, and what’s important is the story.”

“Not that you care,” He teased.

“No, never, why would I care. Like I said, I make for a boring story,” You waved it away. “Besides, their movie would probably have a better ending than what reality will give us.”

“Maybe not,” He whispered, also looking outside. “You’re looking at the worse situation, right?”

“Probably.”

“So, best situation is we’re able to survive. We get through this. We set up defenses and we help other people to defend themselves and join us in fighting against these zombies, and…yes, the world will be different, but it will still be here. I mean, there are people in all sorts of remote places in the world, and we hope they’ve been warned, but most of all, they’re there. They may be safe. And maybe some of the defenses of the different countries are still standing. Military bases, forts, bunkers…we have to believe that there is still hope out there. We just…don’t know how to gauge how much hope there is.”

You pulled out your phone, noticing that you still had a signal. Noticing that you had a notification. “We need to get you back to the other boys.”

“What?”

“Come on. We’re going to talk to your staff and get you set up for a live on YouTube.”

“You don’t really think that’s still—”

“I do.”

“Wait,” He pulled you to a stop and turned you toward him. “Explain.”

“You have over 50 million subscribers, and are one of the top boybands in the world. You go live, you might be able to help us figure out how many people are still out there. It might connect you guys back to your family. To the family of the staff. We might be able to get help with making our boat defensible, or we might be able to meet up with a naval vessel that has been unaffected. It’s a long shot, but any sort of chance is a chance we should take, right?”

His eyes widened, and he looked troubled, but he nodded. “Okay. Alright. But you should join us in the video as a proper translator.”

“No, you’ll be fine, we can write out a message for Namjoon to read or something. We can plan things out, what you guys say and all of that. If there are other people out there, members of army, maybe they could use a familiar face.”

He still held you in place. “Okay. Let me change.”

You nodded. “I’ll wait outside.”

He nodded, but didn’t let go. “Hey, y/n?”

“Yes?”

He smiled softly. “If we were destined to get stuck on this cruise ship, I’m glad destiny chose you to be here too.”

Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you felt too warm all over and you spluttered something out and darted out the door as your brain went into a complete meltdown.

“Playboy!” You mind screamed.

“Honeyboy!” Your fangirl screamed.

“BREATHE!” Your lungs shouted as you wheezed and slid down the wall of the hallway.

He came out a few minutes later, and looked at you slightly confused. “Um, why are you sitting on the floor? Did I take that long?”

“Nah, I’m just, you know, meditating,” You refused to meet his eyes because if you did you would start your freakout all over again. Stupid fangirl. It was the zombie apocalypse and all your brain was telling you was that he was glad you were there and he was looking at you and that he kept getting you alone and talking with you and….

And oh no. Oh no no.

Did he like you?

Zombies. Focus on the zombies.

He was holding your hand again.

Apparently, he’d messaged the other boys and they were already gathered and the staff were there setting things up, and you guessed the translator or Namjoon had told some of the crew what they were doing, because they were helping set up. And they were doing V-Live and YouTube at the same time.

You stayed behind the cameras with a small whiteboard to help when they got stuck and to give them further things to say in English to try and help.

You considered them having at least half a million views encouraging, but you could tell that even the BTS staff were disconcerted at the small number.

Eventually the boys were mostly just talking to continue it and reassure anyone that may be watching that for the moment they were safe, and that they hoped that everyone else was safe as well. That they hoped this would pass soon.

They talked about the food, Jungkook and Taehyung belted out a few bars of different songs at intervals, Hoseok did his best to be bright and hopeful, Seokjin and Jimin jokingly flirted with the camera, Namjoon made faces and cracked a joke or two, and Yoongi talked about the future. Yoongi talked about someday looking back on this, just as we look back, and being able to think of it as a historical event that the world conquered.

They had over four million viewers when they ran out of things to say and decided to end it.

“So, again, these videos are going to be posted as soon as possible, and we hope we can meet up with and help those who may be in similar situations, or maybe those who are trapped can get help through this. Even if we just brought a moment of happiness, we will find fulfillment in that. We love you, and hope to see you all again.”

Jungkook and Jimin were crying shortly after the cameras were off.

Hoseok hugged onto them, which prompted Taehyung to hug them as well.

Seokjin tugged the other two into their impromptu group hug.

You set aside the whiteboard and headed outside, the rain finally gone. It was lighter than before, and the sun was trying to peek through again. Not quite successful yet, but every here and there you could spot a beam of sunlight breaking through.

The waves were still pretty intense, but not as bad as they could have been given the storm.

And there were gulls.

Which meant the boat was close enough to a land mass that the birds could fly out.

You hurried up to the bridge, not bothering to ask permission. “How far are we from land?”

“Well, we’ve slowed down and drifted slightly off course, which may be a good thing, since that creature crawled aboard, but,” Cob gestured to the maps he was using. “According to radar and such, we should be able to see the island in about half an hour.”

“But if the zombie came from there, we could be in trouble.”

He grunted.

You sighed, staring out at the turbulent waters. “The island could only be so big, though, which means that if they did come from there, there couldn’t have been too many people there to begin with. Right?”

“Unless it came from one of the ships we were going to be meeting up with.”

“Are we going to die?”

“Not if I have any say in it.”

“Okay. Then we’ll circle around, do our best to fortify and defend the ship, and hope for the best.” You bit your lip. “Right?”

Cob placed an arm around your shoulders. “Take heart, lass. Do something fun, would you? It’s not the end of the world yet, and there’s plenty of daylight to be had. Why don’t you see if that cat-boy wants to go to the bush-whacked deck and splash some paint around. You can take the others there some other time, but he seems to help you lighten up.”

You were a little busy trying not to die from Cob calling Yoongi a cat-boy. “Yoongi. His name is Yoongi.”

“Right. Couldn’t recall. Lots of names to remember. But he reminded me of a cat. Not in a bad way—”

“I’m going to go paint in the bushwhack deck. Don’t expect anything pretty.”

“I don’t,” He laughed happily.

You weren’t sure you wanted to try and find Yoongi, so you resolved to go change into clothes you could paint in first.

“Hey.”

You jumped, squeaked, and lashed out—nearly missing Yoongi.

He looked at you with wide eyes, just sort of blinking while you processed everything that just happened.

“Hi. Sorry. Hi.” You covered your heart to make sure it was still inside of you.

“Where you off to?”

“Um, you know the deck that’s off-limits?”

He nodded, looking a little wary.

“That’s because it’s under renovation. So, the crew goes there to vent and get away from everyone else. So, I’m going to change into clothes that I don’t mind getting paint on, and I’m going to go have fun splashing paint on everything.”

“Ah.”

“Would you like to come with me?”

He glanced over to where the others were still gathered, contemplating it. “Just me.”

“You can tell them to sneak down at a later time.”

He nodded slowly, then more vigorously. “Okay. I’ll meet you down there in ten, and tell them to come down in an hour or something?”

“That works.” You smiled a bit. “See you there.”

He nodded again, leaned in and kissed your cheek, and then walked back toward the others.

Your brain short-circuited as you hurried to your room to change and go down to the deck to pull out the paint and brushes.

Yoongi didn’t say anything as he joined you, simply helped move the paints into the room you wanted to paint in. It was one of the rooms with windows, so it had some natural light. But it also still had a bed in it, so you had to cover that with the plastic tarps.

But Yoongi stopped you. “You rushed up to talk to the captain. What scared you?”

You shrugged slightly. “The seagulls.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Birds scare you?”

“The fact that they can only go so far from land without dying does,” You elaborated. “I just wanted to see if it was a fluke from a storm.”

“And?”

“We’re nearing the island. It will be visible in about an hour at the speed we’re going, which is the slowest speed possible.”

He nodded. “So the zombie may have come from there.”

“Possibly,” You whispered.

He swore, closing his eyes as he pulled you into a hug.

You froze for a moment, then relaxed into the hug, wrapping your arms around him as well.

“You wouldn’t be some insignificant side character, y/n,” He whispered. “You’d be the main character.”

“Yeah right,” You choked out.

He held you tighter. “You would. You definitely would. That would be the only way the movie would have any plot.”

He drew back, resting a hand on your cheek. “I would love to be your romantic interest in the movie too.”

“We’re facing the end of humanity.”

“Which is why it’s important,” He answered easily. “Which is why I want to tell you that I was interested in you from the day we met you on the docks. You’re intelligent, beautiful, and strong. Stronger than me, stronger than most people on this ship. Do you object to me being interested in you? The world has gone to hell, people won’t need a boyband when this is over. They’ll need farmers, builders, engineers, and families.”

“Families,” You repeated quietly.

He nodded, taking your hands. “Families. I can never leave the other boys, they’re my family, especially if my actual relatives….”

“I understand.”

“But…maybe we can live somewhere together. Near each other, but separated.”

“You understand I used to be an Army?” You double-checked.

He grinned, laughing. “Yeah. I knew it when you laughed at one of the jokes. Usually only army’s understand it. I think it’s sort of fitting.”

“I’ve got a concussion and I’m having a weird dream,” You said, closing your eyes because that was the only logical explanation.

Except he kissed you.

And dang was he a good kisser.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!”

You jumped, turning toward your fuming ex-boyfriend. “Oh my God, go away!”

“Take your hands off of my girl!” He bellowed at Yoongi.

YOongi frowned and pulled you closer. “What is he holding?”

You glanced down and realized it was some sort of pill bottle. “Oh my God…tell me those aren’t from—”

“It’s all a hoax, you’re doing this to try and torment me, right? I’ll prove my love for you is stronger than anything.”

“Don’t! Please don’t!” You started toward him, but it was too late.

You watched in horror as he downed several pills.

“There, see! I’m fine! It’s all a hoax so that these terrorists can take over!”

You choked a little. “You need to get those out of your system—now! Even if they don’t turn you, that’s enough to overdose!”

“I told you! I’m fine!” He yelled, but his voice had already started changing.

“We need to get out of here before he changes,” Yoongi whispered. “Windows?”

“Only if you want to go swimming,” You replied. “Grab the chair and throw it at him.”

“Uh….”

“Do it!” You ordered, hurrying to a paint can.

Your ex made an ungodly noise as the chair hit him and you were quick to follow, swinging the full paint can at his head with as much velocity as you could muster.

Yoongi grabbed your hand and both of you started sprinting away. “What do we do? If he goes up, he could run into any number of people?”

“We have to take care of it before he can fully change. We need a way to cut off his head.”

“I don’t suppose he’d hold still while we used a saw?”

“Probably not,” You answered, looking around as the two of you ran. Finally you spotted something useful. “Break in case of emergencies, right?”

Your ex made that ungodly screeching noise again, and his footsteps were unnaturally fast as they beat the ground behind you and Yoongi.

Yoongi hurried ahead and broke open the case with something he must have picked up, grabbing the ax.

You stopped to throw a piece of furniture in the zombie’s path, hoping it would slow him down or trip him up or anything that might give you the advantage.

The two of you darted upstairs after doing your best to block the door.

Then you took the ax. “Sound the alarm.”

He grabbed the handle of the ax. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leading him away from the crowd. We don’t have time to debate—”

He took it and started running. “Sound the alarm. He’s focused on me.”

You looked after him in horror, then quickly started running toward the nearest place you could trigger an alarm, ducking into a room so that the zombie wouldn’t see you, holding your breath.

Finally, you could hear it going after Yoongi.

You signaled the bridge then hurried after them, looking for anything that would help along the way.

Only to see Yoongi barely holding the zombie off, even in the bright sunlight.

You went barreling into it, all while your mind screamed at you and tried to tell you to stop.

Or maybe that was Yoongi.

But it gave Yoongi the space and time to swing the ax, catching the zombie’s neck and knocking it back.

You grabbed a lifebuoy and pushed it over his head, trapping his arms. “Finish him!”

And Yoongi did, though you both stared in horror at the by-product of your battle.

You met his gaze, swallowing hard. “Is this a dream?”

He reached out and pulled you away from the body. “We need to wash the blood off. Come on.”

You were shaking all over, so it was a miracle you managed to walk without tripping.

Dobby and the others hosed both of you down, making sure the water sprayed straight off the deck, then went to clean things while the Bangtan staff brought both of you towels.

“How did that get onto the ship in broad daylight?” Cob asked, hurrying up.

You looked up at him. “It was Charlie.”

“Charlie let it get on the ship?”

“No,” You answered, confused. “That thing…was Charlie. He had pills. Pills from Biogene.”

“You should have let me throw him overboard,” He muttered, petting your head, and then physically maneuvering Yoongi to check him over. “Good. You look unhurt. Wouldn’t want to cut your head off too.”

Yoongi was just a little stunned.

“Get them out of this wind!” Lori huffed, glaring at everyone and then ushering the two of you inside and out of the wind. “You need to get into dry clothing, come on. You, you’re one of his brothers?”

The boys all froze.

She gently shoved Yoongi toward them. “Make sure he gets changed and tuck him in. Marta! Get soup to both rooms.”

You didn’t object to her manhandling, just accepting it because Lori could take you if she put her mind to it, and she was right there ready to take you.

She bundled you in blankets after helping you change into dry clothing, scolded Marta for taking so long bringing the soup, and she force-fed you the soup.

When she had done that, you knew it was time to push a bit.

“I need to go talk to him,” You whispered, ignoring the trembling of your hands and the comforting call of your bed.

Lori looked you in the eye, evaluating you, then nodded. “Let me fix your hair.”

You nodded and let her work, not even checking her work before you and your blanket wrap were heading to Yoongi’s room.

His door was open, and the others were there, but he saw you, and he pushed himself up.

The others glanced over to see what had caught his attention, then seemed to all find an excuse to leave the two of you alone.

You wandered over to the bed as the boys left.

Yoongi looked up at you, eyes sad. “Are you okay?”

You shrugged, slowly sitting on the edge of the bed. “I now know that my instincts to survive are strong enough to kill someone that I know once they’ve turned. So…I’m dealing with that.”

He shuddered and reached out, pulling you down into his arms. “We did what was necessary for the survival of everyone else on this ship.”

“How many friends are we going to lose because of all of this?”

He shook his head. “Let’s not go there.”

You turned your head into his shoulder, fighting back the tears. You had to separate moments out by mere seconds: him kissing you, a moment, and then your ex turning into a zombie. There was a moment in there, that you wished you could imagine was longer.

His fingers stroked your hair lightly, then rested on your back. “But you know…I think we’re going to be just fine. We definitely need more weapons, but I think we’ll make it.”

“You know something I don’t?”

He nodded. “While we were downstairs, a naval vessel contacted the captain. They’re about a day away from us.”

“They know the zombies can swim?”

“They do. And they’ve checked all quarters and removed all Biogene products. They had a small issue at the beginning, but they’ve got it under control now. They’re going to meet with us, and we’re going to work together. They had some civilians that they rescued, and not enough beds, so we’ll take some of their civilians, and perhaps some of their soldiers.”

“And the government?”

“It’s…sort of functioning. Multiple ones are functioning on a…mild capacity. Enough to try and organize their military to reclaim lands.”

“So, where are we being escorted?”

“I don’t know. That’s about all the information that was received, I guess. I’m sure we’ll find out more when we meet up. But…it’s good, right? That we’re able to meet up with a naval vessel?”

You nodded. “As long as we don’t get overrun by zombies tonight.”

“What a bright side,” He chuckled, lightly stroking your back. “Y/n.”

You relaxed at the gentle tone in which he said your name.

“Whatever happens, let’s make it through this together? I don’t have too many skills that are usable outside of music, but I’ll do whatever it takes to take care of you?”

You peeked up at him. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. I might be relying on you, though.”

You wrapped your arms around him. “That’s fine. I can handle that. If you’re okay with me falling apart now and than.”

“I’ll try and hold you together,” He replied, squeezing you. “We’ve got a couple hours of daylight. Want to nap?”

You pushed yourself fully onto the bed and let him help you under the covers. “Yeah, okay. I could sleep.”

He smiled, taking your hand as you both lay on your sides, facing one another. “Sweet dreams, y/n.”

“Sweet dreams,” You whispered back, still studying him with your eyes half-closed.

If you could make it to safety, then spending your life with him would be great. Better than great.

“Don’t let the zombies bite,” He murmured, smiling slightly at the teasing, and the way you swatted him.

Then you let the subtle sway of the ship rock you into sleep next to the man you just might love.

[fishmongeringstudies]

six: wandering the city while waiting for a train that'll never come, you stop to wave at a dog on the street only to realize you have mistaken a crumpled bag of mcdonald's for a chihuahua

i almost slipped and died in the shower today. luckily i didn't, because i read somewhere that slipping and dying in the shower makes it a little hard for you to finish writing a manuscript for a novel fictionalizing the events of your freshman spring semester that's definitely going to become a new york times bestseller in about four years' time, but i came pretty close. for a moment i had my hand on the wall and my legs splayed like a barbie doll stuck to a stripper pole and the matchbox world behind the shower curtain was slipping steadily south and heading lower still. and then i caught myself.

several minutes later i heard scuffling beyond the pale, soapy shower curtain and thought there might be someone creeping on me. if someone was creeping on me i had an idea of who it might be, which made the prospect all the more likely and infinitely more convincing inside the grapefruit-sized thing i called my brain. then i heard the clap of god's hands in an ashen sky, and i knew. this was no man made disaster-in-waiting. it had begun to rain.

it didn't rain for long. five minutes at best, two if my grasp on the spatial-temporal continuum is worse than i'd imagined (this is very likely; the stars pass me by faster than i can count them these days), but long enough that anyone who happened to be outside when that first teardrop fell from the sky got a little wet. a little fucked up, if you will, which, hey. good for him. he deserves to get a little fucked up.

but i get carried away. please excuse my personal grievances. this is not a lament, it is a swimming pool. full of tiny colorful fish which flit around at its bottom, chasing strands of sunlight like children on a playground.

the weather forecast says it'll rain again tomorrow, and maybe the day after, too, if the world stays sad enough to let it happen. it makes me nostalgic. when i left in february monsoon season was in full swing, tearing trees from their roots with big meaty hands and making every fleeting boring moment into the kind of gray sunday afternoon on which i imagine the directors of romantic dramas like to shoot break-ups. rain in singapore looks different. it's not a bucket full of water, it's a room. a blue room against a silver sky. your socks stuck to your ankles with the kind of grim determination that makes you almost a little sad to peel them off, to toss them in the washing machine behind the kitchen. there's a little balcony behind the kitchen in the house you left in february, with a washing machine and a ledge for sitting on and a dryer that doesn't work. you used to go there when you wanted to check on the restaurant across the street. from here you can make out the round, blue-rimmed tables that attract students, biking enthusiasts, three am brawls between red-faced european men and their red-faced european friends. if there's noise on this side of the street, it's probably coming from there.

summer. summer reminds me of home. so far i've been telling people that the association is a bad one, and it certainly isn't a lie, but it's not a whole truth either, if one believes in the matter of whole truths to begin with. i'm starting to think maybe there are only skim-milk truths, clotted cream truths, 0% fat yogurt truths. truths that change shape when you aren't looking. we aren't looking most of the time, after all. we're very busy people. all of us. we're trying to change the world.

and for what? who are we trying to save? do you want to live forever? that's the goal, isn't it. i mean it's definitely mine. i won't blame you if the concept of death sits on your shoulder like a fourth generation ipod touch with a broken home button, whispering really fucked up shit into your ear when you're alone. i mean it definitely does for me.

puzzle-girl is in new york now, last i checked. good for her. i hear new york is full of lights and electricity and car exhaust. maybe one day she will learn that friendship isn't an emergency help-line. probably not. my friend thinks she will, thinks we'll come back around in our junior year and everyone will see us stuck to each other again like two grotesque modern art pieces drilled back-to-back into a museum exhibit wall only with a firm mutual understanding of what boundaries are, but i have my doubts.

once someone told me with the kind of half-fake half-genuine smile that makes you wonder if AI technology has advanced far enough to mimic the complexities of stupid hormonal teenagers with really bad interpersonal issues after all that i was blooming. coincidentally all the flowers on campus had suddenly decided to poke their heads out of the dirt like babies busting their way out of refrigerators, guns blazing, hearts shot to pieces, so it's not like he was completely bullshitting me. he was only ninety-eight percent bullshitting me. the two percent is why he comes up in my writing as often as he does, all this time later. like i think he was ninety-eight percent clown but two percent circus, two percent red-nosed reindeer trying to unionize behind a striped curtain, two percent something real. or at least i like to think that way. i'm a writer. we have to pretend there's something to write about. or else what will we write about?

so yeah. one time someone told me i was blooming. at the time i was embarrassed. and then after the story put an abrupt end to itself i was madly obsessed with the idea of flowers jutting out of cracks in the earth, gold pouring forth from blood-wounds, poinsettia eyes, whatever, whatever, and then the flowers started wilting. standing on the path outside my dorm i was like what the fuck? why the hell is everything dying? it's been like three days, god, what are you guys made of, tissue paper?

i was talking to the flowers. which died in spite of my indignation, so that's one for nature, zero for me. good for them. see you next spring, when things will, hopefully, be different. i don't have a plan as much as i have a dream i'd like to see walk into reality on three legs and a pitchfork. but it's a good dream. i promise.

the sky's clear as glass now. it's so bright i could probably stick my hand up there and stir vigorously and then an angel would emerge from the ether, rubbing her eye sleepily with the back of her hand. that's the kind of clarity i'm talking about. making metaphors about christianity-clarity. i am lonely and my dreams are full of beautiful people-clarity.

that's a lie-clarity. loneliness is, as mentioned in a previous installment of the meandering car accident i call this blog, a choice, and i'm too lazy and full of my own slew of interpersonal issues to commit to something like that. but summer is new, and it's like i'm getting used to the body in my basement all over again. how do i step around it, how do i make sure i don't look at its face? and its eyes, oh, those eyes. how terrible. how full of absence.

there will be exactly two hundred students on campus when summer move-ins are finished next week. this school has a population of nearly sixteen hundred. what are we doing?

research. academia. learning a new language. road trips. plane trips. horse riding lessons. research. academia. learning a new language. relationships. spaceships. building a ladder to the moon.

it feels like the sun never sets sometimes. the hours slide into one another like tectonic plates beneath the surface of the world and yet the sky remains just as it looked this afternoon, milk-white and pale as death. a hot summer wind blows and sends the clouds careening sideways into each other, and yet from this distance nothing changes. drop a body in a bathtub and nothing changes. beat someone up and nothing changes. survive thirteen weeks of bad mistakes and then worse ones, midnight mistakes, thursday evening mistakes, the kind of mistake you don't think you'll ever be able to write about, and still nothing changes.

they say there's always a silver lining but what if i want fur instead? let's say i want a fur-lined sky with fur-lined clouds and a little heart-shaped toy that makes a sound when you step on it. let's say i want to be fifteen again. the sky doesn't care. it still looks like a damn sky. the sky doesn't do things out of sentimentality.

it's just kind of there. today i'm just kind of here. today we're all alive. good for you. good for me. good thing my hand was on the wall when i slipped in the shower, so i could get out and dry my hair and then sit down in this shitty weird-smelling lounge with my laptop with the cracked touchpad and my cool elmo slippers, and tell you about this solitary life on mars.

05.26.2021

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

Ok, here's how I'd set up an actual BNHA Elder Scrolls crossover in case I ever get around to write it:

1) While he's, like, 4 years old in his living room watching TV, Izuku's Quirk activates. It will not get an actual official name but we can call it Planeswalker Spark ala MTG. Basically kid can tear a hole through reality and launch himself into a different plane of existence, which is what Izuku accidentally does here.

2) It's a slow process tho, which gives Inko plenty of time to rush in from where she was to tackle her son away from the sudden green glow brightly shining around him, a impulse decision based on her Instinct to protect him at all costs, which only ends up with both of them getting sent to Skyrim.

3) Izuku incidentally also happens to be a Shezzarine. His quirk is a mutation from her mom's side, whose Quirks usually affect space in some way, and is completely unrelated to this. Anyway, he and Inko are on the cart to Helgen now, usual shit, The plot of Modded Skyrim takes places, with Inko taking on the brunt of the adventure and trying to shelter Dragonborn Izuku from his destiny.

4) After many trials and tribulations, 2 DLCs, 4 guilds, 1 Dragon War, several adopted orphans as well as so many quest mods it's unreal, Lucien Flavius and several members of the College of Winterhold manages to reverse engineer Izuku's quirk, and gives him an enchanted ring to better control it. Kid can now safely use it without risking ending up somewhere completely different from his planned location. Izuku is now 14 years old. He also had to do terrible things no matter how much his mother tried to shelter him and take the brunt of the war crimes. This leads to PTSD obviously, but also to a now blue and orange morality system, chief among them his general disregard with killing or not killing someone.

5) Getting back to 10 years prior, Izuku's Quirk causes a ripple in the Tachion Field surrounding earth, which is felt on I-Island. David Shield spends the remaining 10 years monitoring and trying to better understand the phenomena, since it could be revolutionary in the till then hypothetical field of time and space travel. When Izuku activates his quirk back 10 years later, I-Island has by then built a teleportation device, hijacking Izuku's trip and sending him to I-Island.

6) Meanwhile on a familiar junkyard, Hatsume Mei's scrappy device built via salvaged parts, spit and lots of duct tape comes to life on her back, individuating a sudden tear in the now constantly decaying Tachion Field. It's happening in the middle of the ocean tho, so she can't really deal with it now.

7) Anyway, David Shield needs Izuku at hand for his Quirk, but Izuku and his mom came back to Japan trying to live a double life since by then most of their friends and family are in Tamriel. Except, both of them have been declared dead for years, and Hisashi, the bitch, ran away with the insurance money, so they don't have a life to return to. David Shield can't let them get back to Tamriel tho, again, he needs Izuku on planet for his new research, bit also realizes that if he actually wants to leave he can't really stop him, except Izuku, you know, still wants to become a hero, just like his mom is in Skyrim. So they reach a compromise, he will try to get into UA, and will take a new identity as Mikumo Akatani, usual excuses to have Izuku get into 1-A you know?

8) Izuku can't really make his Quirk public tho. So, after forging his and his mother identities as a foreign dignitary from the states and her son, and his Quirk is listed as "Cataclysm" (The last perk in the destruction skill tree for a Fire (and Earth) mage in the Ordinator Mod). He is after all a member of the college of Winterhold, trained under the Great and Powerful Destruction Magician Uncle J'Zargo the Magnificent himself, of course he knows plenty of spells. However, he can't really explain all of them as one Quirk, or better yet, he can, it would just get really complicated, so he just goes "My mom can move things with her mind, my... Father, ugh, can blow fire from his mouth, obviously my Quirk is being able to control flames with my mind, usually from my hands but some times also via vocalisation."

9) Which means Izuku has to really contain what shit he can do. It's a very superman like situation, since he needs to remain in control at all times and also not slip up and pull spells he couldn't explain as his "fire" quirk, least people start asking questions. Some people however notice.

10) Tsuyu and Todoroki start an unofficial conspiracy theorist fan club over it.

Tsuyu was there with him at the USJ, where in his sudden hyperfocused competence over the crisis situation made her realize A) This is not the first time this boy has almost died in his life and B) Back in the water at the USJ, she could swear she saw his hands shining as some strange light washed over him, and she could swear he could swim as fast as her back then, and for such long periods of time she could swear he could breath underwater. That makes it really suspicious.

Todoroki sees another kid with a powerful fire quirk but also the signs of a hard life and who seems to not like his father, and instantly goes "Oh... same hat." So his conspiracy is that Izuku is actually Endeavour Bastard Son he had after a premarital affair during a visit to the states 14 years prior, and he has a corkboard to prove it. He also realizes that he's trying to contain his power just like he is, which makes him believe he too must have done a pledge just like him.

11) Shinso beats Bakugou on the first match of the tournament. Doesn't really matter to the overall crossover I just wanted to point this out.

12) Anyway, this explodes during the Sports Festival. It's Todoroki Vs Midoriya, and 1) everyone is comparing the two due to similar Quirks, which Izuku finds really unfair to both of them, 2) Todoroki is being a stubborn ass with his quirk and 3) Izuku can't really talk now l, can't he? That would make him an hypocrite, and he might be a Mage, an Honorary member of the Explorer Guild, a Dragonborn and also a Bard College Student for some reason, but he's not a hypocrite, so he just up and SNAPS because hey, maybe Todoroki will actually unleash his full potential if someone else does it first too.

13) So, Izuku Midoriya, on national television, starts blasting. Armour Spells, Ice Spells, Lightning Spells, Mind Spells, Water, Wind, Air, Poison, turns himself invisible, summons a Dremora Champion, shouts with the power of the souls of the Dragons his mother slew, Todoroki actually has to start using his fire but is mostly out of sheer survival now ("There is always a bigger fish out there, and one day you deciding not to use your full power just because of a stupid pledge will get someone killed. Trust me, I know. You better start realizing that now Todoroki"), and is still a close match because Izukus spells all start from his hands or mouth after all, and Todoroki has now something to prove more than ever.

14) Without his robes on tho, Izuku Magicka is depleted in the end, ending up in a tie as the two collapse from exhaustion. Rather than an arm wrestling match this time, Izuku is disqualified due to the sudden mutation of his Quirk. He's fine with it and probably expected it, bit this still bums Todoroki out, as well as all of his classmates and friends.

15) After the Festival there are 4 leading theories on Izuku now:

A) All Might, discovering via Tsukuachi that Izuku's identity is fake, as well that he looks a bit like a missing case kid from 10 years ago, AND knowing that AFO is back due to the USJ... Believes Izuku is a mole, and is working, willingly or unwillingly, for AFO after he was implanted with all those Quirks. He is now incredibly suspicious of him, and it kind of shows. Nighteye is on the same page despite not having talked to the man in years, and is subtly trying to have Mirio scout out the kid to see if he's a threat. Mirio is too much of a Golden Retriever to even realize what has been asked of him tho, and just think Nighteye wants him to befriend another kid with a promising Quirk.

B) Todoroki now knows the truth. Izuku is Monoma's long lost twin brother. His Quirk allows him to copy the Quirks of those around him (Iron Skin and Stone Skin would be Tetsu Tetsu and Kirishima Quirks after all, Invisibility is Hakagure, Fire and Ice are either his or Bakugou's, Lightning is Kirishima, and Tsuyu mentioned how he could swim and breath underwater while near her, meaning he was using her Quirk). He has connected the dots.

C) AFO still remembers his brother's lover, the stories she came up with, the long periods of times she was gone, only to return with a haunted look in her eyes... The powers she hid from him, thinking he wouldn't notice, the way she fled right after his brother lay lifeless on the ground, almost disappearing into thin air with his broken body... The family his brother hid so well from him, as if they were in another world all together... They never told him, but he knew, he knew she had some sort of Quirk, one that had been then inherited by this new Mikumo Akatani, so similar to HIM yet so different, back from the other world in revenge for his ancestor.

He has to capture that kid. He's family after all, and his quirk belongs to him, it's his by right as his brother's keeper. And with it, he will be able to extend his reach to worlds beyond his own.

D) the official version, the one David Shield puts out, is that Izuku's Quirk evolved unexpectedly due to the new environment he was in, mentioning it as a precursor of Quirk Singularity.

E) The only one who actually got it is Hatsume. She can tell Izuku is the source of the Tachion Spikes and subsequent decays as he "returns home" in Skyrim when leaving school, so she perfectly understands that he's a powerful warlock from across dimension who had come here with the power of science and unholy magic to infiltrate society posing as a hero. Obviously, she's going to help him do it becoming his evil vizier and grand artificer of course. Worst case scenario, she can now market the shit out of him as a hero using her babies, best one, he succeeds and she gets to rule Australia out of their "Deal." I say "Deal" because Izuku isn't even sure he got half of what she was saying, but she seems nice and if Skyrim taught him anything is that you should treasure everyone willing to be your friend, so they hang out together, scheming and plotting without even realising it.

Tsuyu however pretty much got the gist of what Hatsume was saying (it was a crowded lunch break after all) and while she does know Izuku doesn't seem the type of the interdimensional conqueror, she still decides to call dibs on North America in exchange of becoming his Grand Admiral.

And Who knows, maybe he'll end up starting an actual line of Dragonborn Emperors there too.

Anyway that's the rough draft.

[random-thought-depository]

A short vignette I wrote as part of a discussion on a forum I post on, with past/present tense and other grammar and formatting and math somewhat cleaned up from the rough version I posted there, and I’ve given it a title; it is a stand-alone piece and is not connected to any of my main SF settings; I took the liberty of re-using some relatively generic planet names and taking a little inspiration from John M. Dollan’s Arcbuilder Universe (if you’re interested you can find links to a little of John M. Dollan’s more recent writing on his Twitter):

----------

Advantages of Specialization

As I departed Cordillera, I passed a sign of the times. There was one of the big Hegemony freighters, on its leisurely upward fall toward minimum safe distance. It was much too far away for unaided eye visual contact, of course, but Mariposa's telescope gave me a fine view of it. And Cordillera space traffic control had supplied all the relevant details, of course; planned trajectory and burn timing, alpha-numeric designation - and a name; the Humbolt. Humbolts are whales that sing. Appropriate, I guess; it was big. Next to it little Mariposa would look - well, like a butterfly flitting around a whale, I guess. Mariposa is 50 meters long and masses 100 tons, 500 tons fueled up, with space for about an elephant's mass in cargo. Mariposa could fit inside Humbolt's fuel tank. Mariposa could fit inside the nozzle of Humbolt's fusion rocket.

Humbolt had finished its escape burn from Cordillera two days ago and it was just falling up now, not very fast. Its orbital rockets had burned at a leisurely .5 MSS, only a twentieth of a G, and hadn't burned very long. It hadn't even reached escape velocity from Cordillera's sun. Mariposa had burned hard, 3 G on the way up from Cordillera's surface, then 1.2 G the rest of the way to outbound flight velocity. Mariposa passed Humbolt quickly; the velocity differential was huge. Mariposa hadn't just reached escape velocity from the local sun, Mariposa had reached escape velocity from the galaxy! If I never burned her rocket or did a hyperspace jump again Mariposa would fall up very long and very far, into intergalactic space, where she'd fall up until her atoms evaporated by proton decay or the Big Rip tore her apart or she disintegrated from the slow sandpapering of the intergalactic medium, whatever came first. Of course, that wouldn't happen. I'd reach the local hyperlimit and jump to hyperspace in three months or so, then it'd be a few days in hyperspace, then another two months to get from the 82 Eridani hyperlimit to Hyannis. Funny; a few months to cross a few dozen AU, a few days in hyperspace to cross dozens of light years, a light year is more than 60,000 AU. Our-space distances aren't applicable to travel in hyperspace, of course, but I still think it's funny. Lots of people do.

As I passed Humbolt I studied telescopic images of it, studied its weaknesses, and thought maybe a whale wasn't the right analogy for it after all. Something from an ocean was, but not a whale. It was more like one of those deep sea fish that explode when you bring them to the surface, into the light.

Humbolt hadn't landed at San Ysidro Spaceport. It couldn't have. It wouldn't have survived trying. Humbolt is a pure creature of the void, that will never know the kiss of air or the touch of ground. It unloads and loads cargo at space stations, leaving transport to and from planetary surfaces to specialized local surface-orbit shuttles.

Humbolt is long thin pillar more than a kilometer long, with the fusion rocket at one end, a spherical fuel tank and the cargo and a small crew section spun for centrifugal gravity at the other end, and huge radiator wings between them. The long pillar is to protect the rest of the ship from the heat and radiation of the fusion drive. The fusion drive has a maximum rated acceleration at full cargo load of 2 MSS - one-fifth of 1 G. If Humbolt tried to accelerate much faster with a full cargo load, its engine would melt with waste heat. And if by some miracle it got itself up to 1 G that long pillar would snap and crumble. Put Humbolt on the surface of an Earthlike world, and it would disintegrate into a mass of rubble. If Humbolt tried to land like Mariposa, it would have the aerodynamics of a brick, and pieces of it would snap off from air friction, and its great rocket wouldn't have the thrust to control its own fall, and its own weight would break its back before it even touched the ground.

Maybe a whale isn't a bad analogy after all. The blue whale is the biggest animal to ever live on Earth; it's easier to be big in the water.

It's about efficiency, see. Humbolt should never experience a force of acceleration much above 2 MSS, so it's not built to take more than .5 G or so. That's a good safety margin, given the gentle acceleration its drive maxes out at. Building it fragile like this is efficient. Saves mass. Saves construction material. Saves fuel. Saves money.

It doesn't even really have a cargo hold. They just attach stuff to the front. Lots of different configurations are possible. On that trip Humbolt's front end was a greebled sphere of snapped-together rectangular cargo containers half a kilometer across, with a sort of tarp draped across it to protect it from high-velocity dust. There must have been hundreds of thousands of tons of cargo in that greebled sphere of cargo containers. It must have been a non-trivial fraction of Cordillera's yearly offworld trade. Cordillera isn't a big colony; it's a dusty dry world with only a few small seas, marginally habitable, only 160 million inhabitants. The sphere is the most efficient shape for a container, and the protective tarp is light, and Humbolt doesn't need to worry about streamlining. Trucks and trains and planes and boats and Mariposa are long and narrow because if you have to worry about streamlining you want to minimize frontal area. Humbolt doesn't have to worry about friction, so its cargo can be gathered into a sphere, which is efficient.

Free traders like me with ships that can take off and land like Mariposa are still a lifeline on Cordillera. Until a few years back Cordillera had just one orbiting space station to service big cargo ships like Humbolt. The Hegemony gave them another one a few years back though. Gave them another space station. A whole space station. Just dragged it in all the way from Alpha Centauri. The Hegemony must have plans for Cordillera.

Humbolt fell behind quickly. After they'd passed a few million kilometers behind they sent a text message telling me they were about to fire up the big fusion rocket. The burn timing was already registered with Cordillera space control who'd passed it on to me, of course; it was just standard procedure. The Hegemony were sticklers for this kind of thing. The contents of the message were very standard too; if it hadn't been composed by a computer it might as well have been. I wondered if it was AI composed or some sort of standardized form they had a human fill out. There'd be an audio warning and check-in too.

The audio warning was less standardized. A male voice, with an accent that might have been Tolimanish, saying, "This is the Kentauric Hegemony nationalized transport KDY-442-A74F, the Humbolt, calling free trader Mariposa. Hello, Miss, uh ... Miss Cherinise? Did I pronounce that right? Just as per standard procedure we're giving you a redundant warning that we're going to fire up the big atomic flashlight in 600 seconds. Please acknowledge."

Mariposa and Humbolt were almost seven light seconds apart at this point; far enough apart for light lag to noticeably influence conversation. I could have fired up the subspace radio, but Humbolt hadn't bothered, and I wasn't going to spend power on it if they weren't.

I sent back, "This is free trader Mariposa, I understand and acknowledge your message. I see we have the same destination. Does that make this a race? Seems to be going pretty well for me so far if so; I left after you and I'm already ahead of you."

I couldn't resist the dig, even though I knew it was lame and wasn't even an effective one, it just drew attention to my own weakness. I made it sound happy, like I was joking and saying something to have an excuse to talk to somebody for a few minutes.

The voice from the Humbolt said back, "You'd lose. Might want to make sure any un-hardened electronics are protected before we fire the big rocket, and maybe put your fuel tank between your crew and cargo compartments and us, just to be extra safe. You should be OK at that distance, but it's gonna be some real Manhattan Project hours out here when we fire. KDY-442-A74F over and out."

I said back, "Mariposa's been in battles and flare star megaflares and I've had to navigate more than one particularly nasty gas giant and brown dwarf magnetosphere. My ship's built tough, I'll be fine. Free trader Mariposa, over and out."

For some minutes Mariposa and Humbolt fell up away from Cordillera's sun, glowing only with the warmth of life support and radar and power reactor standby power and cargo environment maintenance. Then Humbolt's main rocket fired.

Mariposa can do 4 G at a steady burn, more in a sprint. The big limit is my own tolerance. Compared to Mariposa's muscular rocket, Humbolt's great rocket is weak in thrust. It imparts the gentlest of pushes. Humbolt's great radiator wings soon sizzle with heat at a fifth of a G. It ejects less than 200 kilograms of fuel per second, for a ship that masses hundreds of thousands of tons fueled and loaded. It's built for fuel efficiency, endurance, not thrust. The big rocket fires continuously for more than two weeks, compared to Mariposa's 22 hour 1.2 G burn.

And that efficiency implies its own sort of power. That 200 kilograms flies out of the rocket nozzle at more than two percent the speed of light. Humbolt's big rocket is a butterfly's sigh in terms of thrust, but in terms of energy it's a nuclear bomb that explodes continuously for more than two weeks. Ships like Humbolt have to maneuver near planets using weaker secondary orbital rockets because of the damage that storm of radiation and high-velocity charged particles might do. Alerts squawked nervously as Humbolt became a dark speck at the end a brilliant comet of charged particles and radiation thousands of kilometers long, the brightest thing in Mariposa's sky except for the local sun.

Mariposa uses not a lot of energy to eject a lot of fuel not very fast. This gives it the thrust to blast off the surface of a world. It's like one of those gasoline-powered SUVs you see on a lot of low-population worlds with big stretches of hostile terrain; go anywhere no matter how bad the road, power over rocks and through sucking mud puddles. But it's like an SUV; it guzzles fuel. And fuel-guzzling, in space, ultimately means slow. Humbolt uses terawatts of energy to eject a little fuel very fast, and this makes it fuel-efficient, and fuel-efficient in space ultimately means fast.

The man was right. If it's a race, Mariposa will lose, I'll lose. Humbolt will reach the hyperlimit of Cordillera's system in a little over a month, reach Hyannis in a little over two months, well ahead of me. And with ships like Humbolt the Hegemony can charge shipping prices half of the minimum I can charge to stay in business and come out with a 20% profit. And they can ship high-bulk goods that are just out of reach for me. Mariposa is a flying fuel tank with an engine and a crew quarter and a cargo compartment attached, stuffed into something shaped like a delta-winged aircraft. Humbolt gets almost three times my delta V while being less than half fuel by mass.

Free traders like me kept trade flowing through the age of fragmentation and economic contraction after the disintegration of the Terran Empire. Our tough versatile little blast off from anywhere land anywhere rockets were just what human space needed back then. But it's getting tough for somebody like me to stay in business nowadays.

[mst3kproject]

Beast from Haunted Cave

I’ve actually received a couple of requests for movies to review, and I am looking into them.  I just have a few others I want to get through first… like this one.

Beast from Haunted Cave begins with a familiar tune – over the credits we hear the same jumpy ‘suspense’ music that opened both Night of the Blood Beast and Attack of the Giant Leeches.  It seems to have been a favourite of Gene Corman (Roger’s brother), who produced all three movies.  The writer, furthermore, was Charles B. Griffith, who did the same job for half a dozen MST3K movies, including It Conquered the World, Gunslinger, and Wizards of the Lost Kingdom II.  Finally, Beast from Haunted Cave has the strange distinction of being the only movie I’ve ever seen that thanks ‘the people of South Dakota’.

A master criminal and his drunk, stupid henchmen (one of whom is a drunk, stupid henchwoman) have decided to rob a mining operation.  In the process they annoy some kind of giant bug monster that was living in the mine, and it stalks them and their guide through the wintery mountains until they reach a cabin where they hole up to wait out a blizzard. Between the monster lurking outside and the fact that the gang are all getting fed up being stuck indoors and starting to hate each other (a familiar scenario in 2020), it’s a good bet that no more than two of them are getting out alive.  Probably the henchwoman and the guide, since they were kissing earlier.

Beast from Haunted Cave is a typically cheap Corman production.  The familiar music persists through the entire film, and gives the same impression it did in Blood Beast – the soundtrack people were given a set of pre-existing pieces and did what they could with them.  A terrible winter storm is represented by howling wind noises, but it never actually snows.  The monster is dreadful.  The webs draped over everything demonstrate that it’s a spider, but all we actually see is a featureless head and a couple of flailing arms that resemble nothing so much as one of those inflatable tube men at a used car lot.  When all we’re seeing is one leg reaching out to grab people it’s not awful, but as soon as we get a good look at the whole creature it’s clear that this is some kind of repurposed Hallowe’en decoration.  The gold bricks the thieves came to steal are just… well, bricks painted gold.  The paint isn’t even shiny.

Outside of that, however, the movie isn’t really that bad.  Everybody on the crew seems to have known what they were doing, and did their best to work within their meagre budget.  The photography is surprisingly competent.  The lighting rarely qualifies as atmospheric but there’s always enough of it – even in scenes set at night or in a dark cave, I never found myself squinting and wondering what’s going on.  The snowy landscapes are shot on location and look suitably hostile (although they could often only do one take, since after that the snow wouldn’t look pristine anymore).  You can see the actors’ breath, which gives a visceral sense of the cold.  The writing is mostly just serviceable but every so often there’s a little gem tucked within it.

The two places where this shows best are in the character of Marty and in the relationship between the mastermind, Alex, and the henchwoman, Gypsy.  Marty is a drunken buffoon but there’s more to him than that.  Early in the film he invites a cocktail waitress from the ski lodge, Natalie, to make out in a cave with him.  They disturb the monster, and Marty escapes but leaves Natalie behind.  For the rest of the film, even as he continues to be a drunken buffoon, it’s clearly eating him up that he abandoned this woman.  There’s an ambiguous moment when he finds Natalie’s still-living body webbed to a tree in the middle of the woods – perhaps it really happened, or maybe he’s having a nightmare.

Gypsy has clearly been working for Alex for some time, as secretary, girlfriend, and as a way of distracting the targets of his robberies. She’s an alcoholic sad sack who looks ten years older than her stated age of twenty-six, and clearly regrets her self-destructive life.  She cannot leave, however, because Alex is controlling and violent, and because she wouldn’t know what she wants or who she is without him.  When he beats her up for kissing Gil the guide, she later says Alex had a perfect right to slap me.  At the same time, the film hints of happier times between the two in a running gag, never explained, where Alex and Gypsy call each other ‘Charles’.  This seems to have once been an endearment, but is now a passive-aggressive insult.

One character whom I wish had done more is Gil’s housekeeper, Small Dove.  She rarely speaks, but she carries an axe and spends a lot of time judgmentally watching the stupid white people.  She could have been this movie’s Eulabelle, but she ends up getting eaten by the monster without ever doing anything badass.  Shame.

Let us now return to a familiar question: who is the main character in this movie?

I guess Gil is the ‘hero’.  He’s the hunky male lead, who gets the girl at the end. He never does much to further the plot, though, except for urging Gypsy to leave Alex and figure out how to lead her own life. Although she seems romantically interested in him, Gil may not return the sentiment – it’s hard to say.  He doesn’t kill the monster, Marty actually does that by setting it on fire with a flare gun.  Gil is just sort of there, a cardboard cut-out in the ‘handsome guy’ box all movies must have.

Gypsy has a much better claim on the protagonist role.  The script takes much more interest in her situation than in anybody else’s, and we are encouraged to sympathize with her feeling lost and trapped.  She survives at the end to run off with Gil, though we’re not given any indication of what they’ll do now or whether the budding relationship between them will last.  Like so many other movies of its era, Beast from Haunted Cave has no denouement.  We simply fade to black from the monster on fire (another thing they could only do once, since they actually burned the prop).

Gil is the one who describes the cave as ‘haunted’, but this never has anything to do with the story.  There is not even a hint of a ghost or even a ghost story connected with the cave.  I assume the word is in the title mostly because Beast from Cave sounds like a dinosaurs-and-cavemen movie made by the cavemen, and having put it there, Griffith felt he had to justify it with a line of dialogue.

The character who had the most potential to go through an arc is actually the antagonist, Alex.  He’s been pulling heists like this for years, and is proud of his success.  He has no reason to think this job will be any different, and yet as the movie progresses, Alex has to watch his plans fall apart all around him.  One of his henchmen is going mad from terror and guilt.  The other, Byron (who you can tell apart from Marty because Byron is The One In The Stupid Hat), is developing a crush on Small Dove and thinking about getting out of crime and settling down.  Gypsy is kissing Gil right in front of him, and Alex worries what she might have told him about the real purpose of the ski trip.  Then there’s the storm, which means the plane that was supposed to take them to Canada can’t get to them, and the lurking monster.  At the end of the film, Alex is still trying to regain control of the situation, even as the monster closes in on him.

Criminals on the run getting menaced by a monster seems to be a surprisingly common plot for a movie.  Voodoo Woman and Killer Fish were both variants on the theme.  I’m guessing this serves two purposes within the plot: the first is that it means we’re not too sad when the main characters die, since they were already bad people.  The second is what I think Beast from Haunted Cave was going for – it means that the characters cannot ask for help with their situation.  The group know, from hearing it on the radio, that they’re being hunted by the authorities.  If they were to call for help, whoever came to the rescue would find the gold bars in their bags, and they’d go straight to prison.

This idea is mostly implied.  Nobody ever actually suggests calling for help, or even trying to contact the people who were gonna be flying their getaway plane.  It also seems that they had no contingency plan for bad weather, which makes the whole operation look very poorly-planned.

One thing I did find myself thinking about is that the radio news mentions the police looking into the theft, but we never actually see the cops investigating.  This applies to the other movies I mentioned above, as well… in Voodoo Woman we’re in an area that doesn’t seem to have much by way of police, but in Killer Fish, too, law enforcement is entirely absent. This is a good choice on the part of the writers and directors, because it allows us to focus on the monster plot. If they were to include detectives, that would unnecessarily complicate things and require a resolution of its own.

Then again, if they had two resolutions, they might have had to include some ‘wind-down’ time.  I don’t like it when movies end abruptly after the monster dies, because it tends to leave dangling subplots.  Gil and Gypsy are still in the middle of nowhere, and must now shelter in the cave until the storm ends.  Are they going to be okay?  Last time we saw Small Dove she was weakened from blood loss but not yet quite dead.  Can they save her?  Will Gil and Gypsy stay together, or will he encourage her to go find herself? So there’s another lesson for aspiring film-makers: don’t end your movie until the story’s actually over.

[amarits]

Jason tried to settle in the uncomfortable metal chair. Whoever had designed it had put what looked like cushions on the seat and backrest as if to give it the appearance of comfort, but the cushions didn’t seem to have any actual padding. They were just pockets of air that weren’t thick enough to protect from the hard aluminum underneath. He was never going to complain about taking the jet again. Sleeping in alleys was more comfortable than this.

He scowled down at the bookbag he’d hastily packed that morning. If he’d taken the jet, he wouldn’t be sitting around at all. Layovers weren’t necessary when you made the flight plans. If he’d taken the jet, Bruce or Alfred or even Dick would be with him instead of him being stuck replaying arguments in his head. But if he’d been in the position to take the jet, he wouldn’t be doing this in the first place. Probably wouldn’t be doing this.

Christ, he didn’t even know anymore. He buried his face in his arms, his knees pressed to his chest. It had been such a bad month. No, two months. It had been over two months since he’d told Bruce about Chirp and everything had gone to hell.

It wasn’t even fighting; it was this constant tension, a heaviness of guilt and blame and doubt that was making it hard to breathe. He’d gone back to Crime Alley to escape it for an hour, to try to remember who he was and how much he’d survived. To remind himself that he’d survive this too.

And then he’d run into a neighbor who’d saved a box of old stuff from their apartment. Some pictures, a few report cards, and a smudged birth certificate with the wrong name. He thought about the S at the beginning of his mom’s name, the only visible letter. Of the women in his father’s address book. Three potential mothers halfway across the world.

What was he doing? This was so stupid. None of his other parents had been that great. What made him think the one who’d never even bothered to be in his life in the first place would be any better?

He wondered if Bruce had noticed he was missing yet.

He looked out the wall of windows at a plane driving across the tarmac. From here, he couldn’t even tell he’d left the country. It looked like every tarmac at every airport across the world. He could still turn around and go home.

But this wasn’t Gotham; it was Zurich. By the time he could get home, everyone would know he’d been gone. There would be arguments, accusations, even more being grounded. If he was going to have to deal with all that anyway, he might as well let this play out first and see where it led.

His phone rang. Here we go, he thought. Time for the yelling.

It took him a few seconds to fish the phone out of his pocket, around his keys, the small address book he was keeping close, and the snacks he’d grabbed for the trip. He was so deep in debating whether or not he was going to answer Bruce and how he was going to answer if he did, that he almost accepted the call before he realized the Caller ID was blank. Not even a phone number. Fucking spammers.

He took a breath to slow his heart rate, and stared out at the plane pulling into their gate. He’d be on it soon, on his way to Israel. This was better. He shouldn’t answer when Bruce called anyway. After all, Bruce had the jet. He’d be able to intercept Jason and take him home before he even managed to reach his first potential mom.

The phone rang again. He glanced down at it, expecting it to be the same spammer. This time, the Caller ID said, “CHIRP” in all capital letters. Just that. Chirp.

He stared at it, not immediately understanding. Why would Chirp be calling him? Why would Chirp be calling Jason him? He wasn’t Robin right now. How did Chirp even have his number?

Of course Chirp had his number. Chirp could access anything digital. He was tracking them, watching them through the cameras. He…

...knew who they were.

It was obvious the moment he thought it. How could Chirp not know who they were? How could they hide their identities from someone who could see everything?

He hunched down in his chair, jacket collar rising around his ears, and answered with a deep, “Hello?”

“What are you doing?” the familiar, too young voice asked.

“Why is it any of your business?” he shot back.

The line went completely silent. He’d never really noticed on the comms how Chirp’s audio didn’t have any background noise, but the lack of ambient sounds was obvious on a phone. It sounded unnatural.

“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Chirp said, tiptoeing through the words one hesitant syllable at a time. Jason used to think Chirp was practically an all-knowing entity, on par with Batman, but now he sounded so uncertain.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, opening his mouth to apologize. He shouldn’t take his anger out on Chirp. He was just…

His mouth snapped shut. No, you know what? He had the right to be mad. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for Chirp. Bruce would still trust him. The manor, which had started to feel like home, wouldn’t have become suffocating. He would still have his life. Maybe Chirp wasn’t the Copycat, but that didn’t make him Jason’s friend.

He almost hung up right then and there, but Chirp spoke, his voice slow and quiet, like he was trying to calm a snarling stray. It only made him angrier. He wasn’t an animal with irrational feelings that needed to be soothed.

“Is something wrong?” Chirp asked.

“Everything’s fine,” he spat. “Why? You gonna tell Batman on me? He doesn’t even like you.” The words tumbled out before he knew what he was saying.

He could hear the answering silence like a gasp. He shouldn’t have said that; he’d only done it to be mean. But it was true. Bruce had always been against Chirp.

“I’m not going to tell on you,” Chirp said, stumbling over the words. His voice reminded Jason of the scared kids he’d known on the streets, the ones he’d wanted to protect.

Manipulative, he thought. That’s why he sounds like a child.

Or he was a child. Jason didn’t know anymore. He trusted Chirp, but he didn’t trust Chirp, and it was all jumbled in his brain. He didn’t want to be taken advantage of. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He just wanted Chirp to go away.

“Just, be careful, okay?” Chirp said, starting to ramble in the face of Jason’s silence. “Call me if you need back up.”

With what phone number? Jason thought. Chirp hadn’t even been reliably on the comms lately, and they were going to be half a day apart.

“Actually,” Chirp said, seeming to realize the same thing and laughing nervously to himself. “I’ll program something. Just, uh, say my name. I’ll set up an alert. If you say my name, I’ll know.”

Jesus. Like everything Chirp did, it was one minor chord away from being full-on horror movie, but he was pretty sure Chirp was just trying to help. Probably.

“Fine,” he said. “I’m going to go back to being by myself and not monitored, okay?”

Chirp was quiet long enough to make it clear that request was gonna be ignored, but he finally said, “Okay.”

Jason hung up instead of pushing it. He held the phone in his lap, knuckles white around the dark red case. A few feet away, the flight attendant started calling for passengers in five languages. It didn’t look like Bruce was going to call before his next flight. He should probably be relieved, but it just left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Chirp noticed he was gone before his… before the person who was supposed to be his dad did. Figured.

He turned the phone off as his group was called. In four hours, he’d be in Israel. Bruce would have another chance to yell at him then. If he cared enough to try.

Read more on AO3

[baddadjokez]

514 Dad Jokes

What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.​I would avoid the sushi if I was you. It’s a little fishy.��Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind it’s tearable.​Why did the cookie cry? Because his father was a wafer so long!​I used to work in a shoe recycling shop. It was sole destroying.​What do you call a belt with a watch on it? A waist of time.​How do you organize an outer space party? You planet.​I went to a seafood disco last week... and pulled a mussel.​Do you know where you can get chicken broth in bulk? The stock market.​I cut my finger chopping cheese, but I think that I may have greater problems.​My cat was just sick on the carpet, I don’t think it’s feline well.​Why did the octopus beat the shark in a fight? Because it was well armed.​How much does a hipster weigh? An instagram.​What did daddy spider say to baby spider? You spend too much time on the web.​Atheism is a non-prophet organisation.​There’s a new type of broom out, it’s sweeping the nation.​What cheese can never be yours? Nacho cheese.​What did the Buffalo say to his little boy when he dropped him off at school? Bison.​Have you ever heard of a music group called Cellophane? They mostly wrap.​Why does Superman gets invited to dinners? Because he is a Supperhero.​How was Rome split in two? With a pair of Ceasars.​The shovel was a ground breaking invention.​A scarecrow says, "This job isn't for everyone, but hay, it's in my jeans."​A Buddhist walks up to a hot dog stand and says, "Make me one with everything."​Did you hear about the guy who lost the left side of his body? He's alright now.​What do you call a girl with one leg that's shorter than the other? Ilene.​I did a theatrical performance on puns. It was a play on words.​What do you do with a dead chemist? You barium.​I bet the person who created the door knocker won a Nobel prize.​Towels can’t tell jokes. They have a dry sense of humor.​Two birds are sitting on a perch and one says "Do you smell fish?"​Do you know sign language? You should learn it, it’s pretty handy.​What do you call a beautiful pumpkin? GOURDgeous.​Why did one banana spy on the other? Because she was appealing.​What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.​What do you call a cow with two legs? Lean beef.​What do you call a cow with all of its legs? High steaks.​A cross eyed teacher couldn’t control his pupils.​After the accident, the juggler didn’t have the balls to do it.​I used to be afraid of hurdles, but I got over it.​To write with a broken pencil is pointless.​I read a book on anti-gravity. I couldn’t put it down.​I couldn’t remember how to throw a boomerang but it came back to me.​What should you do if you are cold? Stand in the corner. It’s 90 degrees.​How does Moses make coffee? Hebrews it.​The energizer bunny went to jail. He was charged with battery.​What did the alien say to the pitcher of water? Take me to your liter.​What happens when you eat too many spaghettiOs? You have a vowel movement.​The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray was a seasoned veteran.​Sausage puns are the wurst.​What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear.​Why shouldn’t you trust atoms? They make up everything.​What’s it called when you have too many aliens? Extraterrestrials.​Want to hear a pizza joke? Nevermind, it’s too cheesy.​What do cows tell each other at bedtime? Dairy tales.​Why can’t you take inventory in Afghanistan? Because of the tally ban.​Why didn’t the lion win the race? Because he was racing a cheetah.​What happens to nitrogen when the sun comes up? It becomes daytrogen.​What’s it called when you put a cow in an elevator? Raising the steaks.​What’s america’s favorite soda? Mini soda.​Why did the tomato turn red? Because it saw the salad dressing.​What kind of car does a sheep drive? Their SuBAHHru.​What do you call a french pig? Porque.​What do you call a line of rabbits marching backwards? A receding hairline.​Why don’t vampires go to barbecues? They don’t like steak.​How do trees access the internet? They log on.​Why should you never trust a train? They have loco motives.​Is your refrigerator running? Better go catch it.​The future,the present and the past walked into a bar.Things got a little tense.​I saw an ad for burial plots, and thought to myself this is the last thing I need.​I just found out I'm colorblind. The diagnosis came completely out of the purple.​I'd tell you a chemistry joke but I know I wouldn't get a reaction.​Have you ever tried to eat a clock? It's very time consuming.​I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me.​Read enough of our funny puns, and you'll be punstoppable.​Yesterday a clown held the door for me. It was a nice jester.​I used to go fishing with Skrillex but he kept dropping the bass.​The wedding was so emotional even the cake was in tiers.​What does a house wear? A dress.​Why can't bicycles stand up on their own? Since they are 2 tired.​I owe a lot to the sidewalks. They’ve been keeping me off the streets for years.​Imagine if alarm clocks hit you back in the morning.It would be truly alarming.​Why is a skeleton a bad liar? You can see right through it.​What do you receive when you ask a lemon for help? Lemonaid.​A man sued an airline company after it lost his luggage. Sadly, he lost his case.​What does a dog say when he sits down on a piece of sandpaper? Ruff!​What do you call crystal clear urine? 1080pee.​At my boxing club there is only one punch bag. I hate waiting for the punch line!​An untalented gymast walks into a bar.​Einstein developed a theory about space, and it was about time too.​I was accused of being a plagiarist, their word not mine.​My friends say they don’t like skeleton puns. I should put more backbone into them.​Let me FILL you in on my trip to the dentist.​Why does the singer of Cheap Thrills not want us to Sia?​Traveling on a flying carpet is a rugged experience.​Cartoonist found dead in home. Details are sketchy.​The old woman who lived in a shoe wasn’t the sole owner,there were strings attached.​Did you hear about the crime in the parking garage? It was wrong on so many levels.​My new diet consists of aircraft, its a bit plane.​Have you ever tried to milk a cow which has been cut in half? Udder madness.​Why are there fences on graveyards? Because people are dying to get in.​Why do trees have so many friends? They branch out.​Models of dragons are not to scale.​Never discuss infinity with a mathematician, they can go on about it forever.​Why don’t some couples go to the gym? Because some relationships don’t work out.​Don’t trust people that do acupuncture, they’re back stabbers.​A persistent banker wouldn’t stop hitting on me so I asked him to leave me a loan.​I ordered a book of puns last week, but i didn't get it.​People say i look better without glasses but i just can't see it.​Don’t judge a meal by the look of the first course. It’s very souperficial.​I heard Donald Trump is going to ban shredded cheese, and make America grate again.​I relish the fact that you’ve mustard the strength to ketchup to me.​What do you call a young musician? A minor.​Police were called to a daycare yesterday, where a 2-year-old was resisting a rest.​If artists wear sketchers do linguists wear converse?​I changed my iPod name to Titanic. It’s syncing now.​Jill broke her finger today, but on the other hand she was completely fine.​I smeared some ketchup all over my eyes once. It was a bad idea in Heinz- sight.​I flipped a coin over an issue the other day, it was quite the toss-up.​I got hit in the head with a can of soda? Luckily it was a soft drink.​I heard that the post office was a male dominated industry.​Why isn’t suntanning an Olympic sport? Because the best you can ever get is bronze.​What do you mean June is over? Julying.​Why is Kylo Ren so angry? Beause he’s always Ben Solo.​These reversing cameras are great. Since I got one I haven’t looked back.​The candle quit his job because he felt burned out.​Our maintenance guy lost his legs on the job, now he’s just a handyman.​Going to bed with music on gave him sound sleep.​A magic tractor drove down the road and turned into a field!​I met some aliens from outer space. They were pretty down to earth.​The plane flight brought my acrophobia to new heights.​My phone has to wear glasses ever since it lost its contacts.​I, for one, like Roman numerals.​How do mountains see? They peak.​The show was called Spongebob Squarepants but everyone knows the star was Patrick.​This is not alcohol, water you thinking?!​Novice pirates make terrible singers because they can’t hit the high seas.​I told my friend she drew her eyebrows too high. She seemed surprised.​The earth's rotation really makes my day.​If I buy a bigger bed will I have more or less bedroom?​Two peanuts were walking in a tough neighborhood and one of them was a-salted.​Two ropes were walking in a tough neighborhood and one of them was a-frayed.​What kind of shoes do ninjas wear? Sneakers.​I got a master’s degree in being ignored; no one seems to care.​After eating the ship, the sea monster said, I can’t believe I ate the hull thing.​Smaller babies may be delivered by stork but the heavier ones need a crane.​A bartender broke up with her boyfriend, but he kept asking her for another shot.​I had a pun about insanity but then I lost it.​He couldn’t work out how to fix the washing machine so he threw in the towel.​Why does the man want to buy nine rackets? Cause tennis too many.​Why don’t cannibals eat clowns? Because they taste funny.​If I got paid in lots of Pennes I would make loads of pasta.​I thought I saw a spider on my laptop, but my friend said it was just a bug.​A doctor broke his leg while auditioning for a play.Luckily he still made the cast.​The tale of the haunted refrigerator was chilling.​Why are frogs so happy? They eat whatever bugs them.​If you wear cowboy clothes are you ranch dressing?​I was addicted to the hokey pokey but I turned myself around.​Simba, you're falling behind. I must ask you to Mufasa.​I bought a wooden whistle but it wooden whistle.​The bomb didn't want to go off. So it refused.​The sore mummy needed a Cairo-practor​I feel sorry for shopping carts. They’re always getting pushed around.​The display of still-life art was not at all moving!​On Halloween October is nearly Octover.​Pig puns are so boaring.​Why couldn’t the dead car drive into the cluttered garage? Lack of vroom.​What do you call Samsung's security guards? Guardians of the Galaxy.​What does Superman have in his drink? Just ice.​How does a penguin build it’s house? Igloos it together.​Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.​The safe was invented by a cop and a robber. It was quite a combination.​What do you do when balloons are hurt? You helium.​One hat says to the other, "You stay here, I’ll go on a head."​How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh? Ten tickles.​When does a farmer dance? When he drops the beet.​When the scientist wanted to clone a deer, he bought a doe it yourself kit.​If people ask how many puns I made in Germany I reply, "nein"​Did you hear about the invention of the white board? It was remarkable.​If Donald Trump becomes president, America is going toupee.​Can February March? No, but April May.​I hate Russian Dolls, they are so full of themselves.​What do you do to an open wardrobe? You closet.​The magazine about ceiling fans went out of business due to low circulation.​So what if I don’t know what apocalypse means? It’s not the end of the world!​Some aquatic mammals at the zoo escaped. It was otter chaos.​A backwards poem writes inverse.​Getting the ability to fly would be so uplifting.​I asked my friend, Nick, if he had 5 cents I could borrow. But he was Nicholas.​The soundtrack for Blackfish was orcastrated.​Where do you imprison a skeleton? In a rib cage.​There’s a fine line between the numerator and the denominator.​I used to work at a hairdresser but i just wasn’t cut out for it.​Why is metal and a microwave a match made in heaven? When they met, sparks flew.​The lumberjack loved his new computer. He especially enjoyed logging in.​Garbage collectors are rubbish drivers!​When the church relocated it had an organ transplant.​Lettuce take a moment to appreciate this salad pun.​The scarecrow get promoted because he was outstanding in his field.​Sleeping comes so naturally to me, I could do it with my eyes closed.​I never understood odorless chemicals, they never make scents.​What do prisoners use to call each other? Cell phones.​Why was dumbo sad? He felt irrelephant.​When a clock is hungry, it goes back four seconds.​Old skiers never die. They just go down hill.​Did you hear about the pun that was actually funny? Neither have we.​You know why I like egg puns? They crack me up!​Want to hear a pun about ghosts? That's the spirit!​I used to make clown shoes… which was no small feat.​Did you hear about the human cannonball? Too bad he got fired!​What happened when the magician got mad? She pulled her hare out!​Did you hear about the circus that caught on fire? It was in tents.​The one day of the week that eggs are definitely afraid of is Fry-day.​A hen will always leave her house through the proper eggs-it.​The man who ate too many eggs was considered to be an egg-oholic.​All the hens consider the chef to be very mean because he beats the eggs.​Eskimos keep all of their chilled eggs inside of the egg-loo.​Under the doctor’s advice, the hen is laying off eggs for a few weeks.​I had a real problem making a hard-boiled egg this morning until I cracked it.​The best time of day to eat eggs is at the crack of dawn.​The chicken coop only had 2 doors since if it had 4 doors it would be a sedan.​Crossing a cement mixer and a chicken will result in you getting a brick layer.​That reckless little egg always seems to egg-celerate when he sees the light turn yellow.​Hopefully this egg pun doesn't make your brain too fried or scrambled.​Don't ever have multiple people wash dishes together. It's hard for them to stay in sink.​People using umbrellas always seem to be under the weather.​I dissected an iris today. It was an eye-opening experience.​What was Forrest Gump’s email password? 1forrest1.​What planet is like a circus? Saturn, it has three rings!​Before my father died he worked in a circus as a stilt walker. I used to look up to him.​Why did the lion eat the tightrope walker? He wanted a well-balanced meal!​I really look up to my tall friends.​I hate negative numbers and will stop at nothing to avoid them.​Long fairy tales have a tendency to dragon.​It takes guts to make a sausage.​Why shouldn’t you give Elsa a balloon? Because she’ll “Let It Go”!​What do you call cheese that’s not yours? Nacho cheese!​How do you make a tissue dance? Put a little boogie in it​What do you get when a witch goes to the beach? A sand-witch!​Where do cows go on Friday nights? To the mooooo-vies!​What did the mommy tomato say to the baby tomato? C’mon, ketchup!​Why did the banana go to the doctor? Because he wasn’t “peeling” well!​What did one snowman say to the other? Do you smell carrots?​Why didn’t the skeleton go to the dance? Because he had no body to go with!​What is a pirate’s favorite letter? Arrrrrr!​What does a piece of toast wear to bed? His pa-JAM-as!​What does one eye say to the other eye? Something between us smells​Why did the chicken cross the playground? To get to the other slide!​What happens when an egg laughs? It cracks up!​What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear!​Why didn’t the teddy bear want dessert? Because he was stuffed!​Why can’t you tell a joke while ice skating? Because the ice might crack up!​What do you call a pig that knows karate? A pork chop!​What’s mommy and daddy’s favorite ride at the carnival? A married-go-round!​How did Cookie Monster feel after eating all the cookies? Pretty crummy!​What do you call a skunk who flies in a helicopter? A smelly-copter!​What do you get when you shake a cow? A milkshake!​How do you catch a squirrel? Climb up a tree and act like a nut!​Why did the bee get married? Because she found her honey!​What did the ocean say to their airplane? Nothing, it just waved!​Where do eskimo pigs live? In pig-loos.​What’s a dinosaur called when it’s sleeping? A dino-snore!​What did the cookie say to the annoying cookie? Crumb on!​Why did Mickey Mouse go up in space? To find Pluto!​What does Olaf eat for lunch? Icebergers!​What letter is always wet? The C!​How do you throw a space party? You planet.​How was Rome split in two? With a pair of Ceasars.​Nope. Unintended.​The shovel was a ground breaking invention, but everyone was blow away by the leaf blower.​A scarecrow says, "This job isn't for everyone, but hay, it's in my jeans."​A Buddhist walks up to a hot dog stand and says "Make me one with everything."​Did you hear about the guy who lost the left side of his body? He's alright now.​What do you call a girl with one leg that's shorter than the other? Ilene.​The broom swept the nation away.​I did a theatrical performance on puns. It was a play on words.​What does a clock do when it's hungry? It goes back for seconds.​What do you do with a dead chemist? You barium.​I bet the person who created the door knocker won a Nobel prize.​Towels can’t tell jokes. They have a dry sense of humor.​Two birds are sitting on a perch and one says “Do you smell fish?”​Did you hear about the cheese factory that exploded in france? There was nothing but des brie.​Do you know sign language? You should learn it, it’s pretty handy.​What do you call a beautiful pumpkin? GOURDgeous.​Why did one banana spy on the other? Because she was appealing.​What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.​What do you call a cow with two legs? Lean beef.​What do you call a cow with all of its legs? High steaks.​A cross eyed teacher couldn’t control his pupils.​After the accident, the juggler didn’t have the balls to do it.​I used to be afraid of hurdles, but I got over it.​To write with a broken pencil is pointless.​I read a book on anti-gravity. I couldn’t put it down.​I couldn’t remember how to throw a boomerang but it came back to me.​What did the buffalo say to his son? Bison.​What should you do if you’re cold? Stand in the corner. It’s 90 degrees.​How does Moses make coffee? Hebrews it.​The energizer bunny went to jail. He was charged with battery.​What did the alien say to the pitcher of water? Take me to your liter.​What happens when you eat too many spaghettiOs? You have a vowel movement.​The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray was a seasoned veteran.​Sausage puns are the wurst.​What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear.​How did Darth Vader know what luke was getting him for his birthday? He could sense his presence.​Why shouldn’t you trust atoms? They make up everything.​What’s the difference between a bench, a fish, and a bucket of glue? You can’t tune a bench but you can tuna fish. I bet you got stuck on the bucket of glue part.​What’s it called when you have too many aliens? Extraterrestrials.​Want to hear a pizza joke? Nevermind, it’s too cheesy.​What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta.​What do cows tell each other at bedtime? Dairy tales.​Why can’t you take inventory in Afghanistan? Because of the tally ban.​Why didn’t the lion win the race? Because he was racing a cheetah.​Why did the man dig a hole in his neighbor’s backyard and fill it with water? Because he meant well.​What happens to nitrogen when the sun comes up? It becomes daytrogen.​What’s it called when you put a cow in an elevator? Raising the steaks.​What’s america’s favorite soda? Mini soda.​Why did the tomato turn red? Because it saw the salad dressing.​What kind of car does a sheep drive? A lamborghini, but if that breaks down they drive their SuBAHHru.

[thecleverdame]

Control and Release - 7

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: With the rest of the staff caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification,  mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, dub-con, nipple clamps,(more warnings as the story continues)  

Words: 3.2k

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Parts Eight and Nine are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

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“You made it!” Max claps his hands together.

“Yeah,” you smile walking toward the table. Half the bar is filled with the staff from W & S.  

He’s clearing off a chair for you next to him, directly across from Pepper who looks like she’s already had a few.

“What is she doing here?” Pepper groans.

“Play nice, Pep. We’re all friends.” Max gives you a shit-eating grin, pulling the chair for you.

“The last thing I need is her running to the boss, tattling about how his assistant complains about him.” She looks from you to Max.

“I’m not a snitch.” You settle in as Max pours half his beer into an empty water glass and slides it front of you.

“We’ll see.” Pepper purses her lips, giving you a once over. “Sam has a way of turning people on each other. Everyone needs to survive in the end.”

“He can’t be that bad.” Max rolls his eyes.

“Ask Y/N,” Pepper scoffs, sitting back in her chair. “She’s in tears every time she leaves his office.”

You want to melt into the floor.

“I, um, he’s just-” you sputter, searching for the right words. “Sometimes he gets a little...intense.”

“That’s one word for it.” Pepper snorts, martini sloshing over the edges of the glass. “You know,” she points at you, “I have a theory about what he’s got you doing.”

“Oh yeah?” You’re just about done with tonight and you only just arrived. You thought this might be fun but instead it’s an exercise in hiding your reactions. Not to mention Max failed to mention your sworn nemesis would be here.

“Internal employee audit.” She nods. “He’s got you keeping track of something across departments. If I had to guess I’d say he’s looking for something. Maybe...a mole? A leak?”

“Are you spying on us?” Max laughs, placing a hand on your back.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it.” You look around for a waitress, you’re going to need a stronger drink.

“Give us something.” Max shakes the back of your chair.

“I don’t do many things well, but I can keep a secret with the best of them.”

“Hey Pepper,” Doug chimes in from the other side of Max. “Does Winchester ever talked about his brother?”

“His brother?” Your interest is peaked.

“You don’t know about Dean?” Pepper cocks her head. “Sam’s brother is on the FBI’s ten most wanted list.”

“For what?” You’re flabbergasted, you guessed there were some dark secrets in Sam’s past but you didn’t expect a fugitive to be one of them.

“Murder, kidnapping, robbery, you name it.” Pepper shrugs, fishing an olive out of the bottom of her glass. “Every once in a while an agent shows up at the office to ask him questions.”

“Here.” Max pulls out his phone, pulling up the information. “Dean Winchester, unlawful flight to avoid prosecution. Wanted on five counts of murder, one count of kidnapping...where’s the good stuff - here we go -  grave desecration, impersonating a federal officer, torture...the list goes on. The guy is a real piece of work.”

“Wow.” You take the phone from Max to look at a photo of a handsome guy in an orange jumpsuit. “That’s crazy. Sam’s been so successful and his brother is...this.”

“I guess their dad was some crazy, backwoods survivalist type. His mom died when he was a baby.” Pepper nods. “The story goes that Sam got as far away from his dad as he could. Got himself into Stanford. His senior year Dean showed up and killed Sam’s girlfriend. Burned the whole apartment building down with her inside.”

“Are you serious?” You’re horrified, looking from Pepper to Max. “His brother killed his girlfriend? Why?”

“I guess Dean wanted Sam to ditch school and go with him and their dad.  When Sam refused, Dean went off the deep end.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe, handing Max’s phone back to him.

“That’s why he’s so uptight about everything. The man is brilliant but he’s fucked in the head.” Pepper raises her hand to find a server. “I need another drink.”

--

“Really, I’m fine.” You stop in front of your apartment building. Max insisted on walking you home for safety but you get the distinct impression he expects to be invited up.

“There could be creeps out here.” He shrugs, looking at the steps of your building. “You tired? Up for a nightcap?”

“I don’t think so.” You shake your head. “It’s late and we’ve both been drinking.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” He grins, all charm and white teeth. He’s handsome and cocky, and in another lifetime you’d take him upstairs and ride him until he popped like a champagne bottle.

“No hypotheticals.” You step back and he moves forward in tandem.

“Come on,” he grins, leaning closer. “We both know we’d have a lot of fun together.”

He goes to kiss you, but you stop him with two hands on his chest. “I told you I was seeing someone. And you told me we were out tonight as just friends.”

“Seriously?” He cocks an eyebrow. “I thought you were just trying to play hard to get. Why are you out with us on a Saturday night if you’ve got a guy?”

“None of your business.” You pat him on the shoulder. “I’m going upstairs and we’re both going to forget this ever happened.”

TUESDAY

“Good morning.” Sam greets you without looking up from his tablet.

“Yes, good morning.” Pepper sneers, looking up from her laptop long enough to give you the stink eye. “Boarding begins in five minutes. You’re cutting it close.”

“I got stopped by TSA,” you explain and Sam smiles without looking up. “Random check, I had to have the hand swab and they searched my bags.”

“Early is on time.” Sam looks up at you, giving you a once over.

“And on time is late.” You parrot back. “I’m sorry Mr. Winchester, it won’t happen again.”

“Better not.” He confirms.

W & S owns two planes, both of which are in use. Sam’s not one to shake up a finely tuned system. While he could simply bump the legal team, he won’t. Schedules were solidified and this is a last minute trip, so today he’s flying Delta with all the other lowly non-millionaires.  

The first class section is separated into pods. There are a few singles and the rest are in pairs, with ample leg room and enough space to fully recline the seat if one wants to sleep.

You’re struggling to get your ticket out of your purse to check your seat number when Sam grabs your arm, thumb and forefinger pinching just above the elbow. “You’re here. The window seat.”

“Um,” You look around as if he’s the one who’s confused. “I’m in first class?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He rolls his eyes, already impatient. “Sit down.”

You take your seat, sinking into a pod large enough to hold two of you. This is how the other half lives.

“I’m up here...with you.” You state the obvious, watching as the few other people in the section find their seats.

“Yes, you are. God, I hate flying commercial.” He shudders, retrieving his computer from his briefcase. “Would you have preferred to sit in back with Pepper?”

“No, but...doesn’t it look strange that I’m up here?”

“Things look however you want them to look,” he snips, putting up a finger to call over a flight attendant. “Next time I’ll make sure you’re back in the cargo hold if that would make you more comfortable.”

“What can I get you, Mr. Winchester?” the stewardess asks, smiling sweetly.

“Two blankets, two waters,” Sam orders, turning to you as she walks away. “Stop fidgeting.”

“Sorry.” Sitting back you force your legs to stop bouncing. “I’m not the best flyer. I get nervous.”

“Lucky for you I have a few tasks to take your mind off things.” A small smile appears for a fleeting moment. “Just try to relax.”

The plane boards and the minutes tick by. While you’ve flown plenty of times it never gets any easier. And today is worse. Sam makes your senses heightened. Normally it’s just sex, but today it’s also fear that’s swimming in your belly, churning like a swell rolling toward shore.

The attendant brings Sam two thin blankets which he passes off to you.

“Thanks.” you whisper, unsure. “You think I’m going to be cold?”

“I think,” he leans in your direction, close enough that no one else will be able to hear, “that you’re going to have that skirt up around your hips and your hands between your legs for most of the flight. So unless you want the flight crew to see your pussy, you’ll want the blankets to cover up.”

“Oh.” You look towards the crew who have been stealing glances at Sam since you boarded. “But...they’re watching us.”

“This is a perfect opportunity for you to learn the true meaning of discretion.” He buckles his seat belt, wordlessly reaching over and doing the same for you. He grabs one side, then the other, sliding the clip into the buckle, tightening it around your stomach as if you were a toddler. “Now cover yourself and pull up your skirt. We’re about to take off.”

He logs onto his computer, checking his email one final time.

Carefully unfolding both blankets, you lay them over your lap, before subtly hiking your skirt up until your bare ass is directly on the seat, then fold your hands together in your lap as the plane picks up speed on the runway.

“Fuck,” you whisper, closing your eyes at the sensation of the front wheel leaving the ground.

“I think nervous flyer is an understatement.” Sam observes.

“I’m not normally this much of a baby. I was on a bad flight once,” you whisper eyes closed tight. “I was a teenager and I was flying alone. The turbulence was so bad people were crying, we all thought we were going to die.”

“Well, you’re not going to die today.” One of his big hands curls over both of yours where they’re clutched tightly in your lap.  You’re so startled by the compassionate touch that you flinch and he squeezes harder.

Slowly, the plane gains altitude and he releases your hands. Looking around carefully to make sure no one is paying attention he leans over, voice low as he murmurs into your ear.

“I want you to rub your clit for the next five minutes. Nice and slow, nothing too fast. Tell me when you’re wet.” And with that instruction, he sits back in his seat. A thrill shoots up your spine at the challenge of complying with the request.

You look around, checking to make sure no one is paying attention and snake your hand under the blankets, sliding over your pussy. It doesn’t take much movement to do as he asks, just the pad of your finger moving back and forth over your clit, slow and even. Sam pulls out his phone, starting a timer for five minutes and you think you might die of embarrassment.

It’s truly an exercise in restraint. Your jaw is locked in place, trying your best to maintain a neutral expression as your own touch begins to stir excitement between your legs. A familiar tingle blossoms from your cunt up to your belly.

It doesn’t take long, there are still two minutes on the timer when you swallow hard and lean toward Sam and whisper, “I’m wet.”

“Already?” He tilts his head to the side to look at you, pulling his glasses off. He smirks, eyes dropping down to where your hand is moving imperceptibly under the blanket. “Two more minutes, keep going.”

Instead of watching the seconds tick by you close your eyes and concentrate on keeping your face from giving away your dirty little secret. You think about Sam, how badly you want his hands on you and what new experiences will happen over the next three days. You’re here for two nights and you wonder if he’ll want you to spend all your time with him, or if he’ll send you away as soon as he’s had his fill, like the first night you touched yourself for him on his hotel bed.

“Times up.” He announces. And you take a breath, yanking your hand away. You’re pretty good at knowing how to touch yourself. He’s given you ample practice, all those mornings and nights of denial, getting yourself right to the edge are paying off. You just hope he’s not expecting you to cum, not here.

“Can I have some water, please?” You clear your throat, gesturing at the two bottles tucked into the pocket in front of him.

“Of course.” He opens the bottle, holding the cap and hands it to you. “You have ten minutes, then we go again.”

You sit stoically next to Sam as he reviews documents, unphased by the fact that you’re right there, next to him, shifting in your seat. Time ticks by and he leans over again, looking away from the screen as an afterthought.

“Five minutes, touch yourself the entire time, don’t cum.”

“I will.” You look at him, his stare sending little zaps of anticipation to every inch of you.

This time he watches you, glancing up every so often to ensure privacy. From your seat no one other than Sam can see below your neck but controlling your facial expressions is proving the hardest part of all. As your finger brushes over your clit again and again. You lock your jaw, it’s the only way to keep your mouth from falling open. At one point your eyes flutter shut, but he doesn’t like that.

“Look at me.” He commands, voice low and confident as you turn your head to look him in the eye. “We’re just two people having a conversation. No one knows otherwise.” He glances down to where your hand is moving gently under the blanket. “When’s the last time you came?”

“When I was last with you,” you confirm in a breathless whisper, pleasure steadily building.

“Did you touch yourself after that?”

“Yes, twice.”

“But you didn’t cum?” He smiles, shifting in his seat to give you his full attention. “I don’t remember giving you any homework.”

“It was so good last time.” You take a deliberate breath, pausing to control your throbbing pussy before you continue. “Making myself wait for you made it so intense when I finally came.”

“I’m glad to hear it was so good for you.” His mouth barely moves as he speaks, pressing his hand over the crotch of his pants to adjust himself. “From now on you don’t cum unless I give you explicit permission. You’re to ask every time. That wet little pussy is mine and so are your orgasms. Am I clear?”

“Yes,” you hiss, fingers slowing. Rubbing yourself is hard enough, but listening to him talk like this is almost enough to make you cum all on it’s own. “I need to stop.”

“You still have a minute left. You better not stop.” He chastises, frowning as if you’re a petulant child in time out. “Just slow down and control yourself. Deep breaths.”

“I’m gonna cum,” you rasp, staring at him as a tear slides down your cheek. Your hand is shaking, middle finger pressing against your aching bud. “Please, I can’t-”

“Don’t you dare.” Sam looks at his watch. “Just a little bit longer. You won’t like what happens if you disobey me right now.”

“I’m trying so hard, but I can’t-”

“Times up.” He taps your knee and you instantly pull your hand out from the under the blanket. You’re one firm touch away from falling over the edge, your pussy is slick, dripping with arousal and you can feel it on the seat under you.

“Everything alright over here?” There’s suddenly an attendant standing next to Sam, looking at you with concern.

“Nervous flyer.” Sam explains, patting the back of your hand. “Panic attacks.”

“I’m fine,” you offer, voice shaking as you wipe sweat away from your forehead. “It’s just nerves.”

“Please let me know if you need anything.” She nods, giving you one last look before walking away.

“You’re attracting attention.” Sam chuckles, as your cheeks burn bright red.

“I was trying to be discreet,” you puff, sitting back in the seat.

“Trying and failing.” He points out the obvious. “But by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be surprised what you’re capable of suppressing.”

There’s no response for that. It’s terrifying to hear that for him this is just the tip of the iceberg. But it’s also exciting, everything about this arrangement is exciting. The fact that he has you edging yourself on a plane, surrounded by people and manages to remain so casual about the whole thing makes you want him even more.

There are three more sessions. Each farther apart than the last as he gives you ample time to calm down. By the time you’re finished with the last session the world is blurry, your entire body sweating and quaking as you use every last ounce of self-control to hold back an orgasm.

It’s just as the pilot announces that you’ve been cleared for landing that Sam closes his computer and starts to roll up his sleeve as if he’s about to go to work. The flight attendants strap themselves into their own seat and Sam tilts his head toward you.

“Spread your legs.” He murmurs, turning to watch your face as you comply. He snakes the hand closest to you under the blankets, wedging his knuckles between sticky thighs. His eyebrows shoot up when he feels how wet you are.

The plane begins to shake as you hit a turbulent patch and at the same time his finger slides over your swollen clit. You almost shout out, instead slamming your eyes shut and gripping the armrests.

“You love this don’t you? Being on display for me, everyone else just going about their lives ignorant to what’s going on between your legs.” The heel of his hand presses over your clit as he scoops down, sliding two fingers into your throbbing cunt. You whimper, sinking teeth into your bottom lip.

His fingers slide out and up, stroking your clit before burying back inside. He does it again and again, finding a rhythm, stroking your bud and teasing your hole open until you’re a mess, squirming uncontrollably.

“You’re gonna make me cum.” You wheeze, trying to squeeze your legs together.

“You better not.” He warns, hand slowing to make slow, painful circles around your clit.

“I’m trying but it’s too much.”

“Then we better stop.” He quips, pulling his hand away, leaving you gulping for air as the plane’s wheels touch down on the tarmac. “You did well.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, smoothing your hair back, ignoring the constant throb between your legs.

You put yourself back together, unlocking your seatbelt and pulling your skirt back into place. Right on cue, Sam hands you a napkin that you use to wipe off the seat under you, blushing as he watches you clean up the mess you’ve made.

In stark contrast to your usual roles, Sam stands up grabbing his own carry on bag, then takes yours, throwing the strap over his shoulder.

“You good?” He looks down, offering a hand to pull you up.

“Yes, thank you.” You nod, following him down the aisle.

The stewardess offers you a little pout, gently touching your shoulder as you pass by and a moment later you step off the plane into the San Francisco airport.

-

Parts Eight and Nine are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

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[danganronpa-ea]

DR: EA2 - prolouge part 2

Part 2 of the prolouge is about to begin which if you want to read part 1, here’s the link;

Part 1

This is where we meet the rest of the cast and our suppose master!

As the three of us made it to the kitchen, we met two young men conversing with each other, looking to have a conversation regarding food.

“So then… are you saying you found wild life when looking around, Kita-san?” a man that looked quite sickly who was wearing glasses who had light brown hair and light blue eyes was talking to a taller fellow that was called ‘Kita-san’ which I notice he had a gun on his back as he nodded. “From the looks of it when I was walking around, we got rabbit, foxes, bear and even fish in the rivers no too far from here.” He answers the other man’s question.

Chikao walk over to the pair and smile. “Ah – I see now we got some food to at least survive for a bit.” He spoke as the pair look at him which the sickly man notices me. “Ah – so it’s the girl that was sleeping on the plane which I’m surprise how well you slept from all the screaming that was happening…” He spoke with a slight chuckle but the other man shook his head.

“It was a rather worrying site but I think thanks to Ishikawa – we were able to calm down but enough of that… mind telling me your name?” The man with the gun spoke as I look around. “Oh right – well I’m Okamoto Fuji and you two?” I ask as the sickly man was the first to start.

“Ah yes right, you may call me Ueda Tomohiro, my talent if your asking is the Ultimate Pathologist and an honor to meet you. “he stated as the other man look at me which he introduces himself. “Kita Jobon, I’m refer to as the Ulitmate Sniper which I need to go out and check the grounds further so if you excuse me.” He stated as taking his leave but then look at Ryoko.

“Say, you mention your that survivalist, correct?” He asks Ryoko who gave a nod which Jobon seem to smile a tiny bit. “Then maybe you can help me if you want.” Jobon turn and left out the door leading to outside which Tomohiro sighed as shaking his head.

“I would of honestly prefer using fruits and vegetables but ah well…” He spoke then turn to me which he had a smile. “If I’m ever free then I love to talk with you more, Oh and if your meeting anymore people can you get some medicine which I notice there’s a drug store near by.” He asked which I couldn’t help but smile back as well which I gave a nod.

I had a feeling he be quite reliable…

We took our leave out of the kitchen and headed outside to that drug store that Tomohiro has ask us to do as we were heading down the trail, I notice a girl who had light blue hair and eyes which she was wearing glasses. “Oh hey, you must be another Ultimate, right?” I asked but she stare at me which then she as a really… odd question.

“What is your star sign?” She asked which I was a bit surprise. “Huh? Oh um, my birthday? Well it’s May 22nd so I guess a Gemini.” I told her which I was a bit uncertain which the girl nodded. “I see… then I can talk to you,” She commented as she continues. “Yes, I am an Ultimate, my name is Ohta Hoshiko and my talent is the Ultimate Astrologist.” She introduces herself which I blinked.

‘It is rather odd that she had to ask me for my birthday, does she have issues with talking to people?’ I thought to myself as Ohta-san close her eyes and sighed. “I’ll be honest I’m glad we can see the skies – I wouldn’t be sure what to do honestly…” She stated which I nodded. “Yeah, you’d honestly probably have a hard time figuring out your fortune telling I take it.” I commented but suddenly Ohta-san shook her head with a frown.

“First off it isn’t ‘fortune telling’ – those 2 are very different things plus my astrology always have helped me in bad situations,” She explained as placing her finger near her chin. “Plus, I am noticing something… excluding our teacher, it seems to be about fifteen of us here, don’t classes usually have sixteen or so?” She asked which I did recall there was two other classmates that are in our class. “Huh, good point… I think they were a journalist but, I was informed they live near Hope’s Peak.” I brought up which Ohta-san folded her arms and nodded.

“I see then… ashamed I suppose, guess I won’t get to talk with them…” She stated but then I notice Chikao walk pass me. “Anyways, we better head to the drug store that Ueda-san wanted us to get some medicine.” He stated as I notice Ohta-san frown a bit. “Ah, right… I was keeping you busy, I hope we get to talk more but right now I have to look over the skies…” She stated as she started to look up into the skies again.

I walk with Chikao and Ryoko but look over at Ohta-san – from what I can tell the girl seem a bit… lonely for some reason, I couldn’t place my finger on it but maybe I’ll talk to her later.

As the three of us made our way down the path which look to be just stone and kept walking into the forest, we saw a small building which had ‘drug store’ written on it. Which as we walk in, we saw alias full of various medicine and all kinds of bandages however I notice a boy with curly light blue hair and eyes wearing a dark brown hat and bomber jacket from the looks of it.

However, as I approach the boy - he gave me an annoyed look on his face. “Oh great… you’re that idiot girl that was asleep when we left, right? Y’know… the one that announce we be ‘totally safe when on our trip to Hope’s Peak’, right?” He asked which I stepped back. “Hu-huh? We-well, that’s a bit of a … mean way to put it but anyway – I’m Okamoto Fuji and my Ultimate talent is-?” “Ultimate Public Speaker, yeah I know about it since you did announce it…” He stated as putting his hands in his pocket which I blinked.

I… think he doesn’t like me very much which then Ryoko notice as well. “Pardon but, you should be a bit nicer to her…” She stated but then the boy shrugged. “And why? I mean she was the one that announce we’d end up at Hope’s Peak safely in her speech, she promised it, didn’t she?” He asked which I look to the side then Chikao. “Please do try not blame Miss Okamoto if you don’t mind.” Chikao order him to which then the boy turn to him and smiled a bit but gave a shrugged.

“Fiine, I suppose I can do that since you ask so nicely.” He stated, okay he must really hate me then the boy pulls his hand up giving a peace sign. “You can call me… Kobayashi Eito, honor meeting you lot well… most of you anyway.” He introduces himself which then I nodded. “Oh cool, and what would your talent be?” Ryoko which I look at her.

Wait, they don’t know what his talent is? Which I notice that Kobayashi went quiet for a moment then shook his head as crossing his arms. “My talent, eh? Um… I rather not talk about it.” He answered which Chikao tilted his head. “Huh? Why not? Do you not remember it?” he asked which Kobayashi shook his head. “Nah, I do know what my talent is but I just don’t want to talk about it and besides, were not at Hope’s Peak anyway so there isn’t a point of saying anything, right?” He asked – seeming to avoid the subject regarding his talent.

He then turned away and took his leave. “Besides, I rather like this resort! I mean there’s an ice rink, lodges for us to stay at and from the looks of the map here – a whole other area to explore! Way better then some stuffy old school anyhow so I better go look around some more.” He spoke as was… walking a little faster than normal, guess he just didn’t want to talk about his talent…

As then I notice Chikao walk over and look around. “Say, did Ueda-san say anything about what medicine he wanted?” I asked as I walk over to the counter to look around. “I don’t think so but we better get a few just in case.” Ryoko answered as she went to another part of the store.

After a while of searching, we grabbed a few packs and medicines and put them in a box that Ryoko had discover we left the store as Chikao holding the box full of medicine. “Seems this will be enough to last us for a wh-.” “Ah… so that’s the medicine he was asking for.” Chikao turn away quickly which he stepped back as did myself but Ryoko kept her ground.

We met a taller boy who was quite pale with dark circles around his green eyes, wearing a beret of sorts which he was dress in greens and blacks but I notice around his hands were light blue necklaces and what look to be a cross around his neck however I notice he look at us with a sigh.

“I get the feeling you were scared of me… correct?” He asked as then I shook my head. “Of course not, just that you surprise us without giving a warning.” I answered him which the young man nodded. “I see then – I do understand that… Ah, I didn’t introduce myself, did I?” He asked as then he continue. “You may call me ‘Abiko Benjiro’, the Ultimate Ghost Whisperer… Which I guess your that Public Speaker that was sleeping while the others were in panic.” He introduces himself which that seem pretty accurate to me as I nodded which Chikao tilted his head to the side. “You… speak to ghost? That is quite a…” “Strange talent? Yes, I’ve been told that quite a few times… I was always born with a six sense ever since I was a boy, it’s… quite common.” He spoke as look to the side.

For some reason, I… feel bad for him. “He-hey now – I don’t think your talent is that bad, maybe people don’t understand it.” I stated which Abiko-kun eyed me for a moment. “… I don’t think you understand, most people don’t want to be around due to my six sense so maybe stay away from me unless you want to ask me about the spirits now, would you mind if I take that back?” He asked pointing to the box that Chikao was carrying.

“O-oh um, su-sure thing…” Chikao stated as handling pretty quickly as Abiko-kun look at it then at us. “Well then… I better take my leave, I’ll come back here to see if there are spirits lingering…” He stated as taking his leave.

That guy… really seems lonely, I hope to talk with him if I get the chance. As then Ryoko walk away as she looks at the sign that was near by. “Seems there’s a ice rink we can go to.” She commented but then look down. “Sadly, I’m not good at the sport…” She stated, disappointed from the sounds of it as I walk over. “Oh c’mon, I’m sure with enough practice you can be good – besides I’m not a good skater either.” I admitted.

It was true, I didn’t know how to skate very well – I always wanted to but… I never had the time which Chikao walk over and laughed. “Well then, we can get started if we have time!” He told us as the 3 of us walk down the path I look to see it was a whole lot of trees around and snow, I did notice a deer look at us then disappear again.

“There… sure is a lot of wild life here.” I commented as we continue on to where the ice rink is which Chikao laughed a bit. “Yep – it’s pretty peaceful here… I can tell it be a nice place to stay at or I think we should thank whoever owns this place.” He stated which then Ryoko stop.

“Hm? Something the matter Hayashi?” Chikao asked as she was staring at what appears to be a short man with dark hair and beard, looking to have thick eyebrows, red eyes along with a red coat and… is that a whip?

“…Let’s go somewhere else, now.” Ryoko told us simply, in fact she was pretty blunt about it which then I look at the man which as I was about to say the short man turn to us with a big smile. “Ah if it isn’t the one, I want as an attraction!” The young man say as he made his way towards us which Ryoko froze up as he turn to him as giving this… unnatural smile on her face which… didn’t fit at all.

Something tells me that Ryoko was not too comfortable with him but then he turns to me as he smiles at me… really weirdly. “Well well, what a beautiful maiden we have here! I must ask what is thy name?” He asked me as I look at Ryoko who seem weirdly relieved to not get attention while Chikao seem to be worried for me… should I really answer this guy?

“Um… I’m Okamoto Fuji, Ultimate Public Speaker.” I introduce myself as the weird guy with the beard began to stroke it ever so proudly. “Why excellent, a match made in heaven of a pair of people that love to be up on stage – which I’m the well-known Ultimate Ringmaster! Norman Hanlon – the very man that will bring much attractions and excitement for all boys and girls!” He stated as nodded. “I… see, well you seem very sure of yourself.” I smile a bit.

I really am trying to be polite but this guy was being weird which he then he pull out his whip. “Excuse you – put more excitement in your voice – I can barely hear you!” He use his whip at my left foot which I dodge it!

“Waaah! What the-?! I was complimenting you!” I yelped, he then did it again as aim for my shoulder. “You didn’t have enough emotion now again; you’ll call me master!” He barked as he kept trying to whip me which I was shaking as then Ryoko grab the whip. “That’s enough, your making Okamoto-san uncomfortable.” She told him which that weird smile came again. “Ah, you wish to join too? I’ll gladly accept 2 beauties!” He stated which made Ryoko shiver but then Chikao shook his head as placing a shoulder on this weirdo!

“That’s enough, I rather you didn’t hurt these 2 now please back off…” He order which Norman turn and smiled as stepping back. “Ah yes yes, quite sorry! Just that… there are so many lovely ladies, I was simply curious~.” He stated in a normal tone.

Is that how he is when curious?! I do NOT want to know what he’s like when he’s hitting on someone!

“-as I was saying, yes I am the Ultimate Ringmaster, which I couldn’t help but admire you beauty now I must say if we ever get to talk some more I want to learn a whooole lot more about you.” He stated as taking his leave… Me and Ryoko gave a big sign of relief. “He’s gone now… thank god.” I was breathing – seriously, what the hell is up with him which Chikao look at us with concern.

“I’m… terribly sorry about that, I should have informed you that he is from America which I think it is mention he just recently became the ringmaster after a freak accident which… I think he’s trying to figure out after how to be a ringmaster.” He explained more carefully.

Which… made it somewhat understandable but still, he is a weirdo… I hope he calms down if we talk again. As the 3 of us kept walking we came up to a huge ice rink which I notice 2 girls were already there, one which had blonde hair which she was wearing a lot of pink, white and red was on the ice looking to be a spin of some kind while the other was a dark skinned girl with green eyes, blue hair and look to be wearing her hair in a ponytail which she look to be dress some blues, greens and blacks was watching her.

Which after the girl with blonde hair finish her final spin as she jumped in the air and landed perfectly! She was very graceful and beautiful~! I even notice that Chikao was sitting down watching the performance as well while Ryoko was staring as her face went a bit red. “She’s… very beautiful skater.” She stated rather awkwardly which I laughed. “Yeah, she really is – I want to try skating too!” I say but then she ended with a bow which then she looks up with a smile.

“My my, it seems I attracted some fans! Well I’m glad to see my performance but you’ll have pay…” She stated as she skated over to where we are which I look around as my face went red. “Oh really? Sadly, I don-.” “Pfft, nah she was just joking dude – just relax and enjoy the show man.” I was interrupted by the girl who seem to speak very casually as I nodded. “O-oh, really? I thought she was serious…” I spoke nervously, I wasn’t use to jokes… which the girl with blonde hair walk over to a seat where she appears to have some shoes as she was taking them off.

“Sooo – what were you doing with the ice?” Chikao asked as she look up which then a cat-like expression appear on her face as she laughed. “Ohoho, I was merely testing it to see if fit for one such as myself~! Mori Miwa, Ultimate Figure Skater – the charming beauty of ice~!” She spoke which… caught me by surprise, she seems very graceful and beautiful but now she spoke rather confidently and had a weird laugh it was rather a shock as then the girl walks next to me as placing an arm on my shoulder which I honestly didn’t mind.

“Heh, that mood shift sure is surprising, eh? So I guess you wanted to check the ice rink out?” She asked us as I gave a nod to her question which Chikao look over the ice. “So I take it that we can skate on this?” He asked as Mori-san nodded. “Excellent – I think skating would be fun.” The girl with blue hair smiled as then she turn to me as taking her shoulder. “So uh, didn’t catch ya name – mind telling me?” She asked as I nodded. “Ah, right then! I’m Okamoto Fuji, Ultimate Public Speaker.” I stated as the girl with Blue haired nodded.

“Alright then, cool got it – You can call me Hana Hamasaki, I recently got the title Ultimate Surfer. You seem like a cool dude; hope we get to talk more buddy.” She smiled pretty casually as I notice her speech pattern sounded more like a guy also her talent… I was expecting it would belong to a guy but I guess I was mistaken…

I then look around and realize something. “Wait, you… aren’t bother by the snow Hamasaki-san?” I asked her which Hamasaki-san snickered which she shrugged. “Well – snow is just colder version of water, yeah? Plus, Snowboarding and Surfing are similar, - right?” She asked in return which… she wasn’t wrong I guess but I have a feeling a lot of Snowboarders would take offense to her comment.

“So then – how are you enjoying Japan so far?” Chikao asked Hamasaki-san as she gave a thumbs up. “Oh dude, it’s pretty sweet! I really feel super welcome here and thanks for giving me a tour when I got here – I’d be totally lost if it weren’t for you.” She thanked him – seems those 2 have met before which Chikao couldn’t help but smile. “Then I’m glad to hear of this – if you need anymore help then do come to me, alright?” He told her which as I was watching the scene, I notice Mori-san standing next to me.

“I’m going to warn you but… do be careful of that guy.” She stated to me which I eyed her. “Huh? Why, did he… offend you?” I asked her which Mori-san shook her head. “No, not really but usually politicians only be nice just to gain votes, so keep in mind.” She stated as then Mori-san turn her attention to Ryoko.

Which the Survivalist couldn’t help but look confused. “You haven’t talk have you, I’ve notice you been eyeing me, wonder why~.” She spoke as putting her hand to her chin which Ryoko eyed the other way. “Well… I just never saw skating so I was curious and-.” I decided to leave those 2 alone as making my way to a random seat and look around the whole area.

I couldn’t help but sigh with relief, I was admittedly a bit worried about this whole thing or if anyone knows of this place but so far, the others look to be enjoying themselves. I felt a breeze on my face as I look over to where the lodge should be but it was cover in forest… I have a feeling; I’ll like it here maybe we can-.

Suddenly I felt my pad buzzing which I pull it out which there was a message – I look at Chikao, Ryoko, Mori-san and Hamasaki-san did the same – seems we all got the same message. I read it very carefully as to not forgot what was typed here.

‘To all those that receive this message, now that you’ve met everyone it’s time to meet the owner of the Shizen Resort please come to the front of the lodge where you’ll be staying at.’

I quickly got up as I look at Ryoko and Chikao, which seems Mori-san and Hamasaki-san already left. “I had wonder who own this place – wonder what they wanted to say.” I stated as Chikao shook his head. “But... the name, Shizen Resort I… heard of that name before.” He commented as Ryoko look at him, probably wanting to ask the same question as I did. “Wait, you know this place?” I asked as Chikao nodded as then he explained.

“Indeed, from what I know – it was a resort where many people visit things like couples, families, employees that deserve a day off but it close down a few years ago when the owner had died… but it seems the owner is alive if this place is being use right now for us.” He spoke as he ponders about which is interesting, if the owner was dead years ago why is it being use now which then Ryoko walk ahead. “Well then, it’s best to figure the answers out at where the message is telling us, right? Let’s go.” She spoke as me and Chikao nodded as the 2 of us follow her.

The walk back was a quiet one, I guess whatever this owner of the resort had to say is very important which then we got to the front of the lodge which had a small stage – everyone was there which all seem confused by the strange message.

“Ugh, I hate the cold… I hope this meeting is over soon.” Ueda-san stated as trying to keep himself warm as Katou-san and Abiko-san stood next to him as she look at her jacket then at him which our teacher, Mrs. Kimura eyed him then sighed. “Then you really should have brought a jacket to wear, dear.” She stated as she eyed her daughter who was playing with her phone. “Please put your phone away now, we have a meeting to pay attention to…” She spoke as Kimura-san eyed her mother as she did so.

Kobayashi look at Kimura-san as he walks over to her. “Hey now, I think she’s right – you shouldn’t be playing with that phone of yours.” He told her with a smile as the pink haired girl look at him which she nodded. “Right, I guess I should – I was just checking to see if I had any messages but sadly the Wi-Fi is out…I hope it gets fix soon.”

She spoke as then Nakahara-san pop up with a huge smile on his face. “Well if you need help with electronics – I can gladly fix up the up for you!” He stated as Kimura-san smile. “Wow, thank you~!” She thanked him which I notice Mrs. Kimura eyeing the conversation.

I then notice Ryoko was looking at where Mori-san was which she walks over which I did overhear a conversation. “I take it you pack up all your things?” She asked which Mori-san laughed. “A bit, have a few things left to do but uh, a change of topic but… mmm, some of the boys here aren’t have bad looking – especially that one over there…” Mori-san gesture over to Kita-san who look to be talking with that weirdo, Hanlon-san which Ryoko gave her a strange look.

“You mean… the one with a whip?” She asked as Mori-san froze up and face went completely red. “N-no! I’m referring to the one beside him.” She gestures to him which Ryoko look at him which I notice Kita-san eyeing her too. “I… see.” She stated simply which then she turns her attention back to Mori-san which Hanlon-san look at him. “So, you attract all the ladies… pretty lucky bastard if you ask me.” He spoke which Kita-san look really confused by his comment but then he look at Ryoko… it was a strange pair up.

I then notice Chikao walking over towards Hamasaki-san and Ohta-san. “Aww, you came for a visit? I’m so touch I could just give you a kiss~.” Hamasaki-san spoke as in a joking matter which Chikao laughed at the joke. “Well – maybe a date first before then, right?” He spoke which seems those were getting on so well as then Katou-san pop up had his paws up. “Then I’ll be the third wheel of this dynamic!” He declared with excitement; I couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“Oh oh, big sis – big sis! Over here!” I turn my attention towards Inoue-chan who was waving me to come over to her which I made my way to her. “Inoue-chan, you seem quite well – did you have fun playing in the snow?” I asked her as she look up at me with a huge smile on her face. “Yep, I sure did! I mean, it’s better then sitting down waiting for the TV to get fix… but then I was ask to come by that weird Pad thing, wonder what’s going on?” She asked which she look around confused.

I… had the same amount of questions, a lot of questions honestly in fact a lot of us were confused however, as I was beginning to wonder a voice suddenly came up.

“Well well well, seems you all are here! I’ve nearly run out of smokes and seems you lot are just as impatient well then – I better introduce myself!” the dark figure jumps up on stage which was… a stuff horse with a pipe, a hat and wearing a jacket. I was… confused, a stuff horse just spoke? Is this some weird fever dream.

“Ex-excuse me?!” I spoke up, which everyone looks at me which the weird horse plush tilted his head. “Hm? You have a problem now?” He asked as I look at the others nervously but then Chikao spoke up. “We-well, not really but… you’re the owner of the resort?” He asked which the horse plush nodded. “Why yes, I am… I just recently bought this place, you can call me Mr. Hanoponi, the one that owns your lives too so you lot better be grateful for that…” He declared which… he’s not serious about this, right?

I look at the others; aside from Inoue-chan who seem really curious of the toy, almost excited to play with it but the others either were confused or just unsure of what to think of this really bizarre situation “You… own us?” Kobayashi asked him which Hamoponi eyed him. “Why yes, as long as you listen to my rules and follow what I say, you’ll all be safe after all… this is a safe haven for you all that is.” He mumbled the last part under his breath which of course Kimura-sensei scowled as pointing.

“Now hold on a second! Are you saying that we are force to stay here and can’t leave?!” She asked, seeming frustrated which Katou-san spoke up too. “Th-then are family? What about our friends too…?” The tone was change he sounded… actually scared.

Shouts and complaints were coming left and right until I notice Hanoponi was shaking then yelled. “Shut your damn mouths you ungrateful lot!” He barked as it was silence once more then the stuff toy continues.

“As I was saying – yes, you sadly can’t leave but like I say I gave you a chance to live your lives here, now… you can do whatever you desire as long as you don’t break any rules otherwise, well…” His eyes started to glow a very… darkening aura, he seems very different then how he was.

“I won’t play nice with you, now the rules will be set up… now!” He lifted his hoof as I felt my pad move as I took it out of my pocket.

The rules were… simple to follow;

All areas will be close off by 11 pm which they’ll be open again at 7 am.

Now you can explore as much as you wish to your hearts content but you can’t leave the Shizen Resort.

You must not hurt master Hamoponi at any time or they’ll be serious consequences.

Master Hamoponi will not harm you but if you hurt others, he will take action just in case!

You must not hurt others living at the resort otherwise consequences.

If you break any of these rules, you’ll be kick out of the resort to keep the others safe.

If it becomes too dangerous, Hamoponi will kick everyone out of the resort

I carefully read the rules which… I look at the plush toy, which…

Something tells me, I don’t want to get on his bad side, for my own safety.

Prolouge – END

Survivors- 16

[demaury]

the best of me (chap.1)

“If anything bad happens I flush the rings, I leave my bestman spot to Baz, and I fly back to Paris.“

OR. Eliott and Lucas have never worked up the courage to actually make a move, and thus spent years dancing around each other without ever acknowledging their feelings. However, an engagement party gone a little too wild, an hotel room and a very bad idea might be all it takes to make everything blow up. (read on ao3)

Lucas had never truly believed that marriage would be something that could happen to him.

Or to any of his friends, for that matter.

It was something vaguely intimidating, that they occasionally joked about but never took seriously enough to consider it. It’s not like we’re gonna get married, he would scoff whenever his friends showed any interest in the new protagonist of his dating life — who never stuck around long enough to even think about it anyway. Marriage wasn’t real. They were still in their twenties, they were still meeting up for predrinks and playing video games until ungodly hours.

Lucas often forgot to lock the door before going to sleep. He sometimes considered candies, potato chips or spoonful of Nutella to be actual meals. He had no idea what was a tax stamp, what was his social security number, who the hell was his emergency contact (did he even have one?), and on the last round of the Presidential Elections the weather was just too good to bother waiting in line to vote for people he didn’t even know — nor cared about. He hated wine, even the fancy ones, didn’t like Champagne, and sitting on a chair was a challenge in itself at work because his first instinct was always to twist his legs at weird angles. He had been gifted a Pikachu Onesie a couple of years ago as a joke present for his birthday and he sometimes liked to wear it during winter because it was warm and comfy and nobody had to know about it. He still cart-surfed down the empty aisle at the supermarket, still felt like the cashier judged him whenever he bought condoms, and he had survived a running nose for a full year because he had dragged taking a doctor appointment.

Marriage? No, not happening.

So there was really no logical reason as to why he would find himself buckling up, in a plane, on the way to Barcelona, one fine July morning. Well, at least he didn’t have any a week ago.

It was precisely two days after a wave of heat had fallen upon Paris. In the span of twenty-four hours, the thermometers had reached well over 30°C, and effectively turned Lucas’ flat, along all the other buildings in the city, in some sort of furnace where you had trouble breathing at all. He should have known that it was the sign that something very weird would happen. Last time there had been seven centimeters of snow was the same day he had found out one of his now-exes was sending nudes to someone else, and one particularly rainy evening, while the Seine was already overflowing its banks, his dad had called to tell him that he wanted him to meet his new girlfriend.

So technically, yes, he should have known something weird would happen, the very moment he had exited his air-conditioned office at 5 in the afternoon, only for the dry summer heat to hit him with the strength of a sledgehammer. Yet, it wasn’t until three hours later, when his best friend called him via Skype all the way from Barcelona, that Lucas started thinking something fishy was happening. And definitely, marriage was not on the shortlist of things he’d have thought about.

“You did what?” he had blurted out, nearly dropping the plastic spaghetti jar he had just picked up from the kitchen elements, spinning around to face his best friend through the screen with wide eyes.

“I proposed,” Yann had repeated diligently, very proud of the emotion he had just caused. “And Nola said yes.”

On the moment, Lucas hadn’t been sure of what to say.

A week later, he still had no idea.

Apparently, though, he was the only one, if everyone else’s reaction had been any indication. Ever since the others had received the news, boys and girls had all been literally buzzing. Basile and Arthur had created a groupchat five minutes after Yann had called them, to gather as many embarrassing material as it was possible to dig for whatever thing he had planned for the weeding, while Daphné had taken over the organization of the trip with Nola, since they had all been invited to celebrate with them in Barcelona for a three-day weekend.

Don’t get him wrong, Lucas would have been thrilled to get an opportunity like this one, considering the fact that you could make fried-eggs on the sidewalks and that he hadn’t had a proper night of sleep in days because he felt like he was suffocating whenever he laid down. But apparently the stars had aligned to mess it all up, and that was the exact reason why he was forced to fly on Saturday morning, an entire day after everyone else had already flocked in Barcelona — save for Emma.

“Dude, I had to literally fight to get this weekend off, don’t even get me started,” she had groaned while they were taking possession of their seats. “Emilie was a total bitch, like apparently it’s rude to ask her to switch shifts when her kid is sick. What do I know? How am I supposed to know that her stupid kid’s got fever? I’m not a psychic.”

Lucas snorted, leaning back against the backrest of his seat. “Maybe she dropped clues and you didn’t hear. Not the first time it’d happen.”

Emma pulled a face. “Rude.”

Lucas shook his head a little. The plane was filling itself with other passengers surely taking off for weeks, instead of a short weekend. Until the middle of the week, he had been set to fly on Friday morning, and he had already made plans to meet up with everyone else at the gate in Orly Airport. But on Wednesday, his boss, Julie, had barreled into the small office he was sharing with an intern to inform him that she had an emergency situation and wouldn’t be available on Friday.

“I’ll need you to cancel your plans that day, I need someone to keep the firm open,” she had said, and Lucas had almost started complaining out loud.

“What about Bérénice?”, he had tried, helplessly gesturing at the empty desk of the intern.

Julie had grimaced. “I’m sorry but I don’t trust her enough to give her full authority. Clients will come to retrieve contracts and she’s not familiar with the whole process. I’m sorry.”

Before he could even protest she had disappeared through the door to her own office, and Lucas had been left to stare begrudgingly at his computer screen with the feeling of having been betrayed on a deep, deep level. He had always gotten along rather well with Julie, ever since he had started working in that architect firm, but right now he wanted to murder her with his bare hands. Or maybe just set the firm on fire. In the end, Alexia, who had managed to score her day off last minute had exchanged her plane ticket with him, so at least he didn’t have to pay another 145€ for nothing, which was probably still better a consolation that nothing.

Still.

“Don’t you find it weird that Yann’s getting married?”, he said after a while.

Emma turned a blank look on him as she glanced up from her phone. She pondered the question. “Dunno. I mean, if he feels like it…”

Lucas gave her a face. “C’mon. We both know he’s not exactly… eh, the best at relationships,” he said emphasizing the two words with a pointed look.

Emma shrugged, waving slightly. “It’s one of those things you never know if you’re good at until you tried. Frankly, what’s the worst that could happen? A divorce never killed anybody.” She widened her eyes slightly then winced when she looked up at Lucas’ clearly annoyed face. “I mean, it’s not that big of a deal until kids come around and-”

“Whatever,” he huffed. His parents had divorced years ago. In the meantime he had grown up and mostly gotten his shit together, so it was safe to say he was mostly over it. “He’s your ex. How many times did you guys start it all over? I’ve lost count.”

“Are you trying to make me freak out to hide the fact that you’re freaking out?” she snickered.

“I’m just saying that three years ago no one would have bet a penny on the two of you waving hello.” And certainly not more than that, he added to himself. It was frankly the understatement of the year. Not only Emma and Yann had started talking again, but Lucas had stumbled on them with their pants down during a particularly memorable New Year’s Eve party, where he had to eventually find an alibi for Yann’s girlfriend.

“Look, it’s not the same,” Emma rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t happy with Marion and we just had comfort sex.”

“That stretched out for weeks.”

“Do you know the very concept of fuck buddies?”

“I’m not sure that fuck buddies usually attend their booty-call’s engagement party,” Lucas observed, fishing his phone in his pocket.

“You know we stopped this months ago. It’s really no big deal and Nola’s okay with it.”

Lucas cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed, before nonchalantly unlocking his phone. “Does she know about the fuck buddies part?”

Emma opened her mouth, then seemed to think about her answer before shrugging one more time. “If Yann came clean about it then yeah, I bet she does,” she eventually said.

Lucas’ eyes snapped up and he stared at Emma, eyes bulging. “Oh, man, this is gonna be a mess,” he huffed, shaking his head. “You do know Basile’s already there, right? Basile and his big fat mouth? Basile no-filter Savary?”

“So is Eliott,” Emma bit back.

It was his turn to open and close his mouth, without being able to get a word out. “What the fuck does it have to do with Yann getting married?”, he asked haughtily.

“I don’t know,” she said slowly, “I’m just saying that while we’re talking about weird as shit relationships you need to take full responsibility of your own mess.”

He scoffed, but his eyes were glaring holes. “It’s gonna be easy then because there’s nothing weird about Eliott and me.”

“Right,” Emma drawled. He almost thought that was it. That she would gracefully drop the topic, a topic that was not even a topic in the first place, let alone her business. But instead, she pretended to give it a thought before she turned to him. “You know what? You’re right. After all ten years might not be enough for it to become weirdly comical. Because, y’know, the first five years it was fun to see you both dancing around each other, then the last five years it was just, well, plain depressing. Maybe in, like, five years, it’s gonna be fun again.”

“Just fuck off,” he gritted. “Eliott is my friend, and he was always there for me just like I’ve always been there for him. I don’t see how that can compare with the weird shit you and Yann keep pulling every three years or so,” he retorted dryly. And with that he grabbed his earbuds, put them on, and ostensibly turned his head the other way.

*

Okay, here was the thing.

When Lucas was young, he had started believing in alternate universes. Parallel worlds never really colliding, but with another Lucas in every single one of them, experiencing different lives and various fates. There was something comforting to it, to simply think about all the roads he hadn’t taken, the choices he hadn’t made, that other Lucases got to experience for him.

It had been comforting, really. To a certain point, at least.

He hadn’t exactly seen the biggest downside of it all until he was 16, and until he met Eliott. The guy had barged into his life during his second year of high school, after Christmas Break. Lucas could still remember the way the walls had seemed to collapse when he had entered the common room meeting — the way his eyes had travelled up all the way to him as if he was a magnet, and the way his breath had caught in his throat, lungs crumpling in his chest. Eliott was beautiful, with his crinkly eyes and his disarming smile, but he was also insanely hot. Hotter than anyone Lucas had ever met. Prettier than anyone he had ever seen. And, well. That’s exactly where the problem had been since the beginning, since the first time they had met, since the moment they had hit it off at that vending machine, right after the common room meeting.

Lucas Lallemant wasn’t a match for Eliott Demaury and would never be.

It had been mostly fine until the night Eliott had told him bluntly, on the way back from a short-lived party on the school grounds, that he wasn’t necessarily looking for a girl to date. A straight guy was just a straight guy until he wasn’t anymore. But still, for better or for worse Eliott was still dating his long-time girlfriend, Lucille — it wasn’t like he was on the market.

It had become much more complicated when, a month or two after starting uni, Eliott had eventually dumped Lucille for Julien. An asshole, if you asked Lucas. Ridiculously good-looking for a philosophy major, and overly confident at that. He was tall and slightly lanky, about the same frame as Eliott — in short, the perfect size not to make hands holding or kissing awkward. Lucas had been on the shortlist of people who had gotten to meet him first (a privilege he’d have been fine not having), and when everyone had bombarded him with questions about Julien, all he had found to answer was 'they look good together’. It wasn’t a lie; they really did look good together. And frankly, it was the only thing Lucas had allowed himself to say about it, because he just couldn’t bring himself to lie.

What was the problem with the parallel universes, you’d ask?

Well, it was the very night Eliott had come out to him that Lucas faced the bitter truth. He was lying in his bed, wide awake, eyes fixated on the ceiling when it hit him like a truck: somewhere, in another universe, Lucas n°99942 was hot enough to be considered a match for Eliott Demaury. You’d think it’d be more complicated to go on from there, to keep being friends with Eliott, to keep seeing him dating other people, but it wasn’t really that complicated. There was just nothing Lucas n°1 could do about it and water had flowed under that bridge. He had found cute guys for himself, not as hot as Eliott, and sometimes not nearly as caring as him, but that was just how it was.

For the most part, Lucas had made peace with it. Well, key words being ‘for the most part’. There was just no point in pretending that he wasn’t feeling his heartbeat rise up suddenly whenever Eliott’s face would brighten up at the sight of him during a party, or the way he’d always make sure that Lucas had a spot next to him whenever everyone would gather at a random bar. There was also no point in denying that a pair of stormy grey eyes sometimes popped up in his brain at… well, odd times. Nevertheless he’d blamed it on Eliott, and Eliott’s personality altogether. Everyone had feelings for him to a certain degree, even the straightest of their friends. Even Basile, Arthur and Yann had already put Eliott at the top of their list if they ever were to switch sides. Sure, for the past few years Lucas and Eliott had gotten even closer, but it wasn’t anywhere like Emma made it sound. It wasn’t odd and it wasn’t toxic. Maybe he hadn’t been fond of all of Eliott’s relationships. Maybe he hadn’t been thrilled to see Eliott get himself into a polyamory thing with a guy and a girl, particularly because he was afraid Eliott would end up hurting. Maybe he had told Macha, Eliott’s most recent ex to this day, to fuck off once. He wasn’t proud of himself but he had always made amends afterwards and Eliott had always told him it wasn’t the end of the world.

They were glad to have each other, and it didn’t make it any more awkward between them that it did with Yann, plain and simple. It was nearly 11 when they made it to the hotel and he just couldn’t wait to let the pressure out and see everyone, he thought as he pushed open the door to the hotel’s lobby.

“Hey, don’t we know these two?” Emma asked, smirking as she gestured from her chin.

Yann and Eliott were chatting by the counter of the concierge. Eliott flashed them a smile, interrupting whatever he was saying, and Yann spun around to grin brightly at them. Hugs were in order and Lucas was soon wrapped in the arms of his longtime best friend. “Bro, congrats for Nola and you,” Lucas said, hugging him back. “You’ll make her super happy.”

No matter what he thought about the whole ordeal — he had figured it was the best to say. Right?

“Thanks Lulu,” Yann replied, still grinning broadly, then he went on to hug Emma. “Fuck I’m so glad to have you guys here. It’s gonna be awesome, everyone’s waiting for you!”

Eliott crossed his arms over his chest, and the loose tank-top he was wearing did a lot in favor of his biceps. “Don’t I get a hug or what?”

“Fuck you’re so needy, we’ve seen each other three days ago,” Lucas snorted, but he still went for a hug nonetheless.

Eliott chuckled, pulling him close. “It’s just nice to have you around.” He ruffled his hair a little as Emma and Yann were talking close by.

Lucas smiled and parted from him with the feeling of not having had nearly enough. “You too,” he smiled, looking up. 

Eliott slid an arm behind his neck, just like he casually did so often, making them both turn around toward Yann and Emma.

Lucas voluntarily ignored the pointed look she gave him as the four of them made their way to the elevator.

[goldenhour-goldenboy]

Memories (Benny Miller x Medic!Reader)

“No.” 

Benny answers before you even have the chance to think about Pope’s offer. It’s a hard no, his eyes are looking at you sternly and he crosses his arms as you turn around to look at your boyfriend with a mixture of amusement - How does he think he can decide that for you? -  and annoyance - Again, he’s not the one deciding.

“I’ll call you later Pope, alright?”, You reply to the columbian man in your kitchen and he kisses your cheek goodbye, nodding at Benny before he leaves. Pope has a feeling that Benny doesn’t want him anywhere near him, now that he offered his loved one the chance to accompany them on the trip. It was a quick decision for Pope, really. The medic he planned on having to tag along bailed the last minute, too frightened about the idea of Lorea and though Pope doesn’t want to endanger you, he trusts you and he knows you can handle the heat and the pressure of the situation they’re about to get into. 

Benny knows this as well, after all you’ve met while both of you were still deployed and he’s seen you handle risky situations under pressure, but this is different. He knows it, you know it. This time, there’s not army safety net.

You spend the whole night arguing back and forth. You see no reason letting Benny go and waiting for him to come back home, as if you can’t contribute to the situation. He’s not about to drag you into some sort of mess Pope has chosen to go after because he doesn’t know when to stop and is on his manhunt for every bad guy on the planet. You argue back that if it’s that dangerous it’s even better if you come along and be there when the guys will need to get patched up and Benny counters with the fact that it isn’t supposed to get dangerous at all! That’s even better because there’s really no point in you not coming along then, is there? 

You’re still arguing back and forth in the living room as dawn begins to break, having accomplished nothing. Benny knows that he can’t keep you off this mission, no matter how hard he tries. You know that you won’t be home waiting for them to return and sit this one out just because Benny thinks you’re suddenly made out of glass. It’s tight jaws and hard stares from him in the end, spitting out a single “whatever” and you sigh in frustration. 

The next thing you know you’re waiting with Yovanna and her brother at the airstrip, checking your equipment from time to time and growing more worried with the second. They’re way over the time Redfly set for them and you remember his words clearly. “And that’s hard out.” Being late is never a good sign, especially from a group like them. Being late means something happened. 

You spot the two vehicles coming down the hill first, standing up anxiously and releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you see Benny emerge from the car. The relief is short though, the way his jaw is set firmly is the first proof of something going terribly wrong. The second is William limping out of the car, torso leaning more to one side and his shirt stained with a dark blotches of blood. You’re next to him in seconds, passing Benny briefly and the only interaction you two share is the short brush of your hands against each other. 

“What happened?” you ask William, fingers on his side already, pulling his shirt up and inspecting the bandage, which has become loose and wandered down already. 

“Had to change the plan.” he grunts and gently pulls your fingers from his side. This is the third sign, Redfly’s plans rarely change to someone getting shot in the aftermath. “Later.” 

You watch him walk down the airstrip, Benny following William with two of the many bags, looking over his shoulder to you for a second. With your fingertips bloody, you watch the team in front of you working. The air is thick with tension and opportunity and the promise of money. A voice inside your head starts to whisper that this might’ve been a bad idea. 

“Thank you.” Will breathes out as you pull down his shirt again and let him settle against one of the bags. His voice sounds a bit strange coming over the big headset and you smile as you pat his knee before packing up the bloody gauze and move over to Benny, who’s seated only a couple seats away. You desperately want to talk, no one’s said a word to you and by this point you’ve figured that the team, who used to do so well together might be a bit out of training. Ben’s stare is on his brother and you grab his hand and give it a light squeeze. 

“He’ll be fine. The bullet went right through, didn’t hit anything vital and the bleeding stopped. Gave him something for the pain but nothing too strong so he’s still sharp and cleaned it out. He’ll sleep it off and by next week he’ll be good as new.” You try to keep it professional, helping him through the situation because you know that even though he might appear calm and collected, William is Benny’s weak spot and seeing his brother getting shot must’ve rattled him.  You open you’re mouth to continue but he looks at you as if he knows what you’re about to ask and squeezes your hand back. 

“Thank you.” 

You fall asleep to the sound of the rotor blades above you and the steady movement of Benny’s chest for the next couple of hours, waking up every now and then to check on William. And even though he’s doing fine the bad feeling in the pit of your stomach won’t go away. You’re almost glad to be in the helicopter by now and on your way home, wanting nothing more then to get out of those dirty clothes and into a nice safe bed next to Ben. You think this is over by now.

You scream for Fish to lower the damn helicopter, William screams for Ben to hold on and Ben’s screaming that he has to let go if he wants to survive. The next seconds become a blur, up becomes down and when your heads stops spinning your on the ground. Pope stands above you and you hear someone coughing to the right of you. Where’s the rest? You try to blink the stars away and lift a hand to the back of your head, moving agonizing slowly. No blood, that’s good, you think. 

“Hey! you alright? Can you hear me?” This time you understand Pope and you nod, grabbing his hand he stretched out for you. “Okay then let’s get out of here.”  You spot your small backpack halfway through the helicopter and Pope grabs it for you and throws it out the top before helping you crawl out. You’re indeed on the ground, surrounded by plants in a field. That’s all you register before you slide down the side of the broken down plane, landing clumsily on your feet, Pope landing right beside you. Your eyes search around and you almost cry in relief as you see Benny emerge through the plants, hair a mess without his hat and dirt mixed with scratches but alive and well overall.

“Are you hurt? You good?” Ben’s a bit breathless, eyes checking you over for any injuries and he can’t help but cup your face with his hand. 

“I’m fine, I’m good. Might have a concussion but nothings broken.” His eyes are on his brother who emerges from the pile of metal, swaying slightly but steady on his feet after a few test steps and Redfly is already calmly explaining what is about to happen next. 

“What a fucking shit show.” Benny swears under his breath, taking the hat William’s handing him and kissing you quickly before suiting up and vanishing onto higher ground. It’s something he usually wouldn’t do but they all just almost died and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t kiss his girl after that. 

You really don’t want to complain. But it’s wet. And cold. And if you’re honest you’re kind of done with this trip by now and you’re sure everyone else is as well. 

“I’m not gonna say I told you so.” Benny murmurs from behind you, shifting slightly with his arms wrapped around you, bodies pressed against each other under the small rain cape from his backpack. “But I told you to stay at home.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t need to. I can feel you being pissed without you saying a single word.”

“Oh so this is your favorite weather? Rainy and muddy being your new thing now? Are you having a real good time, Ben?” you snap back. He’s about to respond - something witty maybe, or maybe something mean, by now you can’t really tell what it’ll be - when Catfish chimes in from the left, eyes closed and desperately trying to get comfortable. 

“Will you just shut up already? Some are trying to sleep here.” 

You swallow a remark and feel like Benny is doing the same. It’s quiet for a while, rain hitting leafs being the only sound, apart from Will’s deep breaths coming from the left of you. He’s stable, the wound doesn’t seem infected and you’ve changed the bandage twice by now - first after they’ve crashed and second after crossing the river and swimming through dirty water. You shift again, this time not about changing position but about trying to warm up some of your body parts that have been getting colder. You’re really not keen about getting pneumonia out of this trip and you know the hardest part lays before you - getting over the Andes. High altitude, no shelter, even colder condition due to the wind. The thought about having to potentially stay on top of a mountain for maybe even a whole night makes a shiver run down your spine. Ben’s hands are there immediately, running up and down your arms and trying to get some warmth back into your body. 

You sigh exhausted and lean back against him, feeling him press a soft kiss just behind your ear and you know that this is the closest thing of getting an apology right now. This ain’t the time nor the place for you two to discuss your feelings or your doubts about all of this so you just turn around and quickly press a kiss to his lips as well - your way of saying “I’m sorry too” - before settling back against him, hearing Catfish groan again.

“I will never go on a trip with a couple ever again.” 

You hear the screaming first and think secondary. Before you can comprehend what’s going on, you’re sprinting out from behind the big rock where you tried to take cover. You can’t know Pope shot the last sniper already, can’t know everything is over by now. You’re purely reacting on instinct - someone screams, you run to try and help. 

You see Benny leaning over someone. Dark hair, blood splashed around his head. The head is always bad.  You see Pope standing above Benny, then William coming down from the side. It’s not them. It’s not them. Your breathe. Fish has dark hair. And your heart stops again. 

It’s then that you see the bright flash of orange. It’s too bright against the grey rocks surrounding you and you start to guess then, know who it is. You’re on your knees in seconds, pushing Ben and William aside. “Let me look.” By now you’re close enough, you see the hole in Redfly’s forehead. You’re hand is on his throat searching for a pulse that’s not there anymore. The head is always bad. 

Time stops as you look into Tom Davis dead eyes, gently pulling your hand away from his body. Behind you Ben and William are clashing into each other but you barely notice it. You came onto this mission to help and now that there’s nothing you can do, you feel as if you’re the one on the ground dying instead of him. Your head repeats his status, coming to the same conclusion every path you go down. He’s not breathing, he’s dead. There’s not pulse, he’s dead. His pupils don’t react anymore, he’s dead.

He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 

Suddenly there’s a hand on your shoulder, pulling you away from Tom and turning you around. It’s Pope, gently lifting his hand and wiping away some tears you didn’t even know you were shedding. 

“He’s dead.” you croak, needing to say it out loud and Pope nods. Time of death -

“Yes. He’s dead.”

  You swear you can almost hear the beach. It’s dark and without Pope navigating you to through the last thickness of jungle before open water, you would’ve gone lost and stumbled into one of the teenagers from the villages by now. There wasn’t a lot of talking on the way down. Maybe there was but you can’t remember it. There’s just bits and pieces for you now. 

Benny singing. Dropping the money. Walking. Tom’s bodybag. Benny offering to go done to search for their ship, alone. That’s when you snapped out of it. 

“No.”

This time it’s you who’s stern, locking eyes with him and not moving an inch. Normally you wouldn’t intervene, you’re trained to keep your personal feelings to yourself, to put the mission above everything and to not loose your focus due the relationships you choose to encounter in your free time. But this is not any relationship, this is Benny about to go on, alone, when you’ve stayed a group for the whole mission now.

This is not a mission, you think, this feels more like suicide. 

Benny starts but you cut him off. 

“No.” you repeat. You try to sound as hard as the first time but suddenly there’s a lump in your throat and you hope that Ben will leave it at that because you know if you have to say it again you’re voice will break. He’s not saying anything at all as he takes one step closer to you and for a moment you think he’ll really stay - until you see him reach into a bag and stuff a couple of stacks into his pockets. 

“This is not your decision to make, love. I’m the best option for us right now.” he says softly and you laugh weakly as he repeats your defense from a couple nights ago back at you. It’s the nerves, you tell yourself as you feel like more like crying. Benny cracks a smile, cups your face and strokes your cheek softly before pressing a hasty kiss to your temple. You watch him walk away and slump next to William, both of your thoughts on the man you call family. 

There’s a lot of happening around while Benny and you wait to board your plane. He’s next to you, his snapback this time not sitting backwards on his hair but facing the “proper way” and that’s the strongest indication for you that this mission, this trip, is finally over. As Benny’s slouched down in his seat, your fingers interlaced with his laying in your lap as he’s taking a much needed nap, your thoughts snap back to everything you’ve encountered. Every time you close your eyes, you see flashes of Tom lying before you, his own eyes starring back at you without any sign of life in them. 

You sneak a glance to Benny, eyelashes so long they almost touch his cheeks and the worry of the past couple days not a bit prominent on his relaxed face. You can’t help but wonder how he does it -  how he can just close his eyes and fall asleep. 

“Hey.” Benny mumbles, voice rough. You haven’t realized he’d woken up as you were still turning moments over in your head, still thinking if there’d be something you could’ve done differently. If maybe, somehow, you could’ve stopped all of this from happening. 

“Hey.” You whisper back softly. 

“What’cha thinking about?”

You scoff for a moment, fiddling with his hand in yours before rubbing your face and looking at him again. “You told me not to come.”

“I did.” There’s a pause, neither of you knowing what to say next. 

“It wouldn’t have changed anything, though. Would it?” You ask slowly, eyes uncertain now and Benny turns to look somewhere in the busy airport around you two. Tom’s death lays heavy between the two of you, easily the biggest loss from this trip that was supposed to be so much different. 

“No, it wouldn’t.” Benny squeezes your hand and pulls you closer. “Maybe we all shouldn’t have gone.” There’s a second part of that sentence hanging in the air as you snuggle closer to Ben - but that’s always easy to say in hindsight. 

You hold Benny a bit tighter that moment. You’re breathing, he’s breathing. Anything else neither of you can change in the tiny airport. It’s horrible, you think, but you’re really glad both of you get to go home. Together. 

[abundantchewtoys]

HS Epi: Meat p22 reaction

So, John was doing something vaguely relevant to the plot.

Does that mean that whatever that was in the wallet for him to find, wasn't relevant? Or did Dirk really skip to a point in the future in his narration? I'd think that if a living person was captchalogued in the wallet, that'd be plot relevant.

If so, I wonder if it's more than one. But we're not likely to catch up with both Aradia and Terezi in one go. Also, I doubt Vriska somehow captchalogued herself in this wallet to escape the clutches of gravity. Well, except maybe if after reverse engineering the code for the wallet, she also alchemized a regular wallet besides the 8-ball/wallet combo.

But that makes me think of something else. I wonder what the max storage space of the wallet is... If it's functionally infinite, they have a functionally infinite singularity of questionable intent that might be in need of cleaning up at one point. :P Though it's doubtful.

---

"You’ve been drifting so long that you’ve lost the ability to objectively judge time or depth or distance. It’s getting hard to think about yourself as an objectively limited being. The boundaries of your skin begins to thin and disappear." Oooh, is it the lack of milestones in that plane, maybe, that's causing this introspection? Or is it just part of his ascension to his ultimate self?

"If your perception expands beyond the meat sack of your body, then are you really an individual anymore? Why shouldn’t we become gods? Why shouldn’t we become one God." Sounds like something Dirk might say - I know, funny because Dirk IS saying this, in John's stead. Alternatively, if Alternate Calliope is really malevolent, this might be her motivation to devouring everything ever. She wants to become UNIVAC.

"You scrunch up your nerdy face and furrow an eyebrow. It seems you aren’t enjoying this train of thought." John's intrusive thoughts are next level.

"Sorry, dude. That’s what’s on my mind right now. I’m having a phenomenological debate in my third ear that’s way more popping than your little hero’s journey into the belly of a quarter-life crisis." For a minute I thought he meant he was debating this with Kanaya, but he put her on hold so I was like: :? Then I realized he said "third ear", I guess that's something akin to the mind's eye, in that he's currently using the narration for his internal monologue.

"It turns out you don’t have time to worry about the voice inside your head, because you hear one outside of it." Ooh! Someone living, one we expect to be out here? And there Dirk goes, burying John's emerging awareness again, for a moment.

"At first you don’t think it’s real." ... Please don't be Alternate Calliope.

"MEENAH: yo blue guy MEENAH: get the shell down here"OOOOOH! She's alive!! ... Well, no, she's still dead, but you know. She survived Lord English, and the Black Hole. Girl's really got spunk. So, that brings her back in the running for candidates for John to give the ring to. ... Speaking of. Did John just, like, shrugged off Lord English's tooth, or is the poison still in his body?

I'm glad we saw her, it means that more people could have survived that were around before the battle (alive or dead), as well as the B2 kids that died during the battle! But uh... What even is still sustaining their existence? I mean, the dreambubbles were created to house them, only Sollux was able to leave through mumbo jumbo class/aspect magic.

"Your whirl around, upside down. You look up, then down. There she is." Hah, yeah, no point of reference, no gravity, so indeed, she could have been every where, relevant to him, that's also why she shouted "down here"!

"She’s clinging to a random server beacon, looking a little the worse for wear but still grinning. You float on down to greet her." Tsssh, she located the server running the LE code??? What could they even do with that, anymore. (How did it even survive.)

At least, I'm guessing it's that server, not the server hosting Rose's walkthrough. :P

So yeah, uh, that server was connected to Doc Scratch's study. In the Green Sun. ... Has it become a non-letal shortcut to Alternate Calliope now?

"JOHN: thank god. i was beginning to think that no one else was alive. MEENAH: im not alive" Hah! Ba-dum tssh.

"JOHN: oh right. sorry. JOHN: i’m glad to see you, is what i meant to say. MEENAH: same MEENAH: i fuckin guess" Yeah, not many of her friends will be left, probably. If any.

"She narrows her blank eyes. Her mouth twists into a frown. Not quite a concerned one, but close enough. You’ll take it." Is she noticing John has become an adult? ... Or yeah it might just be general concern, the situation is alarming enough. I wonder if she knows about Vriska? And what that exactly means to her, 16-year-old Vriska probably being dead for good.

Oh boy, but this is so cool, she's got potential for just as much as the Condesce, who had ties to Lord English. I wonder if she'll be instrumental in the final stages of the epilogues, if Alternate Calliope ends up being the/a end boss.

Can't shake the idea I'd like her to end up on Earth C, but then she'd not have a good role to play in a utopia, I think. But then what is her role in the story from here on out, exactly.

"MEENAH: damn buoy ya look like S)-(IT JOHN: yeah, i know. JOHN: i suffered a mortal wound, and then i threw up on myself." He didn't get better so much as that he walked it off.

"MEENAH: waterboat lord english MEENAH: he bite the bullet or what JOHN: yeah he’s... JOHN: he’s pretty fucking dead. MEENAH: whale MEENAH: theres that at least

There is definitely that, at least." Must feel like an anticlimax to Meenah too, probably. She wasn't around to see the guy bite it that was responsible for their own universe being forced to be scratched.

"You were kind of hoping you’d discover a survivor you could have an actual conversation with. Not that you aren’t glad to see Meenah, but you don’t /know/ her, and she’s not who you were really looking for." Funny how Meenah grew on John so much, what with how she ran him through on at least two occasions. I was thinking at first John was looking for Vriska, but that's just an automatism, a left over from when John still felt something for her. Of course, I forgot about Jade.

"That reminds you. JOHN: hey, uh... JOHN: mee... JOHN: fish? JOHN: (christ.)" Is that supposed to be a fish pun in her name, him using one cause he knows she likes them? Or is it that Dirk may remember Meenah's name (hearsay, in his case, since he's post-retcon - then again, ultimate self), but not John. :P

"JOHN: have you by any chance seen jade around? MEENAH: who da fuck is jade"PFffff, hah! Now she gets a chance as well to broadcast her ignorance in the names of the people in the other parties. 'THEY'RE ALL NAMED CARLOS AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED.'

"JOHN: i mean, REALLY? JOHN: you don’t know jade?" The time she spent a lot of time dreaming in the dreambubbles was before the A1 trolls ever became relevant. On the three year trip, the indication seemed to be they just met a lot of A2 ghosts from alternate timelines in their dreams.

"JOHN: jade’s like, a big deal? JOHN: i thought you were kind of important too?" Well, different circles. Top of class vs. top dog on the play yard.

"MEENAH: you didnt even know my name dog" He knew you were an alternate to Betty Crocker, though. :P

"You’ve never been accused of having stellar people-reading skills. But even you can tell the look on her face says it all right now." Well, just be glad he isn't Jake, or even a death glare wouldn't suffice.

"JOHN: wait a minute. JOHN: do you even know MY name? MEENAH: uhhh" Pfffff, hah! Actually, valid question. What with how she referred to even her friends by last name (okay, that's because they weren't revealed yet), and had all those nicknames for them (and Karkat and Aradia)... Maybe she's just really bad with names.

"MEENAH: like MEENAH: joke? MEENAH: joke somefin" Wrong bespectacled nerd, but I can see why she'd mix them up. :P Close enough, though!

"JOHN: joke is my biological father. JOHN: i mean JAKE! JOHN: jake is his name." No, I think jokes might actually have fathered you. :P What with how he's a trickster and all.

"Halfway through this exchange, Meenah pulls out a small, clamshell-shaped accessory kit, and begins to file her nails." This is starting to turn into an awkward schoolyard conversation between classmates that don't really know each other.

"She almost dislocates her jaw by yawning the moment you mention Jake." Which is funny because Jake could've dislocated her jaw when he pounced on her when he thought she was past Condesce. :P

"You decide to do her, as well as yourself, the favor of completely ruling out the possibility of eliciting any valuable information from this person." No, Dirk, I do think she still has an ace up her sleeve, even if she doesn't even know it yet. But at least maybe now they'll acknowledge the server?

"MEENAH: i aint moved from this floatin hunger trunk lookin piece of shit since i got my bass kicked" Hah, yeah, it does look like a fridge, in Andrew's art style. :P

"JOHN: well, you’re the first i’ve seen too. MEENAH: oh" I wonder who she might have wanted to find, besides Vriska.

"JOHN: so what’s your plan now?" Don't think she has any left, now. You'll have to lead, Johnnyboy.

"JOHN: you just gonna hang around here, in the middle of nowhere, doing nothing forever? MEENAH: thats what ghosts is most good at aint they" It wasn't what she set out to do, initially, though! She hates inertia.

"JOHN: you don’t have to stay here. JOHN: i can take you back with me, to my planet." Aha! It would have all sorts of implications, of course, since she didn't "win" by any measure. So the victory state would not account for her presence. It won't happen just yet, of course.

"Meenah stares at you for an uncomfortably long time. She looks you up and down, like she’s making certain calculations. On the one hand, spending infinity clinging to a fridge-like space computer circling a black hole sounds like a drag. On the other hand, will her coolness and street cred be able to survive any prolonged association with this dumb blue nerd? That’s what she could be thinking, you think. You hope not though, because if true, it would hurt your self-esteem." I give Meenah more credit than that - her attitude is part of a facade - but she could indeed be thinking exactly that. On the other hand, she might actually genuinely not know if he's "fo' real", one, and two, what she'd even do on his planet. ... Also, is John really asking a girl over to his place? He truly IS an adult. :P

"She finally appears to make up her mind. MEENAH: naaah" Hah, as if it's a drag for her. And what's her motivation then?

"MEENAH: ok for one thing genius MEENAH: im dead" Well, that's not a problem, though she wouldn't know. John still has the Ring of Life with him. But I wonder what the other reason is.

Hah, Blaperile points out that Meenah at one point told John specifically not to give her the ring, cause she didn't like how she turned out as Condesce. Right, she might think living is no longer her thing. Which is hilarious for a Life player. Still think John might make the proposition.

Also, she thinks she might not fit in with the others, but she doesn't have to worry. They're all disasters, one and all.

"MEENAH: i wont even last on your planet ill just like MEENAH: fade away or some shit MEENAH: i dont know what happens to ghosts in real places actually but ima guess it goes somefin like that" See also: what ever happened to Aranea after Game Over. :P

"MEENAH: anyway while you was floatin there i came up with my own plan" ? There's not a lot of options here, really. The Black Hole... Mugging John... Lazying about...

"JOHN: what is it? MEENAH: cmere MEENAH: gonna whisper it to you" Option A) she screams. Option B) she mugs him for the ring. Option C) she'll stab him again, assuming he's another hologram self.

"You lean in rather credulously, and bring your ear toward her cupped hand. MEENAH: (nerd)

You pull back, unamused by the prank. What is this, you think. Fucking amateur hour?" Hah, chances are high she just swiped the ring. Or the wallet. Once a Thief... But heheh, still funny how Meenah likes to prank. Seems like Condesce and Sassacre really found one another. :P

"MEENAH: reel cute you wanna be my savior blue boy MEENAH: but the fact is you already helped me out MEENAH: got everyfin i need from you MEENAH: sea ya round sucker! 38)" She putting the ring on now? But uh, she'd spawn on Earth C, right? Or right there?

"She’s laughing her ass off. Before you can react, she jams the button down on the beacon and opens the server. She jumps into the hatch and the door snaps closed behind her." ... What! WHAT??? ... She's not in cahoots with Alternate Calliope, is she? She might just be trying to defeat the end boss herself. At least, if the server still leads to where the Green Sun used to be.

"Oh shit." ... It doesn't lead to Dirk now, does it?

"I think I know what just happened. You might want to check your pockets." So, if she took the wallet and not the ring, that means what's inside the wallet is relevant to the plot!

"Sure enough, it’s missing. The Ring of Life you stole back from Aranea has been re-stolen. Bitch just picked your pocket. You got played, man." Wow. So she's actually decided to go through with getting resurrected. ... Although it could actually be for Alternate Calliope, but then what would even the implications of her resurrection be?? It would be a parallel to how Condy worked for LE. But if there's two alive Calliopes that ended up on Earth C, I suspect there might be an impersonation at one point.

Yeah, so if both wear a Ring of Life/Void... Maybe that'd have funky repercussions as well. Not to mention they're both versions of the same "ultimate self" - although 'our' Calliope's not a god tier, there might be a bleedover again, like with Jade. But Alternate Calliope might want to dispose of Calliope, if she wants to become the only version of them. Then again, she did specifically tell her other to go and enjoy life.

---

I wonder if it'll become relevant at any point that having everyone in the dreambubbles follow you would supposedly grant you the boon of resurrection. Since there's so few people left out here, it seems like it could have become a feasible thing to do. In fact, it might be that this is represented by Alternate Calliope's resurrection, if events really play out like that: Meenah might be the only other ghost left. Unless there are still the other A2 ghosts we're missing, from the character list.

[asoulofatlantis]

Ooooookay? O.o

Well... we’ve been walking non-stop. Just small breaks for fighting and fishing - since I have to feed that giant bird from before - and otherwise there was only jumping that we also did instead of walking ^^’

So... they took her away from her father just for her to an option? I thought she was THAT chosen girl, not she was one of many. And we still don’t know why Adol sees her past in his dreams.

It took 3 fighters to survive the trip here AND we had to stay over night to even make it here at all and this guy “just happened to be in the area”? What kind of bullshit is that?

This game has many different mechanics that I know from various different games. It makes it... interesting, so to speak ^^’

Oh boy...

She says that, but she got A LOT  more then you would usually manage to build on a deserted island ^^’

I have been chased by a big T-Rex at the place were I was supposed to search for new castaways. I am not sure were to go from here... given that the place with the fog drowns me...

I think I turn to a Walkthrough ^^’ Okay... I am supposed to run from that thing. I see.

If you knew what to do and were to go it was actually quite easy. But its not like its easy to just figure out were to run.

Hiding something? Or maybe not very social? Or maybe he just doesn’t like woman?

I think he simply doesn’t give a damn ^^’

Right now... the only things really moving forward the plot are those dreams our Hero here has of that Dana-Girl. And even those are getting shorter and are saying less every time. To be honest... at the moments its a bit boring.

Obviously people have stranded here before and a lot of them tried to survive here as well. So every now and then you find notes and stuff. And I would love to know if this “T” - Person we found notes from is actually still alive and if we will find him or her and why this persons name is only marked with a “T” instead of a full name. I mean... lets be real here, Falcom is trying to hide the persons identity. So this is either someone we know... or someone the characters know and are not supposed to immediately find out.

I will stop for today. I have to say that this chapter is far too long for my liking. The plot is barely moving forward, which makes it quite boring. To top it off, for a freaking island, the map is gigantic and the deeper you get, the more it becomes like a freaking maze. Finding your way back might not be hard, but finding your way to the place were you are supposed to go is often very hard, not counting in some overpowered monsters you met along the way that make things harder for you. Right now, I feel like I am playing this game were the plane crashed on a weird island and all you do is try to make them survive, just for them to end up “dead” anyway, after you actually made it through the game with all of them alive ^^’ Because all I do is improve live on the island and find castaways and all that by the means of exploring the islands forests and other places. Gathering food and other materials, for survival reasons. And that is... about it. Fighting monsters on the way doesn’t really make it any more interesting. The battle system is mostly okayisch if you get the hang of when to switch between characters - btw Adol screaming “Switch” gives me a weird SAO-Dejavu XD - so that is not really a problem, but when you do nothing but the mentioned stuff without getting much out of it - like... lets say... I don’t know... plot maybe? - fighting for hours and hours on a map that just doesn’t seem to stop making it hard for you, gets annoying at some point. I also have to say, this is obviously Falcom music and I do believe that Falcom has the best soundtracks for a lot of its games. However... if you hear the same music for two hours because that is how long you spend in the average “dungeon” or on certain parts of the map sometimes, then even the greatest music gets annyoing at some points. So when it comes down to it, at the moment, the games biggest problem is the pacing and everything that slows it down. Now, we only are at chapter 2 and often games get A LOT better as soon as the plot really kicks in, so no need to condem the Ys - Saga just yet or throw in the towel already. But I think I need to mention that this game is not off to a great start at the moment.