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midori-laboratories · 2 years

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Ashes In The Fall - Chapter 19: Paradise City IV

Book 2 of the Calendula Chronicles

Resident evil, Wesker X OC

Story Summary: Marigold Ashford escaped the mansion, only to face new incarceration with a familiar jailor. She may yet have to make a deal with the devil, if she can unearth what this Faustian bargain would cost her.

There is always something left to lose.

Chapter summary: Marigold takes an opportunity to place a secure call.

Seventeen years, and Poppy Turner (née Higgins) was still walking the perimeter of the estate. The Lady had left her the property in trust when she had left in the event of her…disappearance. The document had been co-signed by Alexander Ashford back in 1976, and no lawyer Spencer hired seemed particularly enthused about breaching a trust that was backed up by surprisingly alert, armed farmers.

Umbrella had managed to slip onto the property once or twice. They’d sent people to quietly enquire in the village about the nature of the estate. None came away with any satisfactory answers, and several learned entirely too much about the bloodlines of their neighbour’s sheep.

They found things that they seemed to be expecting. The ranges, bordering on public parkland, were left fallow, and allowed to be ‘discovered’. Just enough to confirm their expectations. After a year or so, Umbrella had seemed to lose interest.

Those who had lived on the estate were built cottages along the main road. Luther took it upon himself to train up a few livestock guardian puppies from a nearby flock, and regularly take them around the moors. Teaching them the lay of the land. The growing animals quickly found that there was refuge in the old priory, though it was never home. They’d rousted more than a few schoolchildren looking for ghosts in that wild and lonely moor.

Years ago, Marigold had planted roses in the priory at Poppy’s gentle prodding to get out of the house. She’d done so clumsily, a twenty-year-old heiress wilting under the weight of her own grief, cutting up her hands in the process. The Lady had not thought twice about it at the time; her cuts closed quickly, and the dirt washed away. The blood that had found their way into the roots though…

The roses had developed a strange life of their own. They seemed to lean toward those who had come under Lady Ashford’s influence, but lash out when under threat. The thorns they bore were sharper and longer than those Luther had kept up at the house, despite their sharing the same source. And if an intruder came…

Well. There was a reason it was better to keep outsiders clear of the place than to deal with a body. Marigold had long taken an old-world view of her condition, and the damned garden seemed determined to follow suit.

Sometimes Poppy walked the paths alone, her rifle open and loaded over her crooked arm. Sometimes Luther accompanied her. As the years passed, their children began to accompany them, never quite understanding the weight of the secret, but tickled that their family had a Secret Garden of their own to protect.

In the early 1990s, Umbrella’s interest had briefly flared once again. It seemed that Umbrella was treating the estate as an intelligence training exercise. The dogs, second-generation guardians, alerted them to the incursion, and Luther had taken a few potshots at a man creeping through the woods. That was the closest to real peril they had even got. Poppy had immediately got on the line to the youngest Lord Ashford, who had been finishing his studies in London back then. Afterward, no one else from the company had tried to break in.

Had they understood that the machinery of the Umbrella Corporation had grown to such an extent that they considered the matter of the Ashford estate a useless relic, they might have relaxed. As it stood, Poppy began to check in with Rockfort every few months - not to Lord Ashford directly, but with Harman, the old butler. Harman, who had attended the family back when it had been whole, and had departed with Alexander all those years ago.

Harman, who watched the garden grow from offshoots started in the priory, brought during Lady Ashford’s final visit. Harman had other priorities, of course. But his loyalty was sealed to the family as much as hers was. He watched as she watched, and waited.

They lived their lives. Their children began to grow up. They waited.

Then…the roses began to wake up.

It had been a subtle thing, starting late that summer. They had seemed….restless, almost. The dogs had whined nervously and refused to enter the priory, even though they had established their own safe corner, and it had always been a safe place to devour any rabbits they caught. Poppy’s blood ran cold at the sight.

She had called old Harman at Rockfort the next morning, off-schedule. Harman had been cagey, but he confirmed the same. Marigold had understood what she was doing more when she had planted the offshoot at the house, and it had bloomed under mindful care in a private garden.

Harman had seemed extremely nervous. Shaken. After more than a decade of watching Lord Ashford sink under the weight of the family legacy, something was happening.

That’s when she knew.

Lady Ashford, Marigold, somehow, was back. Escaped from whatever prison they had concocted over in America. As the weeks dragged in with no official word, Poppy’s daughter began to find news articles on the Internet about the strange murders that had been occurring in Raccoon City since the spring on the internet, and the disaster at Spencer Mansion.

Their concern only deepened. Something had gone terribly wrong, and Marigold had not -or could not - safely reach out on her own.

All they could do was wait.

----------

6:12 a.m.

Down, down down. Into the maelstrom, Marigold sank.

She’d been right. This was no place for serenity. The force that was rapidly consuming William Birkin was made of territorial rage. He, it, would have swatted her away with a vast sea of violence, costing her precious time to recenter and try again when his guard was up.

Oh, she was so very, very glad she was up here, and Birkin was securely locked behind steel and stone down there while she attempted this. There was no way she’d survive a direct encounter.

The experiences in the forest were nothing in comparison. Running into Marcus had been a confusing, fragmented, oily mess of a mind, one that she had just barely managed to ward off in her shocked state.

Wesker had initially maintained his distance, although that had been partially out of caution. Now, she could hardly trust that norm would be maintained, what with his increasing boldness. The scent of the T-virus had been getting stronger on him as well, now that she thought of it. Whether that was her influence, her increasing sensitivity, or simply the virus itself embedding itself deeper was both a question and a consequence she’d have to examine later.

Annette’s words, payment for a chance to maintain a dead zone within the NEST, rang out in her memory. You may wish you’d never woken up before long. I can’t imagine a more dangerous person alive holding your leash. The words had been bitter, but the sentiment was sincere.

This was like Sonnetroppe…were Sonnetroppe built on a foundation of steroids and cocaine. That high, piercing sensation heightened unbearably until she slammed into the gibbering remnants of William’s mind. All of the roiling, pent-up emotions of the last twenty years of his career were feeding into the virus. All he cared about was hunting down those who had wronged him…except that now included any human that he came across.

And what he was doing to them…nausea rose in Marigold. She swallowed hard, and slammed into him again.

Annette had better be ready for this, Marigold thought to herself. At the monster, she focused her will into a cold spike. That’s right, you little pissant. The real threat is in your head, not out there. Too bad for you that they didn’t let you play with the specimen, isn’t it? What was left of William roared in pain, and Marigold snarled back at him, focusing that current of stay the hell down anew.

----------

In the office, Ada had lingered at the doorway when the still form of Marigold snarled quietly in her chair, and began to issue a quiet stream of somewhat archaic yet utterly filthy threats. Or Welsh. Possibly both. Her head had fallen forward. In the amber light of the streetlamps outside, Ada could spy the top of a blackening bruise peeking out the back of the woman’s collar. Was that a….

Ada blinked, then turned on her heel, muttering “nope,” under her breath, over and over again. She still had more than enough time on the clock to retrieve the plans from the library. Whatever bioweapon fuckery was happening in there was something that didn’t need her input for a good…eighteen minutes more.

If Ada got out of the city alive, she’d have to corner the other woman for a good, long talk.

----------

Marigold’s mind continued to strike down against the mutating creature like an open fist, slamming down with all of the pain and rage she had been siphoning off over the last several weeks as she had gone into survival mode. All of the uncertainty, all of the sense of being made prey to entitled bastards with too much time on their hands. Annette’s words to her, not half an hour earlier, rang out in her memory.

The strength behind the G-Virus was obscene. It was taking all of her focus and energy just to contain it, even as it began to quiet and cower under blows it could not source. The mind bucked and lashed wildly at her like a bull, threatening to break her grip over and over again. But it was newborn. Inexperienced.

Marigold, on the other hand, had been teaching herself to temper her strength for decades. Now that she was going to the wall, it felt like she had been wearing lead weights all her life, and they had just been lifted.

The minutes passed. The alarm on Marigold’s wrist beeped, just once. Her lip curled, just a little, and she went in for the kill.

Below, the remnants of William Birkin cowered against the wall, temporarily visited by an emotion that should have been obliterated by now: pure, reptilian fear. Some little predator (PLACIDIA), striking at him from within his own mind. They had refused to let her return to her own territory, and now she was striking at him from what he had claimed in absolute sovereignty as his. Little floating creature, sleeping creature, now made of nightmares and hate and ambushing PAIN.

Without a solid enemy to fight, William’s will began to falter, and it crept into a nearby lab where he had already implanted several nearby scientists. Their bodies lay strewn about him, ignored as he searched desperately for shelter.

That entity, the nightmare, reared back once more and drove a spike of PAIN through William’s skull. You like tests, don’t you William? The voice cooed at him. Let’s run one.

‘William’ screamed, then passed out.

----------

Devon, England (six hours ahead)

Poppy stumbled in the middle of the path during her midday walk, eyes going wide with shock. Luther, bless him, caught her arm. If it weren’t for the walking stick in her other hand, they both would have tumbled on the well-concealed moorland path.

Poppy

She knew that voice, would always know it. Poppy made a noise between a gasp and a cry. Luther stilled, like he had heard a faraway voice on the wind.

The voice sounded distraught. Strained. Lady Marigold was a woman of iron will by necessity. The last time she had been so clearly distraught was…

The time she had come home from Romania. When something terrible - she’d never told any of them the details - had been set in her path by Lord Spencer, and the Lady’s heart had been closed to that family friend forever.

Poppy, I got out, but they followed me he followed me

The Lady had indeed been freed from her imprisonment and was genuinely in distress. There was a strange sharp energy **backing **the words. It reminded her of a radio, like someone breaking into a modern heavy metal piece with a news report, but using the shrill music to buoy its own signal.

I think he’s coming for them Poppy they’re alive I don’t understand but

Luther met Poppy’s eye, and she shook her head. She wanted to deny the words. The anguish in them narrowed the subjects to only two people. If this were true…she wanted to deny it.

But Marigold had been missing for almost two decades, and this felt like a stolen moment, this little, horrified message. Marigold was always prone to dramatics, absolutely, but she never lied outright. Even when she withheld information - and that was a regular occurrence- she’d been honest with her that she was doing it. Poppy had no idea that Marigold could even send this far - she could barely manage to do it across the property before.

“She doesn’t have her medication,” She said, numb, reaching for the first thing that made sense, as if any of this could ever in this damned Shakespearean diorama. If Luther produced a skull from his pocket right now and started addressing it as the missing Lady, she’d very well lose her mind -

Teig O’Kane

And just like that, her mind cleared, the moment ended. The pair remained frozen for a long moment before Poppy levered herself back up to full height. They stared at eachother.

“Teig O’Kane?” Poppy echoed in a baffled voice. “Where have I heard that?”

Luther groaned. “It’s an old Irish fairy tale. A boy’s forced by the good folk to carry a corpse on his back until he can find a churchyard to bury it under. The old family loved their riddles.” He tucked Poppy’s hand under his elbow. “Come on,” he grumbled. “I’ve got to get a shovel from the cottage shed, and maybe a few of the lads.” He started walking again, towing Poppy gently along. “Whatever she’s pointed you at is buried under the flagstones of the damned priory, and somebody’s got to calm the bloody flowers for long enough to get the stones up.”

----------

Marigold snapped back to her surroundings, just in time to catch a book being lobbed at her face in one hand.

Ada stood in the doorway, looking bemused…and not a little wary. “Twenty minutes,” She reminded.

Marigold grinned, partly out of adrenaline-fuelled relief and partly in triumph. “Twenty minutes.” The look on her face must have been manic, as the balance of Ada’s expression shifted hard towards wary.

“Do I even want to know?” Ada asked.

Marigold actually snorted - something her instructors had worked hard to groom out of her in her youth - but her face relaxed as her heartbeat began to finally slow. “You have to report something, don’t you?” She tried to push herself to her feet, then wobbled as her legs refused to hold her. “I think I need a minute. That…cost.”

“What did?” Ada’s curiosity was getting the better of her.

Beating the absolute shit out of William Birkin, she thought, keeping the thought small and tight, aimed at Ada alone. Was this what it felt like to be drunk? It had been so long, but it might have been.

Aloud, she said, “There’s an outbreak below. The whole area around the station is radiating with it. If I get into the details right now, we’ll lose too much time. I needed to see if I could contain…the worst one.” A term finally came to her. “I think I’m a little punch-drunk.” She covered the giggle chasing those words with a hand.

Ada continued to stare. Finally, she spoke. “An outbreak. Beneath us.”

Marigold rapidly lost her sense of mirth. “Yes. There’s been one building in the city anyhow, but this is gasoline on a campfire.”

Ada glanced back, then down. “Fucking Birkins.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think I just kicked the absolute shite out of what’s left of him,” Marigold offered. “I owed him that much. I…pay my debts.” She held Ada’s eye on that last part, then tried to stand again, managing to keep her feet this time. “I’d appreciate not being named a vindictive bitch in your report, but it wouldn’t be inaccurate. That’s hardly even news.”

Ada stared at her, then allowed a slow smile. “If I get out of here alive, I think we should be friends.”

Marigold, now weary and riding the last of her adrenaline, smiled back.

#ashes in the fall #calendula chronicles #marigold ashford #albert wesker x oc #resident evil fanfiction

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meandmypagancrew · 4 years

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Musical theatre challenge: 8 songs

5: Hero, Ghost Quartet

#mtc #ghost quartet #brittain ashford #dave malloy #this one was a weird choice because there's almost no staging #gifs of it are really boring #but i had to include it because i love it so much #the song itself is so beautiful but also as the head of rose's arc #dave malloy is a genius #i truly and genuinely believe that he is a genius #and he is proof that the myth of the tortured artist is just a myth #you can make beautiful art and then you can go home to your wife #you don't have to cut off your ear #or fill your pockets with stones and walk into the ocean #you can be gentle and good and kind and happy and still make good art

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theparanormalperiodical · 3 years

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Pluckley might be the most haunted village in the UK, but the paranormal ain’t the problem

I remember the first time I went to Pluckley.

I *think* it was the summer of 2017, so it was one of those long, university summers where I did feck all for 3 months. I had just started exploring the world of the paranormal, so, of course, Kent’s most haunted village was on my to-do list.

I came armed with a screenshot of a village map on my phone, some sunscreen and a best mate in-tow.

Pluckley is legendary amongst us paranormalists, with no less than 12 ghosts laying claim to the small village - which only has a living population of around 1000. But we didn’t bump into the Red Lady in the local churchyard, or the ghostly monk wandering the local roads. Instead, we spent about and hour and a half walking along 60mph roads in 27 degree heat, trying to find out where the haunted pub was and how far was it to Dering Woods and holy shit the next train home is in 23 minutes!

Frustrating as the experience was, it resonated with something I had uncovered in my earlier research of the area.

The residents of Pluckley hate people like me visiting their village. They hate randoms traipsing round the gravestones of their relatives looking to catch a glimpse of a ghost at St Nick’s. They hate people clogging up the local pub and inquiring about the spirits lingering there. And they hate the wave of tourists that crash onto their shores in the week preceding Halloween.

"It's a nice village and these stories ruin it and give us hassle we don't need." Source

Over the years, journalists have trooped to the village just outside of Ashford and asked locals what they think of the legends. They typically claim they joined in on the fun as kids, pulling pranks and sharing stories to keep the dead, well, alive, or had no idea their hometown was famous around the world for its legends.

Even the beating heart of the village - their local pub, The Black Horse - has been recently taken over by owners determined to distance themselves from its paranormal past. That being said, even as the renovated their latest purchase, they experienced a series of strange occurrences. Most notably, equipment mysteriously breaking.

Whether these legends are to be believed is of course up to you. And of course, you do have a right to park up, wander ‘round and harass locals about these ghost stories until they tell you to f*ck off. But Pluckley, like so many other supposedly haunted locations, is just a place. It’s sleepy, it’s small and it’s not that enjoyable to wander around its residential areas for an entire day.

(Don’t get me wrong, it does have some lovely footpaths, but most of the time I was stuck walking at the side of the road trying to find the spookiest places.)

So, here’s some of my top tips for being respectful when you visit paranormal places like Pluckley.

#1 - Study up first

If the locals aren’t too keen to talk about local legends, make sure you do your research before hand so you know what you’re looking for, where you can find it and the full story behind it.

You’ll want to draw as little attention as possible to the fact that you’re there to seek out the spirits of Dering Woods or learn more about the local ghost monk.

Even knowing where you can park without disturbing the local residents is just a small thing you can do to ensure you’re not getting in anyone’s way.

#2 - Come with a fully-fledged itinerary

Every time I’ve gone to Pluckley, I’ve drained my phone using Google Maps trying to work out where each spooky hotspot is. Even working out how to get into the local pub took waaay to long (it’s through the gate and at the side, if you’re wondering).

Next time, I’ll be doing my research to make sure I have a distinct route to follow, taking in each local legend without having to troop back and forth to different spots, and know how to find each one. No more dithering about how to enter the woods or find the right church.

For places as simple or residential as Pluckley - that is, they don’t have tourist signs pointing out each ghost sighting - this is crucial to having an enjoyable day out and not pestering locals that won’t be willing to point you in the direction of their urban legend.

#3 - Find out how open the locals are about the legends

Pluckley’s locals might be a bit hesitant to discuss their home’s reputation, but some towns and villages might be up for it. When you do your research into the legends, research how the locals feel about it, too.

Read reviews on Google for each location, see whether websites for local places have content dedicated to it on their websites or if there are tourist facilities dedicated to paranormal visitors there. If in doubt, assume they don’t want to talk about it - better safe than sorry!

And even if the locals aren’t willing to speak about hauntings, they’ll be happy to discuss their history with you.

#4 - Don’t forget to celebrate the living, too!

Even small villages like Pluckley are full of cute shops, boutique cafes and historic pubs. While you’re not trying to harass the locals, why not give something back to them?

Also, speaking honestly, wandering around residential areas isn’t that exciting. You don’t want to waste a day looking for paranormal activity that (probably) won’t happen.

If you liked this blog, make sure you leave a like and reblog it to let me know! And while you’re there, don’t forget to hit follow.

I’m trying to get into posting more regularly, again, but I’m just kinda doing what feels right.

#pluckley #most haunted #haunted #real ghost stories #true ghost stories #ghost stories #zak bagans #Ghost Hunters #ghost hunting #paranormal #supernatural #horror #horror movies #best horror movies

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winterscaptain · 4 years

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a kindness.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: it is loving megan kane hours!! i’ve been working on this one for a while and i am so excited to share it with you!! we have ajf!pleasure is my business at last! as always, tell me what you think!! i adore your feedback. also, if you’re thinking ‘what the hell, tali! why am i missing from the tag list?????’ it’s because i redid it! the link to the form is below.

words: 4.8k warnings: language, canon-typical death, canon-typical discussion of sex work

summary: “i believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy.” ― steve martin. au!february 2009

a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

You rap twice on the office door before pushing it open with your fingertips, peering inside while ready to retreat at a moment’s notice.

There’s no need. Aaron’s alone.

“You’re here early,” he says, his eyes still on his paperwork.

You snort. “So are you.”

He looks at you over his nose. “Can I help you with something?”

Sitting down opposite him at his desk, you prop your chin on your hands and grin at him. “You stole my line.”

“Get out of my office.”

Your smile stays plastered on your face as you stand and cross the room, closing the door behind you. On your way out, you catch the ghost of his smile.

+++

You watch Hotch leave the bullpen, his go-bag slung over his shoulder.

“Where you headed?” You ask, looking up. You’re still the only one in the bullpen, taking a few consults off your teammates’ hands by typing up quick briefs they can review without going through every single comma in the file.

He sighs. “Dallas.”

Yikes.

“By yourself?”

He sighs. “Standby - not sure what’s going on yet. Can you -” He gestures to the hallway behind you.

You nod and stand. “Yeah. Fly safe.”

After you watch him leave, you turn and make a beeline for JJ’s office. She’s here early, too - pushing away the separation anxiety by diving into work.

“Jayje?”

She looks away from her computer, looking exhausted. “Yeah?”

“Hotch just left for Dallas - we might have a case there, but it didn’t sound like something that would come across your desk.”

She squints. “Why d’you say that?”

“He had that look on his face like he was going into a room full of lawyers.”

+++

You lean forward, jamming yourself into the circle around the table with the rest of your team. Hotch, on the other end of the line, sounds oddly well-rested.

Spencer, as usual, gives you the history and textbook briefing before you get to the actual case. “Female serial killers are a fascinating field. We don't have much information on them, but what we do know involves throwing the rules completely out the window. Signature, for instance. They don't torture or take trophies.”

“Because there’s no sexual gratification when a woman kills,” Derek adds.

Looks like we’re all getting in on the pre-brief today.

“Exactly. Murder is the goal. They don't have to do anything extra.”

That makes you laugh a little. “So, basically, women are more efficient at killing?”

Spencer shrugs. “Historically, they’ve had body counts in the hundreds.”

Hotch, of course, is the one to get you all back on track. “So, assuming that the job is the stressor, what are some of the reasons prostitutes kill their customers?”

Derek, of course, is the first to follow. “Money, drugs, post-traumatic stress disorder…”

The team bounces for a moment, covering previous cases of serial killers with a history of sex work. Emily brings up Allison Wuornos, but Aaron shuts it down. He thinks this killer is organized, not so much driven by trauma or need but the mission itself.

Spencer looks at the medical examiner’s reports again, comparing notes between the victims. “She’s using tetra-methylene-disulfotetramine.”

You don’t look up from the same report. “Bless you.”

Emily snorts.

Spencer continues, unperturbed. “It’s a popular rat poison in China - easily soluble in alcohol.”

“Poison is the perfect M.O.,” Dave notes. “Quiet, quick, and the victims never see it coming because they think they’re getting lucky.” He turns back toward the phone. “Does that mean something to you?”

“Well, at $10,000 a night, these men are paying for discretion as well as sex.”

Fair point.

“She has a history with them. They see her repeatedly.”

You look over at Dave, trying to find the thread that connects Aaron’s thought to his.

Before you can really get to it yourself, Aaron spells it out for you. “She didn't decide to kill them in the moment. She walks in with the intent to kill them and she's doing it before she sleeps with them.”

There we go.

“So she's not just organized,” you add. “She's also methodical. Could she be parsing out which clients are worth killing and which aren’t?”

“Maybe the victims all share the same fetish?” Emily offers.

Derek shrugs, his eyebrows raised in thoughtful agreement. “Both victims were in their fifties, highly visible. Careful about their image. I mean, if they were kinky in the same way, they'd go to great lengths to hide it.”

“And we're facing a corporate culture that'll do everything it can to keep us out.”

There’s the exhaustion I’m used to from Hotch.

He sounds weird without it.

“Actually,” JJ says, “I had some luck there. Hoyt Ashford's wife isn't too happy with how he died. But because every silver lining has a dark cloud, the hedge fund released a statement.”

JJ pulls the statement from her file and reads aloud: “Ashford died peacefully in his home, according to lawyer David Madison.” She puts it down again. “They're already trying to close ranks.”

Spencer frowns. “Does that language sound familiar to anyone else?”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“The press release from the first victim.” He recalls, not needing the paper itself. “‘According to company lawyer, Stanton died peacefully in his home.’”

Hotch begins to make assignments, directing Emily and Derek to the wife of the second victim. JJ’s tasked with the lawyers and you’re tasked with setup at the precinct with Spencer and Dave. When he’s done, you pick your phone up from the table, taking him off speaker.

“What are you gonna do?” You ask.

Hotch snorts. “I’m gonna see which of the lawyers calls us back and in the meantime, see what I can get out of anyone else.”

“Good luck.”

+++

You’re up in your hotel room, getting a little bit settled and unpacked when you get a call to your cell.

“Hey, Hotch.”

There’s a sigh. “We got another body.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs in five.”

+++

You hop out of the car, following Aaron through the service entrance and up the back hallways to the lobby. Between your travel from your room and Aaron’s wrap-up in his, Derek and Dave beat you to the scene.

Hotch is wearing that coat - your favorite, the one he’s apparently had for years - with the red lining and the soft wool exterior. It so rarely sees the field anymore you were afraid he’d done away with it, but every time you remember it exists and worry about its whereabouts, he brings it out again.

Derek hands you a notebook when you reach him. You settle near Dave for the rest of the info. He, of course, delivers.

“Victim was Joseph Fielding. He was the CFO here.”

You frown. “Poisoned? Like the others?”

“And staged,” Derek says. “She killed him in his office and then rolled him out here to be found.”

“The lipstick's new,” you muse, circling the body in the elevator. “Done postmortem, it looks like.” You find Derek’s eyes with a little frown. “Reid said female serial killers don't leave a signature. I think she did that just for us. She's already exposed him at his most vulnerable.”

He hums. “Now she wants to be noticed.”

There’s some kind of scuffle at the police line - another man in a suit who thinks he’s more important than God.

Hopefully he’s looking for Hotch.

“Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?”

Ugh. Good.

You step back and point at Aaron, getting out of his way as he shoves past the crime scene techs.

Aaron turns. “I'm Hotchner.”

“Larry Bartlett.” The man holds out his hand, but Aaron doesn’t take it. He retracts his hand with an unperturbed tilt of his head. “I represent Mr. Fielding in Webster Industries.

Hotch, as usual, has no time for his bullshit. “This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett.”

My lawyer could kick your lawyer’s ass.

That’s a good bumper sticker.

You shake off your thought and return to the victim, directing one of the younger crime scene techs. After a moment, you return to Derek’s side.

“Yes. I spoke to Ellen Daniels.” This clown still sounds far too confident for his own good. “She said you're a very... reasonable man.”

“Escort him out, please.”

You stifle a laugh.

“No, wait. Please.” The lawyer - Mr. Bartlett - shrugs off the security team and chases after Hotch on his way to your side.

Aaron stops, but looks inconvenienced in the extreme.

“The press is outside and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?”

“We're not about to lie for you.” Derek’s even less amused than Aaron, if that’s even possible.

Aaron squints at the other lawyer, and you find it nearly impossible to tear your gaze from the little pinch at the corners of his brown eyes.

You can only imagine him behind a prosecutor’s bench, laying into witnesses with the same deadpan amusement - like a bored cat with a half-dead mouse. Hoping to back him up a little bit, you get a little closer, looking skeptically at the lawyer from over Aaron’s shoulder.

“You don't have to lie,” Mr. Bartlett insists, his eyes flickering to you. “Just don't comment.”

“Excuse us.” He takes you by the shoulder and leads the three of you into a huddle.

“Is there any reason to go public yet?” Aaron asks.

Dave wavers. “Validating her is exactly what she wants.”

“If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake,” Derek says.

You raise your eyebrows, looking over your shoulder for a moment. “He doesn't need to know that.”

Hotch’s mouth twitches, and you know it’s almost a smile. He turns over his shoulder, back in game mode as he approaches Bartlett again. “We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails, everything.”

+++

“Eighteen cars, six houses, and three boats.” Spencer rattles off the numbers with only the barest hint of shock in his voice.

Your brow pinches and you look up. “Can you even boat in Dallas?”

“You know, when you're talking about that much money, ten grand for a call girl is like deciding where to go for dinner.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience, Em,” you laugh.

She rolls her eyes, still pinning photos to the board. “Yeah, right. My mom had a pretty cushy gig with her postings, but we were never that well-off. But...” She looks over her shoulder, “I’m sure Rossi would know a little something about that.”

Before you can all get too out of control, Hotch reaches over you to connect to Garcia on the speakerphone. “Are you there, Garcia?”

“Affirmative.”

JJ flags him down. “I have half a million over here for something called the Bat Cave...”

It really takes everything in you not to laugh.

“...and here's a picture of him as fetish Batman. That is… wrong.”

Emily pulls a face.

“Is there anything this guy didn't like to spend money on?” Spencer asks.

“Yeah,” Aaron replies. “His ex-wives. Fielding was married four times. He didn't have prenups for the first two, but he did everything he could to cut them off anyway.”

You lean forward, trying to see the paper in his hands. “Are there children involved?”

“Yes, with three of the wives.” He hands it over to you and looks at Emily. “Hoyt Ashford was married a few times, too, wasn't he?”

She nods in the affirmative.

“You know, considering that when Kevin takes me to dinner and a movie, he defaults on his student loans, this amount of money is sick.”

Tell me about it, Pen.

Emily sounds resigned. “What did you find?”

Garcia outlines a series of bitter court battles about child support, alimony, custody, etc. “And even when the court ruled in the wife’s favor - which was almost always - these three charmers just, you know, decided not to pay.”

Hotch asks for a cross-checked list of high-profile Dallas CEOs holding out on their ex-wives, and you figure it’s not a short one.

“One loaded losers list, Dallas edition, comin' at ya. Penelope out.”

The line goes dead and Aaron turns off the speaker.

“So,” Aaron leans heavily on the table. “Why would a prominent businessman who could easily pay child support refuse to?”

Spencer obliges. “For this type of overachieving personality, paying money after the marriage ends probably offends him.”

“They're spending tens of thousands on an escort, but they won't drop a dime on their wife and kids? That's cold.” JJ shakes her head and looks over at Hotch, seeking an answer.

“Narcissistic, self-absorbed, a pathological avoidance of paternal responsibilities.”

There’s an odd kind of look that passes over Aaron’s face as he speaks, and you pin it for later. You can already tell he’s falling into a headspace that’s fraught with comparison and self-loathing.

They bounce around for a moment while you keep your eyes on Aaron.

“Well,” JJ brings you back. “Should I assemble the police for a profile?”

Your mouth twists. “I just don't think it's gonna help.”

“She lives in a completely different world than they do,” Aaron adds.

“And,” Emily pipes up, “the CEOs who sleep with her won't admit to it.”

JJ snorts. “Like I couldn't even get past the team of lawyers protecting them.”

“What if we give the profile to the corporate lawyers?” Aaron stands straight, his hands resting on his hips. “They've cleaned up after her, even if they don't realize that they've seen this woman.”

“Why would they go for that?” You ask.

“Because she's putting them at risk, too.”

Your phone rings and you answer as you always do, chirping your last name into the receiver without really looking too closely at the caller ID.

“Hey, it’s me.”

You nod once to your team as you step out of earshot. “Hey, Haley.”

“I can’t get a hold of Aaron. Is everything alright?” She’s beyond surprise or concern at this point. You’re sure you could tell her Aaron’s been shot in the head and she’d probably just hum at you.

“Yeah,” you say with a sigh. “Things are crazy and there are lawyers all wrapped up in this. Are you alright?”

“Jack’s got a fever - I just wanted to let Aaron know I’m taking him in to get checked out. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll let him know. Give Jack a big kiss from me and I’ll do my best to get us all home quickly and in one piece.”

She laughs a little into the phone. “Thanks. Will do. Talk soon.”

You hang up and return to the table, shooting Hotch a significant look. He nods and pulls you aside.

“What’s up?”

“Jack has a fever - Haley just wanted me to let you know she’s taking him to the pediatrician to get him all checked out, just in case. I told her we’d all do our best to get home soon.”

Aaron sighs and flips his phone in his hand. “I’ll call her now…”

“No need. She knows this is a tough one and you’re getting your money’s worth out of your JD this week.”

When he starts to walk away, you call his name again. He turns.

“You know - um.” You wet your lips and swallow. “You’re not like these guys. You know that, right? You’re a great dad.”

His face lifts in surprise for a fraction of a second before he recovers.

“Thank you,” He says. “Really.”

You offer him a crooked smile. “Anytime.”

+++

Hotch stops you all before you enter the conference room, full to the brim with suits and pantsuits. “Let me lead on this one. I’ve handled corporate lawyers like this before and they can smell blood.” He snorts. “This time, it’s their own.”

You and Derek raise your hands in simultaneous and identical postures of surrender.

“Have at it,” you say, falling into line behind Aaron. “Corporate lawyers scare the fuck out of me.”

+++

“Hey, Prentiss. Got a whip?” Derek holds the leather outfit to Emily’s shoulders and she laughs.

“Yeah, right.”

You fondly roll your eyes at them and continue following off Aaron’s right shoulder. The two of you reach the bookshelf - an impressive glass case that runs from the floor to the ceiling.

Aaron’s gloved finger opens the case and runs over some of the spines. “Antique first editions on the bookshelves.”

Rossi quips something about porn in the DVD player while Spencer espouses about the merits of a disposable, adaptable lifestyle in this line of work.

“Well, these aren't just for show,” Aaron says. “The spines are cracked. Somebody's read these.”

You peer over his shoulder. “Who reads Voltaire in French?”

“Someone with good taste. Probably well-educated…”

You pick up where he trails off. “We profiled that she learned to fake privilege. What if she's not faking it?”

“You're saying maybe she came from money the whole time?”

You shrug. “It’s a possibility, at least.”

Just then, the apartment phone rings.

“Prentiss should answer,” Aaron says. “If it's a customer, she'll get more information out of them.”

You hum, hedging your bets a little. ‘Unless she's calling in for her messages.”

Too late. Derek’s already on the phone with Penelope. “Yeah, Baby Girl, we're getting a call to this line. Can you work some magic?”

“I don't have a trap-and-trace in place yet. Give me a few. I'm gonna stay on the line.”

Aaron gives her the go-ahead. “Prentiss, get ready to vamp.”

The voicemail picks it up before Emily can so much as reach for the phone.

“Hi, it's me. You know what to do.” Beep.

“...Aaron.”

You turn your head so fast you throw your neck out. You raise a hand to the crick and work it with your fingers. Aaron’s too busy frowning at the phone to notice.

“I know you're up there. Pick up… Aaron Hotchner... Hello?” She drags out her words, almost flirting with everyone listening.

With a sigh, Aaron pushes past the rest of you, silently counts to three, and picks up the phone while Emily clicks the speakerphone button.

“I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, But I don't know yours. Can we start there?”

Nice start.

The game has begun.

“I thought I could trust you, Aaron.”

What?

The pinch between his brows deepens. “Who says you can't?”

“I want to. I even looked you up online. Is that strange?”

Yes.

“No.” Aaron wets his lips and begins to pace, the gears whirring in his head. “It's flattering to be noticed by a woman like you.”

The woman continues as if he hasn’t said anything at all. “And I thought you were so... upstanding. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings. I found it posted on YouTube...”

She has good taste. That’s an excellent presentation.

“...And for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world.”

“But I've disappointed you, haven't I?” He asks. “Just like all the other men in your life Who've walked out on their families, Who deserve to be punished.”

“Did you walk out on your family?”

His eyes flicker to you and you nod, nearly imperceptibly, reminding him he’s not alone. “No. My wife left me.”

“Do you have kids?”

“I have a son.”

A sweet, thoughtful, perfect son.

You smile a little, thinking of Jack, but it disappears when you remember that he’s home sick with Haley, probably having a miserable time.

“How often do you see him?” She asks.

“I try to see him every week.”

“Do you see him every week?” The question is mocking, smothered in dark amusement that could almost be called sarcasm save for its bitterness.

“No,” Aaron’s eyes fall to the floor. “No, I don't get there as often as I want.”

“I believe you.” Her response is softer, and you think she might make a decent profiler if she wasn’t on the other side.

She is a profiler.

In some ways, you suppose it’s true. She has to read and respond to everything her clients do, say, how they behave. It makes her good at her job and you good at yours.

Same skillset, very different application.

“But don't compare yourself to the men I see,” she continues. “You are nothing like them. You're just another whore.”

Never in my life did I ever think I’d hear someone call Aaron Hotchner a whore. Unironically.

That catches everyone’s attention, even Derek’s, still on hold with Penelope.

“How am I a whore?” He asks.

“You come when called. You do their bidding. In hotels you take the side elevator to avoid crowds, while the men who pay your salary walk across the ivory marble foyer into their cars.”

Derek, behind you, presses. “Garcia.”

You can hear her, faintly. “I'm in on the landline. Triangulating the cell. Give me like sixty seconds.”

You gesture to Aaron when he looks. Keep going.

He nods. “But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?”

She sighs, sounding a little impatient for the first time. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you want to show the world all these bad men and my investigation's just getting in your way.”

“No, Aaron.” You almost startle, her tone escalating to a deeply frustrated shout. “You're not doing your job! You don't want to arrest me, you don't want me in custody because you're in their pocket.”

She’s crying now, actively. “You just want me to disappear, just like they do.”

“Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you.”

Now that’s a tone you recognize - you’ve heard it when he talks to Haley. Most recently, when he couldn’t make it to some appointment or another. It’s one that’s disarming in the extreme, soft, but not condescending.

“You've been betrayed so many times, You don't know who to trust, And that's why that first murder felt so good. But each one since has been less and less satisfying. You know that's going to continue.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Am I right?”

Just like Haley always does, the woman loses steam, sniffling once before answering. “Yeah.”

“Come to me and turn yourself in. I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear.”

“If we met under different circumstances... I could believe that. I won't let you cover this up.”

A gunshot rings through the line and you flinch, turning to Derek just as the line goes dead. You know Penelope will have something for you soon.

She never fails, directing you to an address only moments after the elevator doors close in front of the team.

+++

Once you found Megan Kane, it was easy enough to find her father.

You could empathize with her mission well enough after meeting him. He’s shrouded by his lawyers - detached and seemingly indifferent to anything Aaron had to say.

Aaron starts the car and you settle back into the seat. “So, the wall of lawyers strikes again.”

A shadow of a smile ghosts around the creases at the corners of his eyes. “So it seems.”

“What’s next?”

“We tail him - home and office. He’ll meet with her soon enough.”

Your brow furrows. “Not to protect her, right? It doesn’t seem like he cares that much.”

Aaron turns, placing his hand on the back of your seat as he pulls out of the parking spot. You’re momentarily distracted as he turns back, spinning the wheel with the heel of his hand and gunning it out of the garage.

Focus.

“No,” he says. “Think about it.”

It comes to you only seconds later. “To protect himself.”

“There you go.” He turns to you, another little smile threatening. “You’re getting pretty good at this.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve been here over a year, Hotch. I’d fucking hope so.”

You’re rewarded with a real smile, and it’s enough.

+++

You take Derek’s six through the hotel, clearing the floors and reporting back to the rest of the team. SWAT is in full deployment, clearing the hard-to-reach areas like the stairways and rooftops, just in case.

Aaron catches up to you, taking the four o’clock position off your left shoulder as Derek breaches the door.

The gun and chilled champagne sit like ironic centerpieces on the entry table, but they hardly use any of your bandwidth as you clear the room, your vision narrowed by the sight of your service weapon.

You hold a hand up when you catch the figure on the balcony. “Hotch.”

He squints, and you move to raise your gun again and make the arrest, but he stops you with a hand over yours. “Easy.”

There’s a question in your eyes.

He, of course, answers it. “She knows it’s over.”

Just then, she places an empty champagne glass on the table where you can see it.

“I’ll call 911,” Derek says, stepping out and closing the door behind him.

You turn to leave with Derek, but catch Aaron’s open hand, subtly signaling you from just under his hip.

Stay here. It says. Stay close.

So, you stay. You lean on the far wall of the hotel room, watching Aaron hold the hand of this dying, hurting woman. They’re speaking softly, and she smiles at him when she drops something into his hand. His eyes are soft, gentle, not even searching. Just warm.

You feel for her.

It’s the best way to go, you think. If there was ever a time you were dying before your time, you��d want Aaron there, holding your hand, telling you he was going to continue the work that killed you, that it was gonna be okay.

“How could your wife have ever left someone like you?” You hear her ask.

As much as you love Haley, the same question often floats through your head, and your heart aches for this woman who’s been able to see Aaron so clearly, even if she’s only seeing him for the first time now.

“You’re the first man I’ve ever met who hasn’t let me down.”

You creep forward, further into Aaron’s eyeline, and sit on the edge of the couch. She’s close to her last breath and you can feel it - so can Aaron. His eyes flicker to you for a moment before returning to her.

Megan’s voice is full of tears when she asks, “Will you stay with me?”

You have a feeling it isn’t the first time she’s asked the question and you find yourself hoping Emily will be particularly rough with the handcuffs when she apprehends Mr. Kane. Hopefully he didn’t make it past the checkpoint and is still on-site.

“Yes.” Aaron is solemn, so sincere, so genuine it makes your heart ache.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You’re not even sure he realizes it, but he’s doing her a great kindness - one that many would not offer.

It’s because he is good.

A good man.

The tension drains out of her, and she grips tightly to Aaron’s hand as she fights through her final breaths. His hands are gentle, his attention only on her. He looks more like a father in this moment than any other time you’ve known him. She’s safe. She knows she can die in peace.

Once more, you hope you have the opportunity to leave this plane of reality in such safety, when your time comes.

When she’s gone, he places her hand in her lap and takes a moment to brush the hair off of her face, pressing the back of his fingers to her temple as if checking her for fever.

After a minute or so, he turns to you, and you hope the pride and respect coursing through you is evident in your gaze. You pull an evidence bag out of your pocket, but he shakes his head, pocketing the SIM card.

You rise as he gets closer, returning the evidence bag to your pocket. He’s clearly affected, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes.

Opening your arms to him, he wilts into you, allowing you to gather him into your shoulder. His arms are loose around your waist, his fingers wrapped around his opposite wrist as an anchor. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability and you’d hate to make him feel anything less than safe.

You still have a minute or so before they all come stomping through the door to collect Megan’s body.

“I’m sorry, Hotch.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know why this one hurts.”

Your arms tighten around him. “It’s okay. I feel it, too.”

A deep, shaky breath rolls through him.

“She’s right, you know.” You almost regret your words, afraid you’re giving yourself away.

“What?”

“You didn’t let her down. You’re a good man.”

His jaw tightens, and you can feel it against your neck where his head falls into your shoulder.

“Oh, stop. You’ve never let me down.” Your hand reaches up, stroking the back of his head, carding your fingers through the hair. “She died knowing you kept your promise.”

+++

You look up to Aaron’s office when news of the leak breaks, finding his silhouette haunting the window, staring at the television.

A ghost of a smile crosses his face, and he turns back to his desk, settling back down to work.

+++

tagging: @aaronhotchnerr @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygrangerwriting @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @kerrswriting @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @reids-mismatchedsocks @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @venusbarnes @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @nuvoleincielo @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @jhiddles03 @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #tali talks cm #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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probablygayattorneys · 3 years

Text

Not that anyone is interested in my shitty music tastes, but while playing Great Ace Attorney, I had a lot of moments where it would make me think of a specific song, so I made those into a playlist! Some make sense, most don't, but check the source and the reblogs for the link! Set list and specific lyrics under the jump.

1. I'm With You - Avril Lavinge

it's a damn cold night trying to figure out this life

won't you take me by the hand, take me somewhere new?

i don't know who you are, but i, i'm with you

2. Leaves From The Vine (Extended ver.) - Caleb Hyles (originally from Avatar: The Last Airbender)

leaves on the wind, where do they go?

they flutter, spin and drift along, dancing to the flow

little soldier boy, where is your home?

brave soldier boy, no longer home.

3. Go Tonight - The Mad Ones

so i sit in the vacuum you left behind

and i sift through each phrase for an ember

for a spark that will light cause i can't rewind

i unravel until i remember

4. Marjorie - Taylor Swift

i should've asked you questions, i should've asked you how to be

asked you to write it down for me

should've kept every grocery store receipt, cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

watched as you signed your name marjorie

all your closets of backlogged dreams,

and how you left them all to me

5. The Man - Taylor Swift

i'm so sick of running as fast as i can

wondering if i'd get there quicker if i was a man

and i'm so sick of them coming at me again

cause if i was a man, then i'd be the man

6. Sonya Alone - Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812

i know you've forgotten me,

i know you so well, my friend

i know you might just throw yourself over,

but i won't let you, i won't let you,

it's all on me.

7. Gravity - Sara Bareilles

you loved me cause i'm fragile

when i thought that i was strong

but you touch me for a little while

and all my fragile strength is gone

8. Who You Are - The Mountain Goats

i'm stuck in my confusion, but i know that you'll go far

you're chased by the horizon, because you know who you are

hope you remember who you are

9. The Sway - Brittain Ashford

close my eyes, wonder if it's ever enough to live you life in the simple sway of it

to the know the truth and be okay with it

hold it in your hands and walk away from it

i walked away

10. Break My Broken Heart - The King's Wife

none of this was ever easy,

i almost lost myself completely

i thought i knew what i was doing

why do i feel like i'm losing?

how could you do this?

11. Unravel - Jonathan Young (originally from Tokyo Ghoul)

we live in a world someone else imagined

the ghost of what's left of me all but vanished

remember my heart, how bright i used to shine

please, just don't forget me

12. X-Static Process - Madonna

jesus christ, will you look at me?

don't know who i'm supposed to be

don't really know if i should give a damn

when you're around, i don't know who i am

i always wished that i could find someone as beautiful as you

but in the process i forgot i was special too

13. Monster - Frozen the Musical

was i a monster from the start?

how did i end up with this frozen heart?

bringing destruction to the stage,

caught in a war that i never meant to wage.

do i kill the monster?

14. If I Were A Man - The Unofficial Bridgerton Musical

i guess as a lady there's just some things i'll never know

but if i were a man, i'd go to japan

maybe swim in the seine and learn to speak french

i'd have the whole world in the palm of my hand

i'd finally dow hat i could, but i can't

15. Home - Beetlejuice

mom?

i don't wanna forget you

i promise, i'm never gonna forget you

i'm gonna go back home

adam, barbara, delia, and dad

it's messy, but they're all that i have

i'll make the best of being flesh and bone

mama, i'm going home

16. Someone You'd Be Proud Of - The In-Between

it's time that i believe, expect i can achieve

and if i fail, at least i gave it all

it's time to choose what's right

instead of just to hide

maybe i can't change the world, but i can try

and do my best to be someone you'd be proud of

17. Nothing New - Taylor Swift

i know someday i'm gonna meet her in some fever dream

the kind of radiance you only have at 17

she'll know the way and then she'll say she got the map from me

i'll say i'm happy from her, then i'll cry myself to sleep

18. You'll Never Walk Alone - Josh Groban (originally from Carousel)

walk on, through the wind

walk on, through the rain

though your dreams be tossed and blown

walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart

and toy'll never walk alone

19. Use Well The Days- Annie Lennox

i will take the hidden paths that run

west of the moon and east of the sun

i'm glad that you are here with me,

here at the end of all things

night too shall be beautiful and blessed and it's fear will pass

i must leave, must cross the sea

the love you gave is all i take with me

20. Hope Comes- The Bengsons

i'm gonna fall down on my knees

will you say help me please, help me please?

we can say we are not alright, we are not alright

we can help each other, help each other get through the night

cause hope comes fro the center of the hurt

in the middle of the dirt we'll plant a seed and watch it grow into something we don't already know

that's an act of living.

#the great ace attorney chronicles #tgaac2 #mixtape #playlist #music recommendation #ryunosuke naruhodo #kazuma asougi #susato mikotoba #herlock sholmes #barok van zieks #klint van zieks #i might have an eclectic taste in music #but these are all songs i vibed with while playing gaac #and if anyone reads this and listens to them #and hears a song they didn't know and is like #that's a good song #then that is a good thing

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dadukos-arc · 2 years

Text

st. peter’s bar, ashford, ca. may 25th, 10:38 pm.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑. by this time, every night, it swells up to a peaceful clamor — in the drowning she is safe. the clattering of plates and cutlery, laughter and cheers from good spirited patrons, her own pantheon is an ode to life: even here, in the underground of existence, there is room for celebration. yet her attention is hardly swayed — in between harmless flirtations and well-meaning jests, freddie moves along private routes she’s traced over and over through the corners of st. peter’s: this purgatory is her kingdom, she walks it with purpose. and through tables and orders, emergency restocks of beer and steaming hot plates from the kitchen, a wary glance is always cast to the corner: where maria sits at the counter, pouring gloom into her drink when not lighting herself up for the pleasure of bystanders. by ten p.m., fred makes a conscious decision to make time for the girl — and by ten thirty she’s finally able to follow through, free of customers at last, neglecting her bartending duties if only for the span of a snack. a scalding hot plate of fries is set before the girl, and it comes with a quick smirk, and a vaguely threatening look. “ you gotta eat somethin’, love. ” spoken with intention, with a warning. it’s a weird sort of concern that ties her to maria — she who came from a memory of long ago, from a ghost across the pond, and sometimes looks more like a splinter burrowing its way under the skin than the delicate flower many patrons believe her to be. fred likes to think she knows the truth, or a version of it: that every girl that looks broken has in fact learned her way around sharpness, and can cut where it’s tender, can cut when it’s softest. leaning over the counter, fred pushes the plate a little closer to her, but steals one fry in doing so. “ c’mon. i don’t wanna have to drag you half-dead to my place. ” —— @crimewrought.

#crimewrought #𝐅𝐓 — maria greene.#𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 — rage is a quiet thing ( main ).#𝐕 . 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 — happiness is a butterfly ( arc two ).#did u kno i love them <3 #lmk if you need me to change anything my love ♥

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tybaltsjuliet · 3 years

Text

nicky’s archetype playlists, 11/11: the alien.

someone make me a star, 'cause i sure as hell can't be a man.

(listen.)

i. gravity don't mean too much to me. i'm burning through the sky, yeah, 200 degrees! - that's why they call me mxter fahrenheit.

the son of flynn (daft punk; from tron: legacy) // maya the psychic (gerard way) // a million dreams (pink; from the greatest showman) // strange magic (electric light orchestra) // aquarius (sasha allen; from hair) // nine in the afternoon (panic! at the disco) // bulletproof heart (my chemical romance) // space mountain (dick dale) // don't stop me now (queen) // i have known love (silver apples)

ii. the moon is shining, but i can't see the light. should i tear my eyes out now? everything i see returns to you, somehow. should i tear my heart out now? everything i feel returns to you, somehow.

stranger in this world (luke evans; from taboo) // anthem (wendy carlos; from tron) // my mother was the moon (king dude) // saturn (sleeping at last) // mothra's song (bear mccreary; from godzilla: king of the monsters) // alone in the universe (electric light orchestra) // stars (grace potter and the nocturnals) // the in-between (evanescence) // the place where lost things go (emily blunt; from mary poppins returns) // norman's walk (jon brion; from paranorman) // the only thing (sufjan stevens)

iii. i crashed before the birth of christ. the starlight i see is a billion light years old, a ghost just like the rest of us. (nothing i see is here anymore.)

people are strange (the doors) // broken bride (ludo) // scherzo (wendy carlos; from tron) // artificial heart (jonathan coulton) // arrival of the not them (elliot grace) // i'm not human at all (sleep party people) // strange (tokio hotel + kerli) // starchild (brittain ashford; from ghost quartet) // song for ted sallis (the mountain goats)

iv. a heart just can't contain all that empty space. well, when one's lost, i suppose it's good advice to stay where you are until someone finds you - but who would ever think to look for me here?

in a world of my own/very good advice (jhené aiko; from alice in wonderland) // the lonely life of the UFO researcher (tullycraft) // la lune (sarah brightman) // over the rainbow (judy garland; from the wizard of oz) // nocturne (daft punk; from tron: legacy) // four winds (the killers) // new constellations (ryn weaver) // the technicolor phase (owl city) // rocket man (elton john)

v. be prepared, starchild. i've been lost; i've been found.

across the universe (rufus wainwright) // kein kommen ohne geh'n/schwarzer prinz (mark seibert + annemieke van dam; from elisabeth) // starman (david bowie) // totale finsternis (cornelia zenz + steve barton; from tanz der vampire) // define dancing (thomas newman; from wall-e) // you are the moon (the hush sound) // flynn lives (daft punk; from tron: legacy) // half the world away (aurora) // the prettiest star (david bowie) // lucy in the sky with diamonds (elton john) // rainbow connection (dan stevens; from legion)

+ bonus: when the blazing sun is gone, when the nothing shines upon... twinkle, twinkle, little star (kristine barrett + jason graves; from dead space)

#archetype playlist #concept playlist #myss archetypes #the series is complete!!!#my heart is full!!!#;go‚ then. there are other worlds than these.#;swan’s songs.

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heyitsmejona · 4 years

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I am exited for Cantha and just got the new Skimmer mastery but don’t know what to do with it or myself - A GUIDE!

Hello fellow GW2-players! This is a guide for cool places you can explore with your Skimmer!

Requirements:

You theoretically only need the Skimmer but to get the full experience you may also need the Springer (bunny) or any other mount you feel is appropriate. You can follow this guide alone but it may be more fun to do this in a group, as it is most likely you encounter a few difficult situations! If you want to make some money with it you need to bring a few gathering tools like sickle & pickaxe.

You can also only do most of the stuff if you have PoF and LW Season 3 & 4!! However, this guide has 15 steps in total and if you want to save money, the first 5 steps can be done without using waypoints. Don’t worry if you don’t have the map on your character yet, you can use tp to friend if a player of your party is on the map! Furthermore, I did not calculate the time needed to complete the guide but I would estimate it might take ~ 2 h if you’re fast and 3+ h if you are in a group and/or you want to complete everything!

Oh, and to all the roleplayers out there, this includes a few awesome places for some rp-sessions.

DISCLAIMER: I am not accountable for any danger you get into or deaths that will happen to you!! Also this is a super super long post with visuals so I’ll hide the rest under the break!

If you’re ready: mount-up and let’s get into it!

Overview:

map

1. Bitterfrost Frontier:

Start from the Sorrow’s Eclipse WP and dive down! You’ll find a quaggan city and some corals! You can also loot all the chests gathered on the ice lake and maybe farm a bit of Winterberries if you feel like it. If you are finished you can leave through a portal to Frostgorge Sound and travel to the Earthshake WP and move on to the next step!

2. Fireheart Rise:

On this map are two cool places! The first one is in Highland Thaw (upper left corner of the map), to reach it you have to start at the Rustbowl WP (Portal from Frostgorge Sound) and move up/north. You’ll find a lake with some underwater ruins and if you’re lucky a rich platinum vein. But be aware, there is sometimes a group event to kill an ice worm, at least 3-4 players are required to finish it.

The second place is further down on the map, you can travel to the Severed Breach WP and swim in dirty water and travel up/ north again until you reach a cool spot where some lava rivers hit the water. Looks really beautiful. Also, if you’re feeling extra fancy, there is one jumping puzzle and a hidden mini dungeon near the lake you can complete.

To reach the next destination leave the map over the Sati WP to the Iron Marches and travel south to the Dew Claw WP and leave the map.

3. Plains of Ashford:

Start from the Ascalon City WP and go east to Foefire’s Heart (poi) and if you glide down with your skimmer you’ll reach a blue cave with a cool hidden spot for some roleplaying!

To reach the next step, travel to Lion's Arch with the portal in the Black Citadel and go through a portal there to the Southsun Cove.

4. Southsun Cove:

Start from the Pearl Islet WP and go down/south to the beach where you can roleplay a bit and then move west to Sawtooth Bay where you will find some cool sunken ships and lots of sharks. Sometimes there even is a group event to kill a shark! Also a cool fun fact, you can enter the Privateer's Moorage and go down to the cargo bay/the heart of the ship! Which is also a cool spot for some roleplaying as there are only some craps inside.

5. Rata Sum:

Go to the Port WP. There is nothing special in the water except some Triopen and weird electrical fishes but if you travel north you’ll reach a dam (wall) which you can climb onto with your Springer but be aware if you dare move further north you’ll land in Asura Jail, and I am not joking about that, try it out with your friends! To reach the jail like a normal person go to the Research WP and go north to the Peacemakers HQ where you can go down the stairs and you will enter the cell block of Rata Sum. Very cool for some roleplaying, if you are into that. (jk)

6. Draconis Mons:

Wow, have you ever wanted to swim in the sulphuric water of the volcano without dying? Now your time has come, mount-up and dive down. But not to deep or the game will threaten you with murder! You can start from the Mariner Landing WP and go wild. You won't see much anyways.

7. Ember Bay:

Start from the Promontory WP and travel south to the Sulfurous Deep, you’ll find a seaweed farm spot, some corals and if you feel like it, go farm some lotus on the nearby island/shore as well.

8. Malchor’s Leap:

There is much to explore here! It’s best if you start from the Lights WP and move west. You’ll find some cool statues from Malchor, an abandoned quaggan village, sunken ships and weird orrian architecture! Near the sunken ships is a group event where you have to kill a captain and her pet and in the big ship is something weird??? I haven't figured it out yet, but if you enter the bridge of the Harbinger (poi) there is like a veteran creature and some corpses swimming around, from there you can go deeper into the ship and you’ll find a door with some weird dialogue, idk man. Something cursed is going on there. Also The Harbinger has some cool lore, you can check out the Marriner Plaque on deck. If you move south from there you will find some weird swimming architecture and a group event with three bosses no one does, like ever.

9. Sirens Landing:

Okay, soo this one might be interesting for some of you! You can start from the Camp Reclamation WP and lo and behold, there are some shirtless Sylvari volunteers in the bay area! Yeah, moving on… you can find some orrian oysters and corals in the water and if you move east you’ll find The Buoyant Bough (poi) which has some nice plants on deck and if you put two and two together you’ll find some implied bouncing mushroom (HoT mastery) lore. Overall a good spot for some roleplaying! You can move up/north afterwards and do the jumping puzzle on the island, if you feel that's necessary. Otherwise there are more orrian oysters in the water and if you swim into the direction of the Choking Depths (what a cool name, you guys) you’ll find some very big and awesome sea urchins on the ocean floor!

10. Thunderhead Peaks:

Start from the Revolution’s Heart WP and move down to the Shattered Bay (poi in the bottom left corner), collect Volatile Magic and some Dragon Crystal Nodes on the way and if you finally reach the bay, there is a clam farming spot deep down in the water. From there you can move east to the Ice Floe and on the ground of the ocean you’ll find a seaweed farm. But be aware, both farming spots are guarded by some dangerous creatures.

11. Desert Highlands:

Start from the Brightwater WP and move west to the Transcendent Bay, if you have the Jackal portal mastery you can collect a chest in the giant vases, otherwise swim further east and you’ll find an underwater farming spot for clams!

12. Crystal Oasis:

Start from the Amnoon WP and take your Raptor on a walk and travel west to the harbor area, you can dive down and visit the old city of Amnoon, some sunken ships and a few corals. Afterwards swim south, you can make a stop at the swimming party boat for rich kids, do some roleplaying and move on. In the furthest bottom left corner of the map, like really far down you’ll find another clam farming spot. If you are lucky like me you’ll see a salomon and a shark fighting and a whale between the giant seagrass pillars. (Which was really beautiful, I cried a little bit.) And if you feel extra fancy and want to challenge yourself, you can climb on the weird cliff structure where the mastery point is. On top of the rocks are some Scarab Caches where you can get a Mini Scarab (small drop chance) if you’re lucky!

13. Domain of Vabbi:

You can start from the Market Ruins WP and move up/north or you follow the river down/south. Really far down in the south is a small chest, you tell me if it's worth it or nah. However, if you move up/north you can enter a cave right next to the red raid portal. The cave is super pretty and if you make it over a small wall you can enter a jumping puzzle of some sort, but there are super many branded elementals wandering around and at the end chest spawns a giant Volatile Magic man, whom you need to defeat for an achievement. (forgot which one though, sorry!) This one’s really dangerous, it's best if you do it with some friends. But I mean if you’re feeling especially daring like me you can do it alone too, I guess. I warned you though!

14. Domain of Kourna:

This one’s not really all that special, I just wanted to include it because I really like the meta on that map and would totally recommend it to you! I somehow like the map i.g., idk don’t question me. It’s best if you start from the Allied Encampment WP and follow the river and move down south, the water there is slimy but you’ll find some mussels on the shore! You can travel until you reach the bottom left corner where you’ll discover cute coelacanths swimming around and about. (Honestly, f*ck you Joko for polluting the water, have some Respect.)

15. Domain of Istan:

Phew, you have reached the last step! Start from the Champion’s Dawn WP and follow the river into the ocean. There is like a small empty fishing boat, cool, cool, great spot for some roleplaying. When you’re moving on, dive down to the ocean floor and travel further south until you reach Mehtani’s Blade, there is like an awesome anchor in the water, 10/10 would recommend. Also, more coelacanths in the water and in a much better and healthier environment. I am happy for them, this is what they deserve. Whoop, getting off track here, soo the bigger ship, the Mehtani’s Blade has some cool lore, you can speak to the ghost captain! (Also, a good inspiration for a character's story/backstory!) And to finish your trip on a good note, go west to the entrance of the Grotto of the Defeated where you can read some funny notes on the wall, really, go check them out!

Thank you for your attention, I hope you had lots of fun and discovered some new stuff in GW2!

#gw2 #gw2 lore #gw2 guide #skimmer #gw2 skimmer #crappy guide #guild wars 2 #gw2 skimmer explorer guide #canthaconfirmed

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ashfordlabs · 3 years

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THEODORE ASHFORD.

age: 21, october 31st, scorpio.

description: pale skin─ almost appearing sickly pale at times, blue eyes, dark curly, brunette hair, 5′8, scrawny body type.

sexuality: homosexual.

THE MASTERMIND ─ there had always been someone whispering in theodore ashford’s ear, telling him right from wrong. that if he were to step in even the wrong direction, people would latch onto his movements and attempt to slander his own name and his family’s reputation. and always had he listened to it, becoming the supportive younger brother that always stood by his older brother’s side. but there comes a time in which one can no longer stand idly by and listen to that voice that grows distant with every punch thrown in theodore’s way.

DOMINIC WALSH.

age: 21, march 12th, aries.

description: dark brown skin, brown eyes, black hair, 6′2, muscular body type, has a scar on his cheek from a knife wound.

sexuality: bisexual.

THE HITMAN ─ dominic walsh had grown used to the blood that stained his hands. there had once been a time when he had tried to hard to wash himself of it all, of the blood, of the guilt that surfaced every single he pulled the trigger, letting the bullet trapped inside fly free and hitting it’s target with ease. but one can’t feel guilty when in their eyes, they’ve done nothing wrong, simply ridding the world of men with cruelty dripping from their veins. it was an itch he need to scratch, one only satisfied when a body dropped in front of him. greed can often outweigh the guilt one can feel.

TAMRYN BELSKY.

age: 25, august 4th, leo.

description: ivory skin, green eyes, blond hair, 6′3 but has bad posture he sometimes looks shorter, lanky body type.

sexuality: aro/ace.

THE HACKER ─ tamryn belsky had always hated hearing the words, ‘you are so much like your father’. perhaps there had once been a time when he felt proud to be the mirror image of the person that had taken him under his wing and taught him everything he knew. yet his father had been reckless with trusting his son all there was to know, about all the things that happened behind closed doors. you trust too hard and it’s only a matter of time before the knife you gave them finds itself in your own back, because when it comes to tamryn belsky, the secrets one would do anything to keep hidden don’t remain that way for long.

ANNIKA BELSKY.

age: 25, august 4th, leo.

description: ivory skin, green eyes, long blond hair, 5′8 but constantly wears heels so appears 5′11, plus sized body type.

sexuality: bisexual.

THE SEDUCTRESS ─ annika belsky had once learned that in order to get a man’s attention, all one must do is simply sit and listen, nod your head and asks questions to keep them talking, because if there’s one thing that men love, it’s the sound of their own voice. but it reaches a point in which they can’t seem to stop talking and they make it so easy to get them talking, because in their eyes, they can’t seem to resist her. but the moment they try to lay a hand on her, the claws come out and bones begin to break because she’s the one that’s in control, never them.

MAYUMI SAKAMOTO.

age: 23, september 23rd, libra.

post-mortum description: transparent corporeal body that can sometimes look monochromatic, veins on her body are black and noticeable through the skin, short black hair, grey eyes, 5′8, athletic body type.

height: 5′8.

sexuality: lesbian.

THE GHOST ─ mayumi sakamoto missed being alive, once taken for granted all the things she could feel against her skin. wanting nothing more than to the wind through her hair and the grass beneath her feet. sometimes if she stood there long enough, she’d be able to remember what it felt like, and every touch but every kiss by her felt tattooed upon her skin. but any time she remembered what used to be, it was overtaken by what became of her. nothing more than a corpse walking, forced to remain amongst the living until justice had finally been served but it’s revenge she truly wants.

cursed bodies taglist under the cut (message to be +)

@isherwoodj @emiiswriting @houndmouthed

#this took me wayyy longer than originally intended #since i ended up redoing mayumi and the twins on artbreeder #i'm still kinda not happy about annika's but it'll do #i just want this done and posted #* / CURSED BODIES.#CHARACTER * / theodore ashford.#CHARACTER * / dominic walsh.#CHARACTER * / tamryn belsky.#CHARACTER * / annika belsky.#CHARACTER * / mayumi sakamoto.#* / ORIGINAL CHARACTERS.

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rolorules · 4 years

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Ashford Halloween Party

This (non-scary) short story again features Duncan Mars, an ordinary student who keeps thinking that Rolo is his friend.

"Hey Rolo! How's it going?"

"Oh, hi Duncan! I didn't recognise you at first in that mummy outfit."

"Looks great, doesn't it? It took me quite some time to prepare."

"And quite a lot of bandages, too, it seems."

"Yes, that's true. I just hope there won't be any medical emergency on campus tonight."

"You could have gone for toilet paper."

"I could have," Duncan laughed, "but that might have created an emergency of its own later. But anyway, I saw you bow to that girl from second year that was dressed as a witch. What was that about?"

"Oh, that. I apologised for Rivalz snatching her broom from her and storming away with it."

"So that's what it was. She still looks as if she had seen a ghost."

"Well, she did, in a way. Even though it was a rather ridiculous-looking one." Rolo could not help but grin.

"Why did Rivalz do that?"

"Well, he was mad at Big Brother and wanted to thrash him with that broom. I barely managed to stop him."

"Seriously? What did he do?"

"Well, don't ask me how it happened, but soon after the party had got into gear, Big Brother was - one has to put it like that - flirting with President Milly, and Rivalz lost it. I can show you later; Miss Shirley took a photo of the whole scene. I'm actually surprised she stayed that calm."

"Lelouch has a romantic interest in the Prez? Well, what do you know?!"

"He doesn't. I think. I blame the 'non-alcoholic' melon punch. Maybe it was just an act, you know, like cosplay. Or maybe this was because Big Brother is dressed as a vampire and wants to find out if that boosts his charisma to even more insane levels."

Duncan laughed drily. "I know, right. Your brother is extremely popular with the girls, I noticed, but he doesn't know how to put it to good use, if you ask me. It makes me jealous. And now he's 'Count Lamperouge', too."

"Well, at least he doesn't sparkle."

"Hah, thank goodness for that. But what about you, pal?"

"What about me?"

"Why aren't you wearing a costume?"

"Me? I just don't see the need, I guess."

"But Halloween is a great opportunity to pretend to be someone else. You could go as a pyschotic killer, for example. Wouldn't that be a blast?"

...

"Hey Rolo, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Duncan. Let's go and try that melon punch."

"That's a great idea, pal!" Duncan said as they walked away. "But next year we absolutely have to go for the homicidal maniac thing. I'll help you with the costume."

Happy Halloween 2020 everyone!

P.S.: If the story doesn't ring a bell, check this link.

#rolo lamperouge #code geass #lelouch lamperouge #shirley fenette #Milly Ashford #fanfiction

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midori-laboratories · 2 years

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Flowers and Ash, Chapter 16

Book 1, Calendula Chronicles series.

Story synopsis: When the eldest daughter of Edward Ashford accompanies her father and brother on a last-minute trip in 1968 to secure their legacy, an act of spite turns into a boon for the family. When tragedy and scandal strike, the survivors will have to be clever if they are to live long enough to pick up the pieces of their lives. Pre-slash/Gen.

Chapter synopsis: Marigold heads into Raccoon City to try to make sense of the changed world, and makes a 'friend'. Grayson Harman, an OC belonging to Q_Alias from The Umbrella Accounts appears as a cameo in this chapter, with permission.

CW for implied death of family member, isolation, dissociation, and violence, drugs, manipulation, grief

The cab stank of stale sweat and low-grade anxiety - the driver clearly didn’t want to be caught out alone with the stories seeping into and around the news. That was fine by Marigold. She clutched her duffel bag (she still had a gun, she reminded herself, firm) like a schoolgirl’s book bag and flashed a grateful smile back at the waitress before dashing out the door, and over the short distance to the cab’s rear door. “Town,” She said, a little too loud. “I have it written down here, go ahead and drive. I’ll have it in a second.” Her American accent was improving. She used to do a decent one, but it took time to get back properly. Thankfully, the driver was just as eager to be the hell away from the middle of nowhere as she was.

That waiting sensation, calm, assessing, remained, fading with distance. It was...eerie, almost in the same way pulling up to the mansion had been (days) years ago. The parallel wasn’t lost on her; she wasn’t clear of the trap yet.

Marigold kept her eyes fixed on the rear window until she was sure it was far enough, then dug the wallet out of the bag. John Clemens may be gone, but she thought he might allow her to rely on his hospitality just a little longer.

---

Doctor Clemens, as it turned out, had a charming little bungalow relatively close to downtown. Marigold did her best to look meek and apologetic as she paid the man; young lady coming home after curfew. The fare was about twice more than expected, but it had also been fifteen years, and he hadn’t taken a circuitous route to get here. There was a few hundred dollars in cash in the wallet. if she was careful, she could stretch it a bit; just not as far as she first anticipated.

She eyed the house, speculative. There were no visible lights on inside, a good sign. No cars in the driveway either, and heard no one moving about inside. Empty. Maybe. She strode to the door tried her key, letting out a long breath when it clicked open.

The bungalow was a short walk, end to end. No sounds of sleeping, or breathing. He clearly didn’t spend much time here; the place was spartan, with only the bookcases of medical texts and a few photos hung up to show anyhow had ever lived here.

Well, almost. She thought of the photo from his wallet when she came across the closet with a pang of guilt. A few pairs of smart slacks, cotton blouses, a jacket. Some underwear. Spares for late nights; not quite living together, but the girlfriend had been starting to put down roots. A few pairs of low heels were stashed inside as well. She worried her lip, looking down at herself. She had been working her way through the woods for nearly a full day; she had risked barely any rest aside from short breaks to eat her dwindling rations.

Marigold caught her reflection in the mirror hanging by the closet and flinched. At the very least, she needed a shower, and Her hair was several inches longer than it had been the last time she had bothered with it, with a bleached cast to it. The gym clothes might not be a total loss (miles to go before I sleep), but she couldn’t afford to waste time. “I look like a Victorian ghost,” she murmured to herself.

Not for the first time, she found herself grateful for the counterintelligence training she had been made to sit through once MI5 had noticed the breadth and volume of her travel schedule back in the seventies. Thirty minutes, a hasty pass through John’s kitchen and a scalding shower later, she was starting to feel a little more...well, human. Tea wasn’t the worst hair dye she had ever tried, but she would have to hope it didn’t rain in the next day or so. The knife in her bag did the rest. She hoped it would be enough. The dirty shirt was spread out over the table, bottles refilled from the sink and replaced, cushioned by the fabric. A box of granola bars. She found a bottle of vodka tucked above the stove by the smell, next to a first aid kit, and she grabbed both after a moment’s hesitation. Another fifteen minutes. She would have been in there just under an hour. Empty lab book. Pens.

She had started for the fridge when she notice that there was a phone mounted to the kitchen wall, by the back door. Marigold hesitated a moment, then crossed the room. She picked up the receiver. A soft click was audible before the dial tone kicked in.

Bugged. His phone was bugged. Probably Umbrella. Even if it wasn’t, she’d stayed here quite long enough. The idea of scavenging a moment longer felt akin to desecrating a tomb. Still not safe.

---

At almost 3 AM, roughly one hour after a bedraggled girl in shorts and a too-large T-shirt which hung like a sheet from her frame let herself into John’s house, someone else - apparently - walked out the front door. Ada Wong sat in her car, observing from halfway down the street. Her eyes narrowed. Is that my jacket? Arklay had gone into lockdown just days earlier, and this was her first good lead since the murders around town had started. She had a pretty good idea why. Sooner or later, one of the Umbrella reps in her dossier was going to come here, and turn the entire place over for evidence. This one didn’t fit her profile. Worse, she knew the players involved in this town. This one didn’t fit the profile.

Ada waited a moment, then raised her radio to her mouth. “I have a live one here. Caucasian, female, maybe twenty. A cab dropped her off earlier - I have a plate number to pass to Ben. Has a small duffel bag. Unknown affiliation, if any, but she had a key to John’s place and is on foot. I’ll have the description when I check in later. Maintaining distance until I get a better read.”

The girl had entered looking like she was running away from a cult. The person who left had light brown hair, from what she could see in the streetlights, and was dressed like a reasonable stylish, if waifish, office worker. She still carried a bag, but it wasn’t totally out of place - small, and compact, enough for gym clothes for after a long day at work.

Ada watched the girl pause, look around, then set a steady course for downtown. This one was wary.

Good. She thought. Let’s see where you run, little rabbit.

---

An all-night diner was run down the street from the Raccoon Police Department. Cindy, a young blond woman in waitress attire, looked up from the counter when the bell at the door announced her arrival. Her brow furrowed, and she glanced at the clock. 4:15 AM. Much too early for the office crowd. Her eyes dropped to the duffel bag, considering. Not too early for a breakup.

The woman looked back at her with a sheepish expression. “Is it too early for breakfast? My office doesn’t open for a while, and, well...” She trailed off and looked at her feet.

“Say no more. I’ll get some coffee going, and you can settle in. Booth, or counter?”

“Booth?” Cindy nodded, and the woman smiled, clearly relieved. She glanced down at her nametag. “Thanks so much, Cindy.”

An hour passed, then another. Officers from down the street trickled in with the morning light for a cup of coffee before heading out on patrol. The young woman kept quietly to herself, waiting and watching the chatter around her. Cindy forgot about her for a while after getting her a large breakfast (must have missed dinner, poor thing). The rumours coming in from the previous night’s activities seemed to be taking center stage today. Some of the officers that hadn’t returned were regulars here, and the stories coming out of there were weird as hell. Both captains dead, and only a handful of officers had come back, talking about monsters at the old mansion rumoured to be up in the hills. Creepy. At time like this, she was glad to be just down the street from the police station, but still.

The patrol rush died down just before seven before Cindy made her way around to the woman again, who had apparently just had a bad breakup, refilling her coffee. The woman had nestled into the wall of the two-seater booth, watching with a blank face. She’d been working away, filling up a notebook for a few hours though. “I thought I’d had a bad night,” She said softly to Cindy. Cindy hmmed in response, then took a closer look. “You look a little peaky. You doing alright?” The woman shrugged. “Didn’t sleep much, I wasn’t about to for a while anyhow. Maybe I’m coming down with something.” She glanced up at Cindy. “Do you need me to settle up? I have another hour or so, but if you’re about to have a shift change..?”

Cindy smiled gratefully. When the woman left at 7:30, she left twenty dollars tucked under the salt.

---

Marigold had intended to stake out the diner for a few hours longer, but something in the area felt deeply wrong to her, in a way that had nothing to do with the food. She ate mechanically through the feeling, trying to ignore it at first. It felt like the forest.

No. It felt like the mansion but sharper. She had been to this area several times in the seventies, and there had been nothing. On the surface, this town was a perfect slice of Americana. Beneath, there was something that felt like it would eat a hole in her gut the longer she stayed.

Two blocks, then three, four. She walked until a phone booth outside a familiar bar came into view. Umbrella had offices this way, but no one seemed to be paying attention to a mousy-looking woman walking down the street. She pushed through the sliding door of the booth - there. A new phone book hung in a plastic case, attached to a chain secured at the top of the booth. She stared at the phone for a moment (no dial, on a payphone?), then refocused on the phone book. She only really had one shot at this, with the window of time before the vultures descended already closing. Flipping through the book, she noted a name and smiled, grim.

Then, she hesitated. Concentrated. That feeling of being hunted from the diner was gone, and while it was possible that the ‘scent’ from the police station acted as camouflage, she didn’t think she had been followed. Not by that, anyhow. A familiar face had poked into the diner while she had waited to learn who had survived. She was still being tracked, all right.

Seventeen years. Her medications had been thoroughly flushed from her system. The alternative was that something had changed, and the implications of that were too much to do more than shove the fear down and power through it. Marigold spared a glance around - a tall, well-built man doing a half-hearted Johnny Cash impression was having a cigarette by the door to the bar, but he wasn't paying her any mind.

She called the operator. Rattled off an international number, to be placed collect. After a pause, the operator complied and put her through. A long moment passed before a quavering voice came on the line. Scott Harman, Alexander’s butler, had grown old in the last few years, then. “Yes?”

Marigold looked towards the street, then turned her attention to the phone. “Harman. It’s so good to hear your voice again. Could I leave a message at the crossing, The one by the wood?” She fully dropped her American accent. She needed to get through, quickly.

A long pause. “Whom is the message from, if I might ask?” Suspicion, tinged with disbelief.

“The message is from Callie Lundy.” Marigold was such an easy name to latinize.

Harman - one of hers, Alex had made sure of it - gasped. “I - Yes, I can transfer him. He’s an early riser,” A muffled shout on the other line - Harman had shouted something to a passerby.

A new voice came on the line, irritable. “Who is this and why are you stirring up my staff,” Alfred Ashford demanded.

“I...you’re alive.” Marigold’s voice faltered when she heard him. She swallowed hard. She had to move. Every moment she wasted was a moment closer to detection. “I only have a few minutes before I have to keep moving. Do you know my voice?”

A longer pause. “I do,” came the reply, slow. “But-”

“Listen. Spencer Mansion is gone. They likely think I went the same way. I think...I think I got very, very lucky.” Marigold glanced around again. “The damned town is too distracted by the overflow of..” She trailed off. “They showed me what it was for. Before...I lost my head a bit. I should never have gone. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, the renovation was much remarked upon.” Alfred said after a long pause. She gave a sharp surprised laugh. He continued. “You need to get out of there, now.”

“I’m working on it.” The car parked down the street was familiar. She’d been seeing it passing her several times over the last few hours. “It might be a while before you hear from me again.”

“Understood, but...” Alfred hesitated. “The company won’t matter for long. She...we made a plan. You’ll see.”

Everett’s remarks about the mental health of her nephew flashed through her mind. “Alright,” she said, careful. “I’ll try to get in touch if I can. ‘Bye, Crow.” She hung up the receiver with the nickname she'd given her nephew when he had been three still in her mouth. Marigold took a moment to collect herself. She had no ID, a little money, a tourist-level knowledge of the world she inhabited, and the clothes on her back. The things she did have, had to be deployed incredibly carefully.

Time for a small gamble, then.

---

Ada had been trailing this girl for hours. If she had any real intel available, that was one thing. But there was nothing.

When Ada went to check in with her handler, he had seemed to perk up when she described her. “I have a BOLO on a woman fitting that profile.”

“Long hair, too-big clothes, young? Looks like someone had a go at burying her alive?” Ada paused, twiddling the cord on her car phone. “The quick change was good work. Had a CIA flavour to it. I wouldn’t have looked twice at her if didn’t seem her walk out the same door. Which agency is she with?” If it was Umbrella she could pull the girlfriend card. She had stolen her jacket.

Ada liked that jacket.

“None, as far as I can tell. If she’s industry, she’s brand new. She was spotted at a truck stop outside town before calling a cab. Head office got a tip to keep an eye out, but do not engage.” Across the street, the target had huddled into a telephone booth outside Jack's Bar, clearly preoccupied.

Ada snorted. “She looks barely out of high school. Maybe college. Am I so terrifying to the local youth?” Outside the bar, she recognized Annette Birkin's pretty side-piece, likely drying out after a long night. Raccoon City was such a small town, sometimes.

“Miss Wong, you terrify all of us every day.”

She smirked. “Flatterer.”

“Always. That is a blanket directive for this one.”

She frowned. “Understood. She left the diner to make a phone call in front of J’s Bar. I think she was looking for an address.” She paused. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll call you back.” Ada hung up the phone, just as the woman she had been tailing crossed the street and made a beeline over to her. The man outside the bar blinked at the woman in surprise as she passed, brows creasing like he was trying to remember something. She had a piece of paper folded up in her hand. She realized a moment too late that the car was unlocked before the other woman let herself into the passenger side and settled in. She looked...thoughtful.

“How long were you following me? From the diner?” A very faint accent under a bland American one.

Interesting. “Can I help you?” Just a touch of outrage in the voice. The woman stared, then handed her the paper. “Try again, Ada.”

Ada glared and took the paper - a well-worn photo, from the feel of it. She looked down, seeing her own face looking back at her.

“How did you get this.” Ada’s mouth was suddenly very dry. John had kept this photo in his wallet with him. Sweet, sentimental man.

Do not engage this one. The why of it was clear as mud, but she could see why that order was made in the first place. Well, technically, she had engaged Ada.

Clearly, this was fair play. “Are you with the company?” She tried again. “With Umbrella? John hasn’t called me back in over a week. What were you doing at his house? Did you think he had files there?”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “The house. Alright. No, I...I just needed...” She stopped a moment. “Government or competitor?”

Oh, fun. “Excuse me?”

“On any other day, I would love to play this game out. I used to be good at it. You’re not Umbrella. Umbrella probably would have put a bullet in my head at this point.”

Ada looked at the woman, appraising. “You’re not wrong, but that’s a naive take. They would have tracked down your loved ones first.”

“Lucky me. They’ve taken care of that aspect, albeit out of order.” The woman looked disquieted at the thought though. The accent was getting stronger, something crisp and British. “I asked you a question though.”

Ada regarded her, choosing her words carefully. “It’s complicated. And more intertwined than you’re implying.”

The woman pursed her lips. “Damnit, Daniel,” she said quietly. Ada watched her process this. Surely she didn’t mean...later. This wasn’t the time to get sidetracked. “My question now. How did you come to have this? He would have kept it on his person. I know where he worked.” She held up the photo. “I assume that you were getting around to that. Who are you, anyways? They don’t send interns there.”

The woman grew nervous, smaller. “Inter...right. Not a researcher, no.” She made a face. “Although there was an influx of teenagers getting run through the place.”

“Experiments?”

“Researchers. Wait, what? I...actually no, I believe that. Of course, they would.” The woman looked grim. She didn’t speak like a college kid. “I never actually met him. Your…John, I mean. I think I was the only option left if anyone was going to get out of there. He left his things at the terminal.” Ada deflated slightly as the woman continued. “The other question is...complicated.” Ada rolled her eyes at her, and she pushed on. “Yes, I know it sounds idiotic. That question has a lot of required context behind it and...” She spread her hands, frustrated.

“You showed up in a cab looking like you ran away from a cult after they tried to bury you alive,” Ada said flatly. She left out the bit about the diner. This woman had approached her on her own, but could lose her nerve at any moment. Keep an eye out, but do not engage.

It seemed to hit just the right nerve. The woman stared, then sank back in the seat with a weak laugh. “Huh. I...you know what, let’s just go with that. In a manner of speaking, you’re not even wrong.” She seemed to come to a decision. “If you can give me a ride and maybe an hour to stop for someone - hopefully much less - and a way out of Raccoon City, we can discuss this at length.”

Ada considered. There was a weird amount of confidence coming from this woman. “You’re taking a lot on faith right now.”

“It’s only fair. You really have no idea what you’re dealing with, in this particular case.” The woman’s voice was almost sad.

Ada looked at her a moment longer, then started the car.

---

Author Notes:

https://www.diversetechgeek.com/when-seven-pieces-of-technology-became-deemed-obsolete/ - why the phone is briefly confusing, but also not totally foreign.

Ford = > a river crossing. Ash is a type of tree.

#calendula chronicles #marigold ashford #flowers and ash #albert wesker x oc #pre slash #resident evil fanfiction

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