#Black Scaffolding Pipes

[concidineart]

A ficlet for @fwhimmy-week! See the read more below or the AO3 link above!

PROMPT: Horror House

The Codfather has a meeting with the Grimlands' Count.

The Grimlands were a nightmarish place. Plants that killed you. Ominous haunted rocks. And the mechanical beast of a castle the Count called home. Crouched on the edge of a sheer cliff, teeth-like spires speared the sky and all around its walls spiraled a web of pipes and furnaces. The massive Grimlands Forge bulged out like some cancerous growth. Taut wires and scaffolding adhered its metal hide to the castle’s soot speckled walls. Heat billowed from warped vents, rattling like a dying breath.

Jimmy, although dressed in full Codfather regalia, felt less like an emperor and more like a speared fish. At least he matched the macabre corpses warding Eastvale’s front gate? The villagers watched him stride through the streets with predatory eyes. A salmonfolk spit on the ground and Jimmy barely stopped himself from drawing his sword in response. He was not here for them.

The stone road leading up to the castle was in good repair, but thin, steep, and either side crumbled off into red mist, making the whole climb feel like a tightrope act. The narrow road tip-toed around the Forge’s maw to reach the castle’s entrance. 

The door was absurdly tall, twice Jimmy’s own impressive height, coming to a pointed arch at the top. Jimmy rapped his knuckles on the thick wood, but the sound was paultry amid the hiss and rattle of the castle itself. He waited for a moment, then searched vainly for a door knocker. Instead, he found a thick chain hanging beside the entry’s recess; a black iron rose dangled from its end. Looking up, the chain disappeared into a metal cavity. With the ghostly impression of a drawbridge in his mind, Jimmy grasped the rose and pulled the chain.

A bassy note rolled over him. The vibrations from an unseen bell tolling sent a shiver down his spine and the castle seemed to fall silent in its wake. 

Then with a puff and rumble, the machinery came back all at once. Gears that Jimmy mistook for hinges clunked and began winding. The door split open (Jimmy snapped his teeth together to muffle an undignified shriek.), transforming into a series of thick panels that folded back into the doorframe, leaving a gaping hole in its place.

Jimmy wasn’t certain how long he stood there, staring into the cold and dark. But eventually, he summoned his valor and stepped over the threshold. 

After a moment of black, his eyes began to adjust. Pricks of red glowed in the rafters. Lamps burning low or blinking creatures? He was in an empty foyer. The air tasted of soot, hot and dry. A couple spiral staircases, narrow and metal, were tucked into the foyer’s alcoves. Across from him stretched a long hall, dotted with a couple doors, leading into shadow.  It was bereft of furniture. The only sense of decor came from the twisting, spiked architectural supports and a set of large urns filled with wither roses. 

Jimmy took a couple steps and stopped as his boots echoed off the smooth deepslate floor. At once he felt like an intruder.

“fWhip?” Jimmy asked the empty air.

The hall sent his question back to him in a whisper. 

Setting his jaw and clenching his fists, Jimmy strode forward. He’d find fWhip and they’d sort out the pledge and he’d recommend an interior decorator and he’d get out of this horror house. 

The hall led to a set of double doors. They were more official and fine than the single doors Jimmy passed, so he pressed down on their large handles and pushed. Their hinges let out a shrill squeak and the wood scraped against the floor, making Jimmy wince.

Lit red candles lined this room’s rafters, casting a warm dim glow. A thick, but faded red and black carpet striped down the room’s center. Plant pots, holding the shriveled remains of some sort of bush, lined the walls. Clusters of bright amethyst were ensconced in the walls’ timber, lending their own cool glimmer to the lighting. At the end of the room, sat two tall backed chairs. Jimmy had found the throne room.

Relieved and figuring this was a sensible room to wait in, Jimmy entered. The rug helped muffle his steps as he approached the thrones. Each chair was carved from deepslate and embedded with flecks of redstone that glinted in the candlelight. Fittingly creepy for the Grimlands. 

What was odd though, was the state of the throne room as a whole. Dust coated every surface. The air was stale. The candles were burnt down, wax spilling over the wooden beams in crimson rivulets. One throne had bits of gunpowder and paper crumpled at its base, TNT in the process of either being made or undone. The other was thick with cobwebs. That there even was a second throne was strange. Jimmy would have thought the second throne would be removed until the Grimlands gained a Countess or… Jimmy’s eyes were drawn to the TNT again, the only sign of life. 

The lavender light from the amethyst became cold in Jimmy’s mind. This room felt like a tomb. Something was buried here.

“Jimmy, what are you doing in here?”

Jimmy about lept out his scales, as he spun around. “JEEZE!”

fWhip, draped in his usual ratty scarf, stood in the doorway, hands tucked in his coat pockets. The Count’s pale face seemed to float in the darkness. fWhip didn’t glance around the room. His dusty periwinkle eyes squinted at Jimmy and he lifted one finger to point up.

“My office is upstairs.”

With that, he stepped out of the room. 

Jimmy hustled after him, hissing, “Don’t scare me like that! My heart stopped! You hear me? My heart stopped!”

fWhip cackled and the laugh echoed down the hall. “You’re fine!”

“I almost died.” Jimmy insisted as fWhip led him up one of the narrow staircases.

fWhip walked through the castle with supernatural silence; his red leathery wings never rustled, his boots never clacked. Up three flights and down a short hall, Jimmy was waved into a small circular office. fWhip directed Jimmy to a set of three stools stacked by the door as he took the plush red armchair crammed between a massive desk and three stained glass windows. The office was more lived in than the rest of the castle, but just barely; stacks of paper and a small bookshelf full of dogeared tomes, charcoal sticks, a bottle of ink and two pens. The walls were bare. No knickknacks on the desk. One of the windows was cracked open, letting in a chilly breeze.

Jimmy set up the stool by the desk and fWhip pushed papers to the side so he could spread out a blank parchment between them.

“Okay, we write the pledge together and we’re only done when we both like it.” fWhip ordered.

Jimmy’s stomach rolled at the thought of pledging to stop killing salmon. He was never going to like it. He took off the Codboy cap. This was why he was doing this. If he wanted his title back, he had to do this.

He nodded. “It’s time to put our differences aside.” 

“Oh, that’s good!” fWhip scribbled it down.

The pledge, in the end, was fairly simple. But it took hours. They kept adding more conditions and exceptions, then arguing and striking off the additions. Then repeating that process until they both threw their pens down in exasperation.

“Leave it! Leave it!” Jimmy swatted fWhip’s hand back as he bent to pick up the pen. “It's fine as it is.”

“Hey! Okay. It’s good. It's great even. Short and to the point!” fWhip rolled up Jimmy’s copy of the pledge and handed it over. “Thanks.”

“Thanks.” Jimmy echoed as he took it.

With that, like a spell had broken, the oppressive presence of the castle rushed back in. Jimmy felt an odd sorrowful pang as he looked at fWhip, who was pushing the window open wider, and he realized this was fWhip’s point of escape. Jimmy’s own home was cozy, bursting with mementos from his friends and citizens. A bit cluttered honestly. fWhip’s castle was a carved out shell.

“Next time, we should meet at my place.”

fWhip looked over his shoulder in surprise. “Next time?”

“Come over.” Jimmy revised. “We can spread the word together. Get everyone to take the pledge.”

fWhip grinned. “Right, meet you there.”

[indecisivemuch]

Time wasn't in our favor - Part 3

Pairing: TASM Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x Female!Reader

Summary: What if...your soulmate is from another universe but you didn't know? Soulmate AU. Set during NWH, fluff.

Note: So...ended up making part 3 before the two endings. Also, I apologize for the long wait. I went from "University makes me want to die" to writers block, so that was not great.

Word count: 1.5k

Series Masterlist: Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Happy Ending, Sad Ending.

"Any closer to finding out who that is?" MJ asked, gesturing to the photo booth pictures in front of Y/N as she slid Y/N her favorite doughnut.

It has been a week after the incident - the day that Y/N found herself crying near the Statue of Liberty out in the middle of nowhere; the day that she, Ned and MJ sported several injuries for no apparent reason; the day that her life felt oddly empty, as if it was missing something essential; the day that her tattoo turned red, yet she had no recollection of how or when it did.

"No...and I don't know who I kissed either. Was I that drunk? Did we sneak into some college party and drink to the point we blacked out?" Y/N theoreticized. Ned, who sat next to her, patted her back in empathy, "It's okay...you'll figure it out." Y/N stared down at her photo again, ignoring the sound of the store's doorbell ringing.

"Hi, anything I can get for you?" MJ asked the customer while Y/N racked her brain for possible explanations. It was clear that she was intimate with this stranger. She scowled at herself, flipping the photo around.

I don't even know anybody with the initial "P.P.", mayb-

"Hi, I'm Peter Parker and-" Y/N snapped her head at the boy, but her excitement died as soon as it came.

He was not the boy in her photo.

-----------------------

"Okay so...crying....down there," she muttered to herself, as if it would help. It was crazy that she was standing up here, but something about it felt compelling enough. Currently, Y/N was standing on the scaffolding next to the Statue of Liberty, peering down at the spot she was previously crying at. Y/N scrunched her eyes as she leaned a little outwards to look at the shield. Upon seeing what looked like blood, her foot instinctively took a step forward to get a better look, though her hand clinging onto a pipe to ensure she was being somewhat safe. 

Against her calculation, the already leaning section of the scaffolding let out a loud sound before rapidly crumbling down. As she tipped along with the construction falling outwards, her hands automatically wrapped around the pipe they were already clinging to. A scream left her lips as she could feel gravity pulling her downwards. 

The scaffolding stopped. 

It didn’t completely fall apart. Instead, it was hanging her outwards with a chance of falling to her death. The adrenaline pumped as she could feel her heartbeat tripling its speed. It was foolish, but Y/N looked down and shut her eyes immediately after. She knew it was high up, but seeing no ground touching her feet made her panic even more. Upon opening her eyes, Y/N’s mind tugged at an idea as she spotted the level below her that looked somewhat stable enough.

It was risky, but at that point, what other choice does she have? With all her might, Y/N swung herself forward and landed in the level below. Her body fully collided with the metal ground, hitting the air out of her. The impact definitely left a bruise.

It was moments of silence, before Y/N felt tears emerging and free falling down her cheeks. It had only sunken in now how it felt almost too familiar hanging like that. Y/N slowly sat up as she registered what just happened. Using her hand and wrist, she wiped away the tears and covered her eyes, ignoring the sting on her soul mark as soon as it made contact with her tears. She sniffed before removing her hand from her eyes. However, the girl was caught off-guard upon seeing yellow sparks on her hands and wrist. They illuminated, shining brighter and brighter. Slowly, they multiplied before rising from her hand and floating around her. Y/N stood up in shock, unable to utter a word as she glanced at the floating sparks around her. 

Before she knew it, they all evaporated.

“After you save my New York City.”

Y/N gasped as she turned around to the source of the voice, only to see sparks shaping like a human being - the shape of her. Opposite to it was a spark version of the guy from her photo. He was hung upside down, wearing a spiderman suit which made Y/N mouth fall slightly open. Both of them evaporated again.

Then her world was sent into a whirl.

Y/N turned around as she heard another voice. This time she saw the two in a lab sitting next to each other. Her ears started buzzing as noises of mutters from different conversations took over. Meanwhile, the sparks multiplied again, jumping everywhere and displaying different moments between her and the stranger. 

“I think you need it more than me,” she spun around again, seeing herself holding a dandelion while the guy peered down at her. Y/N stumbled slightly as she tried to take a look at every little scene, feeling overwhelmed as more conversations popped up. Then she heard a scream, which made her look in that direction.

“No!” she shouted, hands reaching outwards as she saw the spark version of herself fall from the scaffolding. Y/N ran forward and towards the fence, peering down at a reflection of herself. What surprised her was a figure that dove from above her, his sparkled form shooting straight forward at her falling spark-figure. 

Both her hands covered her mouth as Y/N watched the scene unfold. As soon as the figures’ fingers touched, a breath of relief left her mouth before the memories came colliding inside her brain, knocking her backward and onto her knees as the sparkles all gathered around her.

It felt like a hurricane as the memories flooded back - the moment she met him, the moments they spent together, including the moment he left her. She remembered it all. She remembered crying as she clung onto the sparks that slowly evaporated as he returned to his universe. 

However, she never noticed until now how some of the sparks clung to her and stayed behind. It sunk into her while she cried and mourned for a love she never had the chance to explore, before her memories of him were pulled. 

--------------------

“Doctor Strange. Please.”

“You were never meant to remember in the first place.”

“Do you know how it feels to be away from your soulmate? Knowing you may potentially never see them again? It hurts, Doctor Strange. Please,” he somehow halted at this, causing Y/N to abruptly stop behind him as well. She watched as he turned around to look at her. She could see the battle that was going on in his mind as he contemplated her wish.

“Fine. One visit.”

“Thank you,” she breathed out in relief.

A couple of grumbles escaped from the man. Even though she couldn't hear, Y/N knew they were complaints about her. Doctor Strange settled his coffee mug onto a table before turning back to the girl. With ease, the man opened up a portal. The sight was similar to the alleyway she saw Peter Parker enter from, but it was daylight instead.

“Thank you so much, Dr Strange,” the girl repeated once again as she walked out of the portal that the man had just conjured up for her.

“Avoid yourself in this universe and don’t cause any trouble, alright?” Dr Strange lectured sternly, knowing that his actions were wrong and could potentially cause a multiverse problem. But he empathized with the girl. A part of him did it because he knew how it felt to not be with your soulmate. Despite the unbothered exterior he had set up, his heart ached every morning as he put on the watch that his soulmate had gifted him while they were still together. His eyes glanced down at his soul mark, which was covered by the pre-mentioned watch, except it was cracked. Then he looked back at the girl again.

“Come back in two hours, yeah?” though his voice made the question come out as more of a command than anything. But the girl knew it was all with good intentions, so she nodded and watched as the man closed the magic portal.

The girl ran through the portal without any hesitation, jumping slightly when she saw it closed straight away. Cautiously exiting the alley, the girl gulped as she realized how reckless she was being - entering another universe with no plan beforehand. How was she going to find Peter?

---------------

Series Masterlist: Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Happy Ending, Sad Ending.

[flipomatic]

Arm's Length

Summary: Aerith had learned to keep people at arm’s length. All it took was a little deflection here, a question turned around like barbs instead of answered there, an engulfing smile or sometimes a pout stretched coyly across her face. She learned that if she acted as they expected, then they would accept her.

Though Aerith felt safe, she was also so often alone. There was one person though, someone who Aerith had only known for a few months, who she felt could see right through her.

Aerith glanced up at the window where that one person had waved from earlier, but Tifa was gone.

Word Count: 2,000

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Aerith glanced down at the high ankles of her boots, which dangled back and forth beneath her. The gap below extended far past the reach of her limbs, all the way down to the dusty dirt paths that led through town. Gravity kept water moving through the pipes, from the water tower to the surrounding buildings and then back to the ground, with a force as unstoppable as souls returning to the planet. If Aerith were to gently kick one of her boots off it would succumb, perhaps beaning an unsuspecting black cloak over the head in the process.

The thought brought the hint of a chuckle to her lips, but no she wouldn’t do that. Instead, her eyes tracked a distinct spattering of spiky blonde hair emerging from the house across that distant path. Cloud staggered slightly when the sun hit his gaze, right foot faltering as he turned towards the inn.

When he stumbled again, this time bumping roughly into a pedestrian, Aerith’s hand tightened against the edge of the scaffold. His behavior had been worrying for a while and had been even more troubling lately. Especially in Gongaga, though Aerith hadn’t seen it Tifa told her later what had happened. Even knowing that the Weapon hadn’t meant any harm didn’t stop her from remembering the chilling wash of fear and panic as she had searched the mako desperately for any sign of life. Learning that Cloud had knocked her in, put Tifa in immense danger, only made the feeling worse.

When he reached the inn, vanishing inside without so much as a glance back, Aerith released a sigh. It had felt strange to sit up here with him, to be together where so many of his childhood memories had been formed. It must’ve been nice to have a normal childhood, she thought, with friends who actually liked you.

That was a sour thought, bitter in the back of her throat as Aerith swallowed it back. It wasn’t that she didn’t have any friends as a child, but even as a young girl her heritage had hung like a hammer over her head. When they found out, or even if they didn’t, things would always change for the worse. When they decided she was rude, or angry, or introspective, or as so many unkind kids had put it, creepy, they always turned away.

Aerith had learned to keep people at arm’s length. All it took was a little deflection here, a question turned around like barbs instead of answered there, an engulfing smile or sometimes a pout stretched coyly across her face. She learned that if she acted as they expected, then they would accept her.

Though Aerith felt safe, she was also so often alone. There was one person though, someone who Aerith had only known for a few months, who she felt could see right through her.

Aerith glanced up at the window where that one person had waved from earlier, but Tifa was gone.

Her eyes were next drawn down to the entranceway of the house. On the right side, near where the mailbox was, she found Tifa. The other woman leaned against one of the pillars that supported the second floor, eyes closed with her head tilted back against it.

Perhaps it was time to go see her. Aerith carefully gathered her feet beneath herself before standing up, brushing any loose dirt from the back of her dress. The breeze rustled her braid as she descended slowly from the platform one rung at a time.

Once she reached the bottom of the ladder, her destination was only a few steps away. Tifa hadn’t moved from before, not so much as an inch. From this distance Aerith could see that she almost looked relaxed if not for the familiar clench of anxiety in her fingers.

Tifa’s eyes fluttered open when Aerith approached, a hint of red visible within them even in the shaded light. Her hair was mussed slightly as she rightened herself from the post, lips lifting in a warm smile.

“Enjoying your tour?”

Aerith tucked her arms behind her back and nodded as she responded. “The water tower made for a great look out point.”

“I bet.” Tifa broke eye contact to glance up at the tower. “You can see everything from there.”

“Pretty much!”

When Tifa’s gaze came back to meet her own, her expression had shifted into a more pensive one. “Well, not quite everything. I know you saw through the window but…” She faltered in her words and turned her eyes down towards her hands, which came together to fidget. Tifa’s tone was soft, almost uncertain. “This is where I grew up, well, it used to be. Would you like to see it?”

Aerith’s heart panged in her chest. “Of course, if you want to show me.” She stepped forward and placed her hand gently on Tifa’s joined ones. “Lead the way.”

Tifa nodded once, mouth setting in a resolute line, before turning to do just that. Aerith trailed behind her through the front door of what used to be her home.

They passed through the downstairs areas one at a time, dodging around men in black cloaks throughout the first level of the building.

Tifa told her a story about how she used to train with her dad in the living room, but one time he deflected her kick straight through the wall and that was the end of that. She pointed out where the damage would’ve been in the old house, though this new one showed no sign of it. Tifa ran her hand over that spot on the wall, closing her eyes for a moment before pulling back.

“He sounds like a wonderful dad.” Aerith said, trying to keep the melancholy out of her tone. She hadn’t realized it until long after breaking out of Shinra, but she had never known her father or even a real father figure. It didn’t bother her too much, but in times like these she couldn’t help but think about it.

“Yeah, he was.” Tifa looked over at her with a hint of emotion in her eyes, head tilted slightly. Then, inexplicably, she smiled broadly. “I’m sure he would’ve loved you, you know. He looked after everyone; he was always kind like that.”

Aerith inhaled sharply, the response being an unexpected one. It cut straight through her thoughts, directly to her concerns and worries. This time when Aerith’s heart throbbed, it was a warmer feeling. It took a few moments for her to gather herself for a soft reply.

“Like father like daughter.”

This drew a hint of pink to Tifa’s cheeks, as well as a shake of her head. “Those are big shoes to fill.”

“I believe in you.” Aerith said strongly, her voice steady and firm. She believed every word.

Tifa’s reply came low under her breath, her face already turned away from Aerith. “Thank you.”

The two continued their trip through the house until they reached the upstairs. There were only two rooms up there, one of which Tifa pointed out as her dad’s room.

“And this one is mine.” Tifa didn’t hesitate as she pulled open the door, allowing both of them to enter.

The room itself was small and looked about the same from the inside as it had from the view on the water tower. There was a cabinet, a bed, and a piano all occupying space within the room.

Tifa went over to linger by the piano, while Aerith moved to look out the window. She could imagine past her sitting out on that platform, staring down at the abyss beneath her feet. She was on the second floor here as well, but with an entire building below her.

Aerith sat down on the side of the bed, longing again for a childhood home like this one with a childhood friend right next door. How was it that Cloud was lucky enough to know Tifa his whole life, but Aerith didn’t get to meet her until a few months ago?

“A gil for your thoughts?” Tifa’s voice came chipper and inquisitive from right in front of her.

Aerith looked up at her, covering up her surprise by lifting one finger to her chin. “For anyone else they’re not for sale. But for you, hmm…” Tifa’s eyes glimmered with emotion, concern or worry perhaps, as she waited for Aerith to finish her response. She must’ve been watching her think for a while.

They had come here into Tifa’s house to dig up her old memories, haunting and sad and terrible memories, but she wanted to know what Aerith was thinking about? If it was anyone else Aerith would’ve thought they were prying, or perhaps stalling or deflecting, but not Tifa. No, Tifa asked because she cared.

Lately, in what felt like a completely incomprehensible way, Tifa had pushed past the invisible boundaries Aerith erected around herself. This was just another moment, one of hundreds or thousands or more. In the gaze of Tifa’s kindness and care, there was nowhere for Aerith to hide. And, for perhaps the first time, she didn’t want to.

“Free.” Aerith declared with a smirk.

Tifa let out a half chuckle, gaze softening a little. “Tell me then, please.”

Aerith followed Tifa with her gaze as she sat down to her left, their knees almost touching. She took a deep breath, warm from just how close Tifa was. “I was thinking about this town. It feels odd to be where you and Cloud grew up. I never had that kind of childhood.”

Tifa moved one hand to cover Aerith’s in her lap when she paused, a silent gesture of support.

Aerith kept talking. “I always wished for a childhood friend, someone who would understand the real me. Even after escaping Shinra it was hard, being here just reminds me of that.”

“I see.” Tifa replied quietly, voice barely audible. Her face was close too, their foreheads only inches apart.

“But I’ve also been thinking that we only have so much time ahead of us, I can’t just dwell on the past.” Aerith continued, smiling softly as she spoke. “I need to appreciate the friends I’ve made, who see me for who I am. Especially you, Tifa. Ever since we met, my life has changed for the better.” Aerith finished without hesitation. “You’re the best friend I could ever ask for.” Maybe there was more to add to that once Aerith had more time to work through her feelings. For now, this was enough.

“Aerith….” Tifa’s slow inhale, so close yet still too far away, sent a tremor down her spine. “And you’re mine. You brighten every day and inspire me to push on despite the odds. No matter what happens, I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you.” Aerith blinked away the start of a few tears, unable to stop one from escaping. Tifa’s hand released hers and rose gently to brush that tear away. “Thank you…” She repeated, voice trailing away this time.

The touch of Tifa’s finger lingered against Aerith’s cheek for a heartbeat longer as silence took over the room, quiet but safe and warm.

Aerith leaned her head against Tifa’s shoulder for what she told herself would only be a few minutes. The warmth of an arm around her back followed, pulling Aerith even closer. The two sat together in this small room, on the second floor of a rebuilt house, in what should’ve been a destroyed town, enjoying the kindness of each other’s warmth.

What did Aerith do to deserve her? She didn’t know, but she prayed to the planet, to the lifestream, to any being out there that would listen for this relationship to last. She hoped against all odds that the cruelty of her fate would leave well enough alone and not tear the two apart, that the inevitability of gravity wouldn’t send them tumbling to their doom.

She prayed to be able to spend another day at Tifa’s side.

[hanzajesthanza]

hi hello i am several pages into your cahir tag and had a couple of questions if you feel like sharing your thoughts! when geralt first confronts cahir on the island in baptism of fire, there's the line "cahir said nothing. geralt felt bad. very bad." and i would love to know what your take on that is - 'very bad' in particular intrigues me. also, you reblogged a great analysis post about cahir and ciri that mentions publishing pressure laced with homophobia - do you have any info on that?

i'm so flattered, and also i love talking about these characters so i'll be glad to share my thoughts!

re: "geralt felt bad. very bad.":

the confrontation between geralt and cahir begins with geralt holding it over cahir's head, reminding him that he spared his life on thanedd. in which he calls him chłystku, "Żal mi się ciebie zrobiło, chłystku." this was translated as "I felt sorry for you, whippersnapper," though chłystek can also be "pipsqueak," "brat." what geralt is saying is, you young man (derogatory, with contempt).

cahir is something like 20, well, actually more like 30 to 40 years geralt's junior, and this is mentioned a couple of times times already (observations by dandelion's POV, that cahir was incapable of growing a beard, haha).

geralt is effectively scolding cahir in this confrontation, and cahir is not fighting him, taking the verbal beating.

‘(...) I’m preoccupied with one thought: to get my hands on the people who harmed Ciri. I’ve sworn that those who’ve harmed her will pay for it with their blood.’ Cahir did not speak. ‘Your revelations, which Milva has told me about, don’t change anything. There’s only one conclusion: you were unable to abduct Ciri on Thanedd, despite your best efforts. Now you’re trailing me, so that I can lead you to her. So that you can get your hands on her again, because then your imperator might spare you and not send you to the scaffold.’ Cahir said nothing. Geralt felt bad. Very bad. ‘She cried out in the night because of you,’ he snapped. ‘You grew to nightmarish proportions in her child’s eyes. But actually, you were–and are–only a tool, a wretched minion of your imperator.’

if cahir had piped up as geralt was scolding him here, if he had denied geralt's accusations, if he had bridled, if he had fought him like he had requested in ch. 2, that would have given geralt full rein to lay the smackdown. as the saying goes... "Go ahead, make my day..."

but cahir didn't make his day.

cahir is not really one to debase himself. as in tower of the swallow ch. 5 when he and geralt fight, cahir, like geralt, is obsessed with his own honor:

‘I’m not what I appear,’ said the young Nilfgaardian in a powerful, resonant voice. ‘Unfortunately, I can’t prove it. But I can do something else. Do what befits me, what I have to do, when I’m being slandered and insulted, when my honour is besmirched and my dignity sullied.’

geralt finally has in his clutches the black knight of cintra, his little girl's nightmare. and, like any father, wants to curbstomp him. badly. he wanted to do the same when he first met him, on thanedd:

‘I know who you are, Nilfgaardian,’ said the white-haired fiend, kicking the helmet with the hacked-up wings. ‘You have been pursuing her doggedly and long. But now you will harm her no more.’

but this is geralt: held back by his morals, by his scruples. who he has isn't the black knight of cintra, anymore.

and this is cahir:

There was no black knight of Cintra. There was a pale, dark-haired young man with stupefyingly blue eyes and a mouth distorted in a grimace of fear, kneeling in a pool of blood. (...) The terrified, cowering young man bleeding profusely was no one.

cahir is now only "a young face, which hadn’t grown much more stubble since the adventure under the beech tree." and again, geralt "[is] getting old, [and] starting to develop scruples."

geralt feels bad, very bad (it's just "źle, bardzo źle" in polish, so no weird translation issues from what i can tell) for two reasons:

‘I don’t know what you did to become a nightmare for her. And (...) I don’t understand why in spite of everything I can’t kill you. I don’t understand what’s holding me back.’

firstly, geralt is recalling how ciri suffered because of cahir, how she awoke in the night due to nightmares, nightmares which he could not help her with (and thus enlisted the help of triss, and later yennefer, who actually helped her with the trauma-related nightmares).

secondly, he is unconsciously holding himself back from killing cahir, because cahir is a sad-eyed young man who is no longer the black knight of cintra. geralt, as we know, loathes harming innocents, and can't bear to kill anything that doesn't deserve it. and cahir isn't doing anything (not being a threat, not even talking back) to deserve it.

and then, of course, further motivation to work together: cahir and geralt have in common that they want to rescue ciri, and they are both dreaming of her.

but geralt's inability to kill cahir always gets me, for how it emphasizes their characters: geralt, hounded by his scruples, and cahir, just a young man...

re: ringkvinna's analysis of cahir, imperialism, his love for ciri and about publishing pressure:

(damn, i love this analysis, haha. i also feel similarly about cahir and ciri, the paragraph beginning "In my opinion, it is the only way in which" is especially accurate, i think).

it was once a speculation of mine that a heterosexual romance was pushed for ciri because of homophobic attitudes from the publisher. nowadays i don't terribly stand by this, it's kind of just a theory, a book theory...

but it is true that there were reactions to mistle and ciri:

( John ) Did you know from the beginning that Ciri would fall in love with Mistle? ( AS ) Of course. It was one of the elements of the plan that was ready from the beginning. ( John ) And the scene in the library? ( AS ) And this is one of the things that came after the plan, there was no place in the original plan for Fringilla Vigo. When writing the scene in the library, I played with the idea of ​​writing it against people who say that it is impossible to do such a thing in Polish without falling into a vocabulary of gynecology or foul words. And I came up with an idea with books. But it still did not help, the newspaper that printed "Lady of the Lake" in parts, demanded from SuperNOWA, to cut that scene as pornographic. They were mocked by SuperNOWA. The Russians reacted to my alleged "pornography" even more ridiculously. I noticed while reading the translation that the Mistle-Ciri scene was heavily watered down. The translator, to whom I complained, stated that I should thank him, because at first the publisher demanded - demanded from the translator, I emphasize - to change Mistle into a boy.

Q&A with Sapkowski from the mid 2000's (Reddit, English translation) | F8 Key (Polish original text)

another time he mentioned this:

A. S.: Can I mention this story? Some lesbian elements were considered extremely dirty and without notifying the author, they decided to solve the problem by changing the gender of one of the girls. T. G .: I would have a stroke. A. S .: And Weisbrot strongly opposed (because I wasn't notified) and made them keep the original text. But even so, the whole fragment was strongly castrated. And since the whole story consisted of the three sentences, after the castration very little remained. Because it turned out, you know, that it is a complete pornography. 

"We will not tolerate pornography!" (Reddit, English translation)

(for context, sapkowski had a good friendship with russian translator eugene weisbrot, and actually dedicated lux perpetua (3rd book of the hussite trilogy) to him).

my speculation, then, was that because mistle's assault of ciri happens in time of contempt, and they begin a relationship in baptism of fire, i thought it would be possible for a homophobic attitude to rear its head in-between baptism of fire and tower of the swallow, that: 'ciri should have a male love interest, i hope that she will be delivered from this foulness by a decent boy.'

well, i don't disagree that this a potential thought of a publisher or even a reader, but i also think that sapkowski may have expected this too, and as always, was playing 4D chess with us.

because, in historia i fantastyka with stanisław bereś:

BS: Your women leave the role of the charming concubines. They not only kill as deftly as men, but in addition do not want to go to bed with them, because they prefer their girlfriends. Why, for example, did you make Ciri a lesbian? Why almost all the girls in the "Witch of Derby" tasted the fruits of same-sex love? Or is it some kind of psychoanalytic revenge? AS: I'm not sure. But I am certain that I'm not a lesbian. Although, on the other hand, the attraction that I sometimes feel for women, would claim the opposite. However, so that you do not have any doubts, I declare: I do not intend to shock anyone with such stories. For Russians, for example, as follows from numerous reviews, there were some complaints about these heroines and they even called me perverse and dirty. The Russian publishing house was so outraged that if not for my translator who, like a wolf and a hare in one person, lay down on the threshold and defended the work - they would've changed without the essence of the book, "bringing sex back to normal", that is by simply changing the gender of the characters. However, if there was any intention to show the women in this way - and there was - it was caused by the desire to move away from a stereotype, which states that the appearance of a woman in a transparent bra and lace panties in fantasy pursues one goal: to give rest to a warrior, who should treat this woman as an instrument (read: to fuck). So why can't she be a rest for a female warrior? The fact that I depict female characters in such a way does not mean that I am writing caricatures of real people! I parody the canon. A reader who knows fantasy well, after seeing that a lady in an openwork bra and transparent panties appeared in the book, thinks: "Oh! Another minute and! .. "And then - ay-ay-ay - nothing like that !!! I do this intentionally from purely insidious considerations. However, I was terribly touched by a certain author of fantasy, who stupidly and senselessly deprived his heroine of her virginity. At first he portrayed the heroine in such a way that the reader was 100% sure that she would, like Helena Kurcewicz, wander with her virginal hymn until the last scene of the book, in which she'll give it to the protagonist on the first wedding night. And this author suddenly, for no reason at all, without any seemingly grounded reason, makes his heroine give - excusez moi le mot! - her ass and to God knows who! Oh, how excited I got! "How is it possible?" I exclaimed. But then I thought: no, there is something in it. If I can, then I'll make someone nervous too. The reader will start thinking about, reflecting on which warrior should claim Ciri ... But then! This is the reason that motivated me to describe such female characters in my books. And consequently, this is not projection - in what you suspect me - of my own vaginal complications and phobias. I think if I had such problems, I probably would have known.

Andrzej Sapkowski and Stanisław Bereś "History and fantasy" (2007)

sapkowski often predicts what his readers will think, and then preemptively does something with the story to challenge their expectations.

in the case of mistle and ciri, he wanted to challenge the expectation that any (male) warrior would end up "claiming" ciri, instead it being a woman who takes ciri's virginity, and also showing the realistic, traumatic and devastating reality of this, of rape. all to push back on the fantasy trope of a male warrior "claiming" a girl.

back to cahir, i think that sapkowski may have also predicted that some readers were expecting a boy (as in: male love interest) to 'save' ciri from this relationship, and he introduced the cahir-ciri storyline as something which he knew would not be consummated in the end, which would end tragically.

this 'decent boy' comes across in cahir (who fails, as he is not the grail knight) and later, galahad (who succeeds, as he is the grail knight).

also, for how sapkowski has spoken of cahir and ciri:

Out of nobility (and love, because he protects Ciri), Cahir, a knight and officer, dies. Will a knight and officer defending his lady run away because he "soberly and thoughtfully" decides that it is unwise to fight, even if the opponent is a type like Bonhart? This would destroy the entire legendary history and the entire matiere de la chevalerie! It couldn't be like this! And this is apart from the fact that Cahir, alive, was in no way suitable for me to continue the action.

Sapkowski answers the questions of the active users of "Sapkowski Zone" (2001) (Reddit, English translation) | Active interview of Zone readers with Andrzej Sapkowski (Polish original text)

it's all just playing with tropes, with the fantasy canon...

‘Run away,’ whispered Ciri, seeing who was approaching along the corridor. ‘He’s the devil incarnate. But he only wants me. He won’t come after you … Run … Help Geralt …’ Cahir shook his head. ‘Ciri,’ he said kindly. ‘I’m surprised by what you’re saying. I came here from the end of the world to find you, rescue you and defend you. And now you want me to run away?’ ‘You don’t know who you’re up against.’

[asha-mage]

thom merrilin & jasin natael, prompt: contest

[Send me a character or pairing, and a one word prompt, and I'll write you a drabble!] 

           Thom Merilin stood, leaning against one of the marble pillars of the Sun Court, smoking his pipe, and trying not to fume to openly, as the sound of bard song, if it could be called that, drifted out over the crowd, all of whom where watching intent at the center of the room, where Jasin Natael preformed.

You were raised by wolves and voices Every night I hear them howling deep beneath your bed They said it all comes down to you You're the daughter of silent watching stones You watch the stars hurl all their fundaments In wonderment, at you and yours, forever asking more,

           Natael moved in a tight circle as he sang, his fingers strumming the harp in a rapid fire motion that Thom couldn’t help but try to follow with his eyes. His steps where not quite a dance, even as he turned in intricate circles around the center of the court’s main hall, and he made no effort at the acrobatics and gestures Thom would have. Yet despite that he seemed to project a grace of his own, as he swanned about, dignified and yet captivating. Yet it rankled Thom. Even the finest court bards did a little tumbling in their performances.

You are that space that's in between Every page, every chord and every screen You are the driftwood and the rift You're the words that I promise I don't mean We're drunk but drinking (sunk but sinking) They thought us blind (we were just blinking) All the stones and kings of old will hear us screaming at the cold,

            Jasin Natael didn’t wear a gleeman’s cloak any longer, though Thom had it on good authority he had begun with one. But he also was not clad in the finery of a court bard. Instead his midnight black coat was one of those the Asha’man wore, right down the twin pins shinning at the lapels. A golden dragon and a silver sword. It lent him a gravity Thom had to admit. A weight. And it his made his strange song seem….right somehow.

"Remember me, " I ask "Remember me, " I sing Give me back my heart, you wingless thing!

Thom harrumphed as the crowd seemed to lean forward, caught like as if by the Power as the song shifted, the beat intensifying, and the man’s fingers seem to somehow, impossibly, flick faster across the cords of his harp. Jasin Natael had found his way to the center of the great golden sunburst on the floor and was turning in a endless circle, his voice somehow thrown in a way that seemed to give the song a grand echoing quality.

Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring I promise you, they'll sing of every time You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child Witness me, old man, I am the wild!

“Where is the story?” Thom muttered to himself, puffing on his pipe. One of the nearby nobles turned to regard him with a gaped, googling expression, as if shocked Thom had dared speak instead of listening with rapt attention. Thom made a face at her and she sniffed, snapping her attention back to Natael and his song.

You are the son of every dressing-up box And I am time itself, I slow to let you play I steal the hours and turn the night into day By day, oh Lord, three things I pray That I might understand as best I can How bold I was, could be, will be, still am, by God, still am!

Natael seemed to glow under the torchlight as he sang, but Thom, while begrudgingly impressed by the technical skill the man was displaying, couldn’t fight back a snear. It was a good song musically, but lyrically? It was all image and poetry, feeling and emotion without shape or scaffold to put it too: the rough shod kind of thing a farmboy with delusions of grandeur would cook up. Thom would bet that was how this man had begun, for all his airs: a common farm boy, who thought a few clever rhymes meant he had the stuff of a court bard.

Fret not, dear heart, let not them hear The mutterings of all your fears The fluttering of all your wings Welcome to the storm, I am thunder Welcome to my table, bring your hunger!

Songs, truly good songs, needed to tell a story, to have character and movement. From Mistress Aynora’s Rooster, to The Great Hunt of the Horn. Even The Wind that Shakes the Willow had character, a story, a clear tale to be told. All this disjointed flitting about in Natel’s song made it so that even the most uncultured laborer would be confused by it.

Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring I promise you, they'll sing of every time You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child Witness me, old man, I am the wild!

And yet the Sun Court seemed to devour it, as enchanted by him as the Court of Andor had ever been for any of Thom’s performances. He knew a crowd that was merely being polite, and he knew a crowd who was well and truly caught. This one was caught.

Remember me Remember me! Remember me! Remember me! Remember me! Remember me!

"Remember me, " I ask! "Remember me, " I sing!

“It’s the Power.” Thom decided. It had to be. Some trick of the power to make the performance more appealing- that was it. A clever trick that fit a gleeman Wilder turned Asha’man.

Think of all the horrors that I- Promised you I'd bring! I promise you, they'll sing of every- Time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child! Witness me old man, I am the-! Think of all the horrors that I- Promised you I'd bring! I promise you, they'll sing of every- Time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child! Witness me, old man, old man, old man, I am the-!

Natael struck the final cord of the song in an echoing note, and the crowd exploded into applause, while Thom harrumphed again. For a moment Natael just stood there at the center of the room, basking in the adoration, breathing heavily, and then he bowed, and somehow the applause doubled in intensity.

By the time it had died down Thom had made his way into the center of the court and Natael was evening out his breathing, straightening to smile at Thom in a soft, condescending sort of way.

“Well.” He said. “That's my turn done then. And yours ready to go. Good luck.” He tilted his head, and left the old man, unspoken.

Thom sneered as he drew out his flute. He would remind these people what true music sounded like. He watched Natael wander into the crowd, plucking a wine cup from a passing serving man, and smiling back at Thom in a way that reeked of smug satisfaction. Jasin Natael knew they where competing, and believed he had already soundly won.

Smiling back, Thom brought his flute to his lips and began to play.

(Song is, The Horror and the Wild, by The Amazing Devil)

[dariusult]

FFXIV Write Day 12- Quarry

The sun shone overhead, relentlessly bearing down upon the ravaged countryside of Dalmasca with its harsh light and unrelenting heat, obscured only briefly by plumes of thick, acrid smoke that rose from the churning battlefield below. The thunderous report of firearms, the rumble of magitek, and the clash of steel rose along with the smoke, barely audible over the warm tones of an orchestrion, pumping out the sound of a small brass band playing a slow, melancholy tune.

The orchestrion was perched on a small table situated on a light metal scaffolding that had been deployed onto a cliff side overlooking a rather pitched battle between the Dalmascan Resistance and the Garlean Fourth Legion. Several figures stood at attention on the scaffolding, their black metal armor baking under the relentless Dalmascan sun—but a single figure lounged under an umbrella that had been stuck through the table on the scaffolding. A Garlean man aged at least into his sixties, wearing black armor marked with the Ninth Legion insignia, alongside golden accents that indicated his lofty rank: Tribunus Laticlavius, was relaxing in a comfortable chair, an immaculately carved ivory pipe stuffed full of tobacco in one hand, and a high-powered Garlean built rifle gripped loosely in the other, resting against his arm with its barrel on the railing pointed down towards the battle raging below. He puffed on his pipe, markedly unconcerned with the state of the conflict being waged nearby. He had no interest in whether or not the Fourth Legion would emerge triumphant; He was here for one reason, and one reason alone.

One of the men behind him shifted uncomfortably. Without turning his head, the tribunus exhaled a cloud of smoke and asked in a smooth, orotund voice, "something the matter, centurion?"

The soldier felt his stomach flop as his discomfort was acknowledged, the Ninth Legion didn't look kindly on any signs of weakness or those who lacked discipline. "N-no my lord Clodius."

"Now, now..." The Tribune, now identified as Clodius, chided. "We're not aboard the Cocytus, you may speak freely."

"My lord..." The centurion hesitated, looking to the other soldiers who were present, they were all looking at him, but offered no support or encouragement. Deciding, perhaps foolishly, to take Clodius at his word, the Imperial officer gave voice to his discomfort. "I simply chafe at the thought of battle being joined but not being able to contribute."

"Ah, but you are contributing, centurion." Clodius said, gesturing towards a soldier standing to his left, surveying the battlefield with a pair of binoculars. "The pilus..." He gestured to another soldier, holding a bucket filled with ice, in which was resting a bottle of plundered Rabanastran spirits. "The decurion..." He then motioned back over his shoulder at the centurion, still without looking "And you... Are aiding me in one of the most noble of endeavors."

The centurion's brow furrowed beneath his helmet, his expression hidden by the skeletal mask of his equipment. "My lord?"

Clodius raised his pipe to his mouth and took a few thoughtful puffs from it, languidly shifting further back in his chair. After a moment, he exhaled a cloud of thick tobacco smoke. "Hierarchies are a part of nature, centurion. They exist in all things: which flowers are most beautiful, which trees are most hardy, which metals are most precious." He paused for dramatic effect. "Which animals eat and which are eaten."

"Lord Clodius." The pilus prior currently surveying the battlefield spoke up softly, interrupting the conversation. "Agmund has taken the field." He gestured down towards the Dalmascan lines. "Fifth column, first row, wearing green."

"Very good, pilus." Clodius said as he slowly sat forward, taking his rifle and bracing the stock against his shoulder as he took the grip in hand and peered down the scope of the weapon, slowly adjusting it to bring the battlefield into view. With his pipe still clenched in his teeth, he continued speaking as he adjusted his gun's sights. "We are also part of Nature's hierarchies, centurion. As those who embody the pinnacle of civilization, we sit at the very apex of the natural order. It is both our privilege and solemn duty to be that which all others strive towards..." The rifle barrel slowly pivoted, sweeping over the battlefield as its scope searched the faces and forms of the men and women clashing far below, stopping as the crosshairs of the scope fell over a large Hrothgar man wearing a dusty green longcoat, furiously swinging a gunblade as he boldly cut his way through the ranks of imperial legionnaires before him. "... As well as our privilege and duty to remind all others of their own places in the hierarchy. For we are the hunters, and they... The prey." BOOM! The rifle suddenly fired with thunderous force, shaking the platform and kicking up a cloud of dust that engulfed the entire scaffold and everyone on it for a moment.

The dust slowly cleared as a gust of wind swept over the cliff face and the platform perched upon it. As soon as there was visibility, the pilus prior quickly raised his binoculars and surveyed the battlefield once again, finally coming to a halt on the still form of a fallen Bozjan gunbreaker. "Excellent shot, my lord. Your quarry is slain."

"The natural hierarchy, asserted once again." Clodius said as he lifted his rifle up off of the railing, handing it off to the pilus prior as he turned his chair towards the table, the decurion stepping forward and producing a tall thin glass before setting it down in front of the Tribunus Laticlavius and uncorking the bottle of Rabanastran alcohol, taking great care to pour the rich amber liquid without spilling a drop.

"The savages' heroes are merely tomorrow's trophies, centurion." Clodius said as he took the glass by its delicate stem and held it up to the centurion in a quick toast before taking a long, slow sip, sending drops of the amber beverage tumbling down his neatly trimmed gray-brown beard and onto the hot metal scaffolding beneath him. He then placed the glass down and let out a satisfied sigh. "Ah, lovely. Now then..." The aged Tribunus reached down to his hip and unsheathed a large knife that had been hanging at his hip: a double-sided dagger that may have been big enough to qualify as a small sword. The blade was immaculately maintained, and was joined to a hilt that appeared to be carved from some sort of horn, engraved with the Ninth Legion insignia and motto: Omnes Legioni. He turned his head to throw an appraising glance at the centurion, then beckoned him over.

The centurion quickly stepped over, crisply snapping to attention in front of the Tribunus, who nonchalantly offered him the hilt of the blade, which the soldier accepted after a moment of hesitation. "M-my lord?"

"You wanted to contribute, centurion." Clodius stated flatly. "We have hunted our prey, and now your contribution shall be retrieving the trophy." He then turned back away from the soldier and picked his drink back up, throwing a dismissive wave over his shoulder at the stunned centurion. "Do take care not to damage the pelt overmuch, hm?"

[wjbminecraft]

The Steamworks Café and its resident train, the Shadow Express.

Mod(s) used: Create

More info below.

Blocks used, in alphabetical order (modded are in italics):

Andesite Bars

Andesite Scaffolding

Black Wool

Blaze Burner

Clipboard

Cogwheel

Copycat Panel

Copycat Step

Creative Fluid Tank

Creative Motor

Cut Tuff Bricks

Cut Tuff Wall

Dark Oak Door

Dark Oak Hanging Sign

Dark Oak Sign

Display Board

Fluid Pipe

Fluid Tank

Fluid Valve

Flywheel

Framed Glass Door

Green Valve Handle

Grey Carpet

Grey Concrete

Grey Seat

Mechanical Pump

Red Seat

Red Valve Handle

Shadow Casing

Shaft

Small Scoria Brick Wall

Spruce Fence

Spruce Planks

Spruce Trapdoor

Steam Engine

Train Casing

Train Door

Train Station

Train Track

Vertical Framed Glass Pane

Albums listened to while building:

Parklife by Blur (Disc 1 only)

Women In Technology by White Town

Strange Disciple by Nation Of Language

[babeyvenus]

Home: The Last Of Us

Tlou x black! reader

What if Riley had a twin and watched over Ellie for her? What if Ellie wasn't the only one who was immune? What if the cordyceps modified into something more?

A/N: I should've posted this on here first; eventually gonna be a Jesse x reader fic

Chapter 1: We Meet

"Come on! Let's go!", (Y/N) shouted as they headed towards the back room of the store. "Barricade the door!", Riley shouts as they push a large shelf against it. "This way! C'mon!", Riley shouts. "What about our backpacks?", Ellie asked her. "Fuck the backpacks!", (Y/N) shouted and the three of them ran away as fast as they could.

They maneuvered their way through the back hallways of the mall until they make it to a room that had a scaffolding, that led to an open window. "That's our way out!", (Y/n) exclaimed and they started to make their way towards the window.

However, Ellie falls off of the scaffolding, scaring the twins. "Ellie!", (Y/N) screamed as they jumped down and saw an infected had her pinned down. (Y/N) shot the infected that had her pinned down as Riley shot the ones that were coming in. "Let’s go!.", (Y/N) yelled at Ellie only to have been knocked down by an infected.

"You guys.", Riley said. The two turned to her and she had a look of sadness on her face as she stared at Ellie. "Your arm." She points out.

She heard Riley scream and (Y/N) heard her fall down just as Ellie yelled her name. (Y/N) raises her gun and shot the infected in the head, quickly shoving him off of her. Ellie looks at her and (Y/N) gives her a nod of reassurance. She gets up and they rush over to Riley, who had an infected on top of her. "Riley!”, Ellie shouts and she grabs the infected, stabs it, repeatedly. Then she shoved the blade in the infected's neck and slit its throat as Riley kicked it off of her.

The girls take several deep breaths and look around the place. "I think it's clear.", (Y/N) says, catching her breath. "Yeah.", Ellie said.

Ellie looks down at her right arm, which was covered in blood. She frantically wipes away the blood and reveals a bite mark. (Y/N) gasped and felt her heart sink as she dropped her blade and stared at the bite.

"No.", Ellie whimpered as she wiped away the running blood flowing out of the bite. "No, no, no, no, no! No!" (Y/N) shakes her head in disbelief. “No fucking way…”

Riley was leaning against the scaffolding, her legs pulled up to her chest. (Y/N) held her and kept her tears from falling. Two of her best friends were gonna die on her… She was gonna be the only survivor. What was she gonna tell Marlene...?

"This...this is...no way.", (Y/N) whimpered and scanned herself for any bites. Luckily, she didn't get bit at all. She looked over at Riley as she holds up her left hand, revealing a bite mark. "No! No! Not you too!”, (Y/N) exclaimed, tearing up as she rushed over to her sister.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!", Ellie screams, angrily, as she breaks a few pots with a pipe she found.

Ellie stops breaking things and the twins look up slightly to see she had sat down next to them. "There's some more stuff over there you can break.", Riley said, drained as Ellie takes a few deep breaths. "What are we gonna do? What are you guys gonna do? I can't lose you two! You guys are all that I've got!", (Y/N) says, panicked.

"The way I see it, we got two options. Option one: Ellie and I take the easy way out. It's quick and painless. Could have you do it, (Y/N).", Riley said and her twin shook her head vigorously. "I'm not doing that shit. How could you even ask me to do that?", (Y/N) said, brokenly.

"Two: we fight.", Riley continued. "Fight for what?", Ellie asked her. "We're gonna turn into one of those things, Riley."

"There are a million ways we should've died before today. And a million ways we can die before tomorrow. But we fight...for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it's two minutes...or two days...we don't give that up. I don't want to give that up." Riley said and (Y/N) looked over at Ellie and she stared at her.

"My vote. Let's just wait it out. You know we can...we can just lose our minds together. And (Y/N) can live the life that we couldn’t live.", Riley said as her twin let out a shaky breath.

"What's option three?", (Y/N) croaked. She stares at Riley as the dying twin shakes her head. "Sorry.", she said softly.

(Y/N) shook her head. “This is all my fucking fault. I should've told you no.”, she whimpered. "C'mon.", Riley said as she stood up and started to walk. The two girls on each side stood up holding each other's hands.

“(Y/N)! Hey, (Y/N)!”

The Abel twin opens her eyes to see Ellie standing in front of her, worried. “Hey, you okay?”, she asked. (Y/N) sits up.

She was dreaming…

She wipes her eyes, feeling the wetness that came from them. Oh… she was crying again…

She looked at Ellie as the redhead looks back at her in worry. “I’m fine.”, (Y/N) says, avoiding her gaze. She can’t look her in the eye. Not after she had almost gotten her killed.

Suddenly, the door opens and Marlene falls forward on her knees. "Whoa, whoa, whoa...Come on now, get up." An older man said as he kneels down to her. "Get the fuck away from her!", (Y/N) shout as she rushed at him with her knife but a woman catches her arm before she could cause any damage. "Hey, hey, hey.", she warned.

"Let her go." Marlene said and the woman let go of (Y/N) wrist. "You're recruitin' kind of young, aren't ya?", The man said to Marlene as he nodded towards the girls. "The redhead is not one of mine. But you are correct about her.", Marlene gestures towards (Y/N).

"Shit. What happened?" Ellie asked Marlene. (Y/N) looked over and noticed a wound on Marlene's stomach. "Don't worry. This is fixable. I got us help...but I can't come with you two.", Marlene replied. They stare at her in shock. "Well then I'm staying." Ellie said and (Y/N) nodded. "Damn straight.", she said to her.

"Ellie, (Y/N), we won't get another shot at this.", Marlene said to them. "Wha -- we're smuggling them?", The old man asked, pointing at them.

"Speaking of which, where are they?", the woman asked her. "Back in our camp.", Marlene replied. "We're not smuggling shit until I see them.”

"There's a crew of Fireflies that'll meet you at the Capitol Building.", Marlene bribed. "That's not exactly close.", the woman replied. "You're capable. You hand them off, come back, the weapons are yours. Double what Robert sold me.", Marlene says.

"Ellie! (Y/N)...", Marlene called them firmly. They looked at her in disbelief. (Y/N) asked, "How do you know him?"

"You'll follow me. You can verify the weapons, I can get patched up.", Marlene said as she nodded towards Ellie and (Y/N). "But they're not crossing to that part of town. I want Joel to watch over them." 

 

"Whoa, whoa. I don't think that's the best idea.", The man, Joel, said at the same time while Ellie and (Y/N) exclaimed in anger. "Bullshit! We're not going with him."

Marlene looked over at Joel. "I was close with his brother, Tommy. Said if I was ever in a jam I could rely on him."

Joel scoffs at this. "Was that before or after he left your little militia group?"

"He left you too. He was a good man.", Marlene said. "Look, just take them to the north tunnel and wait for me there.", the woman said to Joel. 

"Jesus, Tess." Joel grumbles then the woman, Tess, as she shakes her head. "They're just cargo, Joel."

"Marlene...", Ellie pleaded to Marlene. "No more talking. Now go with him.", Marlene said as she nodded at Joel.

"The Fireflies. Same thing's gonna happen to us if we don't get off the street.", Joel said as they headed towards a set of stairs. "You're the pro. We're just following you.", (Y/N) said.

Joel stares at the girls then looks over at Marlene before letting out a heavy sigh. "Don't take long.", he said to Tess then he turned to the girls once more. "And you two-- stay close. Let's go." He walked out the door.

 As they made it outside, they looked around. "Whoa...we heard all the shooting, but...What happened?", Ellie asked as they walked past the dead bodies of the Fireflies.

"Attention. Harboring or aiding wanted criminals is punishable by death. Do not place yourself at risk. Report any suspicious activity immediately." the announcement said over the speakers as they walked down the stairs then headed towards a little alleyway.

Hearing that announcement reminded (Y/N) of when Riley and Ellie were making their own impressions of their old morning announcements. They couldn't do that anymore. It was harder to even joke about that.

"Where are we going?", Ellie asked him. "Up there...", Joel said as he pointed up at the top of a building on their left. "...that'll get us to the north tunnel.", he said. "And how are we supposed to reach that?", (Y/N) asked as she looked at a tall platform which had a fire escape, leading to the top floor.

"Down here." Joel said as they walked through this little tunnel then up the stairs, leading them to a gated sidewalk. "C'mon, keep up." Joel said to the girls. "We are." Ellie says, exasperated. They turned a corner through an alley then through an open gate, which led to an open back alley.

"Yep." Joel replied.

"Give me a minute.", Joel said to her as he looked around until he found a dumpster. He grabs one end of the dumpster and brings the dumpster up to the platform. He lets go and climbs up to the platform, then up the stairs. Ellie and (Y/N) follow him close behind.

"This tunnel. You use it to smuggle things?", Ellie asked Joel as they got to the top of the stairs and inside the building.

"Like illegal things?", (Y/N) asked. "Sometimes." He replied.

"You ever smuggle a couple of kids before?", Ellie asked Joel. "No. That's a first.", Joel said to him as they walked down this long walkway.

"So what's the deal with you two and Marlene, anyways?", Joel asked them. "I don't know. She's our friend, I guess.", Ellie replied, shrugging. "Your friend, huh?", Joel asks, suspiciously. "You two are friends with the leader of the Fireflies. What're you two, like twelve?"

"She knew my mom, and she's been looking after me.", Ellie replied. "She worked with my parents. And we're fourteen, not that that has anything to do with anything.", (Y/N) says, firmly.

"So where are your parents?", Joel asked them. "Where are anyone's parents? They've been gone a long, long time.", Ellie sighed.

"So instead of just staying in school, you two just decide to run off and join the Fireflies, is that it?" Joel asked them.  "Look. We're not supposed to tell you why you're smuggling us if that's what you're getting at.", (Y/N) combats.

"You wanna know the best thing about my job? I don't gotta know why. Be honest with you, I could give two shits about what you're up to.", Joel replied to her as them walked down this hall and came up to the last door on the right. "Well great.", Ellie said.

"Good." Joel grumbles. "Okay.", (Y/N) warned as he opened the door.

"This is it.", he said to them as they walked in the room. Joel shut the door behind them. He goes over to the couch and lays down.

"What are you doing?", (Y/N) asked him. "Killing time.", Joel replied as he closed his eyes. "Well, what are we supposed to do?", Ellie asked him. "I'm sure you two will figure that out.", Joel said.

The girls sigh and walk by, moving up to a window. (Y/N) looked at Joel and noticed his cracked watch. "Your watch is broken."

Hours later, they looked out at the window as the rain fell against the glass. (Y/N) leaned against the window, letting the cool glass freeze on her face. 

The two girls looked over the buildings through the window just as Joel gasps then he turns his head for a few moments then he starts to sit up with a groan.

"You mumble in your sleep. I hate bad dreams.", Ellie said. "Yeah, me too.", Joel mutters as he runs his hands over his eyes.

"You know, we've never been this close. To the outside. Look how dark it is.", (Y/N) said as Joel stood up and walked over to a lantern and turned it on. "Can't be any worse out there. Can it?", Ellie asked him.

"What on earth do the Fireflies want with you two?”, Joel asked them until they heard the door open behind then. They turned around and saw Tess had entered the room. "Hey. Sorry it took so long. Soldiers fuckin' everywhere.", she informed them. Ellie stood up. "How's Marlene?"

"She'll make it." Tess said to them then she turned to Joel. "I saw the merchandise. It's a lot. Wanna do this?"

"Yeah.", Joel replied. "Let's go.", she said and they went through the other room then over to this secret passage in the corner wall, where there was a generator and a small elevator inside.

"Don't you think it's a bit strange that they're askin' us to do their smuggling?", Joel asked her. "Marlene wanted to do it herself. We weren't the first choice, or the second for that matter. She's lost a lot of men. Beggars can't be choosers.", Tess replied.

"Let's just hope there's someone alive to pay us.", Joel said as he went over to the generator and started it up.

"Someone'll be around.", Tess said after the generator revs up. They walk over to the elevator and Joel pushes a button then it starts to go down.

"Who's waitin' for us at the drop-off?", Joel asked her. "She said there's some Fireflies that have traveled all the way from another city. These two must be important.", she said, then she turned to the girls. "What is the deal with you two? You guys some bigwig's kids or something?"

"Something like that.", Ellie replied. "I'm not exactly important. I'm just someone who got involved with her.", (Y/N) said.

A half lie.

"How long is this all gonna take anyways?", (Y/N) asked them.

"If everything goes as planned, we should get you to them in a few hours.", Tess replied then she gave them a stern look.

"Once we get out there, I need you two to follow our lead and stay close." Tess told the girls. "Yeah, of course." Ellie said as the elevator stopped and they walked until they came up to a patched roof.

"Climb up and check if the coast is clear.", Tess said to Joel and he climbed up a ladder then lifted up the cover and looked around. "Hold up. There's a patrol up ahead.", He said. They waited a few minutes until Joel turns to the girls.

"Alright, we're good. Come on up.", he said as he pushed the cover away. Tess climbs up first then he turns to the girls. "C'mon, kids. Watch your steps.", Tess said. They all climb out then Joel places the cover back over the entrance.

"This rain ain't gonna do us any good.", he complained as they walked along the trench. "Holy shit, I'm actually outside.", Ellie said, in slight disbelief.

They came upon a trailer that was leaning up a hill. "Up this way.", Joel said as he went first. They passed through the trailer, but then a guard popped out of nowhere and hit Joel in the back of his neck.

The girls gasped just as a second guard came up behind them and aimed their gun at them. "Don't do anything stupid.", the first guard said.

Tess, Ellie and (Y/N) raise their hands. "Move.", the second guard ordered and they walked out of the trailer and onto the muddy wet ground.

"Turn around. On your knees.", the first guard ordered and they did as they're told.

"You scan 'em. I'll call it in.", the first guard said as (Y/N) got down on her knees between Joel and Ellie, Tess kneels down on Joel's other side. "Alright.", the second guard agreed. "Put your hands on your head.", he ordered as they silently complied.

"This is Ramirez at Sector Twelve. Requesting pickup for four stragglers. Understood.", the first guard said after she picked up a radio.

The second guard goes and puts the scanner on Tess's neck.

"Look the other way. We can make this worth your while.", Tess bribes him.

"Shut up.", the guard grumbled, annoyed as the scanner beeps then he goes over to Joel.

"I'm getting tired of this shit.", he mutters as the scanner beeps again. "What's the ETA?", the guard asked the other as he scanned me. "Couple a minutes." replied the second guard as the first one went to scan Ellie. (Y/N) glares at the guard, taking note of Ellie's nervousness and gradual heavy breathing.

Suddenly, Ellie turns around and stabs the guard in the leg then stands up but the guard hits her with his gun, knocking her to the side.

(Y/N) jumped up and wrestled with the guard, before he had the chance to shoot Ellie. Joel grabs the guard off of her and knocks him down.

Then Tess shoots the second guard in the head and Joel shoots the first guard. "Oh...oh fuck.", Ellie said, shocked, as she leaned against a large crate. "I thought we were just gonna hold them up or something.", she said, panting.

He looks at it and stops in his tracks. The girls knew what that meant. "Marlene set us up?", Joel asked, in disbelief. "Why the hell are we smuggling an infected girl?" (Y/N) guarded Ellie as Joel glared at them.

(Y/N) kneeled to hug her. "You're fine."

"Oh, shit.", Tess mutters and (Y/N) snaps her attention to see Tess holding the scanner. "What?", Joel asked. "Look.", she said and she tossed the scanner to him.

"I'm not infected.", Ellie says. "No? So was this lying?", Joel asked, angrily, as he threw the scanner in their direction.

"We can explain.", (Y/N) said. "You two better explain fast.", Tess threatened. "Look at this!", Ellie exclaimed, revealing the bite.

"I don't care how you got infected." Joel waves off the look of the bite. "It's three weeks old.", Ellie stated.

"No. Everyone turns within two days, so you stop bullshitting.", Tess said to Ellie. "It's three weeks. I swear.", Ellie said. "She's telling the truth. I was there when she was bitten. Why would Marlene set you up?", (Y/N) asked as she looked between the two adults.

Tess looks over at Joel as he shakes his head and turns away.

"I ain't buying it.", he said then stopped. "Oh, shit." The girls look up to see some lights coming toward them. "Tess, run. RUN!", he yelled and the four of them ran away.

After avoiding the guards and going through some trenches and broken down buildings, they make our escape to a drainage trench.

(Y/N) sighed heavily, catching her breath. "Alright, they're gone.", Joel said as they looked up and heard some of the guards' vehicles leaving.

Tess turns to them. "Look, what was the plan? Let's say that we deliver you two to the Fireflies, what then?"

"Marlene...She said that they have their own little quarantine zone. With doctors there, still trying to find a cure.", (Y/N) replied. "Yeah, we've heard that before, huh, Tess?", Joel cuts her off. 

"And that...whatever happened to me is the key to finding a vaccine.", Ellie continued. "Oh, Jesus.", Joel mutters, rolling his eyes. "That's what she said.", Ellie said to him, frustrated. "Oh, I'm sure she did.", Joel says, sarcastically.

"Hey, fuck you, man. I didn't ask for this.", Ellie yelled at him. "Me neither.", Joel says as he turns to Tess. "Tess, what the hell are we doing here?"

"What if it's true?", she asked him and Joel looked at her in disbelief.

"I can't believe--", Joel says, in shock that she would even suggest a thing. He shakes his head at this.

"What if, Joel? I mean we've come this far, let's just finish it.", Tess said to him. "Do I need to remind you what is out there?", Joel growls out as he points out towards the landscape of torn down and broken buildings.

She sighs, looking at Joel then over to the girls before she turns back to him. "I get it.", she said and she walked away. 

"They bombed the hell out of the surrounding areas to the quarantine zones, hoping to kill as much of the infected as possible.", Tess informed.

"This way. If we cut through downtown, we can hit the capitol building by sunrise.", Tess said as she gestures towards the former highway road. "We hope.", Joel mutters as he follows them.

"Holy moley. I guess this is what these buildings look like up close.", Ellie said in amazement, as the Abel twin looked up at the broken skyscrapers. "They're so damn tall. So, what happened here?", Ellie asked.

Suddenly, they heard a strangled cry off in the distance. "Uhh, what the hell was that?", Ellie asked, nervously. "Tess, do you hear that?", Joel whispered. "Yeah. Sounded pretty far away though.", Tess says, nonchalantly. "Shit.", Joel muttered.

"Are we safe?", Ellie asked. "For now. Come on.", Tess reassures as they continue down the road until we come upon a giant bomb crater.

"Damn. That's… a drop.", (Y/N) said as she walked up to the edge and looked down.

"Well, there's the capitol building.", Joel pointed out. (Y/N) looked up and saw a large white building with a golden, rounded roof. "Yeah, we need to get around this mess.", Tess said as she gestured towards the crater.

"Yeah...", Joel mutters as he walks up to the body and looks it over.

"This is the downtown area?", Ellie asked, shocked. "It was. Now it's a giant wasteland.", Tess says. "Over here.", Joel hollered and they followed him, then got inside of the building and started to make their way through it.

At one point, Joel opened a door and found the dead mangled body of an officer. "He's been ripped apart.", Tess deadpans.

"Body's pretty fresh.", he said. "Isn't that bad?", (Y/N) asked, nervously. "Yeah, might be... Let's not stick around.", Tess said as they continued on.

They walk up a stairwell when they come up on another body. "Another one. Shit.", Joel muttered as Joel looked over then read the paper that was next to the body. "Looks like these guys died waiting for backup.", he informed.

"Dammit. Clicker.", Joel growls. "Geez. What's wrong with its face?", Ellie asked as Joel pulled the body off and away from the door and (Y/N) almost gagged in disgust.

They headed up another set of stairs then through the door to their left, only to see a body up against a door, covered in what looked like fungus.

"We're definitely not gonna die...", (Y/N) assured herself as Joel tried to open a large metal door, but couldn't.

"That's what years of infection'll do to you.", Tess says. "So what, are they...blind?", (Y/N) asked. "Sort of. They see using sound.", she replied as Joel should rammed the door. "Like bats?", Ellie asked, curiously. "Like bats. If you hear one clicking, you gotta hide. That's how they spot you.", Tess said as they made their way through the building.

At one point the building began to groan as the storm made the building wobbly for a moment. "Shit.", Ellie and (Y/N) whispered. "Whole building feels like it's about to fall apart.", Joel said as they crouched under a low shelf then over to another room.

"Gimme a hand with this.", Joel said to Tess and both of them go and shoulder ram the door until it finally opens.

"Joel!", Tess exclaimed as a Clicker popped up and knocked him down. He keeps the Clicker away from biting him until Tess pulls it off of him, throws it to the ground and shoots it in the head.

"Holy shit!", (Y/N) exclaimed in fright. "Thanks...", Joel says appreciatively, as he stands back up.

Joel kneels down and holds his hands out. (Y/N) goes over, jumped up and grabbed her hand, being pulled up. "C'mon, Ellie.", Tess said.

"You alright?" Ellie asked him. "It's nothin'.", Joel assures her shortly. "C'mon. Let's get the hell outta here.", he said and they continued on their way through the building.

"Just see if there's a way through.", Joel said to Tess as he boosts her up a floor. "Okay...", Tess said once she got up and looked around. "It's clear."

"Alright, kid, you're up." Joel said as Ellie walks up to the tall wall and Tess helps her up.

Tess grabs a bottle next to her then throws it to distract the Clicker as it goes one way and they go the other. "That's our way out, over the scaffolding.", Tess said after they escaped the room then headed towards a stairwell, which was blocked by a large cabinet.

"Come on.", Tess said until Ellie was pulled up to the floor. Tess kneels down and reached out to Joel. "C'mon, big guy. Gimme your hand." He grabs her hand then she pulls him up.

But after Tess pulled him, they heard a noise. "Clickers?", (Y/N) asked. "Oh, shit. Go, go, go.", Tess said, and they quickly hid in an old cafeteria and behind a long counter. Crouching silently, they hear the Clicker come up to the counter then it limps away.

She's insane.

Joel grabs the cabinet, pulls it out and moves it to the side. "Here you go.", Joel said and we jumped down the staircase. "The stairwell blocked. Should we go back up?", Ellie asked as she points at the other set of stairs. Tess then climbs out the window onto a rusted window-washing rig. "Ahh, this is crazy.", she mutters then she turns to the girls. "Just don't look down."

"Wha--? Are you serious?", (Y/N) asked, watching as Tess ran across the rig.

(Y/N) lands on it then Joel and Ellie get on the rig and run over to the other rig that was next to them.

"C'mon, kids." Tess said as she gets up to the ledge of the building and leans against the wall. "Yeah, yeah...", (Y/N) muttered as she got up to the ledge next to her and leaned back. "Don't look down. Don't look down.", Ellie mutters to herself as they shuffled along the ledge.

"I'll go check it out. Stay with the girls.", Joel said to her and he jumped down to the floor and took out a couple of runners by strangling them or attacking them with a pipe.

"You're okay. We got a way through." Tess assures us. "Oh, boy...", they hear Joel mutter just as they come up to an open window and jump through it.

"Runners.", Tess said as she points to the floor below. "Oh, for fuck's sake…", (Y/N) mutters.

"Alright. Come on down.", Joel calls out. "I'm impressed.", Tess said as Ellie and (Y/N) made their way down. "Let's just get outta here.", Joel said, unamused and they continued on out of the office like area.

"There, see? We're doin' alright.", Tess said to the girls, more pointedly at Joel who was brooding in the back. "Uh-huh.", Joel grumbles as they come up to see that the floors of the building had caved in.

"Well, I won't this time.", she said. "I'll believe it when I see it.", he mutters as they come up to an abandoned underground subway.

"Whoa.", Ellie and (Y/N) said in amazement as they looked at the beyond tattered building. "Down we go.", Tess said. "Let's get to it.", Joel said and the four of them descended.

"You know, I was thinkin'...after we get back, we can take it easy for a little while.", Tess said to Joel as the girls walk ahead of them. "You want to take it easy?", Joel said to her, amused. "Hey, you're the one who's always going on about layin' low.", Tess said to him. "And you always brushed me off.", he retorts back.

Once they enter the subway, they see a couple of dead bodies. "Look at his sleeve. Firefly.", Tess said as she pointed at a dead body with an Firefly armband. "These guys aren't doin' too well in or out of the city. Let's hope there's someone alive to meet us at the drop-off.", Joel said as he picked up the molotov then searched the body, finding a map. "They're from the quarantine zone.", he said.

"See...they're not our guys.", Tess said as they walked along until they heard some clickers and runners.

"Shit. God, we're almost out.", Tess muttered as she looked around.

"Okay, Joel...you take point. I'll watch the rear. Ellie, (Y/N), no matter what, you two stay right on his heels.", Tess orders. The girls nodded, and they wove through the subway, quietly taking out the infected.

"Alright. C'mon.", Joel said to them as he boosts Tess up to the wall at the other end of the room. Tess gets up and drops the ladder for them.

"Let's move.", she said. "You guys are pretty good at this stuff.", (Y/N) says. "It's called luck, and it is gonna run out.", Joel said as they got back on the street.

"Get up there.", Joel said to the girls as the four of them exited the abandoned subway.

"Holy shit. We actually made it." Ellie said, relieved. "Everyone okay?", Joel asked as they get back out onto the streets. "Yes.", Tess said as Ellie and (Y/N) nod.

"Which way we goin', Tess?", Joel asked her after a few moments of silence. "Capitol building's in this direction.", she replied as she points in front of her. They head that way to see a semi truck blocking the street.

"How do we get up over this truck?" Ellie asked as Joel and Tess look around until Joel found a dumpster.

He grabs the dumpster and push it up against the truck, they climb up and over the truck then come upon a garage.

Joel goes over to the chain next to the door and begins to pull it, opening the door, until (Y/N) heard a cry. She snap her attention over his shoulder. 

"Shhh-shh." Tess said to him, clearly having heard the noise as well. "What? I don't hear anything." Joel said once he stopped pulling. 

(Y/N) looked over to see some runners climbing over the truck and coming towards them. "Oh shit."

"Okay, double time." Tess said as Joel said, "Oh, shit...."

"Oh -- they're coming." Ellie as Joel pulls the chain a little faster. "I know!", he said as he finally got the door open just enough for them to crouch through.

"Gross.", (Y/N) says.

"Go. Go. Go!", Tess said as Ellie and (Y/N) crawl through then Tess gets through. Tess holds up the door for Joel and he manages to get inside the garage, just as a runner grabs his ankle, before Tess slams it shut on them.

Joel gets up as all of them stare at the door when the infected started slamming and hit the door. "Oh...you got something on your shoe.", Ellie said and (Y/N) looked down at Joel's foot in disgust. Tess and Joel looks down as well to see a dismembered hand was still attached to Joel's foot. He kicks it off.

"Okay. How do we get out of this place?", Joel asked as he looked around the garage. "Let's find out.", Tess said as they walked around the garage.

"So Marlene thinks you're immune?", Tess asked Ellie. "Well, that's what she believes.", Ellie says.

"Well, how were you bitten, Ellie? I mean you two must've been somewhere you shouldn't have found an infected in the zone.", Tess says.

"Yeah, (Y/N) and I would sneak out. We were in this military boarding school.", Ellie said, not mentioning Riley.

"You two would sneak out?" Tess asked her. "You know, explore the city. We were in the mall when we ran into infected.", (Y/N) says.

"That place is completely off-limits. How the hell did you two get in there?", Tess asked her. Ellie and (Y/N) exchanged a look before she spoke up.

"We...have our ways. Anyways, one of those -- what you guys call runners -- bit me. And that was that.", Ellie said. "I see. Were you two with Marlene when you were bitten?", Tess asked her. "No. We went to her for help afterwards.", (Y/N) says.

"Knowing her, I'm surprised she didn't shoot you.", Tess remarked and (Y/N) lets out a short chuckle. "She almost did. Hope she's alright.", Ellie said.

"Really? Wow.", Ellie whispered in awe as they went to a room that had debris blocking a doorway.

"I told you. She's gonna be fine.", Tess reassured them just as the path leads them to an old building with old artifacts.

"What is this place?", (Y/N) asked as they looked around at the building. "It's an old museum. Some of these things are hundreds of years old.", Tess said as she gestured towards the stuff that had stayed in its display case.

There was a large wood that was sticking out of the debris so Joel go over to the wood and push down on it, using it as a leverage on the fallen debris. Then Tess, Ellie and (Y/N) tried to hurry under it to get to the other room.

But suddenly the debris begins to collapse, separating Joel and (Y/N) from Ellie and Tess.

"Joel!", Tess calls out after him. "I'm alive!" Joel calls out to her. "(Y/N), you okay?", Ellie asks the twin. "I'm fine.", (Y/N) reassured her.

"Guys! Get in here!", Ellie shouted. Tess and Joel ran into the room to see the Runners had a hold of Ellie. (Y/N) ran to kick away the one on her, stomping it's head in.

"We'll make our way around to you.", he tells them just as (Y/N) heard some Clickers. "They're here! Run! Run!", Tess screams and they run as Joel and (Y/N) duck from the Clickers' sight.

 

They made their way around two clickers that just wondered aimlessly around the displays and walked upstairs. Joel had to strangle a runner that blocked the door before they burst inside the room.

Joel grabs the one that attacked Tess and Tess takes care of a few herself.

"That was too damn close.", Joel mutters, then he looks over at Tess. "Tess, how're you holdin' up?", he asked her. "Just a bit winded.", she replied then she pointed to an open window.

"This way. This'll get us to the roof.", she said and she climbed out of it.

"How 'bout you, kids? You two okay?", Joel asked them. "Define okay.", Ellie said. "Are you still breathing?", Joel asked her. "Do small, panicked breaths count?", Ellie asked. "Yeah, they count." Joel replied, nodding.

Joel grabs a long wooden plank and places it between the space between the museum and the rooftop next to it.

"Alright. Then I'm okay.", she says. "Yeah, same here.", (Y/N) said and they climbed out the window and up the old fire escape, until they reached the rooftop.

"There she is. That's our building.", Tess said, pointing at the building, which looked a little closer but they still had at least a couple of hours left of the journey.

"Alright. Now watch your step as you goin' up 'cause it's gonna be a little...", Joel tries to instruct her but Ellie scoffs at his advice and crosses easily.

(Y/N) looked up at Joel apologetically before she follows Ellie.

She stands next to her and see that she is looking at the Capitol while the sun is rising behind it. (Y/N) smiles just as Joel came up next to them.

"Well, is that everything you two hoped for?" He asked them, gesturing towards the Capitol. "Jury's still out.", (Y/N) said, shrugging. "But, man...you can't deny that view.", Ellie admired.

Tess walked up to them, leading them toward the way before noticing Joel's pausing. "C'mon. This way."

Ellie and (Y/N) walk ahead, leaving the two adults behind.

"Hey! Pick it up." (Y/N) heard Tess yell. (Y/N) stands on the platform and step aside as Ellie climbs down the ladder then comes up to her while Tess and Joel are talking.

[nolfanworks]

Moghuul is the Dark Urge

Pain moved through Moghuul’s skull like an early morning wake, rippling from frontal to occipital lobe and back again. This was no mere migraine. His brain felt like it had been pressed for its juices, pulverized into a pulp, and piped back into its case through the brand-new burrow hole of his right eye. He was alive. The pain meant he had survived. But how? The last thing he could remember was falling through purple light.

Moghuul’s eyes opened slowly, squinting in the late morning sun. It blazed down on him in a gentle blanket of warmth accompanied by soft gusts of wind and carried with it the acrid stench of burning nautiloid flesh—a salty, briny cephaloid stench coupled with smoke and tiny flecks of black ash. High above, clouds drifted unbothered through the bright blue sky, high above the jagged broken scaffold that reached out overhead like the broken rib cage in a dragon’s graveyard. It was an astonishingly beautiful day.

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The Son of Murder (5427 words) by Nolf615 Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: The Dark Urge (Baldur's Gate), Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate), Lae'zel (Baldur's Gate), Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Withers (Baldur's Gate), Gale (Baldur's Gate) Additional Tags: Spoilers, Blood and Violence, Gore, Bullying, Location: Faerûn (Dungeons & Dragons), Chosen of Bhaal Dark Urge (Baldur's Gate), Illithids | Mind Flayers (Dungeons & Dragons), Tadpole | Illithid Parasite Powers (Baldur's Gate) Summary: This piece will include spoilers and events featured in Baldur’s Gate III. If you have not played it GO PLAY IT NOW. Moghuul is The Dark Urge. A non-canonical interpretation of them anyways. Moghuul has awoken with no memories, an awful headache, and a brand new cranial companion. He must navigate morality, empathy, and the complexities of love and devotion in order to live long enough to rid himself of the ticking time bomb in his skull…and perhaps save a few of the tag alongs he’s collected. Will he fall to depravity and loose his newfound friends? Will he become a puppet of manipulation? Will he learn what it means to genuinely care for someone or will he let the promise of redemption be sacrificed on the altar of fatherly acceptance? This…whatever it is will feature random events in Moghuul’s journey. Before, during, and after the game. Whatever comes to mind.

[askpinkietai]

The air shimmers around you, and you stand there on the streets of the Gluttony domain, the little blue imp floating in front of you with her arms outstretched, welcoming you to her horrible home. The first thing that hits you is the smell. It literally hits you, the pungent aroma of this domain hangs physically in the air, almost like a fog. It's the sweet smell of rotting fruit mixed with the more foul scent of rotting meat. All this mixes with a heavy presence of grease and deep-fried food. It's inescapable. It's like being in a fast food restaurant with severe health code violations and a landfill at the same time, and there's no exit from either. As mentioned, you're on a street. As you look down it, it seems to be lined with open-air shops and stalls. Large wooden stands offering just about every foodstuff you can imagine. It's not just produce. The nearest to you is an entire large tray filled with gravy, meatballs the size of your fist bobbing and floating in it. Across from it is a booth stuffed with pizzas. Not any shelving or boxes, just dozens of pizzas stacked one on top of the other. You can't even see someone inside manning the booth. Demons walking or floating by don't even look, simply grabbing a slice and stuffing it into their mouth as casually as can be. Other demons are seated at various nearby tables with patchwork umbrellas hanging over them, stuffing themselves with an entire smorgasbord of collected goodies. Behind these stalls are more buildings, ugly monolithing cement and plastic structures. They look slapped together and ramshackle, almost as if they were never intended to be a single structure. Several have large support beams just to keep them propped up against another. Haphazard staircases, ledges, walkways, and scaffolding run through them, linking the various large open windows together. Upon further inspection, they're service windows. Massive quantities of food are passed through them, one direction or another. Bright neon lights in red and yellow line the place, and colourful awnings drape over the windows to try and disguise them as more than simply a hole in a concrete slab. For all the world, the whole place seems like a mad mashup of open-air market, mall food court, and greasy-spoon diner applied to an entire city. Food is everywhere. Not just in the stalls or being handed through the windows. It litters the place. Half-eaten candy bars are scattered down the street, wrappings still on them. Chunks of meat, half-finished sandwiches, and discarded slices of pizza drip from every surface, smeared against the wall or hanging off the awnings. A steady rivulet of grease runs past your feet. Nearby, between a cotton candy stall half-melting from the vapours around it and a booth selling stacks of hamburger patties, is a large outflow pipe. Instead of sewage, a constant flow of molten cheese oozes from it, pouring out into a slow-moving orange waterfall until it drains away into a storm grate below it. Passing demons merely stick their food or even bare hand into it, again with all the casualness of your average pedestrian. All this was expected. What you didn't expect were the flies. They are everywhere, hundreds of thousands of them, hanging in small black clouds over the hazy yellow skyline. Occasionally a small contingent of a dozen or more will break loose and head for the nearest glob of food. This seems to be the only thing that gives the demons pause in their feasting. When a fly lights upon something currently being eaten, the demon neither continues to eat nor shoos the fly away, waiting for it to finish on its own before its meal resumes. This respect and reverence for such filthy pests seems odd until you remember one of Lady Beelzebub's other titles: Lord of the Flies…

[1nm2]

@chaoticjoke

He used to get interviewed on Youtube when he was fuzzy in 360p:

So I run off this thing, and I grab the pipe – I couldn’t make the jump anyways – and just swing. I land on the scaffolding! And when I get to the bottom, I just tumble—every single stair. And when I get to the bottom, I fall, like, faceplant, on the ground. And BOOM! The wind gets knocked out of me. But I still have to fight the crime, right, so I get up, and look at the girl and like, “Hooooo – Stoppppp!” And the guy starts running, like – nothing happened to the girl so that was good, and I just puked.

Knealy does Spotify podcasts now, and he has his own Youtube channel. He’s been here a long time, lonnnnng – since there’s always crime in Gotham. Batman can’t be everywhere, and none of the anonymous guys who’d started showing up in superhero outfits couple of months after him were betting on it. There’s always fights breaking out on the streets. There’s sometimes random tragedies, like the sophomore girl Katie Walker who he’d found dead, bleeding from the neck after hearing gunshots randomly pop right around the corner he was at. No arrests yet, but where was Batman? At the scene? Retroactively?

This here’s a movement so misunderstood. None of his guys, Redpool, Ice Phoenix, El Pájaro de Fuego, Grab Girl, had anything to do with folks running around dressed as bats. He doesn’t have anything to say to them. He only had four rules: you agree that you wear a bulletproof vest when you patrol, don’t carry illegal weapons, don’t do anything against state and federal laws, and you’re over 18 years old. That’s it.   

Knealy’s veins are adrenaline-flushed. His chin’s dampened with sweat, pressed against him by a black burglar’s mask tucked snugly beneath the outer armour piece hugging his skull and a good portion of his head sans the nose, mouth and eyeholes. Pitch black licks his periphery – apart from the Joker through those holes, he can’t see shit. Being more popular, getting more famous, being on random snippets of Gotham News got you more attention than wanted. But this is exactly the kind of violence that needed to be stopped, isn’t it?

‘   Hey -- you don’t want to use that gun. I mean, just look at all of the years of human lives that have been wasted behind bars for doing drugs and beating up their girlfriends when we pay CEOs of tobacco, alcohol, and pharmaceutical companies massive bonuses each year. Compare the amounts of deaths and suffering these people cause to the people selling crack on the streets, and the outcomes they receive. Arms companies, politicians sending our children off to die in pointless wars that they make money from, to the blue-collar guys who were used as drug mules and persecuted as traffickers. That make sense to you, guy? You…-- you have a name?  ‘

[auroras-void]

I organize my hotbar differently depending on what I'm doing, it varies wildly and I'm not super consistent about it but there's usually a reason why I lay things out.

Generally though my most important heuristic is I tend to try to maximize flexible slots and inventory space for building materials and shulker boxes/crates over having lots of regular tools available to me. I keep those in a toolbox of some kind be it an ender chest box or a backpack or a literal toolbox.

For starters even in vanilla I play with tweakeroo so I try to only have one hotbar slot dedicated to tools. Even with that though I generally try to put away extra tools into a shulker box or a backpack.

Weapons come off my hotbar if I'm building something. Food typically goes in offhand. In modded I don't carry torches either because I usually have some sort of alternative way to spawnproof an area that doesn't rely on lighting. Like claimed chunks, megatorch, spawnproof beacon radius, peaceful surface, or no hostiles around campfires. I also usually play with creeper explosions off so sometimes I'll just tolerate having to fish out a weapon whenever a mob shows up, which is pretty infrequent if you spam beds around your workspace and keep extra on you and work on the surface.

What exactly does make it onto my hotbar really depends on the kind of infrastructure I have or the tools in my modpack. If I have some way to increase fist break speed for example tools might come off my hotbar entirely for some tasks. Slot 1 might become a mobility tool, or I might just go full creative hotbar. I also usually will keep some sort of access to storage, be it a wireless terminal or a stack of ender chests.

In modded whatever storage I can bind a hotkey to also usually becomes an extension of my hotbar. How I organize it depends on how it works though. Most common though is definitely a backpack bound to mouse4 that I keep absolutely *loaded* with any tool I could possibly need, by far my favorite way to organize things.

I can keep wiring, redstone, pipes, conduits, cables, shulker boxes, wrenches, hammers, wirecutters, multitools, spellbooks, torches, buckets of water and lava, ice, potions, mana, compasses, clocks, meters, maps, wands, scaffolding, computers, robots, swords, daggers, cutlasses, falchions, claymores, spears, halberds, sponges, lighters, gapples, spare picks, hoes, the one ring to rule them all, wings, rails, carts, railguns, explosives, jetpacks, meme items, nets, leads, gears, shafts, chains, wax, crafting materials, pulleys, grappling hooks, pearls, goggles, scuba gear, space suits, soul sand, magma, kelp, string, spyglasses, rulers, sextants, astrolabes, measuring tape, portal guns, gravity guns, spud guns, regular guns, animal feed, emeralds, beehives, asphalt, liquid concrete, monitors, blood sacrifices, shields, armor, hazmat suits, villager work stations, coal, oil, wizard robes, instruction manuals, severed heads of my enemies, case of loaded firework crossbows, precious jewels, barrels, drums, fluid tanks, cursed artifacts, note blocks, juke boxes, a 12 piece symphony orchestra, chisels, covers, fishing rods, facades, frames, valves, cranks, handles, miniature black holes, saws, server currency, law textbooks, dimensional rifts, bells, doors, arrows, tablets, ammunition, crafting blocks, cannons, chunk overload books, dyes, hard drives, warp drives, tridents bounce pads, medium amethyst crystals, wither skulls, crates, chalk, candles, totems, mud, bundles, half an ikea warehouse worth of furniture, anvils, remotes, cactus, batteries, generators, iron rods, buttons, levers, lamps, knives, myalite, notebooks, pedestals, item frames, debug sticks, barriers, end gateways, firework rockets, space rockets, beacons, missile rockets, slime, honey, ichor, coagulated blood, superglue, nets, cages, drawers, quarries, drills, cranes, planes, trains, automobiles, cutting boards, nuclear launch codes, blueprints, spell slates, fast travel, ladders, vines, rope, fertilizer, bonemeal, *anything* I can think of that I could even maybe possibly need some day I'll carry it there. Like I'm joking about way fewer of these than you'd think lol I'd say I've carried most of these in my backpack at least as a one off, and maybe the majority at least one time regularly before. (try to guess which of the weird ones I'm serious about lol)

Even in vanilla I always keep at least one shulker box that acts as a toolbox that I always fill to the brim.

Really everything is about flexibility.

Out of curiosity, does anyone else organize their Minecraft survival hotbars? This is how mine looks, for example, with slots 1-4 being my sword + tools, slot 5 being my bow, slot 6 being food, slot 7 & 8 being miscellaneous, and slot 9 being for torches. I'm not sure if this is standard, but it's how I've always done it.

[vihvid]

3- Rodrigo Valenzuela

Rodrigo Valenzuela is a well-known photographer and multimedia artist working in Los Angeles. He was born in 1982 in Santiago, Chile. He has a background in sociology and philosophy and his work dives into topics of labor, identity, and social conflict, often including aspects of performance and sculptural combination. Rodrigo currently works as an Assistant Professor and Head of the Photography Department at UCLA, demonstrating his simultaneous dedication to artistic activity and education.

Rodrigo's art includes photography, film, and the installation process with a focus on Latin American modernism and industrial aesthetics. Afterwork is one of his more notable works, creating strange, monochromatic compositions out of studio debris, such as scaffolding, pipes, and cinder blocks. These pieces point out the contradiction between the stability of industrial structures and the passing lives of laborers, using the human absence to create a feeling of isolation and resilience.​ Despite not using any color and just space, he creates almost an abstract photograph that encapsulates you.

Rodrigo's brilliance in visual storytelling has earned him noteworthy awards, including the 2021 Guggenheim Fellowship and the Smithsonian Artist Research Fellowship. His works have even been displayed in venues such as the New Museum in New York, the Frye Art Museum in Seattle, and worldwide galleries, cementing his place as a transformative voice in contemporary art.​

Rodrigo works are brilliant in their own way yet personally they are too meticulously posed rather than a natural photo. Due to most of his pieces being in black and white, it limits his range of the emotions/thoughts he can invoke in you.

References:

https://photographmag.com/reviews/rodrigo-valenzuela-new-works-for-a-post-workers-world-gallery-at-bric-house/

https://www.lightwork.org/archive/rodrigo-valenzuela-american-type/

[meghmanimetal]

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[ukdamo]

Graffiti

Rosanna Warren

Kitty Goes Kommando and the Goldman Rats — Phooey! That blue scaffolding holds up the sky. Who did we think we were padlocking in, or out? Give me that huge looping black script no one can read, a secret glyph, and just where someone has smashed the window, Jesus the Way the Truth the Life and a dented aluminium frame. He bent down, we know, and wrote something illegible on the ground. A toothy black-and-white dinosaur gapes. I like the crack in this wall of monsters where skylines topple and ogres twiddle train tracks in their claws like pipe cleaners. Down the long, semi-abandoned street in Queens calligraphy gallops toward the shop displaying, like guitar strings, seven different iron rods for gates. Hole in the wall, rose sound-hole, ribbed sounding board — always from fissures and gaps melody strains as trains thunderclank across the girdered overpass, a siren keens, and a solitary man ambles past amputated acacias fisting out with leaves.

[sambhavsteel]

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