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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 2 years ago

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COSMIC - S2:E5; Chapter Five, Dig Dug - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘳𝘶𝘯-𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴. “𝘣𝘰𝘣 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯” 𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮.

Warnings: canon racism, long chapter, small mentions of reader's birth mother/parent and is described to look like reader (for the sake of El recognizing her/them)

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

The Byers house had come alive once more. Since Bob's discovery, every able body in the house had gotten their hands on a tape measure and had gotten to solving the next aspect of the puzzle Will had unknowingly left; a map of Hawkins wherein lay an 'x' in dire need of finding.

"Alright," Bob calls out. "I got 2.5 inches. What'd you got?"

"I'm not sure" Mike calls from Joyce's room. "Mrs. Byers?"

"Hold on!" She calls, stretching the measuring tape around the corner.

Unfortunately, they had yet to find the spot where Hopper was. Bob was at the kitchen table, mapping out coordinates while Mike and Joyce measured the distances between marked areas.

"Twenty-one feet, four inches."

"What about Tippecanoe to Danford Creek?" Bob asked.

Joyce's face scrunched up as she thought of where she last saw it.

"Da-Danford, Danford?"

"Dining room!" Will answered excitedly.

Joyce joined him with the measuring tape. She turned to face Bob who was in the other room.

"Sixteen feet, ten inches."

"What about Danford to Jordan?"

Joyce sighed, hurrying across the room to Bob's side.

"That's gotta be enough?"

Bob began sputtering, shaking his head sadly.

"It's not. It's really not."

"Can't you f-figure it out?"

By now, everyone was regrouped around the table. Everyone was watching Bob hopefully. He shrugged.

"Well, it's hard. The ratio isn't exactly one to one. I-I mean, if you're twisting my arm, and you're twisting my arm, I would say the x is" he drew a few lines on the map with his ruler, double-checking his math. "maybe, a half-mile southeast of Danford?"

A beaming smile found its way onto Joyce and she exclaimed happily.

"Thank you!"

She leaned down and planted a big kiss on Bob's cheek, bringing a smile of his own to his lips.

Grabbing the map, she took out of the room, Mike, Will, and a confused Bob behind her.

"What? Are we really going?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Dustin pulls his bike into the Wheeler driveway. Hopefully, Mike was home. And hopefully, he'd have a pretty damn good explanation as to why he wasn't answering his coms! He stood at the front door, repeatedly ringing the doorbell, and waited impatiently. He could have sworn he heard a muffled voice call out.

"Ted, can you get that please?"

When Mr. Wheeler opened the door, Dustin tried to remain as cool and collected as possible though it was difficult. He looked Mr. Wheeler in the eye and spoke carefully.

"Your line has been busy for over two hours, do you realize that?"

With the same unimpressed look painted across the man's face, as it always was, he nodded simply. "I do realize."

"Is Mike home?"

"No."

"No?" Dustin repeated, his composure cracking. "Well, where the hell is he?"

Mr. Wheeler's usual plain and tepid voice raised suddenly as he looked behind him into the house.

"Karen, where's our son?"

"Will's!" Came Mrs. Wheeler's voice from inside.

Mr. Wheeler calmly and disinterestedly looked back at Dustin.

"Will's," he said simply.

Dustin sighed heavily. "No one's picking up there. Nancy, what about Nancy?" He tried.

"Karen, where's Nancy?"

"Ally's!" She answered shortly.

"Ally's," Mr. Wheeler said and he shrugged. "As you can see, our children don't live here anymore. You didn't know that?"

Dustin felt all his hope evaporate as he looked at the dull man.

"Now, are we done here?" He asked pointedly.

Dustin sighed heavily, all efforts to be polite were long gone.

"Son of a bitch, you're really no help at all, you know that?" He said over his shoulder, as he walked away.

Ted called out lazily after the boy, his heart not entirely in the fight.

"Hey, language!"

Dustin had returned to his bike. He picked it up hotly, now feeling completely on edge. His ears perked when he saw a car pull up near the sidewalk. He watched in curiosity until he saw someone unexpected climb out: Steve Harrington. He was lazily carrying a bouquet of roses that hung at his side and he was nervously muttering to himself as he made his way across the lawn.

"Listen, I've been thinking, love you, I'm sorry. 'Sorry', what the hell am I sorry for?"

"Steve!"

Steve was equally surprised to see the Henderson kid eagerly making his way towards himself. He stopped as the kid approached him, and he gestured to the flowers in his hands.

"Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?" Dustin asked.

Steve gave the boy an odd look and shook his head. "No, they're for--"

"--Great," Dustin ripped the bouquet from his unsuspecting hands and headed for Steve's car.

"Hey, what the hell? Hey!"

"Nancy isn't home," Dustin answered simply.

"Well, where is she?"

"Doesn't matter. We have bigger problems than your love life. You still have that bat?"

Steve watched as Dustin opened the passenger side door and looked at him expectantly.

"Bat? What bat?"

"The one with the nails." He replied, obviously.

"Why?"

"I'll explain it on the way."

Dustin climbed into the passenger seat and only then did Steve snap into action. Breaking into a jog, he couldn't help but ask.

"Wh-? Now?"

"Now!"

With that, Dustin closed the car door and watched impatiently as the boy made his way to the front seat.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper groans as he swipes yet another handful of dirt behind him. He stops for another break though he knows he shouldn't. If it hadn't been for his watch, he surely would have lost all sense of time. And all he had managed to show for it was a hole in the wall two feet long that barely fit his torso. An overwhelming sense of defeat blankets the man and he feels himself slide down the wall of dirt and onto the floor.

He could feel the tickle in his lungs grow stronger and he coughed weakly. Despite the tightness in his chest, he does what always brings him false feelings of comfort. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes. In his weakened hazy state, Hopper fails to notice the small but thick tendrils of vines snaking their way towards his legs.

Before he can do anything to stop them, he sees the thick ropes curl around his ankle and he jolts at the sudden contact. He scrambles to his feet in a panic, momentarily losing his balance.

"Son of a bitch!"

He bends down and begins to claw frantically at the vines. Stopping himself before he can waste more time, he searches his pockets until his fingers land on the cool metal of his knife. Quickly, he pulls out the tool, unsheathing the blade, and brings it to the vines that are now up to both his knees. Unfortunately, he is so focused on the vines at his feet, that he fails to notice the one making its way up to his back and around his neck.

Hopper grunts as his back hits the ground, knocking the air out of him. Hardly any time passes for him to be completely ensnared in the sentient undergrowth and his cries for help are quickly smothered and snuffed out, buried underground with him.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"And that was the last we ever saw her. After that, she was just, gone. I can't believe it's been that long, it feels like yesterday." Lucas finishes.

Max nods, a concentrated frown on her face.

"Yeah, I mean, I bet," she says, lifting Lucas's hopes. "Wow,"

Lucas nods, a sense of relief washing over him at how the skeptic was taking it. She had, for the most part, remained silent during his story. She didn't show any effort to hide her confusion but seemed to go along with it.

"It's crazy, I know."

"It's crazy, but," she shrugged. "I really liked it."

It was Lucas's turn to be confused. "You like it?"

"Yeah," she frowned slightly, a tight smile on her face. "Well, I mean, I had a few issues?"

"Issues?"

"I just felt it was a little derivative at some parts."

Lucas was flabbergasted, and his high hopes came crashing down to the ground.

"What are you talking about."

She shrugged simply, tucking her palms in her lap as she looked at him with irritation.

"I just wish it had a little more originality, is all."

Lucas could feel anger bubbling up in his chest. He leaned forward, a frown etched into his brows.

"You don't believe me?"

Max chortled and gave the boy a pathetic glance. Her voice began to rise steadily, her own anger taking over her false intrigue.

"Lucas, come on, seriously? How gullible do you think I am?"

"Why would I make this up?" Lucas shot back.

"I don't know! To impress me, or something? Or, you're just like, insane."

"I tell you all of this," Lucas declares hotly, rising to his feet. "I mean, top-secret stuff, risking my life, and this is how you react?"

Max scoffed, still not allowing herself the possibility of believing what he had told her to hide the small seedling of fear that had burrowed itself inside her. She did as she had learned to survive. Brush it off.

Instead, Max looked at him with an amused expression painted on her face."'Risking your life?'"

The frustration festered inside of Lucas at the girl's unwavering amusement at the traumatic experience. "Oh, so this is funny to you?"

"Yeah, I mean, kinda funny?"

Lucas only glared at her, and a smug smile finds its way onto her face as she rises to her feet.

"Stupid, but funny."

Shrugging him and the properly burrowed feeling of fear off her shoulders, she waltzed towards the door, her board in hand.

"Where are you going?"

She stopped and gave him a passing look. "Story time's over, isn't it?"

Lucas feels the harsh sting of her words and decides he wants to put in a few of his own. As she strides out of the arcade, he stays on her heels.

"What is wrong with you? I gave you what you wanted."

"I wanted to be a part of the group, not a part of some joke."

Her mask of anger had begun to crack, and shining through was genuine hurt. Lucas did his best to convey his seriousness, though at this point he didn't know how much good it would do.

"It's not a joke," he said again slowly.

"You did a good job, okay?" She said, nodding though Lucas could still detect a hint of sadness. "And you can go tell the others that I believed your lies and get your little experience points, or whatever."

Quickly, she turned on her heels, her red hair whipping over her shoulder and he quickly followed, grabbing her arm gently. She turned to look at him shocked, but he quickly released her and spoke softly once more.

"We have a lot of rules in our party, okay? But the most important thing is, friends don't lie. Never, ever, no matter what."

"Is that right?" She said confidence dripping from her words knowing she had caught him. "Then how do you explain this?"

This time, she gestured for him to follow her. They turned the corner and into the isle of games. She swiftly ripped the piece of paper from the screen that read, OUT OF ORDER, and stuck it on Lucas's chest with the remaining bits of tape that resided on the back.

Lucas sighed, ripping the piece of paper off his shoulder and sent her a pleading look.

"I had to do that, to protect you."

Max snapped once more, her anger and her own frustrations getting the best of her.

"Protect me from who, exactly?" Max's voice began to rise in volume. "The big government baddies at Hawkins Lab?" She rested her board against the machine, and she angrily stuffed her hands into her pockets for coins before inserting them into Dig Dug as she yelled at the boy.

As calmly and discreetly as possible, he spoke to her as his eyes darted around the arcade.

"Keep your voice down."

Her demeanor shifted too quickly to that of exaggerated understanding. "Or maybe to protect me from the Demogorgon from another dimension."

"Max, I'm serious, shut up!"

Ignoring him, and his voice still rising, she turned to him, this time speaking with exaggerated excitement.

"No, no, no. I know, it was Y/n and his other superpowered friend, what was it? Eleven-"

Max's eyes widened when Lucas suddenly threw his hands over her mouth. His eyes were pleading and he whispered under his breath, begging her.

"Stop. Talking." He glanced over her shoulder worriedly. "You are going to get us killed. Do you understand?"

Only then did it click for Max when she saw the desperation, the fear, in Lucas's eyes. It was enough to chill her to the bone. She pulled his arm away from her face and looked at him seriously for the first time since he tricked her. Desperately, she searched his eyes. For anything, any sign of humor, any hint that he was putting up an act to convince her. But to her horror, she saw only fear.

"You're serious?"

He stepped back, his voice still low. "I really wish I wasn't."

She quickly recovered, and while she had begun to believe, her skepticism was quickly trying to convince her otherwise. "Prove it."

A defeated look washed over Lucas. He shrugged lightly. "I can't."

"So what? I'm just supposed to trust you?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes."

She shifted on her feet lightly and something clicked.

"Can't Y/n show me his little trick or whatever, just--"

A car engine roared to life outside, cutting her off. She sped to the window and much to her chagrin, it was exactly who she had suspected.

"Shit, I gotta go."

Pulling yet another surprise from her sleeve, she faced Lucas and grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She looked deeply, but briefly, into his eyes, giving him a pleading look of her own. A look begging him to trust her.

"Don't follow me out. Okay?" She whispered gently.

She released his hand and opens the door, heading out. Lucas couldn't stop the words that left his mouth in desperation.

"Do you believe me?"

She never answered, and he watched solemnly as she scurried to the blue Camaro and scrambled inside. Someone pushed past his shoulders trying to get by, the door still cracked open unknowingly giving away his presence to Billy Hargrove.

Max scrambled inside the car, tucking in her feet and her board just before closing the door. Billy, who had his head resting on the headrest and looking out of the window, was seething.

"The hell I tell you?" He growled.

Max gave him an odd look. "I'm not late."

"You know what I'm talking about."

Swallowing her fear, she quickly recovered and masked her face with confusion. "Oh, Lucas?"

Billy scoffed in disgust, his brows furrowed under his sunglasses as his anger rose. "So he has a name now, huh?"

She cursed herself for stammering, knowing he would pick up on it but prayed he didn't.

"It's a small town, okay? We weren't hanging out." She assures him.

Billy shrugs lightly, and his voice lowered. "Hmm. Well, you know what happens when you lie."

Max shook her head.

"I'm not lying."

For the first time in their exchange, Billy looks at Max. His head lazily rolled over to his other shoulder and he searches her face quickly. Thankfully, he seems to buy it and returns his gaze to the road, his left arm still hanging out of the window and the car speeds off. After the car is gone, Lucas deems it safe to exit and he scurries to the parking lot, watching the car disappear.

Worriedly, she looks out the window behind her before quickly looking forward in fear of being caught.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El and Y/n watch patiently in the kitchen as Becky cuts an old towel in two. She holds it up to them, the cloth now the perfect size and shape for a makeshift blindfold. "Like this?"

El nodded, her chin still resting gently on her palm. "Yes."

The three returned to the living room, and Y/n, per El's request, had turned the volume up on the television set so the static echoed throughout the room.

El sat on the carpet, legs folded beneath her as she folded the cloth into a proper blindfold. Becky sat to the left of Y/n, who sat criss-cross just a foot or two away from El, giving her space.

"It's okay if I sit here, right?" Becky asked.

"Yes," El said, securing the blindfold around her eyes.

"And I won't mess it up or anything?"

"No," El answered, growing short.

"Okay." Becky licked her lips nervously, looking longingly toward her sister.

"If you talk to Terry, will you tell her that I love her very much? And that I'm sorry that I didn't believe--"

"Stop talking," El said crossly.

"Okay, sorry," Becky mumbled.

Y/n caught her eye, and he mouthed a 'sorry'. Becky's lips pressed into a firm line, shrugging, implying she didn't take it too seriously. Her attention was mostly concentrated on her sister, and Y/n had begun to feel the same as Becky did. In the aspect that he felt out of place while El communicated with her mother.

"Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow." Terry mumbled, her fingers twitching and lips twitching. "Run. Breathe. Sunflower."

El awoke in the familiar dark landscape, her toes curling slightly in the imaginary water.

Her mother sat before her, just as she looked moments ago in the living room.

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow."

El timidly made the journey forward, growing closer to her mother which each step. She only hoped this would work.

"Three to the right, four to the left. Four fifty. Run."

"Mama?"

"Sunflower. Rainbow."

"Mama, it's me..."

"-four to left. Four fifty."

"...Jane."

Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she did her best to remain calm. Her mother was only feet away, she was upset with herself for being nervous, she had wanted this her whole life. Yet, the closer she got the more nervous she became.

"Breathe. Rainbow."

"I'm here now,"

"Four fifty."

El took the final step, now only inches away from her mother. After the words left her tongue, everything happened quickly. "I'm home."

The women's head snapped in her direction, her eyes boring into El's, desperation clouding them.

"No."

Terry reached for her daughter, her hand snatching El's, startling her. El was jerked forward and before she knew it, she felt her eyes open on the black landscape. Instantly she had been transported further into her mother's mind, but she had yet to figure that out. To her, it felt as if everything was rebooted, like she had only just now woken up in the void and the last few moments hadn't happened.

But she was alone.

"Mama!"

Her wails were interrupted by uneven footsteps scurrying behind her. El whirled around to see a woman in a long orange dress running to the right. Eagerly, she followed and she watched in horror as the woman she now recognized as a younger version of her mother, had begun to slow. She was grasping her very pregnant belly and panting heavily, seemingly trying to catch her breath and continue on. Before she could reach out to her mother -- to try to talk to her -- El found herself watching curiously as her mother looked worriedly over her shoulder.

Her eyes were filled with sorrow and she whimpered, her lip quivering as she tried not to cry. Curiously, El turned to see what her mother was looking at and her eyes widened at the sight. El noticed she was wearing a hospital gown similar to the one she wore back in Hawkins lab. Her [m/b/t] (mother's body type) figure wobbled tiredly across the landscape, heading straight for them. She was panting heavily like she had been running a great distance, and her speed was rapidly decreasing. Behind her, a swarm of angry men in uniform -- bad men, El realized -- hot on her heels.

"Terry!" She cried. "Go! Now! You can still make it! You know where to go-!"

The woman was tackled to the ground, and she wailed in pain. El jumped back in fear even though she wasn't too close. El got a better look at her, and she watched in sorrow and guilt as the woman was grabbed roughly and yanked to her feet. She was dragged away, screaming and kicking, fighting for her life.

"Terry, what are you waiting for?! RUN!"

El watched aghast as the h/c-haired woman was pulled farther and farther away, her screams never ceasing. Unlike anything she had ever seen in the void, she could make out the bad men turning a corner before disappearing around an invisible corner. Before El could make out what happened, a loud bang was heard and the screams stopped. El stumbled back in fear, tears streaming from her eyes. Her ankle caught something and she fell backward into the thin pool of water. She hid her face in her hands, the panic rising in her chest and she realized she was hyperventilating. The sound of her mother's wailing brought her out of her panic, or at least it redirected it.

Her mother had similar tear streaks running down her cheeks and El knew her mother was in the same boat. But her eyes fell to her mother's large stomach and she finally noticed the emerging bloodstains running down her dress. Throughout the whole ordeal, El wondered why her mother didn't take the woman's advice, why did she stop? And where was she telling her mother to go? Millions of questions like these had bounced around her brain as everything unfolded, too caught up in the horror of what just unfolded to try and answer them. But now El knew.

She knew why her mother stopped. She was in pain and she was bleeding a great deal. She scrambled to her feet to help her mother but she did not know what to do.

"Mama? Mama!"

Just as soon, her mother groaned in pain and stumbled to the ground, grasping her stomach. El immediately and tearfully knelt beside her sobbing mother, laying a shaky hand on her mother's arm.

"Mama! Mama!"

The woman wailed, clutching her stomach, completely unfazed by El's presence.

"Oh, my baby!" She cried worriedly.

"What do I do?" El asked frantically. "Mama, what do I do? Help me!"

A familiar voice echoes out, calling out fearfully.

"Terry? Terry!"

"Mama, what do I do? How do I help you?"

"Terry, where were you? Oh, my God!"

El looks up in the direction of the voice, only for everything to blur. El is transported outside, nothing she can identify but she sees the face of the familiar voice. It's Becky, she's younger and she is looking right at El.

"Oh, my God," she sniffles, looking around worriedly. "Okay, breathe. Just breathe, alright? Breathe."

She sees her mother lying on the grass yards away from a house, and now she knows she is not seeing through her own eyes. She is reliving her mother's past.

"They're on their way, okay?"

El sees her mother's hand reach for her bleeding stomach and looks back at Becky.

"They got her. [Y/m/n], they got [Y/m/n]. I have to go, I have to leave! I have to get her out, I h-have to get her out--" Terry wails in agony, clutching her stomach. "She did it. She got... him out... I need to go- AAHH"

Becky shakes her head, reaching out for her as she takes Terry's hand in comfort.

"Terry, no! Just breathe, alright? You need to breathe, I've told you, no one is coming for her, alright?"

"They wanted him, and they're gonna want Jane! Don't make me do this," she wailed, shaking her head.

She lets out another wail of agony and everything begins to fade.

"Terry!"

Everything goes black and the next thing El knows she is being wheeled through a hallway, two nurses looking at her.

"Stay with us, darling. Stay with us."

El sees her mother writhing in pain on the moving bed, clutching her stomach.

Big lights swarm her vision, and she looks around as several people in green clothing and latex gloves stand and move around her. El sees her mother groaning on the table in pain, and slowly a gloved hand brings a mask of some sort to her face.

A set of eyes, all too familiar to El, come into view. The man's face is mostly covered by his mask, but El knows all too well it's the man that tortured her for years. Confirming her suspicions, the man pinches the white mask and pulls it down to his chin revealing Papa's sinister scowl.

Everything goes black once more. It is quiet, and for a moment El thinks the vision is over. But a bright light reveals itself, and the first thing El can identify is a vase of sunflowers.

Her vision plans over to see a tearful Becky. She gives the weakest of smiles and speaks, El can hear the lump in her throat as she is holding back her tears.

"Hey, there."

Her mother stirs awake on the hospital bed. She groans and looks around worriedly.

"Jane? Where's Jane?"

Becky shakes her bowed head, tears clouding her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She croaks, reaching forward and taking her hand. "Honey, she didn't make it. I'm so sorry, Ter, I'm so sorry."

Terry shakes her head, anger and panic rising in her.

"No, I saw her!" She said simply.

Becky shook her head.

"No, no, she wasn't breathing."

"She was crying!"

"No."

"Oh, God." She breathed, the memories swarming back to her. "Becky, it happened. I saw her, an-and he was there! He was there! He had her and-!"

"No," was all Becky could muster, sniffling.

Becky took a deep breath, still shaking her head, unable to meet her sister's eye right away.

"Terry, no, I'm sorry, I wish that were true--"

"--It is! Becky, I'm telling you, I saw it! We have to get her! He took her!"

"Who was there, Terry?" Becky asked, trying to calm her through her own tears.

"He took her!" She said, growing more frantic.

"Terry--" Becky warned.

But Terry had already begun to sit up despite her sister's efforts to keep her in bed.

"No, no, no! Don't take it out! Terry!"

She had ripped the IV out of her arm, and seconds later a nurse came in, holding her down.

"No, no! I need to get her! Becky, I told you!"

"Terry!"

"--I told you this would happen! I need to get her!"

Terry was soon restrained, several members of the hospital staff were pinning her down and El watched as a syringe was plunged into her skin. The scene quickly changed, she could see several papers and file folders strewn all over the floor. She could hear her mother's voice nearby.

"Three to the right. Four to the left." She mumbled.

She sees the dial of the safe click to zero, and her mother opens the safe. Inside, sitting atop several papers and envelopes is a gun. Shakily, her mother picks up the gun, she sighs as she stuffs several bullets inside.

Her mother is now in a car. She takes a deep breath, collecting herself before exiting, purse clutched tightly in her hand. She closes the car door and El sees her mother cross the parking lot to the very building she escaped from. Trailing behind a few similarly dressed women, she blends in effortlessly with them. That is until she was stopped by a security guard.

"Ma'am, can I see your badge?"

Terry stops, taking a deep breath. She turns around, pulling the gun from her bag. She aims it at the man and anybody that tried to approach.

"Stay back. Stay back!"

She sees the guard reach for his gun and she panics, pulling the trigger. The last thing she sees is the guard falling back before everything goes black once more. She can hear alarms blaring, and Terry is now rushing down a hallway, several people in lab coats jumping aside. She hops from door to door, peering inside and asking for her daughter.

"Jane? Jane?"

She looks over her shoulder and that's when she spots it. The rainbow room. A door across the hall with a small rainbow painted on the inside of the doorframe.

Eagerly, she opens the door. Inside, she finds two young girls playing, one of them she knows to be her daughter. She steps forward cautiously, but happily. Each of them give her an off look and she smiles, leaning down to her daughter.

"Jane... No!"

She is pulled away from Jane before she can grab her. She fights and kicks to the best of her ability but the men's hold on her is too powerful. The girls watch curiously as she is dragged away and Terry only fights harder.

"No! No! She's my child! No! She's my child!"

The sight of the tiny rainbow painted on the walls is the last thing in focus as she is dragged far away.

The next thing she sees comes in flashes. Hands struggling and hair whipping around as Terry struggles in the grip of several bad men.

"No! No."

El watches helplessly as her mother is roughly pinned down again once more, several straps fighting around her form. As she struggles, her head falls to the side, and there before her is Papa. Standing still, watching as she is restrained.

Her cries of protest are muffled when they place a rubber mouth guard between her teeth. A pair of gloved hands bring two metal rods to her forehead, Terry becomes increasingly frightened, like she can guess what comes next but El does not.

"Four fifty," Papa says.

One of the men nods, reaching over and setting the dial on a silver and black box. A low hum grows louder as he sets the dial, she can hear it in the rods and she knows what's coming. Terry's muffled screams cry out in protest, but it does not stop the man from flipping the switch. Her mother begins to convulse, her muscles go stiff and she writhes and shakes in pain. Her hands lose grip on the metal poles of handles at her side and she goes limp, tears in her eyes and she pants heavily.

Everything starts over in quick flashes as she stares at the ceiling. All of it, happing in short spurts.

"Terry, what are you waiting for?! RUN!"

BANG.

"Oh, my God! Okay, breathe. They're on their way."

She's wheeled through the hallway.

"Stay with us, darling."

Jane crying.

Her eyes open and El can hear her mother's voice.

"Sunflower"

"He was there!"

Nurses restrain her.

"Three to the right. Four to the left."

She unlocks the safe and shoots the gun.

She sees the room.

"Sunflower."

The dial turns.

"Four fifty."

"RUN!" A gun goes off.

"Breathe." Jane cries.

Flowers at her bedside. "Sunflower."

Gunshot, she approaches the door. "Rainbow."

The dial turns. "Four fifty."

She convulses.

"RUN!"

"Breathe,"

"Three to the right. Four to the left."

"Breathe"

"Sunflower."

"Rainbow"

"Three to the right."

"RUN!"

"Four fifty."

"RUN!"

"Rainbow."

"Three to the right."

"RUN!"

El rips the blindfold off her eyes in panic, her breathing heavy and uneven. As she is brought back to reality she looks up at her mother in her rocking chair. There are tears in her eyes and she is sadly uttering the same words.

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow. Three to the right. Four to the left."

El feels a pair of arms wrap gently around her and she can feel her own shaking, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly. She feels a hand grab hers and she knows it's Y/n. She squeezes his hand for comfort and Y/n gently runs his thumb over the back of her hand, showing his support.

No one says anything for a while, and apart from her mother's mumbling, she sits in silence embracing the support given to her as she tries to calm her racing heart.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"There's nothing. There's nothing here." Mike says worriedly.

Mike, Will, Joyce, and Bob were all packed inside Joyce's Ford Pinto in search of where they believed Hopper's location to be.

Worriedly, Joyce spares a quick glance at Bob who holds the map in his lap. "Are... Are we close?"

"We're in the vicinity," Bob replies.

"What's that mean, the vicinity?" She asked worriedly.

"It means we're close. I don't know. It's not precise." Bob sputters, feeling the guilt and pressure weighing on his chest.

"But we did all that work!" Joyce exclaims, exasperated.

"I told you, the scale ratio is not exactly one-to-one. We needed to take--"

"Turn right!" Will shouts suddenly.

Unbeknownst to the group, Will had closed his eyes. Taking Mike's advice to heart, he took advantage of the information, his now memories, stored in his brain. Quietly, he had sat, his eyes darting back and forth sporadically under his eyelids as he searched the tunnels in his mind.

"What?"

Everyone looked to Will, even Joyce, but she made sure to return her attention to the road.

"I saw him!" Will answered.

"Where?"

Joyce began looking around, squinting around the vicinity and Will felt the panic boiling in his chest. He leans forward urgently, his words turning to a quick panicked shout as he tries to convey his words without missing the turn.

"Not here. In my now-memories"

A knowing gasp falls over Mike and Joyce, while Bob whirls around to look at Will, flabbergasted. "In your what?" Bob asks.

"Turn right!" Will yells again.

Everyone is thrown to the side of the car, Will bumping into Mike, and Bob nearly falling on Joyce as the car violently jerked to the side. A horrible screech filled everyone's ears as the tires flew across the pavement. Everything happened in a matter of seconds as the car took down a sign attached to the wooden fencing, as well as several clumps of hay that temporarily covered the windshield. Before they knew it, they were thrown forward when Joyce slammed on the breaks, stopping only inches away from the back of Hopper's car.

Joyce whirled around to look at Will, then Mike.

"Are you okay?"

Will nodded and she faced the front once more. Everyone was panting heavily still, collecting their breath.

"Superspy," Mike confirmed between breaths.

"What's Jim doing here?" Bob asked, recognizing the car in front of them. "Joyce?"

Ignoring his questions, Joyce returned her attention to the back seat and looked between Will and Mike.

"Boys, I need you to stay here."

Will shook his head frantically as she climbed out of the car.

"No. Mom, Mom, Mom, it's not safe." He called desperately, leaning over to look at her.

"That's why I need you to stay here! Stay here!" She ordered.

Slamming the car door, the boys sat in silence as they felt the car shake slightly. Bob and Joyce trudged across the field, careful not to step on the many rotten pumpkins.

"Hopper!" Joyce's worried and shrill cries echoed across the field and into the night.

Easily spotting the small crater in the dirt, Joyce descended the hole Hopper had dug and Bob followed cautiously. His arms were outstretched after Joyce who held her arms out for balance as her feet slipped across the unstable dirt.

"Hey, be careful." He shook his head, nervously spewing commentary in disbelief. "Just going down the hole."

At the bottom of the pit, a large circle roughly the size of her dining room table had caught her eye. Bridging the gaps over what normally would have been a hole in the ground, was what looked like several worms the size of large snakes. But they weren't, they were a dark purple-pink and they did twist and move, constantly interlacing themselves, seeing themselves together in a big lump, it soon became clear to Joyce what these were. Hopper's last few words to her echoed in her mind.

"Vines." She gasped.

Hesitant to break her gaze away for too long, she gestured to the shovel that stood near Bob's feet.

"Give me that."

"The shovel?"

"Yes, give me the shovel!"

Compliantly, he handed the shovel to Joyce who eagerly grabbed it tight in her hands. With all the strength she could summon, she brought the metal spade down into the vines. They shrieked and hissed. Her contact had hurt several of them. Unfortunately, this came with a splash of dark smelly goo sprayed from the vines and painting Joyce and Bob's clothes.

Cringing, but quickly recovering, Joyce began to repeatedly stab at the small colony. They hissed and squealed once more but one by one they hastily recoiled back into the dirt. Deciding enough room had been made and enough vines were gone, she threw the shovel to the side and whirled around to face Bob, a determined look in her eye.

"I need you to help me get down there." She ordered.

Growing frantic and increasingly worried, Bob hunched over slightly and waved his arms.

"Joyce, what are you talking about?"

"Bob! Now!" She roared, extending her arm.

Joyce gasped in horror when her feet hit the ground, her eyes had adjusted to the dark almost at once, and she was panting heavily at the sight around her. Not allowing herself any more time to waste, she stepped further into the tunnels.

"Hopper!" She called. "Hopper! Hopper!"

Frantically, she looked between the two directions the tunnel stretched in. She didn't know how much time she had, but she knew it wasn't much and she certainly couldn't risk checking each path. She heard a thud behind her, and she turned knowing Bob had descended. Sure enough, she wobbled slightly, catching his balance from the long drop and he collected himself.

"Joyce, what is going on? Where are we?"

Stammering, she reached out to Bob and looked him up and down, making sure he had safely made the drop. "Bob, are you okay?"

Bob's attention was pulled to his surroundings once his eyes had adjusted.

He looked around in amazement and shock.

"Tunnels. Is this Will's map?" He asked.

She had reached into his jacket pocket, knowing he always kept a small flashlight for emergencies.

"Hopper!" She called, scanning the tunnels for any sign of the chief.

"Are we in Will's map?" Bob asked once more.

Biting the bullet and picking a direction, she began navigating the tunnels, calling out for the missing man.

"Hopper! Hopper!"

"We're in Will's map!" Bob mumbled excitedly, following Joyce close behind.

"Hopper!"

"We're actually inside Will's map!"

"Hopper!"

"How did he know all this?"

They both quieted when they reached a fork in the path. Glad Bob had kept his flashlight on him, and glad she had used it, she stepped forward when the light caught a broken cigarette on the ground in front of the left tunnel.

"Bob! Over here!"

She knelt down by the cigarette, she picked it up and showed it to her boyfriend.

"It's his! He's gotta be this way! Come on."

Before he could respond, she took off down the left tunnel, mindful of her steps and the large ridges protruding from the ground. Giving one last uneasy look from where they came, trying his best to memorize the details of the path, he quickly fell back in line after Joyce.

Just outside above the entrance, Mike and Will had exited the car and slowly approached the edge of the crater.

"Do you see anything?" Mike asked. "I mean, in your now-memories?"

Will shook his head, watching the ground uneasily. The sound of several engines captured the boys' attention and they turned around to see several vehicles flood onto the field from where they had come. To his horror, Mike recognized the white vans labeled HAWKINS POWER AND LIGHTING as the very same ones that had chased him and his friends the previous year. It was a fleet from Hawkins Lab. He was suddenly grateful Y/n had left, wherever he was, he would be safe from them. At least, he hoped.

The tunnels below their feet were filled with the echoes of Joyce's cries for Hopper. The pair had reached a cavity in the tunnels, the walls had pooled out into a wide space that Bob silently identified as the x from Will's map. Joyce was much too preoccupied with the task at hand, the beam of the flashlight scouring the ground and she felt her heart leap into her throat when she caught sight of a large arm poking out from underneath a pile of vines. The pile of vines, she realized, had almost completely covered the man.

"Oh! It's his arm!"

She scrambled forward, Bob close on her heels and they collapsed to the ground beside him. Handing the flashlight to Bob, she began clawing at the vines around him, several of them breaking and snapping. Bob pointed the flashlight to Hopper's neck, the man lay fighting consciousness and Bob began tugging with his free hand at the thick stem surrounding his neck.

"It's choking him!"

Joyce redirected her efforts to the vine that struggled to tighten itself around Hopper's neck. Much to their surprise, Hopper spoke in a strained voice. "Knife!"

Joyce looked around desperately for the tool, but Bob was quick to answer. The beam fell across Hopper and next to Joyce. "It's over there!"

Sure enough, just inches away from Hopper's grasp, was the man's pocket knife.

Quickly, she got to work and it wasn't long until the vine around his neck snapped, Hopper gasped for air, and looked to his hands.

"Hands!"

Joyce cut his arms free next and he was able to fight back. He took the knife from Joyce's hands, cutting himself loose from the tendrils surrounding his chest while Bob and Joyce continued clawing at the remaining restraints. Finally, Hopper broke free with a maddened cry.

"Bastard!"

He sat up, swiping the blade across the restraints on his ankles, once more the goo erupted from the screeching vines, by now he was covered in it but he didn't give two shits. Bob and Joyce helped the man to his feet and Joyce hurriedly checked him for injuries, and she took his face between her trembling hands.

"Oh, my God. Hopper, are you okay?" She panted.

"Joyce."

"Are you okay? Are you okay?"

Hopper nodded, patting her on the arms gently and she released him. He swung his arm behind him and patted the man beside him.

"Hey, Bob."

"Hey, Jim."

The trio huddled together, backing away from the advancing vines. Joyce turned and jumped in fear when she saw a figure next to Bob, dressed in a hazmat suit.

"Oh, my God!"

"Go! Go! Go! Clear the area!" The figure ordered.

The trio did not hesitate to evacuate, heading back through the tunnel each of them had ventured. When the three were out of range, the figure, who had been properly equipped, aimed his device and a violent spurt of fire erupted from the end. The vines writhed and shrieked violently as they shriveled up.

At that exact moment, Will -- who had been waiting worriedly outside as the army of men surrounded and descended after his mother and Bob -- collapsed to the ground. Mike dropped to the ground quickly after him, grasping his friend trying to get him to calm. But it was no use. Will was now lying on the grass, his entire body felt like it was on fire. His vision was as white as the white-hot searing pain running through his veins.

"Will, what's wrong?" Mike wailed, feeling helpless.

Will convulsed uncontrollably, his limbs on fire, spreading as rapidly as the flames in the hub below. As the vines screamed in agony, Will screamed too. He was now on his back, screaming violently into the night. Mike jumped back startled, watching helplessly in horror as his best friend writhed in the grass, his mouth wide open and his eyes rolled back into his head as shrieked in agony.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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hustedpugh0-blog · 6 years ago

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Flooring & Mats

Professional-grade weightlifting racks and also cages aid you securely and also efficiently tackle squats, inclines, decreases and also military presses-plus a lot a lot more. Lynch has actually been seen putting on the mask throughout pregame warmups, which, Danford says, allows the Seahawks star to really stretch out his lung capability for the short-term. The eight-division champion told The Times that he intends to hone his focus for his Might 2 showdown versus Floyd Mayweather Jr. by removing workout interviews with press reporters up until his April 15 media day. His life transformed when, aged 7, he was taken on by a gymnastics club in Manhattan who supplied assistance to kids from deprived histories. Rated 5 from 5 by ATPcombustion from Best Cost effective House Health club I've valued numerous sites and Academy had a lower cost for this version. Entirely, rowers typically undertake 2 or more sessions a day, hence making sure optimal fuelling & recuperation are a high top priority throughout a training week. This, obviously, had not been even REMOTELY the greatest news of the day Riley Cooper took care of that, unfortunately. Tucker Hibbert wear for the first practice as Kirk Hibbert as well as Steve Houle speak about the day ahead. Run like you were suggested to in Nike ® Free footwear These inconspicuous, ultra-lightweight footwears advertise the all-natural technicians of your run, helping you go the additional distance. Whether you have actually taken part in the past or simply have an eager rate of interest in developing ability, coaching possibilities are readily available with British Gymnastics. The absence of a routine training facility was likewise a problem for the ladies's squad in 2011, when it made an unsatisfactory very early departure from the Globe Cup after training in Italy. Tonight we get to cast a critical eye over Arnie in his very first 'proper' video game - an affordable video game with a seed to play for, close enough to the full first string offered and also the real life problems of an unknown resistance - let's see if could do something incredible before composing him off. Abbie is 10 and also half and she's been doing acrobatic acrobatics and also roll at the East Kilbride Gymnastics Club for the last 2 and a half years as well as she has well as well as really captured the pest. Fans scooped up all 4,000 complimentary on-line tickets for the other day's practice, and the following 5, as well as all 25,000 seats for next weekend's Family Day skirmish in Akron. In this video clip, health and fitness instructor Jill Rodriguez shows foam rolling strategies for your whole body. Yet unless they continue educating to overload those muscles throughout the period, the toughness standard reduces, and currently those muscles begin to break down as the work increases. Cardiovascular workout will certainly lantern calories, but resistance training is a large part of the equation if you intend to burn fat. Below's a rundown of just what to try to find in a fitness watch, and how each kind could aid you enter into the very best shape quicker. Going to the gym a couple of times a week for a hr just isn't going to counteract hours upon hours of chronic undisturbed sitting, which essentially resembles a microgravity scenario, i.e. you're not applying your body against gravity. Nevertheless, Bournemouth midfielder Harry Arter is also a doubt for the Euros after hopping from training with a thought upper leg issue. Because of the physical effort they put right into obtaining via their day, this could be useful as some people with dyspraxia get extremely weary towards the end of the day or week. With http://invaloaredecumparare.com/long-strong-android-este-un-supliment-alimentar-pret-comentarii-consecintele/ , resistance tubes look like the ideal training tool ... besides a slight issue: If utilizing elastics and one end is dealt with, it develops resistance patterns that do not ideally match the torque-joint angle curves of your body because the bands increase resistance relatively linearly throughout the range. This is particularly vital if the time in between extended training sessions is much less than 8 humans resources.. The lengthy kilometres and hrs of training undertaken by elite bikers asks for a high-energy diet plan - high in protein, minerals and vitamins, as well as high in carbohydrate for muscle fuel shops. In longer aerobic training collections with marginal or no breaks in training, camel hydration packs may provide a practical service in assisting athletes to fulfill their hourly sweat losses throughout training. During the competitive season, elite groups will normally have 1-3 training sessions daily. Stay on top of your exercise goals with the Sunny Health and wellness & Health and fitness SF-B1411 Folding Upright Stationary bicycle. The Indians participated in 3 events on the opening day of the swimming competitions at the Munhak Park Tae-hwan Aquatics Center. This workout regimen could easily be included in my Optimal Physical fitness high-intensity interval training (HIIT). One possible plan for the training complicated is to utilize it as component of a fairway. Please people, why in paradise name would certainly you assume he hired this person to give his football gamers SEAL training. Under individual fitness prepares given by strength as well as conditioning instructor Paul Goodman, Hjalmarsson and also the other Hawks prepared themselves for the season and also the physical fitness screening that preceded it. The testing consisted of various workout stations, two calling for riding the bike, leaping as well as wheelchair exercises among other workouts. Lots of people stay even more constant with interval training due to the fact that you can regulate the environment and also the variables (rate and incline), which could be very helpful. Indian rowers qualified for the final round in men's 8 occasion after they ended up second in the heats on the 2nd day of competitors. The old-timers mention their forefathers, posters on the health club wall, as well as rattle off the names as their eyes go glassy. As he did when in charge of the Rangers, Tortorella sent out a letter to Canucks gamers specificing exactly what health and fitness screening would resemble, and also toughness fitness instructors sent out videos of what it resembled.

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pkstudiosindia · 4 years ago

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How social media reacted to President Donald Trump counting money before donating to church – The Indian Express

By: Trends Desk | New Delhi | Updated: October 20, 2020 7:20:46 am

Many began to think about what Trump was pondering whereas gifting away the money and got here up with hilarious captions.

Before the ultimate presidential debate, US President Donald Trump attended a service on the International Church of Las Vegas, however a photograph from the occasion acquired loads of consideration on social media.

The president, who hardly ever goes to church however has remained in style amongst evangelical Christians for his opposition to abortion and for appointing conservative judges, attended the indoor occasion filled with individuals, and was seen as soon as once more with out a masks.

Trump, who worshipped with just a few White House staffers together with Hope Hicks and Kayleigh McEnany, put a wad of $20 payments within the donation bucket marked “Change 4 Change.”

However, before making the donation, he was captured counting the payments whereas sitting on a chair on the rostrum. Reuters photographer Carlos Barria’s picture of the US president was quickly broadly shared on social media.

Trump, who was in Nevada on a marketing campaign journey to the essential battleground state that he narrowly misplaced to Democrats in 2016, attended the mass service before a marketing campaign occasion in Carson City. Pastor Paul Marc Goulet of the nondenominational International Church of Las Vegas hailed the president “because you just came to church,” the Las Vegas Review reported.

“This is your third time here, that means you’re a church member. I don’t care what anybody says. I love my president,” Goulet added. Trump was heard saying it was “a great honor” to attend the service, including “I love going to churches” and urging parishioners to “get out there on November 3 or sooner” to vote.

youtube

Here’s how individuals reacted to the picture:

He will rely that as an expense to the marketing campaign. Thinking about how to do sleight of hand. pic.twitter.com/04ZvcfXUPv

— Georgene Redmann (@gmredmann) October 18, 2020

Thinking onerous on whether or not to give $20 or $40

— Bitch on Wheels (@norwickdrive) October 18, 2020

Love a supposed billionaire who drops a $20 within the assortment plate, then asks for change.

— Natalie Danford (@NatalieDanford) October 18, 2020

A “billionaire” who can solely donate $20. Such charity. Wow!

— Liberal Wombat in TX (@LiberalWombat) October 18, 2020

Of course he’s counting, he wants to declare the quantity on his taxes.

— F O (@frankovi2) October 18, 2020

“I’m usually golfing at this time on Sundays. Hopefully I don’t have to do this too many more times….”

— David Scott (@ScottRulebook19) October 18, 2020

Probably Monopoly money

— Ashlie Weeks (@ashlie_weeks) October 18, 2020

He’s pondering,…..with my losses they need to be giving me money

— Lawrence Connolly (@LawrenceConnol2) October 18, 2020

“I know they gave this to me to put in the collection plate, but I really want to use it on hamberders ☹”

— Pin Young (@PinYoungActress) October 18, 2020

“I really don’t think these two tens I grabbed from the collection plate will help. But, what the hell…”

— Andrea Fed #BidenHarris2020Landslide 🌈 (@andreafed) October 18, 2020

“This year I want a new bike, a bag of adderall & the ability to fly.”

— PM (@therealpeterm) October 18, 2020

“One less happy meal. Dang it.”

— Derek Fournier *WEAR A MASK* (@fournier422) October 19, 2020

$20.00 bucks or 10.00, &it’s in all probability money he had printed out simply so he might put his image on it…🤭🤣 https://t.co/5WilQ6tv8c

— Lori (@Lori51051723) October 18, 2020

The battle to half with it’s actual. https://t.co/f14NspKEkL

— Raise Things (@RaiseThings) October 18, 2020

One of the church’s pastors, Denise Goulet advised Trump from the stage that God had advised her he would win the 2020 election, Reuters reported.

📣 The Indian Express is now on Telegram. Click right here to be a part of our channel (@indianexpress) and keep up to date with the most recent headlines

For all the most recent Trending News, obtain Indian Express App.

The post How social media reacted to President Donald Trump counting money before donating to church – The Indian Express appeared first on Pet Food India.

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wallpaperpainter · 4 years ago

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Waterfall Landscape Painting Will Be A Thing Of The Past And Here’s Why | Waterfall Landscape Painting

Western Mass waterfalls

Shayna Seymour takes a aback alley circuit through the acropolis towns west of North Hampton to Chapel Falls. After, she motors out to North Adams, home to the Hudson Brook Chasm.

Updated: 8:10 PM EDT Jun 8, 2020

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CHAPEL FALLS. THAT’S WHE WE MEET AN ARTIST CATCHING WAVES. >> NEXT UP ON OUR WATERFALL ROAD TRIP, DESTINATION, THE VILLAGE OF ASHFIELD. HOME OF CHAPEL FALLS. >> CHAPEL FALLS, ANOTHER PROPERTY IS A COLLECTION OF THREE DROPS TOTALING 45 FEET. >> THIS ONE IS BEAUTIFUL. IT’S THE FIRST TIME I’M HERE. >> HERE WE RUN INTO THE FINE ART LANDSCAPE OFFER. LIKE MANY PHOTOGRAPHER BEFORE HIM HE’S BEEN SEDUCED BY THE POETRY OF MOTIO HE FINDS IN WATERFALLS. >> I PREFER A LONG EXPOSURE, SILK WATER EFFECTS THAT MAKES IT MORE CALMING, PLEASING, MORE MYSTICAL. >> HE SAYS ONE DOESN’T NEED A SUPER FANCY CAMERA TO CREATE BEAUTIFUL WATERFALL SHOTS. >> PERSONALLY, I TOOK SOME GREAT PICTURES WITH A POINT AND SHOOT WHEN I STARTED OUT. >> AND ALTHOUGH SUNSHINE CAN MAKE FOR SOME INTERESTING LIGHT EFFECTS, OVERCAST SKIES ARE A BETTER BET FOR MAKING QUALITY SHOTS. >> IT’S A TOSS-UP IN. REALITY, YOU JUST WANT T GET OUT AND TAKE PICTURES. >> MANY A WATERFALL WARRIOR WILL MAKE WEEKEND OF IT. OF COURSE, BACKCOUNTRY ISN’T EXACTLY HOTEL CENTER. FOR AN INTRIGUING OPTION, AVAILABLE IF THEY KEEP AN OPEN MIND. >> WE BECOME A DESTINATION. WE’RE NOT A STOP ON THE WAY. THEY ARE COMING HERE TO GO HERE. >> THE HOUSE, TOTALLY SCREENED IN, NO ELECTRICITY, WITH A BATHROOM,

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rachelstransformingmaterials · 5 years ago

Video

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r o s e d a n f o r d - p h i l l i p s - research report

Fashion designer Rose Danford-Phillips was born and raised into an artistic and green thumb gardening family, influencing her path that lead her to creating her own artwork, applying this silk onto silks, cottons and velvets and creating garments for the modern-day woman (Rose Danford-Phillips 2020).

‘Contemporary womenswear designer Rose Danford-Phillips creates bold, painterly garments and accessories inspired by nature, for striking women with artistic flair and an appreciation for luxury’ (Rose Danford-Phillips 2020, para.1).

Rose’ designs represent nature in personal, truthful way that expresses a beautiful exotic movement of colour and complexity. Rose is inspired by her emotional reaction and expresses that by colliding fashion and art together. Her collage of prints are the base of each collection she creates. Her paintings reference 16th century flower and portrait paintings, along with 18th century scientific botanical paintings and merge these subjects in with her own abstract paintings that creates these bold pieces of artwork which the garments are the canvas for (Rose Danford-Phillips 2020).

Her recent Spring Summer 2020 collection called ‘Kiss of the earth is inspired by the wild, sublime energy of nature in spring and summer. Among the artistic inspirations of this collection are Stravinsky’s ‘the rite of spring’, Hilma Af Klint’s ‘The 10 Largest’, Rachel Ruysch (the female 17th century dutch flowers painter), and circle by Madeline Miller – all examples which inspired rose to examine the spiritual and emotional aspects of nature, and their connection to women’ (Not Just A Label 2020, para.1).

The following video showcases images of her recent catwalk show displaying her 2020 SS collection Kiss Of The Earth.

r e f e r e n c e s

https://rosedanfordphillips.com/collections%20

https://www.notjustalabel.com/collection/rosedanfordphillips/kiss-earth-ss2020-catwalk

i m a g e r e f e r e n c e s

Image 1 Not Just A Label, 2020, photograph, look 1, accessed March 2020, <https://www.notjustalabel.com/collection/rosedanfordphillips/kiss-earth-ss2020-catwalk>

Image 2 Rose Danford-Phillips, 2020, photograph, look 2, accessed March 2020, <https://rosedanfordphillips.com/collections>

Image 3 Not Just A Label, 2020, photograph, look 3, accessed March 2020, <https://www.notjustalabel.com/collection/rosedanfordphillips/kiss-earth-ss2020-catwalk>

Image 4 Not Just A Label, 2020, photograph, look 4, accessed March 2020, <https://www.notjustalabel.com/collection/rosedanfordphillips/kiss-earth-ss2020-catwalk>

Image 5 Not Just A Label, 2020, photograph, look 5, accessed March 2020, <https://www.notjustalabel.com/collection/rosedanfordphillips/kiss-earth-ss2020-catwalk>

Image 6 Rose Danford-Phillips, 2020, photograph, look 6, look 2, accessed March 2020, <https://rosedanfordphillips.com/collections>

Image 7 Rose Danford-Phillips, 2020, photograph, look 7, accessed March 2020, <https://rosedanfordphillips.com/collections>

Image 8 Rose Danford-Phillips, 2020, photograph, look 8, accessed March 2020, <https://rosedanfordphillips.com/collections>

Image 9 Rose Danford-Phillips, 2020, photograph, look 9, accessed March 2020, <https://rosedanfordphillips.com/collections>

Image 10 Rose Danford-Phillips, 2020, photograph, look 10, accessed March 2020, <https://rosedanfordphillips.com/collections>

Image 11 Rose Danford-Phillips, 2020, photograph, look 11, accessed March 2020, <https://rosedanfordphillips.com/collections>

Image 12 Not Just A Label, 2020, photograph, look 12, accessed March 2020, <https://www.notjustalabel.com/collection/rosedanfordphillips/kiss-earth-ss2020-catwalk>

Image 13 Not Just A Label, 2020, photograph, look 13, accessed March 2020, <https://www.notjustalabel.com/collection/rosedanfordphillips/kiss-earth-ss2020-catwalk>

Image 14 Not Just A Label, 2020, photograph, look 14, accessed March 2020, <https://www.notjustalabel.com/collection/rosedanfordphillips/kiss-earth-ss2020-catwalk>

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thebridgeofdeaths · 6 years ago

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Done for at the Danford: An art museum mystery

Museum curator Robin Grinling, in her new position in the small Danford museum, prepares to exhibit a collection of long-hidden still life paintings recently inherited by young deb Slinky Chase. When Slinky is murdered, Robin suspects something in the innocent-seeming paintings is the cause. But Slinky isn’t the only one to die. As Robin uses her research skills to interpret the paintings, she…

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theattainer · 6 years ago

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THE BOOKS THAT MADE DRACULA

http://www.londonlibrary.co.uk/images/CHARLOTTE/warewolves.jpg

http://theattainer.com/the-books-that-made-dracula/

THE BOOKS THAT MADE DRACULA

The London Library today unveiled a fascinating discovery that sheds new light on how Dracula was researched and written. We’ve found 26 books that are almost certainly the original copies that Bram Stoker used to help research his enduring classic.

Philip Spedding, the Library’s Development Director who made the discovery, commented: “Bram Stoker was a member of The London Library but until now we have had no indication whether or how he used our collection. Today’s discovery changes that and we can establish beyond reasonable doubt that numerous books still on our shelves are the very copies that he was using to help write and research his masterpiece.”

Philip’s detective trail began with the collection of Stoker’s handwritten and typed notes that had been discovered in 1913 but only published in facsimile form in 2008*. The notes list a wide range of Stoker’s sources for Dracula and include hundreds of references to individual lines and phrases that he considered relevant. A recent trawl of our shelves has revealed that the Library has original copies of 25 of these books, carrying detailed markings that closely match Stoker’s notebook references.

The markings range from crosses and underlinings against relevant paragraphs, to page turnings on key pages, to instructions to have someone copy entire sections into his typewritten notes.

Some of the most heavily marked books include Sabine Baring-Gould’s “Book of Were-Wolves” and Thomas Browne’s “Necromancy – Divination of the Dead”. But the range of titles also sheds light on the detail of Stoker’s geographical and historical research – for example, AF Crosse’s “Round About the Carpathians” and Charles’ Boner’s “Transylvania”.

The suggestion that Stoker was using the Library heavily is given added weight by the timing of his seven-year membership which coincides almost exactly with the period when he was working on Dracula and beginning to develop an active writing career alongside his already very successful role as theatre manager at The Lyceum Theatre. Earlier research by our Archive Librarian Helen O’Neill showed that he joined in 1890, the year he visited Whitby and first developed the idea for his vampire story, and he finally left the Library in 1897, the year Dracula was published. His membership form is seconded by his close friend Henry Hall Caine, a bestselling author of the day, a London Library member, and the man to whom Stoker dedicated Dracula, using Hall Caine’s nickname “Hommy-Beg”.

Philip Spedding continued, “It is almost certain that the books we have found have been marked up by Bram Stoker himself and that he drew heavily on The London Library’s collection to help research Dracula. Indeed, it is not fanciful to suggest that his extraordinary tale of the Transylvanian undead has many of its origins in the quiet confines of St. James’s Square.”

Professor Nick Groom from Exeter University and a leading expert on gothic literature said, “This is a very exciting discovery. I have examined the books and their annotations with Philip Spedding and have compared them with Bram Stoker’s own notes. I am in no doubt that Bram Stoker used these very copies for Dracula – a book that took him seven years to write. They demonstrate that The London Library was the crucible of one of the most influential novels in world history.”

Philip Marshall, Director of The London Library concluded: “Bram Stoker followed the same path that many writers have pursued before and since – using the Library to transition into a serious writing career, and drawing heavily on the Library’s collection to seek inspiration and ideas for his masterpiece. With the Library’s incredible list of members past and present, some of the most famous characters in fiction must have been developed here – with today’s discovery we can feel sure that Dracula was one of them. We hope that many aspiring writers will follow Bram Stoker’s example and use The London Library as a source of inspiration and support when creating their own masterpieces.”

Watch the video as Philip Spedding tells the story behind an amazing discovery, alternatively view it here.

vimeo

—

CREATION THEATRE DRACULA PERFORMANCE

Following the discovery that the Library’s collection is intimately connection with the creation ofDracula, we’re proud to announce that in February 2019 we will be hosting 18 performances of Creation Theatre’s acclaimed theatre production of “Dracula”. Tickets are on sale.

BUY TICKETS HERE.

Creation Theatre have established a growing reputation for their innovative theatrical adaptions of famous books with performances taking place in dramatic and unexpected locations. “Dracula” features just two actors and draws on innovative audio-visual design to tell the story of Bram Stoker’s great creation.

18 performances will take place in The London Library Reading Room from 7.00pm on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday evenings between 1st February and 2nd March 2019 (1st and 2nd Feb are Previews).

Tickets are on sale now at £28 for London Library members and £32 for non-members and £15 for Preview tickets.

—

BOOKS REFERENCED IN BRAM STOKER’S NOTEBOOKS THAT ARE STILL ON THE LIBRARY’S SHELVES

Nineteenth Century XVIII, Mme Emily de Laszowka Gerard, Kegan Paul, Trench & Co, July 1885

The Book of Were-Wolves, Sabine Baring-Gould, Smith, Elder and Co, 1865

Magyarland, Nina Elizabeth Mazuchelli, Sampson Low, Marston, Searle & Rivington, 1881

The Golden Chersonese, Isabella Bird, John Murray, 1883

Round about the Carpathians, AF Crosse, Blackwoods, 1878

On the Track of Crescent, Major EC Johnson, Hurst & Blackett, 1885

Transylvania: Its Products and Its People, Charles Boner, Longman, Green, Reader & Dyer, 1865

An Account of the Principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia, William Wilkinson, Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme & Brown, 1820

Curious Myths of the Middle Ages (2 vol), Sabine Baring-Gould, Rivington, 1868

Germany Past and Present (2 vol), Sabine Baring-Gould, C Kegan Paul & Co, 1879

Legends & Superstitions of the Sea, Bassett

The Origin of Primitive Superstitions, Dorman, Lippincott, 1881

Credulities Past & Present, W Jones, Chatto & Windus, 1880

The Folk-Tales of The Magyars, The Rev W Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, The Folk-Lore Society, 1889

Superstition & Force, HC Lea, Lea Brothers & Co, 1892

Sea Fables Explained, Henry Lee, William Cloves & Sons, 1883

Anecdotes of the Habits and Instincts of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes, Mrs R Lee, Grant & Griffith, 1853

The Other World; or, Glimpses of the Supernatural. Being Facts, Records, and Traditions, FG Lee, Henry S King & Co, 1875

Letters on the Truths Contained in Popular Superstitions, Herbert Mayo, Blackwood, 1849

The Devil: His Origin, Greatness and Decadence, Rev Albert Réville, Williams & Norgate, 1871

A Tarantasse Journey through Eastern Russia in the Autumn of 1856, W Spottiswode, Longman, Brown, Green, Longmans & Roberts

Miscellany, W Spottiswode

Traité des Superstitions qui Regardent les Sacraments (4 vol), Jean-Baptiste Thiers, Louis Chambeau, 1777

The Phantom World: or, The Philosophy of Spirits, Apparitions &c. (2 vol), Augustin Calmet, Richard Bentley, 1850

The Land Beyond the Forest (2 vol), E Gerard, William Blackwood & Sons, 1888

Other books on the Library’s shelves not referenced in Stoker’s notebooks but containing comparable marginalia

On the Truths Contained in Popular Superstitions with an Account of Mesmerism, H Mayo, William Blackwood & Sons, 1851

La Magie et L’Astrologie dans L’Antiquité at au Moyen Age, Didier et Cie, 1860

Anecdotes of the Habits and Instincts of Animals, Mrs R Lee, Grant & Griffith, 1852

Narratives of Sorcery and Magic (2 vol), Thomas Wright, Richard Bentley, 1851

Things not Generally Known. Popular Errors Explained, John Timbs, Kent & Co, 1858

Roumania Past and Present, James Samuelson, Longmans, Green & Co, 1882

Books referenced in Bram Stoker’s notebooks no longer on the Library’s shelves

A Glossary of Words used in the Neighbourhood of Whitby, FK Robinson

The Natural & Supernatural of Man, John Jones,

History & Mystery of Previous Stones, W Jones

Superstition Connected with Hist & Medicine

Books referenced in Bram Stoker’s notebooks never held by the Library

Fishery Barometer Manual, Robert Scott

The Theory of Dreams (2 vol), FC & J Rivington, St. Pauls Churchyard, 1808

Sea Monsters Unmasked, Henry Lee

A report in IBIS on “The Birds of Translyvania”, Danford and Brown

* ‘Bram Stoker’s Notes For Dracula’ was published in 2008 in a facsimile edition annotated and transcribed by Robert Eighteen-Bisang and Elizabeth Miller

What do you think?

#All #Books

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thexoticorner · 7 years ago

Photo

Couture by ROSE DANFORD-PHILLIPS

Bag KENZO

Tea Service by MISOGYNE Alice Collection

#ROSE DANFORD-PHILLIPS #KENZO #MISOGYNE

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miriadonline · 7 years ago

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CONF: New Voices: Art and Movement (Birmingham, 11 Jan 18)

University of Birmingham, Birmingham B15 2TT, January 11, 2018 Registration deadline: Jan 8, 2018

New Voices is the Association for Art History’s annual one-day event that showcases new postgraduate research about art, art history and visual culture. Our next New Voices event will focus on Art and Movement. It will also mark 20 years of New Voices events.

Programme

9.00- 9:30 Registration

9:30-9:40 Welcome

9:40-11:05 Session 1: Institutions and Interpretations

Isabel Alexander ‘”Freed from their contexts?” Reflections on a Pitt Rivers acquisition’

Rachael Smith ‘The implications of the German Cultural Property Act on contemporary paintings with relation to the term “nationally significant”‘

Kitty Whittell ‘Simulated Slow Down, Movement in Virtual Space’

11:10-11:50 Visit to the Danford Collection

11:50-12:45 Lunch break (delegates need to arrange their own lunch)

12:45-14:00 Session 2: Mobility and Medium

Jeff Richmond-Moll ‘A Walk on the Wayside: John Singer Sargent’s Tyrolean Sojourn’

Mollie Arbuthnot ‘Russian Modernism on the Silk Road: Poster Art in Soviet Uzbekistan 1920-40’

Katherine Doniak ‘Searchin’ for America: Bas Jan Ader’s In Search of the Miraculous’

14:00- 14:15 Refreshments

14:15- 15:30 Session 3: Dislocations: art across time and space

Gabriella Nugent ‘Transnational Extractions: The Aesthetics of Movement in Sammy Baloji’s M��moire (2006)’

Naomi Daw ‘”Delighted experience and unforgettable impressions”: F. Frith and Co.’s photographs of Rome and armchair travel in the nineteenth century’

Roberta Minnucci ‘Classical antiquity in Arte Povera: the peregrinations of a fragmented cultural memory and its artefacts’

15:30- 16:30 Keynote Khadija von Zinnenburg Carroll ‘Moving or Migrant? Art in the Immigration Detention Archive’

16:30-17:00 Visit the Barber Institute of Fine Art

17:00-18:00 Drinks reception at Barber Institute

This event is affiliated with a related conference at the University of Birmingham called ‘Art on the Move – Mobility in the Long Nineteenth Century’, which will take place over the two days following New Voices (12 and 13 January). Attendees and participants to New Voices are encouraged to attend (although please note that they are separate events and admission is charged separately). For more information please see: https://artonthemove19.wordpress.com/

Tickets and Booking: Standard ticket: £15 Member ticket: £10

For more information plus tickets and booking please see: http://www.forarthistory.org.uk/events/art-and-movement/

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hellobcavello · 7 years ago

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CodeScribe: Science Hack Day project 2017

Background

On the weekend of October 14th & 15th, 2017, I joined 250 creative and scientific folks at Github HQ for the 8th annual Science Hack Day. It was an extraordinary experience. Not only was this volunteer-organized and -run event exceptionally enjoyable, it was also a masterclass in inclusive event design. Massive thank you to Ariel Waldman and everyone on the Science Hack Day team!

See the results and findings from this hack: goo.gl/9f3gUA You can find a copy of the code survey here: goo.gl/forms/YdcLBmwADQepxLU42 See the data for yourself: goo.gl/JDvZe7

The Birth of CodeScribe

On day one of the event, I addressed the group to propose an idea: a reading comprehension approach to learning code. The idea had come to me only days earlier when I was expressing my frustration at coding education tools. Although there are many freely available online, I’ve never managed to follow through to completion on any of their lessons. “I don’t want to be a coder,” I lamented. “I want to be code literate! Why can’t I read other people’s code and learn that way?” Exploring this thought further, I realized that I had been learning this way. This (along with a bunch googling and helpful CS-savvy friends) is how I learned to build my website, perform statistical analyses, compete in CTFs, and more.

I’m not a coder in my day-to-day activities, but I have developed a level of code literacy that enables me to have meaningful conversations about coding problems and translate between different stakeholders on projects. There are many people like me. People who do not need or want to develop a deep syntactic knowledge of code, but do want literacy: the ability to look at code and understand what it means.

The idea was to combine two needs (that for code literacy and documentation) into one solution. “Duolingo for code,” I pitched it in the pithy this-for-that fashion that has come to define Silicon Valley. Learners would review real code snippets and respond with code comments, collectively crowdsourcing documentation for open source projects. My Science Hack Day cohort responded with enthusiasm.

The first day of the hackathon was primarily used for information gathering, relationship development, and to fail fast on a variety of attempts at bringing this idea to fruition. I connected with educators, students, parents, and professional programmers. My goal was to both better understand the ecosystem of existing resources and to identify patterns in learning styles or barriers to learning. I also talked with the Github team to better understand the options for using their API to make pull requests for comment contributions and to source the code snippets.

Toward the end of the first day, a team had come together. I was joined by Jordan Hart, Erik Danford, and Sanford Barr as core members of our team. We dubbed our project CodeScribe for users’ role as narrators of code’s meaning (with a pleasant double entendre for “co-describe” the process of crowdsourcing documentation). Together, we honed in on some fundamental hypotheses to test to inform our development:

People can learn to understand code by reading snippets.

You do not need any prior knowledge of coding languages to learn in this fashion.

There is a way to automate checking comments.

People want to learn this way. AND/OR People want this skill.

Development

Through a series of thought experiments as well as a few quick-and-dirty prototypes, we arrived at some early discoveries. We challenged ourselves to perform the tasks we would be asking of our learners, to read and comment foreign code. Our initial learning was regarding hypothesis #3. We found that, beyond creating an automated way of checking quality of comments (or “translations”), we first had to define what a good comment was. We arrived at the conclusion that a good comment communicates the “why” of the code, rather than the “how.” While, I stand by this conclusion, it did present challenges for other aspects of our plan.

My initial vision for CodeScribe had been very much like the language-learning app Duolingo: short snippets to be translated into natural language. We were enthusiastic believing that writing comments would make the mobile app interface easy because we wouldn’t run into the issues around spellcheck for typing code. Our revelation about comments, however, meant that the length of code snippets presented to the user needed to be much longer. Determining the purpose of the code relies on context.

With continuous feedback from other Science Hack Day participants, we felt relatively confident in our fourth hypothesis. At the very least, the concept appealed to people. So, with that, it came time to test my boldest, most controversial hypothesis: that people do not need any prior knowledge of coding languages to develop code literacy through reading code. My compatriots (all of whom had studied, practiced, or even taught computer programming) were unsettled by this idea. My theory was that code was, after all, created to be useful to humans and therefore is arranged and named in a somewhat logical fashion. “For English speakers,” I proposed, “many of the terms should be familiar and may even read naturally.”

To truly test this, however, we would need to try it out with actual people! This became the focus of the rest of our time at Science Hack Day. Our final project resulted in a Google Form. We used a modified program from Jordan’s own lesson plan as the sample code and wrote up four different questions to evaluate understanding. All were multiple choice, and they represented different interaction types we envisioned for the CodeScribe: comment selection, code comparison, and function ordering.

You can find a copy of the Google Form survey here: You can find a copy of the code survey here: goo.gl/forms/YdcLBmwADQepxLU42

Results

Ultimately, I was terrifically pleased with the results. After three weeks, the survey had accumulated 55 responses from people distributed across all the defined learning methods and experience levels. The findings helped to confirm that those with absolutely no code education could extract some meaning from the code. CodeScribe certainly is not intended to throw people into plain code without guidance, so to me this was a big assurance that I’m headed in the right direction. From the survey, I also learned a lot about lesson design. I look forward to sharing the next CodeScribe prototype with you soon!

See the results and findings from this hack: goo.gl/9f3gUA You can find a copy of the code survey here: goo.gl/forms/YdcLBmwADQepxLU42 See the data for yourself: goo.gl/JDvZe7

#sciencehackday #science hack day #code #education #hackathon

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rcc-redmarley · 6 years ago

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Masquerade in the Cross River Region and craft practices

Post by Anna Young

This week marks the final week of Masquerade in the Cross-River Region: the Nicklin-Salmons Collection. This exhibition celebrates the imminent donation of the Nicklin-Salmons Collection of Ethnography to the Research and Cultural Collections. The exhibition introduces highlights of the wider gift and features photography taken during Keith Nicklin’s fieldwork in the Cross-River region of Nigeria and Cameroon in the 1970s. These photographs vividly bring to life masquerade, mask art forms and the production of masks.

Masquerade in the Cross River Region

Image Credit: Patrick Dandy

Keith Nicklin’s research initially focused on the production of skin-covered masks, but he was also documenting wider craft practices such as the making of traditional clothing, bark cloth, raffia cloth weaving and screw pine matting. Nicklin devised ways of encouraging often very old craftsmen to demonstrate their skills to him in order to document and record these declining skills by video and photo. He called this process the ‘ethnographic retrieval method’.

The Danford Collection of West African Art and Artefacts contains objects that reflect these traditional craft practices, for example bark cloth manufacture. Traditions of bark cloth manufacture predate the development of woven textiles in most parts of Africa. The process and materials of production are similar across Africa but whilst Nicklin was studying bark cloth in Nigeria, it originated from the Baganda people of Southern Uganda.

Bark cloth is thought to be the world’s oldest type of textile and the Baganda were most likely the originators of the practice in Africa. The Baganda process of manufacturing bark cloth has been declared a masterpiece of world intangible heritage by Unesco.

Bark cloth is made by processing the bark from trees from the mulberry and fig family. In Nigeria, this is made from the Oro tree (Antiaris toxicaria or Antiaris) whereas in Uganda, it’s the Mutaba tree (Ficus natalensis or Natal Fig). The process of production is the same no matter the variant of tree.

The first layer of bark is stripped off to reveal a softer second layer, which is peeled off in large sheets. Banana leaves are then wrapped around the exposed tree to allow it to regrow the next year. This means that the cloth is a sustainable resource and as such, many designers interested in sustainable fashion have started using the cloth.

The bark is boiled for a short time - some say to enrich the final colour, others say it is to keep the moisture in - then placed on a log and a series of beaters or mallets (nsammo) are used to pound the bark into a cloth.

Baganda (Uganda)

Ridged beater for making barkcloth, wood, Research and Cultural Collections

The grooves on the nsammo are designed to stretch the fibres of the bark and it’s made from dense hardwood to pound the bark thin. Other types of nsammo are used at different stages of the process - sometimes they’re shaped like a baseball bat and ridged along the length of the tool to stretch the fibres the opposite way. The process is fairly labour intensive: it takes up to 5 hours of pounding, rolling and re-stretching. Over this time, the bark becomes a thick but supple cloth. It is stretched a final time, then laid outside to dry and develop its signature rust colour.

Barkcloth sample from the Danford handling collection

Bark cloth was the traditional cloth used for ceremonial clothing, shrouds for the dead, bedding and home decoration. Whilst bark cloth was supplanted by cotton and other woven textiles as an everyday fabric in the late 19th century, there has been a recent resurgence in the manufacture and wearing of bark cloth in Uganda. Contemporary textile designers and artists interested in exploring traditional methods and cultural practices are using the cloth and more Ugandans are buying clothes made from the material as a way of representing their heritage.

#Exhibitions and Events #danford collection #danford collection of west african art and artefacts #african #uganda #barkcloth #sustainable #textile #masqueradeexhibition #Jill Salmons #researchandculturalcollections #university of birmingham #exhibition

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 2 years ago

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COSMIC - S2:E5; Chapter Five, Dig Dug - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘳𝘶𝘯-𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘺/𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴. “𝘣𝘰𝘣 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯” 𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮.

Warnings: canon racism, long chapter, small mentions of reader's birth mother/parent and is described to look like reader (for the sake of El recognizing her/them)

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Alright," Bob calls out. "I got 2.5 inches. What'd you got?"

"I'm not sure" Mike calls from Joyce's room. "Mrs. Byers?"

"Hold on!" She calls, stretching the measuring tape around the corner.

Unfortunately, they had yet to find the spot where Hopper was. Bob was at the kitchen table, mapping out coordinates while Mike and Joyce measured the distances between marked areas.

"Twenty-one feet, four inches."

"What about Tippecanoe to Danford Creek?" Bob asked.

Joyce's face scrunched up as she thought of where she last saw it.

"Da-Danford, Danford?"

"Dining room!" Will answered excitedly.

Joyce joined him with the measuring tape. She turned to face Bob who was in the other room.

"Sixteen feet, ten inches."

"What about Danford to Jordan?"

Joyce sighed, hurrying across the room to Bob's side.

"That's gotta be enough?"

Bob began sputtering, shaking his head sadly.

"It's not. It's really not."

"Can't you f-figure it out?"

By now, everyone was regrouped around the table. Everyone was watching Bob hopefully. He shrugged.

A beaming smile found its way onto Joyce and she exclaimed happily.

"Thank you!"

She leaned down and planted a big kiss on Bob's cheek, bringing a smile of his own to his lips.

Grabbing the map, she took out of the room, Mike, Will, and a confused Bob behind her.

"What? Are we really going?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Ted, can you get that please?"

When Mr. Wheeler opened the door, Dustin tried to remain as cool and collected as possible though it was difficult. He looked Mr. Wheeler in the eye and spoke carefully.

"Your line has been busy for over two hours, do you realize that?"

With the same unimpressed look painted across the man's face, as it always was, he nodded simply. "I do realize."

"Is Mike home?"

"No."

"No?" Dustin repeated, his composure cracking. "Well, where the hell is he?"

Mr. Wheeler's usual plain and tepid voice raised suddenly as he looked behind him into the house.

"Karen, where's our son?"

"Will's!" Came Mrs. Wheeler's voice from inside.

Mr. Wheeler calmly and disinterestedly looked back at Dustin.

"Will's," he said simply.

Dustin sighed heavily. "No one's picking up there. Nancy, what about Nancy?" He tried.

"Karen, where's Nancy?"

"Ally's!" She answered shortly.

"Ally's," Mr. Wheeler said and he shrugged. "As you can see, our children don't live here anymore. You didn't know that?"

Dustin felt all his hope evaporate as he looked at the dull man.

"Now, are we done here?" He asked pointedly.

Dustin sighed heavily, all efforts to be polite were long gone.

"Son of a bitch, you're really no help at all, you know that?" He said over his shoulder, as he walked away.

Ted called out lazily after the boy, his heart not entirely in the fight.

"Hey, language!"

"Listen, I've been thinking, love you, I'm sorry. 'Sorry', what the hell am I sorry for?"

"Steve!"

Steve was equally surprised to see the Henderson kid eagerly making his way towards himself. He stopped as the kid approached him, and he gestured to the flowers in his hands.

"Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?" Dustin asked.

Steve gave the boy an odd look and shook his head. "No, they're for--"

"--Great," Dustin ripped the bouquet from his unsuspecting hands and headed for Steve's car.

"Hey, what the hell? Hey!"

"Nancy isn't home," Dustin answered simply.

"Well, where is she?"

"Doesn't matter. We have bigger problems than your love life. You still have that bat?"

Steve watched as Dustin opened the passenger side door and looked at him expectantly.

"Bat? What bat?"

"The one with the nails." He replied, obviously.

"Why?"

"I'll explain it on the way."

Dustin climbed into the passenger seat and only then did Steve snap into action. Breaking into a jog, he couldn't help but ask.

"Wh-? Now?"

"Now!"

With that, Dustin closed the car door and watched impatiently as the boy made his way to the front seat.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Before he can do anything to stop them, he sees the thick ropes curl around his ankle and he jolts at the sudden contact. He scrambles to his feet in a panic, momentarily losing his balance.

"Son of a bitch!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"And that was the last we ever saw her. After that, she was just, gone. I can't believe it's been that long, it feels like yesterday." Lucas finishes.

Max nods, a concentrated frown on her face.

"Yeah, I mean, I bet," she says, lifting Lucas's hopes. "Wow,"

"It's crazy, I know."

"It's crazy, but," she shrugged. "I really liked it."

It was Lucas's turn to be confused. "You like it?"

"Yeah," she frowned slightly, a tight smile on her face. "Well, I mean, I had a few issues?"

"Issues?"

"I just felt it was a little derivative at some parts."

Lucas was flabbergasted, and his high hopes came crashing down to the ground.

"What are you talking about?"

She shrugged simply, tucking her palms in her lap as she looked at him with irritation.

"I just wish it had a little more originality, is all."

Lucas could feel anger bubbling up in his chest. He leaned forward, a frown etched into his brows.

"You don't believe me?"

Max chortled and gave the boy a pathetic glance. Her voice began to rise steadily, her own anger taking over her false intrigue.

"Lucas, come on, seriously? How gullible do you think I am?"

"Why would I make this up?" Lucas shot back.

"I don't know! To impress me, or something? Or, you're just like, insane."

"I tell you all of this," Lucas declares hotly, rising to his feet. "I mean, top-secret stuff, risking my life, and this is how you react?"

Instead, Max looked at him with an amused expression painted on her face."'Risking your life?'"

The frustration festered inside of Lucas at the girl's unwavering amusement at the traumatic experience. "Oh, so this is funny to you?"

"Yeah, I mean, kinda funny?"

Lucas only glared at her, and a smug smile finds its way onto her face as she rises to her feet.

"Stupid, but funny."

Shrugging him and the properly burrowed feeling of fear off her shoulders, she waltzed towards the door, her board in hand.

"Where are you going?"

She stopped and gave him a passing look. "Story time's over, isn't it?"

Lucas feels the harsh sting of her words and decides he wants to put in a few of his own. As she strides out of the arcade, he stays on her heels.

"What is wrong with you? I gave you what you wanted."

"I wanted to be a part of the group, not a part of some joke."

Her mask of anger had begun to crack, and shining through was genuine hurt. Lucas did his best to convey his seriousness, though at this point he didn't know how much good it would do.

"It's not a joke," he said again slowly.

"We have a lot of rules in our party, okay? But the most important thing is, friends don't lie. Never, ever, no matter what."

"Is that right?" She said confidence dripping from her words knowing she had caught him. "Then how do you explain this?"

This time, she gestured for him to follow her. They turned the corner and into the aisle of games. She swiftly ripped the piece of paper from the screen that read, OUT OF ORDER, and stuck it on Lucas's chest with the remaining bits of tape that resided on the back.

Lucas sighed, ripping the piece of paper off his shoulder and sent her a pleading look.

"I had to do that, to protect you."

Max snapped once more, her anger and her own frustrations getting the best of her.

As calmly and discreetly as possible, he spoke to her as his eyes darted around the arcade.

"Keep your voice down."

Her demeanor shifted too quickly to that of exaggerated understanding. "Or maybe to protect me from the Demogorgon from another dimension."

"Max, I'm serious, shut up!"

Ignoring him, and his voice still rising, she turned to him, this time speaking with exaggerated excitement.

"No, no, no. I know, it was Y/n and their other superpowered friend, what was it? Eleven-"

Max's eyes widened when Lucas suddenly threw his hands over her mouth. His eyes were pleading and he whispered under his breath, begging her.

"Stop. Talking." He glanced over her shoulder worriedly. "You are going to get us killed. Do you understand?"

"You're serious?"

He stepped back, his voice still low. "I really wish I wasn't."

She quickly recovered, and while she had begun to believe, her skepticism was quickly trying to convince her otherwise. "Prove it."

A defeated look washed over Lucas. He shrugged lightly. "I can't."

"So what? I'm just supposed to trust you?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes."

She shifted on her feet lightly and something clicked.

"Can't Y/n show me their little trick or whatever, just--"

A car engine roared to life outside, cutting her off. She sped to the window and much to her chagrin, it was exactly who she had suspected.

"Shit, I gotta go."

"Don't follow me out. Okay?" She whispered gently.

She released his hand and opened the door, heading out. Lucas couldn't stop the words that left his mouth in desperation.

"Do you believe me?"

Max scrambled inside the car, tucking in her feet and her board just before closing the door. Billy, who had his head resting on the headrest and looking out of the window, was seething.

"The hell I tell you?" He growled.

Max gave him an odd look. "I'm not late."

"You know what I'm talking about."

Swallowing her fear, she quickly recovered and masked her face with confusion. "Oh, Lucas?"

Billy scoffed in disgust, his brows furrowed under his sunglasses as his anger rose. "So he has a name now, huh?"

She cursed herself for stammering, knowing he would pick up on it but prayed he didn't.

"It's a small town, okay? We weren't hanging out." She assures him.

Billy shrugs lightly, and his voice lowered. "Hmm. Well, you know what happens when you lie."

Max shook her head.

"I'm not lying."

Worriedly, she looks out the window behind her before quickly looking forward in fear of being caught.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El and Y/n watch patiently in the kitchen as Becky cuts an old towel in two. She holds it up to them, the cloth now the perfect size and shape for a makeshift blindfold. "Like this?"

El nodded, her chin still resting gently on her palm. "Yes."

The three returned to the living room, and Y/n, per El's request, had turned the volume up on the television set so the static echoed throughout the room.

El sat on the carpet, legs folded beneath her as she folded the cloth into a proper blindfold. Becky sat to the left of Y/n, who sat criss-cross just a foot or two away from El, giving her space.

"It's okay if I sit here, right?" Becky asked.

"Yes," El said, securing the blindfold around her eyes.

"And I won't mess it up or anything?"

"No," El answered, growing short.

"Okay." Becky licked her lips nervously, looking longingly toward her sister.

"If you talk to Terry, will you tell her that I love her very much? And that I'm sorry that I didn't believe--"

"Stop talking," El said crossly.

"Okay, sorry," Becky mumbled.

Y/n caught her eye, and they mouthed a 'sorry'. Becky's lips pressed into a firm line, shrugging, implying she didn't take it too seriously. Her attention was mostly concentrated on her sister, and Y/n had begun to feel the same as Becky did. In the aspect that they felt out of place while El communicated with her mother.

"Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow." Terry mumbled, her fingers twitching and lips twitching. "Run. Breathe. Sunflower."

El awoke in the familiar dark landscape, her toes curling slightly in the imaginary water.

Her mother sat before her, just as she looked moments ago in the living room.

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow."

El timidly made the journey forward, growing closer to her mother with each step. She only hoped this would work.

"Three to the right, four to the left. Four fifty. Run."

"Mama?"

"Sunflower. Rainbow."

"Mama, it's me..."

"-four to left. Four fifty."

"...Jane."

"Breathe. Rainbow."

"I'm here now,"

"Four fifty."

El took the final step, now only inches away from her mother. After the words left her tongue, everything happened quickly. "I'm home."

The woman's head snapped in her direction, her eyes boring into El's, desperation clouding them.

"No."

But she was alone.

"Mama!"

"Terry!" She cried. "Go! Now! You can still make it! You know where to go-!"

"Terry, what are you waiting for?! RUN!"

El watched aghast as the h/c-haired woman was pulled farther and farther away, her screams never ceasing. Unlike anything she had ever seen in the void, she could make out the bad men turning a corner and they disappeared around an invisible corner. Before El could make out what happened, a loud bang was heard and the screams stopped. El stumbled back in fear, tears streaming from her eyes. Her ankle caught something and she fell backward into the thin pool of water. She hid her face in her hands, the panic rising in her chest and she realized she was hyperventilating. The sound of her mother's wailing brought her out of her panic, or at least it redirected it.

She knew why her mother stopped. She was in pain and she was bleeding a great deal. She scrambled to her feet to help her mother but she did not know what to do.

"Mama? Mama!"

Just as soon, her mother groaned in pain and stumbled to the ground, grasping her stomach. El immediately and tearfully knelt beside her sobbing mother, laying a shaky hand on her mother's arm.

"Mama! Mama!"

The woman wailed, clutching her stomach, completely unfazed by El's presence.

"Oh, my baby!" She cried worriedly.

"What do I do?" El asked frantically. "Mama, what do I do? Help me!"

A familiar voice echoes out, calling out fearfully.

"Terry? Terry!"

"Mama, what do I do? How do I help you?"

"Terry, where were you? Oh, my God!"

"Oh, my God," she sniffles, looking around worriedly. "Okay, breathe. Just breathe, alright? Breathe."

She sees her mother lying on the grass yards away from a house, and now she knows she is not seeing through her own eyes. She is reliving her mother's past.

"They're on their way, okay?"

El sees her mother's hand reach for her bleeding stomach and looks back at Becky.

"They got her. [y/m/n], they got [y/m/n]. I have to go, I have to leave! I have to get her out, I h-have to get her out-" Terry wails in agony, clutching her stomach. "She did it. She got... them out... I need to go- AAHH"

Becky shakes her head, reaching out for her as she takes Terry's hand in comfort.

"Terry, no! Just breathe, alright? You need to breathe, I've told you, no one is coming for her, alright?"

"They wanted them, and they're gonna want Jane! Don't make me do this," she wailed, shaking her head.

She lets out another wail of agony and everything begins to fade.

"Terry!"

Everything goes black and the next thing El knows she is being wheeled through a hallway, two nurses looking at her.

"Stay with us, darling. Stay with us."

El sees her mother writhing in pain on the moving bed, clutching her stomach.

El sees a small blade glide across her mother's skin, blood dripping from the cut and the next thing she sees is a tiny infant come into view. It cries with its small high voice, visibly animated in movement. El realizes it's her, and her mother is fighting to stay awake. A set of eyes, all too familiar to El, come into view. The man's face is mostly covered by his mask, but El knows all too well it's the face of the man that tortured her for years. Confirming her suspicions, the man pinches the white mask and pulls it down to his chin revealing Papa's sinister scowl.

Everything goes black once more. It is quiet, and for a moment El thinks the vision is over. But a bright light reveals itself, and the first thing El can identify is a vase of sunflowers.

Her vision pans over to see a tearful Becky. She gives the weakest of smiles and speaks, El can hear the lump in her throat as she is holding back her tears.

"Hey, there."

Her mother stirs awake on the hospital bed. She groans and looks around worriedly.

"Jane? Where's Jane?"

Becky shakes her bowed head, tears clouding her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She croaks, reaching forward and taking her hand. "Honey, she didn't make it. I'm so sorry, Ter, I'm so sorry."

Terry shakes her head, anger and panic rising in her.

"No, I saw her!" She said simply.

Becky shook her head.

"No, no, she wasn't breathing."

"She was crying!"

"No."

"Oh, God." She breathed, the memories swarming back to her. "Becky, it happened. I saw her, an-and he was there! He was there! He had her and-!"

"No," was all Becky could muster, sniffling.

Becky took a deep breath, still shaking her head, unable to meet her sister's eye right away.

"Terry, no, I'm sorry, I wish that were true--"

"--It is! Becky, I'm telling you, I saw it! We have to get her! He took her!"

"Who was there, Terry?" Becky asked, trying to calm her through her own tears.

"He took her!" She said, growing more frantic.

"Terry--" Becky warned.

But Terry had already begun to sit up despite her sister's efforts to keep her in bed.

"No, no, no! Don't take it out! Terry!"

She had ripped the IV out of her arm, and seconds later a nurse came in, holding her down.

"No, no! I need to get her! Becky, I told you!"

"Terry!"

"--I told you this would happen! I need to get her!"

"Three to the right. Four to the left." She mumbled.

"Ma'am, can I see your badge?"

Terry stops, taking a deep breath. She turns around, pulling the gun from her bag. She aims it at the man and anybody that tried to approach.

"Stay back. Stay back!"

"Jane? Jane?"

She looks over her shoulder and that's when she spots it. The rainbow room. A door across the hall with a small rainbow painted on the inside of the doorframe.

Eagerly, she opens the door. Inside, she finds two young girls playing, one of them she knows to be her daughter. She steps forward cautiously, but happily. Each of them gives her an off look and she smiles, leaning down to her daughter.

"Jane... No!"

"No! No! She's my child! No! She's my child!"

The sight of the tiny rainbow painted on the walls is the last thing in focus as she is dragged far away.

The next thing she sees comes in flashes. Hands struggling and hair whipping around as Terry struggles in the grip of several bad men.

"No! No."

"Four fifty," Papa says.

Everything starts over in quick flashes as she stares at the ceiling. All of it, happening in short spurts.

"Terry, what are you waiting for?! RUN!"

BANG.

"Oh, my God! Okay, breathe. They're on their way."

She's wheeled through the hallway.

"Stay with us, darling."

Jane crying.

Her eyes open and El can hear her mother's voice.

"Sunflower"

"He was there!"

Nurses restrain her.

"Three to the right. Four to the left."

She unlocks the safe and shoots the gun.

She sees the room.

"Sunflower."

The dial turns.

"Four fifty."

"RUN!" A gun goes off.

"Breathe." Jane cries.

Flowers at her bedside. "Sunflower."

Gunshot, she approaches the door. "Rainbow."

The dial turns. "Four fifty."

She convulses.

"RUN!"

"Breathe,"

"Three to the right. Four to the left."

"Breathe"

"Sunflower."

"Rainbow"

"Three to the right."

"RUN!"

"Four fifty."

"RUN!"

"Rainbow."

"Three to the right."

"RUN!"

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow. Three to the right. Four to the left."

El feels a pair of arms wrap gently around her and she can feel her own shaking, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly. She feels a hand grab hers and she knows it's Y/n. She squeezes their hand for comfort and Y/n gently runs their thumb over the back of her hand, showing their support.

No one says anything for a while, and apart from her mother's mumbling, she sits in silence embracing the support given to her as she tries to calm her racing heart.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"There's nothing. There's nothing here." Mike says worriedly.

Mike, Will, Joyce, and Bob were all packed inside Joyce's Ford Pinto in search of where they believed Hopper's location to be.

Worriedly, Joyce spares a quick glance at Bob who holds the map in his lap. "Are... Are we close?"

"We're in the vicinity," Bob replies.

"What's that mean, the vicinity?" She asked worriedly.

"It means we're close. I don't know. It's not precise." Bob sputters, feeling the guilt and pressure weighing on his chest.

"But we did all that work!" Joyce exclaims, exasperated.

"I told you, the scale ratio is not exactly one-to-one. We needed to take--"

"Turn right!" Will shouts suddenly.

"What?"

Everyone looked to Will, even Joyce, but she made sure to return her attention to the road.

"I saw him!" Will answered.

"Where?"

"Not here. In my now-memories"

A knowing gasp falls over Mike and Joyce, while Bob whirls around to look at Will, flabbergasted. "In your what?" Bob asks.

"Turn right!" Will yells again.

Everyone is thrown to the side of the car, Will bumping into Mike, and Bob nearly falling on Joyce as the car violently jerked to the side. A horrible screech filled everyone's ears as the tires flew across the pavement. Everything happened in a matter of seconds as the car took down a sign attached to the wooden fencing, as well as several clumps of hay that temporarily covered the windshield. Before they knew it, they were thrown forward when Joyce slammed on the brakes, stopping only inches away from the back of Hopper's car.

Joyce whirled around to look at Will, then Mike.

"Are you okay?"

Will nodded and she faced the front once more. Everyone was panting heavily still, collecting their breath.

"Superspy," Mike confirmed between breaths.

"What's Jim doing here?" Bob asked, recognizing the car in front of them. "Joyce?"

Ignoring his questions, Joyce returned her attention to the back seat and looked between Will and Mike.

"Boys, I need you to stay here."

Will shook his head frantically as she climbed out of the car.

"No. Mom, Mom, Mom, it's not safe." He called desperately, leaning over to look at her.

"That's why I need you to stay here! Stay here!" She ordered.

Slamming the car door, the boys sat in silence as they felt the car shake slightly. Bob and Joyce trudged across the field, careful not to step on the many rotten pumpkins.

"Hopper!" Joyce's worried and shrill cries echoed across the field and into the night.

"Hey, be careful." He shook his head, nervously spewing commentary in disbelief. "Just going down the hole."

"Vines." She gasped.

Hesitant to break her gaze away for too long, she gestured to the shovel that stood near Bob's feet.

"Give me that."

"The shovel?"

"Yes, give me the shovel!"

"I need you to help me get down there." She ordered.

Growing frantic and increasingly worried, Bob hunched over slightly and waved his arms.

"Joyce, what are you talking about?"

"Bob! Now!" She roared, extending her arm.

"Hopper!" She called. "Hopper! Hopper!"

"Joyce, what is going on? Where are we?"

Stammering, she reached out to Bob and looked him up and down, making sure he had safely made the drop. "Bob, are you okay?"

Bob's attention was pulled to his surroundings once his eyes had adjusted.

He looked around in amazement and shock.

"Tunnels. Is this Will's map?" He asked.

She had reached into his jacket pocket, knowing he always kept a small flashlight for emergencies.

"Hopper!" She called, scanning the tunnels for any sign of the chief.

"Are we in Will's map?" Bob asked once more.

Biting the bullet and picking a direction, she began navigating the tunnels, calling out for the missing man.

"Hopper! Hopper!"

"We're in Will's map!" Bob mumbled excitedly, following Joyce close behind.

"Hopper!"

"We're actually inside Will's map!"

"Hopper!"

"How did he know all this?"

"Bob! Over here!"

She knelt down by the cigarette, she picked it up and showed it to her boyfriend.

"It's his! He's gotta be this way! Come on."

Just outside above the entrance, Mike and Will had exited the car and slowly approached the edge of the crater.

"Do you see anything?" Mike asked. "I mean, in your now-memories?"

Will shook his head, watching the ground uneasily. The sound of several engines captured the boys' attention and they turned around to see several vehicles flood onto the field from where they had come. To his horror, Mike recognized the white vans labeled HAWKINS POWER AND LIGHTING as the very same ones that had chased him and his friends the previous year. It was a fleet from Hawkins Lab. He was suddenly grateful Y/n had left, wherever they were, they would be safe from them. At least, he hoped.

"Oh! It's his arm!"

"It's choking him!"

Joyce redirected her efforts to the vine that struggled to tighten itself around Hopper's neck. Much to their surprise, Hopper spoke in a strained voice. "Knife!"

Joyce looked around desperately for the tool, but Bob was quick to answer. The beam fell across Hopper and next to Joyce. "It's over there!"

Sure enough, just inches away from Hopper's grasp, was the man's pocket knife.

Quickly, she got to work and it wasn't long until the vine around his neck snapped, Hopper gasped for air, and looked to his hands.

"Hands!"

"Bastard!"

"Oh, my God. Hopper, are you okay?" She panted.

"Joyce."

"Are you okay? Are you okay?"

Hopper nodded, patting her on the arms gently and she released him. He swung his arm behind him and patted the man beside him.

"Hey, Bob."

"Hey, Jim."

The trio huddled together, backing away from the advancing vines. Joyce turned and jumped in fear when she saw a figure next to Bob, dressed in a hazmat suit.

"Oh, my God!"

"Go! Go! Go! Clear the area!" The figure ordered.

"Will, what's wrong?" Mike wailed, feeling helpless.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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