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adventuresloane · 4 years

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The Wanted (Revised Hurloane Fic) - Chapter 1

Summary:

"They had nearly as many names as they had stories told about them. Ram. Raven. Red. Devil. Deputy. Outlaw. Short 'n Long. Ghosts of the Rapids."

Hurley's a bounty hunter, the Raven is an outlaw, and the desert is a lonely place.

(The 50k+ Old West Hurloane AU Where Hurley Becomes A Thief Too that no one asked for. Updates every Friday. Edited and reposted from an old version of the story--more significant changes to come in later chapters. T for non-graphic violence and discussions of death/injury/trauma.)

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They had nearly as many names as they had stories told about them.

Ram. Raven. Red. Devil. Deputy. Outlaw. Short 'n Long. Ghosts of the Rapids.

What happened to them depends on who you ask. Some say the Raven twisted the Ram, but then again, the Ram might have been born with badness in the marrow of their bones. They say the outlaw was a thief, that her glittering horde still lies somewhere out in the desert among the canyons. They say the deputy was a sharpshooter with twenty notches on their pistol, one for every man who tried to take them. They say they were very much in love.

Maybe they still are. People who camp alone by the river say at night, they hear too-loud whispers over the rush.

If you ask the only man who was there that day, he'll tell you the same thing every time, and nothing more: "They went over the cliff and into the river. Never found the bodies."

He won't tell you whether they were dead before they hit the water. He won't even tell you whether they were shot at all. Maybe, as some say, the two of them just tipped, hand-in-hand, falling backwards over the edge together as children let themselves fall into soft grass.

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

"I don't give a rat's ass what Bane said. She so much as looks at me wrong, I'm shooting."

Hurley heard the murmuring and looked over their shoulder. The two men were lagging, their mounts clopping along at a lackadaisical pace. Barbra and Lil' Jerry rode side-by-side and leaned toward each other in their saddles as they spoke in what could charitably be called a whisper. Hurley slowed their own horse a bit to get closer and listen.

"Yeah, as if you'd live long enough to press the trigger," Lil' Jerry snickered in response. "You couldn't outdraw a tin can."

"Oh, fuck off! I take care of myself fine."

"Ah, whatever."

"Besides, I'll have my gun drawn the whole time we're giving chase. I'm not taking chances on this one. You've heard the stories. Even saw the blood in one of those train cars that one time, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Lil' Jerry muttered.

"Everyone's quicker on the trigger when they know their gun's the only thing between them and the Big Sleep," Barbra declared. "That's just survival instinct."

"That poor Abernathy fuck wasn't. Quicker, that is."

"That doesn't mean you just wave a gun around if there's nothing in sight to shoot," Hurley piped up. They took more than a little satisfaction in how the two men looked at them, first with surprise and then with frustration, as if they'd really thought they were getting away with something.

"We weren't talking to you."

"You might as well have been. You were loud enough. Bane told us we have to start moving quietly. The Raven's probably in this area."

"Trust you to do whatever he tells you." Hurley bristled as Lil' Jerry went on, "This is only your first time out, so we don't need you telling us what to do with our mouths or our guns."

"I know my way around a gun just fine, and you know tha--"

"All of you," said a deep voice, causing Hurley to stop instantly, "would be better off if you paid more attention to what's around you instead of whatever bullshit you're going on about."

Hurley said, "Sorry" while the boys behind them mumbled the word vaguely. At once, they prompted their horse to pick up speed and catch up with Bane as he led the way.

When they had been riding alongside him for a few minutes, he leaned their way a little. "Though I would say," he started conspiratorially, "having seen both of you at target practice, I trust you to point a pistol the right way quite a bit more than I trust Barbra."

They snickered a little. "I'd hope so, Sheriff."

"You've got a head on your shoulders, even if you've got to be reminded to use it now and again." They looked down and smiled a little sheepishly, though the way he said it made it sound more compliment than critique. "The problem is that anyone can take a look at a thousand-dollar 'wanted' poster and suddenly decide they're a bounty hunter. They try to be heroes.”

"I don't suppose a lot of bravado does you much good out here."

"Oh, no, it can. You need to be tougher in the face of some damn tough criminals. Another reason I think you'll be good to have around." He was grinning. "But the people who come in guns blazing are also the ones who turn tail the quickest when things get to be too much for them."

"You won't have that problem with me, sir."

"No, I don't think I will. I've known you long enough to know you're here because you want to put things right. I think you and I could do that back at home, too."

"It needs it. Goldcliff's broken, if you ask me."

"Hey, now, that's my town you're talking about."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean it that way. It's just I've seen so many people there try to cheat and hustle and steal ever since I came there, and now this...murdering a man on his own doorstep in the middle of the afternoon." They shook their head. "I can't stand it."

"You don't have to. You can help stop it if you want."

"I do. And I think I'll have a much better chance of doing it with you and the law. No more of me challenging cheaters to tavern fights to sort them out," they said with a small laugh. "Thank you again, by the way, for letting me come out here with you."

He nodded before turning to address the whole group. "We're about to enter the canyon. Be careful how you go, now. It echoes in there."

Their heart began to bounce inside their chest as they thought of facing their quarry. Their horse sped up to a trot.

“Hurley.”

They looked behind them to find a stern-faced Bane and a posse that had stopped moving altogether. Trying to swallow down the blush working up their face, they got back in line behind Bane.

The four moved single-file as they made their way downward. By the time they reached the bottom, there was still no activity, not so much as a lizard skittering through the grit on the ground. Quiet filled up the gaps between the stone walls, washed over them like the long-dead rivers that had once carved out these canyons. All they could hear was the clacking of the horses' footfalls, thrown back at them louder.

At various points, Bane sometimes whispered, more often simply signalled with his hands for one of them to break off and explore another path. They would return empty-handed.

Now, Bane held up a hand for them all to stop. Hurley heard, then, just for a moment, the sound of hoofbeats that belonged to none of their rides. With the way sound played off the stone, they couldn��t determine how far it was.

It kept coming as none of them moved, noise bouncing and skipping off the walls like a mockery. Sometimes distant, sometimes nearer, sometimes seemingly next to their ears. The canyon was sinuous and full of unexpected branches and side-paths. They tried to pinpoint the source of the noises that seemed to come from everywhere, from out of the ether.

Or they did until a resounding bang interrupted. It made a couple of the horses spook and rear as it blasted apart the near-silence. This time, it wasn't hard to tell that it came directly from behind.

Everyone else turned to see Barbra holding the smoking gun, looking more shocked than anyone.

"For fuck's sake, Barb," Lil' Jerry muttered.

And then a flash of dark around a corner.

Their galloping set the whole place rumbling as they all shot off. Hurley’s horse nearly skittered on the sand several times as they whipped the reins sharply to the side. It was what was necessary to wind through the narrow passages that curled deeper and deeper into the canyon.

Whenever there was a widening of the path that might allow more than one horse through at a time, Hurley tried to shove past the others. They had to be up front. They could barely see anything past Bane, leading at the front and shouting things they couldn’t hear.

He grabbed his lasso as they came around one bend. There was nothing on his face except the same solid determination as usual, only sharpened.

The posse pulled around the corner and came to an instant halt, scraping hooves stirring sand. Hurley craned their neck to see the dead end at the end of this passage, a sheer wall of redstone. But no Raven.

Not until there was sound well behind the whole group as the dark form reappeared and shot off in the other direction.

"Dammit," he spat as he yanked the reins back hard and turned his horse around. "Stay together!"

Hurley kept pace with the rest of the group, until they didn't. By degrees, they drew their horse back into a canter, then a slow trot. As expected, the others were too fixated on their path to notice that they were losing Hurley, as they leaned low over the manes of their galloping animals. The posse twisted around a sharp corner and out of their sight.

You're thinking with your belly again, they heard their mother say, while she poked the round ball of their seven-year-old tummy.

None of them were about to outpace the Raven while she stayed three turns ahead of them. She knew the canyon, maybe so well that she knew where her pursuers were just by hearing the echo of them along the red stone walls. But if just one of them could out-maneuver...

They bid their horse to turn around and move at a quiet walk. This was not a betrayal of Bane's orders, they convinced themself. Not really, anyway. Maybe he had told them to keep up with the group, but surely the higher order was to find the thief. If they did that, he could forgive the unconventional methods.

And they would do it.

They started to pick their way through the tangle of paths. The Raven had traveled back this way, running in front of the posse, only to disappear around a bend and re-emerge behind them all. This, perhaps, was where a number of the narrow natural trails converged. They might part only to circle back and rejoin each other elsewhere. If that were true, she would be likely to stay near the place where she had a number of exit routes. This was where she expected she'd be safe.

They chose their directions nearly at random, only knowing that they wanted to roughly parallel the path that their team had been taking before. They could meet up with them and maybe head the Raven off, if they could only keep track of where the others might be. They went left, left again, right. When they reached a slot-like passage in the rock face too narrow for a horse, they bit their lip, then dismounted and left the gelding behind as they sidled sideways through.

Occasionally, the others' calls and the pounding of their horses' hooves would come to Hurley, and they would stop to hear more. By then, though, the echoes would have already receded. They still had no way of knowing where the source of the sounds could be found--they got bounced around and lost in the network of paths until they seemed entirely disembodied. They might as well have been the chattering of specters wafting their way through the cavernous, lonely canyon. Right, left. No route here was distinct from the rest. For all they knew, they were wearing circles into the sand.

Right, right again, and then, suddenly, no further. They pulled themself back behind a boulder and instinctively clapped a hand over their mouth. It was some time before they were able to make themself crane their neck back around, to determine whether they had seen what they'd thought they'd seen.

From behind, they saw a figure sitting atop her steed. Long black duster turned sepia by the caked-on dust of the desert and a wide-brimmed, jet bolero with a sharp feather sticking up straight from the hatband. She was still. Just waiting.

Their mouth felt dry. At some point, they realized that it was gaping open, and they snapped it shut. The clack of their teeth sounded far too loud in their mouth.

They took a single step around the large stone that they hid behind. The half-elf's ears swiveled around and moved to pick up on sound. They seemed to fixate on nothing, though. Certainly, she didn't look Hurley's way as they gripped the long rope and positioned it in their hands. Their every movement was measured now. With every scrape of the rough hemp coil against their fingers, they felt certain that she would turn around, but she didn't. Another step, placed on the ground deliberately. The sand did not crunch beneath them.

From where they stood behind the boulder, they did not have a clear shot at her, but they did not dare step out fully into the open. They could still get her, though. They would still get her. It probably should have been fear that sent the eager blood blazing through them--the fear that she would see them and be gone in an instant, the fear that they would be gone in an instant when she spun to blow them away--but that wasn't it. This was the familiar thrill of the final blow and the bullseye. It ran through them whenever they knew they were about to prove what they could do. They clenched their lasso as the world shrunk to what was right in front of them. What was right in front of them was an opportunity.

They threw. The Raven had a half-second to look at the loop that had snapped tight around her ankle before Hurley pulled with all they could, and down she went to the ground. When she impacted, it was with a choked noise that might have been a yell, had the wind not been punched out of her lungs.

They almost wanted to cheer as her horse spooked and ran off.

But then they turned to look at just what it was they had caught. The figure at the end of their tether lay on her back for several moments, unmoving. For a moment, they wondered if she had been stunned by a blow to the head. They saw that, certainly, she was still hurting from the way her spine had slammed into the baked-hard earth. Low, creaking groans came from the back of her throat along with her exhales.

Suddenly, as though startled awake, her eyes snapped wide open to the sky. She scrambled to push herself onto her elbows and look at the place where her ride had been, then spun her whole body around to face Hurley.

There was a bandana tied around her face, black and patterned with feathers, puffing out slightly with every breath. It covered up everything except her eyes, but the eyes were enough. Now unshielded by the hat that had fallen from her head, they snatched Hurley's gaze and held it tight. They were big, for one thing, and youthful, with the cool-toned brown skin around them unlined. What hit them, though, was how they went wide and got wider, caught bare and off-guard. Like they took in everything and understood none of it. Disbelief at being brought down so far and so fast.

They matched her gaze. They might have been smiling. Hurley liked making people believe they could do things previously thought impossible.

The Raven's eyes flitted down to the rope around her foot twice, the first time almost as an afterthought, the second with a look of mounting rage, and it occurred to Hurley just then that they had not really restrained her much at all. They tightened their grip on the lasso just as she went to stand and yanked so that she could not get her footing. She fell back onto her butt with an indignant grunt and tried again. They pulled again, becoming more aware all the while that they were just bringing her closer to them.

That was when the sound returned to them like rocks tumbling over each other. Both they and the Raven turned just in time to see Barbra and Jerry come riding up, and for possibly the first time ever, Hurley was relieved to see them both. It was just seconds before each of them tossed a rope around her torso and pinned her arms to her sides. She squirmed against the bonds for a few moments and then went still, glaring between the three of them there. That was that.

A fine thread of blood had begun to trickle out from beneath her hairline, barely skirting her eye, where she could not wipe it away. It ran all the way down to her neck. Hurley's doing. They were about to step forward when they felt a large hand press down on their shoulder.

"So you lost us a horse, it seems."

Hurley looked up in surprise, but Bane had a warm grin for them, the kind that let a person in on a joke. They smiled back, probably more broadly than they strictly needed to. "Still glad you brought me along?"

"Well, had you been a little worse at this job than I thought you'd be, you would've gone off and done something stupid and not gotten anywhere." He gave them a couple of firm pats. "But turns out, you're just as good as I thought you'd be. Better, considering you got the Raven on your first try."

"I wasn't expecting it either," they laughed.

He chuckled lightly, and then they watched him turn his attention to the captive in front of him. Barbra had her by the back of her collar and had already pulled her up to her knees. A bit of her hair was caught in his fist.

"She's younger than I thought," Hurley commented.

He gave the thief an assessing look. "Not more than a year or two younger than you, I'd say. I don't see outlaws too much older than this, quite frankly. They tend to live fast and die faster."

"I guess so," they mumbled mostly to themself as they watched Bane walk over to her. The boys weren't easing up on the lassos, and already her breathing was shallower as her chest tried to expand against the rope.

He didn't tell them off for it, though. Instead he stepped close to her so that the tips of his boots nearly touched her knees. He cast her into shadow as he stood over her, making her lean back in order to match his gaze. Then, with a forefinger and thumb, he gripped the mask around her face and pulled it down in one motion. They saw all of her hard countenance now. A pale scar ran over the bridge of her nose, another down across her lips in a perfect vertical.

With the same hand that had felt warm and strong on Hurley's shoulder a moment ago, he suddenly grabbed her jaw. His fingers pressed into the skin of her cheek, his thumb dug into the bone beneath her ear. They released a minute gasp. They could see it from where they stood, how he kept squeezing as though to wring something out of her, which perhaps he did when her mouth was forced open a bit.

"So that's what you look like," he said coolly. "You'll really get your picture in all the papers now, isn't that right?"

Her expression stayed hard and solid as stone. Her lower jaw was gritted and jutted. Hurley didn't know how she wasn't even trying to pull away. How she stood it rather than trying to whip her head out of his grasp. That was what they would have done, they thought.

"Bind her hands and arms both." He dropped his hand, finally. "And make sure those knots are damn tight. She's been known to try sneaking off."

This was the only time she fought, really. Jerry came up behind her, and she glanced backwards, gritted her teeth, got one of her feet underneath her and tried to stand before being shoved back to the ground. Bane was over there and assisting before it even occurred to Hurley that they might help their posse. A hand on her bent back, right at the vertebra where the neck met the spine. She kept struggling as her arms were crossed behind her, with each wrist bound against the opposite elbow. It was only when Barbra pulled back on the rope hard enough to make her wince that she stopped. That left her leaning over a little. Her chest and the muscles of her belly worked hard on every rasping inhale. Her breathing stayed heavy and open-mouthed when she was half-pulled and half-kicked to her feet and started walking behind the horses as they moved in the direction of their base camp.

Hurley walked too, though Bane offered more than once to let them ride on his horse while he walked awhile. On the way, they kept turning back to look. The Raven just went and went. She drove her gaze into the ground like a plough and hardly moved or lifted it, except to glare when she felt an extra tug on the ropes around her torso. Other than that, she looked almost listless. Concussed, maybe, they thought. But she wasn't uncoordinated or struggling to focus. She simply didn't react.

It wasn't until they got back to their base camp that she showed some resistance. Hurley saw as she finally picked her head up and watched while Barbra opened the padlocked back door to the wagon, with its couple of small, square, barred windows. She hesitated before the wide dark opening, tried to take a couple steps back even as she was pulled forward. But it didn't matter. Barbra yanked and Lil' Jerry shoved and Hurley saw her look backward over the boys' heads, at something far away, before the door closed and locked on her again.

They stared for a bit longer before shaking their head. "I can go untie her for you while she's in there, Sheriff--"

"No," he said even as they started stepping forward. "It'll be good for tiring her out a bit if she stays like that for awhile."

"But that's dangerous," they responded without waiting a beat.

"It's only for a few hours, Hurley. It won't hurt anything."

They tried to keep from gaping at him. "It'll definitely hurt. It probably hurts now."

There was a force and urgency in their voice that they heard too late. He half-turned his head towards them, just enough that they could see the widening of his eye and the raising of his brow. "Hurley, you caught an outlaw on your first go, and that's to be commended, but you're still new to all of this. I've been here plenty of times. Trust me when I say I know what to do here." He nodded towards said outlaw, now unseen behind the door. "You suppose we were too rough?"

"I..." They bit the inside of their cheek. Hurley was included in that "we." Only one of them among the group, after all, had made the Raven bleed. "I just think we shouldn't do anything unnecessary."

"And I agree," he said almost somberly. "I try not to, unlike some people. If another group of bounty hunters had gotten her, she likely would've been beaten by now. That's if they bothered trying to bring her back alive at all."

They shivered a little. The cold here came on fast in the evenings.

"I call them one-person juries, people that just go out to kill or punish. It's a sorry state of affairs. She's lucky." He said it as though the sentence were a conversation ender.

It wasn't, in their mind. They weren't convinced that this got a pass just because other posses were far worse, and they were about to tell him as much, but only got as far as saying, "But, Sheriff--" before he brought them to a halt again.

"Hurley," he said. The word was a quiet warning. "Let yourself learn first."

They stared at him even after he turned around to walk away. For a long time, they stood dumbly and watched his back as he strode back towards the fire pit.

Again, this was not disobedience, they told themself as they covertly unlocked the wagon door while the others ate dinner a ways off. Bane said he wanted to bring his prisoners back alive? Then they were going to make sure this one stayed alive, whether he liked it or not.

The late amber light struggled in through the tiny windows, getting caught up in the smoky dust that rose from the floor. It was just bright enough to see the way the Raven lifted her hanging head, letting the long black hair fall away from where it covered her cheek. Without turning their way, she let her gaze slice across them.

After far too long of a pause, they opened with, "Hello," since it seemed like as good an introduction as any.

Behind the airtight line of her mouth, they could tell, her teeth were gritted. They could almost hear the scrape of them.

"That looks uncomfortable," they continued, stepping forward, because the alternative was going backwards, which they never did. "I'll get those ropes off of you if you'll let me."

They kept coming towards her until they saw her pulling her leg back slowly, winding up for a kick. "Hey. Easy." They took another small step forward, still out of her strike range. Their voice did not rise above a murmur. "Easy. There's no catch here, I promise. I'm still going to have to chain your ankles, but I'll untie you so you can move around. You just have to let me, please."

When they kept walking forward, nothing in her changed, including the intensity of her glare. But she didn't seem primed to kick them anymore either, which was good enough for them.

She tracked their every motion, twisting her neck around to look at them over her shoulder as they went to undo the knots at her wrists. When their fingers brushed hers, she flinched, curled her hands up into fists. But they didn't miss the long sigh and slumping of her shoulders when the bonds fell away, the way her eyes shut slowly.

They moved so that they were back in front of her and saw, without a moment to spare, the way she eyed the key to the cuffs that had just been locked around her legs. They pulled back the hand that held it just as she swiped at it, catching only the air. Well, that escape attempt had taken all of thirty seconds for her to concoct. The three-day journey back to Goldcliff would be exciting.

"Nice try," they commented. They dropped the key into their breast pocket and reached for their canteen. "Do you want water?"

She looked at it like it was the first she had ever seen. When they held it out a little further to her, though, she brought her gaze back to them and kept it there. It didn't move away even as she took the metal container from them and unscrewed the cap. They thought, finally, that they saw something else other than the bitterness in her, even if it wasn't gone. Her head was angled curiously, to eye them as though she were looking through a keyhole.

"I'm Hurley, by the way. I know you didn't ask, which was a bit rude, but I thought if you needed--"

"It's not going to work."

They stopped. In an instant, her lips had become stretched thin into a tight smile. It stayed unchanged on her face even as Hurley searched it for answers. She didn't open her mouth, but still she laughed a low, heavy laugh, dredged up like phlegm.

"What's not going to wo--"

She held up a finger to halt them as she brought up their canteen to her mouth and tipped her entire head back. They lost count of how many swallows she took, but they did wonder whether she was remembering to breathe. Finally, she pulled it away with a loud, refreshed exhale and tossed it back into their lap, half as heavy. "You," she began, casually wiping her mouth, "are trying to make this easier on yourself. You think if you throw me a bone or two I'll be docile and not give you any trouble while you're dragging me off to prison. Well, go fuck yourself, little Red." She dragged out the last sentence like she had all day to say it. Her voice had a sing-song tilt like a head rocking from side to side, slathered in mock sweetness.

They stayed sitting on their butt in front of her. Well. In all fairness, they didn't really know what else they should have expected. They ran a hand through the short puff of almost-auburn curls on the top of their head, of which they were suddenly quite conscious. "Fine, I'll go fuck myself," they mumbled. There was no truth to what she said, but they doubted there was any way to convince her of that. "Can I at least have your name, since I gave you mine? Though it seems like you forgot it already."

"My name is whatever you think it is, Red."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What have you heard me called? The Raven, I'm sure." She gave them a curl of her lips that was a smirk and a sneer and a snarl all at once. "What else?"

They matched her hard stare. "They call you Black Devil," they answered quietly.

She looked amused, but not surprised.

"You seem pretty nonchalant about all this."

"What? Getting harassed by people like you? Yeah, you could say I'm used to it."

They had to almost chuckle at that. "Harassment seems like a stretch. What did you expect anyway? You think people will just ignore the murder of an innocent man and an unbroken streak of robberies stretching from one end of the territory clear to the other? That's not the kind of thing you get away with forever. If not us, some other posse would've--"

"What did you say?"

For the second time, she brought them to a stop. While they had been speaking, the Raven had been staring at the spot of floor between her chained feet with slowly widening eyes. Her expression had gradually eroded into perplexion, her furrowed brow loosening into surprise. Now she turned to face Hurley directly.

They found their voice again. "What do you mean?"

"About the murder."

Her bewilderment was genuine. Hurley could not see how it could have been otherwise, with the way that she blinked fast, as though trying to clear her vision of sleep in the morning. But she should have known, at least, that the murder conviction was a possibility. "I said we can't just ignore it."

"Who..." The word came out cracked as her parched lips. She cleared her throat, then. She swallowed her spit and seemed to pull something back inside herself along with it, something that she had let spill out by accident. Her eyes didn't look quite so wild, even as she breathed more quickly. "So who do they say I killed?"

She hadn't a goddamn clue.

"Bank teller. A Mr. Miles Abernathy, from the First Bank of Goldcliff. He was killed during the burglary. A whole bunch of witnesses spotted someone with your description running from the place." They weren't sure if the last sentence was to inform the Raven or to give themself a reminder. "You don't remem--you didn't know?"

"Didn't hear that, no." She had been nodding along as they spoke, as though she were still learning how to nod.

"So you didn't do it?"

She acted as if she hadn't heard.

"Well..." They grasped at anything. "Well, if you didn't do it, that'll come out in the trial."

That brought her back, seemingly, to herself. Her eyes went cold and narrow again, squinting at more than seeing what was before her. "Get out," she muttered, not looking their way.

#hurloane #taz #taz balance #the adventure zone #the zone cast #taz fanfic #hurley #sloane #the wanted #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #western au

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kiwi-buns · 6 years

Text

5 Emotions

🎲 100. “Kiss me” from Prompt List

🎲 Genre: Fluff

🎲 Word Count: 3050 (un-revised)

🎲 Author’s note: Reposted! Sorry for deleting it so fast. I disliked it the moment it was posted LOL, but here it is again! I’ll follow the rules next time and just let a prompt be a prompt, even if it’s bad?? Otherwise, how else will I be able to overcome writer’s block without writing something crazy and then receiving feedback? So.. enjoy! This was honestly fun to write, and I’m thinking of turning it into a full story with better development between the emotions and OC and her crush!

🎲 Inspiration: Inside Out! Go watch it!

“She made it through the entire date... She did it! She did it!” The only rainbow-colored emotion, Happiness, jumps up and down with his hands raised in the air.

“No... We did it,” the green emotion interrupts, grabbing Happiness’ arm and lowering it back to his side. With a scowl, Happiness glares at Disgust, scrunching his bunny-shaped nose in annoyance. “Frankly, I don’t think she should have all the credit for our hard work. If not for us, she wouldn’t be able to come within 100 miles of him.”

Sadness bellows a sigh. "Disgust... You know, we emotions only have 50% control over her feelings... Right? Hope you had an idea, at least...”

Disgust twinges his thick brows and sneers. “I want to disagree —”

“But you can’t, because you said she’d think he was ugly and disgusting. And she fell head over heels for him!” Happiness chirps.

“Took me by surprise!” Surprise says, the orange emotion leaping from his chair. Surprise was not very fond of Baekhyun. The star football player is loved by all of the girls, even the popular ones. He can’t believe that Baekhyun had suddenly jumped from the most popular and hot girls on the cheer team, to you.

You’re just a regular girl. Sometimes shy, always sweet. But you don’t come close to the seemingly charismatic and popularity-hungry girls at your school. Maybe that’s what made Baekhyun like you.

Of course, you have no one but yourself to blame for your personality, because you aren’t aware of the emotions that run you, daily. You know you have emotions, but are these emotions you think of really the emotions that you are thinking of? Surely, the last thing that would come to mind is a bunch of colorful, male emoticons using an orb to process your feelings and reactions to things. If only you could’ve seen what they did when you found out you got your first period. That left an awful memory in at least half of the students’ and faculty members’ minds, and yours. And your emotions are all to blame, because they take 100% control when it’s that time of the month.

Which begs to question, why did Byun Baekhyun, the most handsome, charming, and heart-fluttering guy at your school who doesn’t seem to have one embarrassing moment in his life, want to date you? Does he want an embarrassing moment? Sadness came up with that inquisitive theory.

“Alright, alright, the show’s starting. Now, unless you nerds want me to take the steering wheel at the end of the date, then keep talking!” The red emotion, Anger, hovers his hand over a very, very important button. Anger is smirking softly, thinking of how you can just confront Baekhyun about his strange liking to you, about how he likes you when there’s tons of cool girls who’d actually drink the beer at parties when he invites them over, and then leave him hanging without a hug. Or maybe even a farewell kiss.

Baekhyun had been staring at your lips every so often as the two of you talked to each other. Every second, he’d been thinking about doing it. It’d be a bummer for Anger to mess it up. Anger comes with every feeling undesirable; hostility, displeasure, and annoyance. The most common was your annoyance with Baekhyun’s persistence.

Whenever Baekhyun called your name in the hallways, Anger would flare up and cause you to hide in the nearest girls’ room and make you think Baekhyun was playing with you because, “He really wants that bet money from his friends, doesn’t he?” It was a reasonable reaction, but sometimes Anger isn’t the best choice for controlling your reactions to Baekhyun’s genuine smiles, fleeting touches, and heart-fluttering compliments. Anger had to be tied to a chair most of the time when Baekhyun came around. Anger just couldn’t control his anger because he was sure Baekhyun was only toying with your emotions.

The colorful emotions dart their eyes over to the doubled screen, in which they call your eyes. It is the end of you and Baekhyun’s date. The sky is a dusky blue, marking the end of your romantic evening. Now, the two of you are standing in front of each other outside of your house. The date was as smooth as a strawberry milkshake doused in banana puree. All it needed was a cherry on the top.

“Oh, my!” Surprise throws his hand over his lips, shocked at the closeness of Anger’s finger to your outward emotion orb. Before the red emotion can touch it, Happiness leaps over the orb, tackling Anger to the ground. If there’s anyone who’s good at controlling your romantic feelings, it’s Happiness.

Happiness is the leader because he makes everyone happy. Including you. He is apart of the elements that makes every human’s life stimulating; joy, satisfaction, contentment, and most of all — pleasure. Without Happiness, you would have never been able to discover that Baekhyun actually liked you for real.

Valentine’s day had come around, and everyone was receiving these bizarre, crazy gifts. And you? You got nothing.

Anger was so mad, because “what the fuck, Baekhyun?” he barked. Surprise and Disgust was right behind him when you passed by Baekhyun in the hallway, and the handsome jock hadn’t spared you a single glance.

“Boys just talk to you for attention and then ignore you once they get it. Bleh, I knew it. I just knew he was too good to be true. ‘Boys are gross’ — why did she stop thinking this once she got in high school?” Disgust gagged in disappointment, having to excuse himself because of the nausea Baekhyun’s behavior caused.

And Surprise, who was always expecting something and got surprised when that expectation wasn’t met. “Oh, my! He just, passed by her! I know he can see her from his peripheral, she’s looking right at him! Is he seriously, literally, purposely avoiding her gaze? He’s about to pass. He might look last minute. Just wait for it and… He never looked. What a jerk!”

Sadness had put the tear soaked cherry on top. With a groan, he pursed his lips together to conceal their quivering. “Maybe it just… isn’t her time… Good girls come in last place, too, I guess.” Sadness was the one to actually make you feel sad, because he touched your outward emotion orb, which made your eyes well up in the slightest. Sadness felt even more sad even having to do that to you, but who smiles or throws up when their crush simply passes by them?

Sadness had to do it, to show you that you really liked Baekhyun. And if you still liked Baekhyun, Happiness could come in and restore that everlasting likeness by giving you hope. Sadness and Happiness, though being complete polar opposites of each other, were the perfect pair when it came to repairing your heart.

“Guys, just wait! He could have something planned for her later on,” Happiness bursted in. “You all think like children, she’s 18 for Amygdala’s sake.”

“You keep that up, I might mistake you for Hope, which what? Doesn’t exist!!!!!” Anger boiled before smoothing his sideburns down to calm himself.

Happiness touched your orb, and gave you more time to think about your reaction to Baekhyun’s behavior.

Maybe he didn’t see you. Maybe he had to go to class. Maybe he was busy chatting up with his friends that he hadn’t noticed you. The truth is, he was ignoring you on purpose. But not because he didn’t want to not give a lovestruck girl false hope of everlasting in a relationship with him. But because he had something planned for you later, and he wanted to build suspense. He wanted to surprise you.

When you’d received a text at the end of the day from Baekhyun to meet him on the football field, Surprise was not prepared for what you’d see. The orange emotion just thrusted himself onto your outward emotion orb when you saw it. The rest of the emotions watched the scene of you staring wide-eyed at the gigantic heart-shaped balloons, the howling of musical instruments playing a romantic tune, and Baekhyun’s handsome smile and beautiful lips inviting you in for a kiss.

Except, it had looked like Surprise fainted on your outward emotion orb. So Disgust pushed him off, declaring “that’s enough,” all the while bumping his big, green butt into the orb. This caused you to avoid Baekhyun’s lips and lean in to give him a hug instead. A perfect moment to kiss: bombed.

The emotions went to war with Disgust that day. “Why didn’t you kiss him!!!!!” They fell out, popcorn flying.

“Because,” Disgust smirked, with his hands on his hips. “Boys are gross.”

Presently, you and Baekhyun are standing on the curb in front of your house. The skies are pretty and dusky, the wind is blowing softly, and God, Byun Baekhyun looks so good. He’s wearing a pink sweater and a handsome smile that makes you melt every time. This is the perfect moment for a kiss, if your emotions would just pull themselves together this time. But they don’t seem to be doing so right now.

“Get off me. Your positivity is dampening my will to reject the boy,” Disgust sneers at Happiness.

“Guys… Things are getting awkward…” Sadness glares at the doubled screen. A few minutes have passed, and you and Baekhyun haven’t leaned into each other or hugged or anything. You become the shy girl again, tutting on heels as you stare at Baekhyun with flaming cheeks. Your emotions realize you need them, and they stop fooling around. All of them.

Happiness, Anger, Sadness, Surprise, and Disgust surround the orb.

These guys don’t know what to do. They’ve got all of their own special skills and talents, but who even knows how to initiate a kiss. Let alone, a kiss that feels real? Hugs, compliments, subtle touches are easy. Two or three of the emotions work together to make those. But a kiss? You’ve never kissed a boy before.

Sadness and Happiness try to come up with another one of their brilliant plans to make you kiss Baekhyun, but you’d cry tears of joy, and it’d make things… weird.

Disgust and Anger are out of the picture. The emotions don’t even know how that’d work. You’d bite Baekhyun’s lip, draw blood, and then throw up?

Surprise expects this kiss to be perfect because it’s your first. But you’re not an experienced kisser. He can’t make you go in for the kiss, knowing you probably wouldn’t do so well.

“Um…” Sadness scratches his head.

“This is making me nauseous,” Disgust sneers.

“I’m overwhelmed,” Surprise breathes.

“Why can’t she just do it? We always have to do the heavy work for her,” Anger growls, massaging his sideburns in meditation.

“Guys,” Happiness begins. The emotions stop buzzing and look up at the leader. He looks down at the glowing orb. “Maybe we should all touch it at the same time.”

“B-But… Wouldn’t she like… Combust?”

“That’s just stupid. She’d be angry, disgusted, sad, happy, and surprised all at the same time. What kind of foolery?”

“If she combusts, we’d all die… I…I’m nauseous even thinking about my own death.”

“Combust!? That’s possible!?”

“No, guys,” Happiness stops them. “Listen to yourselves. You all care about her, no matter what shade of color you are.” The emotions listen to Happiness. They notice how the root to all of their existences — anger, sadness, disgust, and surprise — is you. When they realize the reason they are working everyday to make you react, they realize they’re doing it because they love you. Otherwise, why haven’t they ceased to exist yet?

“That means something good exists in all of you. So look past what you are and do something good for her. She’s in love, right?” The emotions nod. “Love is everything, we are everything. Don’t cry, act dazed, throw up, or bite any lips.”

The emotions narrow their eyes on the orb, staring at it anxiously as their colorful hands come up to cup its edges. Happiness runs his eyes over all of his members and quirks a smile at their unique facial expressions. He calls to them, for one last word of reassurance. They lift their heads, their eyes glazing.

“Just love. Okay?”

The glazing in their eyes fade and is replaced with a twinkle of affection. All of the emotions’ direct their attention to the beaming orb, and their hands draw closer to it.

“I guess this is the end of the line, huh?” Baekhyun says, looking away from your house and at you again.

“I wish I didn’t have to go,” you whine softly. “But 9 PM was the deal.” An abashed giggle escapes your lips, your face heating up with embarrassment because of your parent’s strict curfew. Baekhyun’s warm hand cups your cheek. He caresses your cheek in a tender circle, making the plush jowl turn warm.

Your heart feels like it’ll melt when his smooth ministrations are paired with a soft, handsome smile. “That’s okay, kitten. As long as I get to see you tomorrow?” he asks, with a hopeful twinkle in his eyes.

“Of course!” Your lips stretch into a wide grin. “In fact, we can hang out all day tomorrow. I have nothing to do. Do you?” you ask, leaning your cheek more into his palm as you blink softly.

Baekhyun shakes his head, lips curving. He pokes his thumb at the corner of your lips. Your heart stutters when the soft pad of his thumb massages your bottom lip — slightly parting your pillows open. You gasp at his touch.

Baekhyun’s honey brown globes shine as he licks his lips — in his head wishing he could just kiss you already. Ever since you’d exchanged a kiss for a hug, he has been a little cautious with trying to rush things with you. He just wants your first moments to be perfect. Surprisingly, this is the first time the two of you will kiss. Because for whatever reason he still can’t figure out, that special moment got delayed a day ago on Valentine’s day.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos, tilting his head to the side. “And you’re mine.”

You conceal an abashed giggle. “I’m not…”

His fingers glide towards the back of your head and into your hair. All the while, he’s so unaware of how much that is affecting you. “If you aren’t, then I’ll have to figure out some way to make you mine.”

You realize he missed what you mean. Since he thinks you haven’t already made yourself his, you take the opportunity to ask. “How are you going to do that?” you question, taking a step closer to him.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he screws his lips up playfully. “I’ll buy you your favorite chocolates?”

“You’ve already done that a million times before,” you tease. “Plus, that makes me feel fat.”

“Ah,” he sighs, which causes you to giggle. “How about a strawber—” he stops himself, realizing he can no longer bribe you with your favorite foods. It worked in his favor so many times at first, but now your heart yearns for a little more than just innocent remarks and romantic gestures. “I’m out of ideas, kitten.” Baekhyun pouts and it’s the cutest thing.

You blow a raspberry at him.

“How can I, really? Can I tell you you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen? Can I take you all over the world? Buy you gifts, feed you all your favorite foods, take you on all the fancy dates you want?” Baekhyun’s hands come to your waist, cupping your sides gently. He whines. “Baby, how can I make you mine?”

“I like the way you think, Oppa,” you say, making the male’s lips stretch a little. “But why do all of that, when you can just...” You pause. Getting on your tippy toes, you reach Baekhyun's height perfectly. Your nose brushes against his on your way up, making you flustered. Baekhyun’s eyes are on your face as he scans your expression. His gaze is full of anticipation and hunger now.

You surprise yourself, not really knowing what comes over you for your forwardness. Baekhyun finds it so cute.

“I can just, what?” Baekhyun asks, a smirk ghosting his pretty lips as he breathes against your parted ones.

“Kiss me,” you breathe.

Baekhyun obliges immediately. His smile fades slowly as he draws himself closer and glues his lips to yours. Your eyes shutter closed and you feel a ton of things all at once as he kisses you. You can barely control your emotions as you wrap your arms around Baekhyun’s neck and press your body flat against his. One hand cups your nape while the other wraps around your body. For the first time in forever, you can’t tell what you’re feeling.

That is, until your emotions bind together to tell you that you’re in love with Byun Baekhyun. And all of those moments of doubt and built-up suspense lead to a kiss that was real and made your emotions go haywire with love.

“Girls, we did it!” Joy cheers, detaching her hands from the orb to shake Shock. Shock’s face is still in a pause because of you asking Baekhyun to kiss you. Joy falls when Obnoxious screeches and pushes her down. Getting back up with a still bright smile, Joy beams. “I can’t wait to plan the wedding!”

“How did such a shy little kitten become so bold?” Sombre asks, shaking her head and removing her hands from Baekhyun’s orb.

Joy laughs. “That doesn’t matter anymore! We got her to kiss him!”

“Something’s wrong,” Anxiety shakes her head.

“What is it?” Obnoxious shouts.

“Hell if I know,” Anxiety says before walking away from the other emotions circling Baekhyun’s orb without an explanation.

...

Can you guess which emotion is which EXO member?

Hint: one is Junmyeon, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, Jongin, and Sehun!

#baekhyun fluff #baekhyun romance #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanficti #baekhyun scenari #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun imagines #exo imagine #exo imagines #exo scenarios #byun baekhyun #kiwi-spice

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branlovestowrite · 7 years

Text

Complicating Factors: Chapter 2

This is my work in progress fic, which I have only been posting on fanfiction.net. After 12 chapters, my muse has fizzled out. I hope by revising & reposting this, I can get inspired again. Your comments and suggestions (chill vibes only!) are welcome and encouraged!

Complicating Factors

Rating: M for language and smut in later chapters

Summary: Emma Swan is a single mother trying to contact her ex and father of her child, Neal Cassidy. While she expected some awkwardness when meeting Neal’s mother, Milah Gold, she never expected the undeniable attraction she feels toward Milah’s younger boyfriend, Killian Jones. No Magic, Modern AU. Captain Swan.

Chapter 1 on Tumblr here or all chapters FF.net

Emma left the boutique and headed to pick up Henry. After not seeing her son for more than a day, she was almost as excited as he was at pickup. He ran up to her and leapt into her arms, giving her a big hug. Emma treasured these moments, knowing he wouldn't be little forever.

Mary Margaret walked up to Emma and Henry with a smile. "Looks like some little boy is happy to see his mommy."

Emma smiled and looked at Henry. "Do you know who she could be talking about?"

"Me!" Henry wore a big grin as he said this.

Emma gave him a kiss on the cheek and set him down on the ground. "You are getting too big to be held, kid."

"David told me he talked to you," Mary Margaret said. "So we'll see you Friday night for dinner?"

"Yep," replied Emma. "What can I bring?"

"Nothing. Just two of my favorite people."

They had this conversation every time she was invited over, so instead of arguing, Emma gave Mary Margaret a hug and gathered Henry's backpack. "Come on, kid. Let's go home."

Back at the apartment, Emma started on dinner, making spaghetti, Henry's favorite meal. She had just started boiling water for the noodles when she heard a knock at the door. Looking through the peephole, she saw her neighbor, Ruby, standing outside. She opened the door and let her in.

Ruby was not only a neighbor, but also Emma's best friend. She was effervescent and one of the most caring and generous people Emma knew. She was also incredibly fun to be around, often saying things that others wouldn't. Ruby had no filter, and Emma loved her honesty.

Ruby had brown hair that fell long down her back. Her eyes were a bright greenish-hazel, and she was perhaps one of the most beautiful women Emma had ever seen, with porcelain skin and an elegant, tall figure. Her fashion sense was impeccable, and she was always pressing Emma to dress more boldly.

Emma and Ruby hugged, and Henry ran up crying "Aunt Ruby!" as he jumped into her arms.

After they settled, Emma resumed preparing dinner, and Ruby sat at the small dining set just off the narrow kitchen. Henry returned to the living room, where he was playing with play dough on the coffee table.

"So," Ruby began, "I couldn't help but notice that you came back later than usual last night, and dressed to the nines. Did you have a date?"

Emma laughed. "I wasn't aware you were stalking me."

Ruby blushed. "Well, not me, but I heard from Mrs. Roberts across the hall. You know how nosy she can be. But you still need to answer me. Were you on a date?"

"Sort of. Mu put my picture up on Tinder to catch a skip. She had me meet him at a bar and keep him occupied until she felt the time was right."

"Oh." Ruby said, her tone deflated. "I was really hoping you might have met someone."

"I don't date. You know this. I did meet a gorgeous guy at the bar, but he's taken."

"Do you know that for sure?"

"Yes," Emma said with a sigh.

"Hmm..." Ruby said, looking at Emma quizzically. "There's more to this story. Go on. Spill."

Emma told Ruby how she met Killian and their enjoyable, but brief conversation. When Ruby heard his profession, she made Emma pause so she could look him up on her phone. She found his faculty profile and fawned over the headshot adorning the page.

"Ding dong! He is gorgeous. And he's British?"

"Yes," Emma replied, "but you haven't heard the rest of the story." She proceeded to tell Ruby about her encounter with Killian that afternoon, and how he was dating Neal's mother. She did not say the word 'Grandma' yet, and asked Ruby to do the same, as she was still trying to determine how to explain this to Henry.

"Wow," Ruby said. "Well, it's a shame he is taken, but major respect to Milah. I've got nothing but love for an older woman dating a hot, younger man. I can only hope I will be as successful in my middle age."

Emma couldn't help but laugh at Ruby's comment. "I think you'd like her. She's possessive of Killian, but in all other ways seems like a nice enough person. She's really excited about meeting Henry. I'm still not sure about it, though. I hardly know anything about her. What if she breaks his heart?"

"So maybe you don't tell him at first that she's Neal's mother? Just introduce her as you would a friend. See how they get along."

"Maybe," Emma said, turning the suggestion over in her mind.

"I don't think it's ever a bad idea for a kid to have more people in their life to love them."

"Killian said she's a good person, but, then again, I barely know him."

"Yeah, but you feel like you can trust him. In fact, I think there a quite a few things you'd like to feel with him."

Emma blushed as she heard the innuendo. "Don't encourage me, Ruby! I don't need to be feeding my attraction to this man."

"I did nothing of the sort," Ruby said with a smirk.

"Bloody bastard!"

Killian paused as he heard Milah's exclamation from inside their apartment. He stood at the door, not sure what kind of situation he was walking into. He and Milah had more than their share of rows in the ten years they'd been together, and he wasn't eager for another. He'd almost decided turn around and leave again, when she flung the door open from inside.

"There you are!" He felt relief when he heard her tone. She was angry, but it was not directed at him.

"Aye," he said, stepping into the apartment closing the door behind him. "I heard your curse from the hallway. Are you alright?"

"Yes," she sighed. "I just tried calling Robert. I told him I needed to find Neal, and he went on a tirade about how I drove our son away and that I never deserved to see him again. I didn't even get a chance to tell him about Henry." She choked on her last words as her tears poured forth.

Her tears prompted Killian to pull her into his arms and rub her back soothingly. "Well, Robert is a bloody bastard. You and I both know that the rift between you two began long before I came into the picture. Neal told me as much. If Robert hadn't been such a controlling jerk, things might have been different."

"But I didn't help things, behaving the way I did. Taking up with my son's friend, behind my husband's back. Maybe this is my fault."

Killian sighed. This was her constant torment. She blamed herself for Neal's disappearance. She said she did not regret meeting Killian or their relationship, but the love they shared was always warring with her desire to see her son again.

"No, love," he said. "It is not your fault. Neal was an adult when he made his choice. And Robert was a cruel father and husband. Leaving him was the best thing you could do for yourself. Look at the life you have built now. You have a successful shop, you're healthier than you've ever been, and you have a roguishly handsome boyfriend." He looked down at her and gave her a wink.

She gave a small laugh through her tears. "You should be with someone like her. Not an old woman past her prime."

He knew she meant Emma. Milah wasn't dumb. She saw the way Killian and Emma looked at one another. Although he couldn't deny the attraction he felt to the young blonde, his heart only belonged to Milah.

"You, darling," he said as he moved his hand to cup her cheek, "are the farthest thing from old. You are brilliant and vivacious and I love you completely." He punctuated this point by giving her a gentle kiss before pulling away to look in her eyes.

The look on Milah's face showed that she was not ready to let this topic go. "I'm 51, Killian. I'm not having any more kids. In fact, as we found out yesterday, I am a grandmother. You should be with someone who can give you children." She pulled away from his embrace and crossed the room. "I know you're attracted to Emma. She could give you the family you've always wanted."

"I only just met the lass. And now you're trying to push me to have children with her?!" His muscles tensed, ready for the inevitable argument. "Why do you always feel like you're not good enough for me?"

"Because I'm not!" She yelled. "You say you're content with just me, but I see the look you get when we see a cute child. You want children of your own someday, and you won't get that with me. And now there's going to be an adorable grandson in my life, which will only make me feel guiltier that I can't give that to you."

"Please, Milah, don't do this. I only want you. You are the love of my life. When I met you, my life began."

She sighed. "I'm sorry. Let's not fight." She'd conceded this time, but Killian knew she was not agreeing with him. This was the recurring theme to their arguments. He felt like he would never be able to convince her that she was all he needed. Her self-loathing would be their undoing.

On Friday morning, Emma dropped Henry off at school and headed to work. She was greeted by Mu and their boss, Leroy. Leroy was the owner of Grumpy's Bail Bonds. He'd named the company after a nickname he'd earned as a child, due to his sullen temper. But anyone who really knew Leroy saw that, underneath his rough exterior, he was a kind man who looked out for those he cared for. This morning, however, he was fully living up to his moniker.

"About time you got here, sister," he said in lieu of a greeting.

"It's 15 minutes before we open. I wasn't aware I needed to arrive any earlier than that."

"You don't, but I need to talk to you, and you know how I hate waiting."

"My apologies," she said as she tucked her purse away in her desk drawer. "What's going on?"

"Grumpy here wants to yell at us for being too good at our jobs," Mu said, handing Emma a mug of coffee.

Emma took in the smell of the strong brew. "OK Leroy, shoot. What's got you riled up today?"

Leroy's face took on a semblance of a smile. Both Emma and Mu knew that he preferred people who wouldn't cower at his gruff manner. "Princess over there is right," he replied. "You two are good at your jobs. That Tinder sting you set up the other night was brilliant. You caught a guy that would have given even some of my toughest agents the slip, and you did it with very little mess."

"Hey!" Mu protested. "Don't call me Princess. And I'm your toughest agent, we both know this."

"You got me, sister, you're a tough one. And blondie here looks like she might give you a run for your money."

"So what's the problem?" Emma asked.

"The problem is that I can't have you writing up contracts and being up front if you're gonna be doing jobs like that. You girls got lucky with this Jack guy, but most skips are smarter than him and will know not to hit on the girl who works for the company they're hiding out from."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that, effective immediately, you are promoted to bond agent. Don't sit up front anymore. Take Mu's office for now, and start looking for a new admin."

"What kind of salary is this new job gonna pay?"

"You work on commission now, sister. But I'll keep you on the payroll as my admin part time, until you get a good rhythm. I know you've got your boy to look after. But find someone as good as you to pick up the slack the rest of the time."

Emma was both excited and anxious about this change of events. She grabbed her purse and the few things she kept at her desk and moved them to the office Mu used occasionally. Mu followed her, carrying the mug of coffee she had given Emma earlier.

"Alright! Drink up, because we have some work to do. I'll stick with you for the first couple of cases, but you'll be out on your own before you know it."

"You know, I never was much of a fan of coffee. I love the smell, but hate the taste. And I think maybe my new job requires something a little more celebratory. Let's go get a hot cocoa."

Mu laughed at her friend. "You can have your hot cocoa with cinnamon. I'll stick with black coffee." She took the mug back from Emma and drank the now tepid brew in one gulp. "Come on. You're buying my next one."

After his fight with Milah Thursday night, Killian slept on the couch, which left a painful crick in his neck Friday morning. He didn't have class on Fridays, but he'd arranged to meet with one of his graduate students, Krista, to discuss her thesis. She worked at a coffee shop downtown, and had emailed the night before to ask if he would be willing to meet her there before her shift began. He occupied a table near the door, waiting for her to arrive, and thumbed through his emails.

Hearing the bell above the door, he looked up to see if Krista had arrived. It was not Krista he saw, but instead Emma Swan. The accusations Milah and thrown at him the night before came flooding back when he saw Emma. She was undoubtedly beautiful, but there was something else about her. A vibrancy that hid behind the high walls she had built for herself. He realized with a start that he saw the same things in Milah when they first met. He felt like a cad at that thought. Was he no better than this, that he would toss her away for a younger woman?

Lost in thought, he wasn't aware he was staring until someone spoke to him. It was not Swan, but rather her companion, a young Asian woman who managed to look very intimidating despite her short stature.

"Hey buddy," she said. "What's with the staring at my friend? I know she's hot, but gawking is one of her turn offs."

Emma blushed, her cheeks turning a delicate pink. Killian couldn't help thinking how lovely she looked when she did that.

"Mu, give him a break," she said. "I know him, sort of. This is Killian Jones."

"Oh, well that changes things." Mu extended her hand. "How you doing? I'm Mu."

Killian gave her hand a shake, noting her firm grip. "Mu? That's unusual."

"Don't get her started," Emma chuckled. "What brings you to this part of town? We're not near the university or Milah's shop."

"I'm actually meeting a student. She works here, and asked me to meet her before her shift to discuss her thesis. I was promised free coffee, but she appears to be running late."

"I don't know if I'd trust you around coffee," Emma quipped.

"I am not normally so clumsy, I assure you."

Killian noticed Mu looking at him skeptically. "It was nice to meet you, British guy, but we need to get our drinks and get back to work. Lots to do today."

"Of course," he replied. "Nice to meet you as well. See you later, Swan."

Emma said nothing, but gave him a tight smile as she turned to pick up her drink from the counter. Her behavior at their parting puzzled Killian exceedingly. Did she realize how he felt about her? Did she perhaps feel the same way? Despite his better judgement, he couldn't help but feel pleased at the thought that he was not the only one feeling this attraction. He sighed. He needed to get this woman out of his head. He had no desire to be unfaithful to Milah, no matter how she may try to push him away.

Saturday morning came sooner than Emma would have liked. She'd spent Friday evening with Mary Margaret and David trying to figure out how to tell Henry who Milah was. They agreed with Ruby's suggestion of not telling Henry right away that Milah was his grandma. The plan made Emma uneasy, however. After her rough childhood and all the lies Neal told her, she detested lying to anyone, even through omission.

But, it was still the best option, so while Henry was watching his cartoons and eating his cereal, Emma stepped into her room and called Milah.

"Hello," Milah said.

"Milah, hi. This is Emma Swan."

"Yes, Emma. Are you and Henry still going to be able to come by today?" Milah's tone betrayed her anxiety.

"Yes, we are still planning on it, but I was hoping to talk with you about that."

"Sure."

"Would you be upset if we went slow and didn't tell Henry right away that you're his grandma? Maybe just introduce you as Milah for now and see how you get along?"

Emma heard Milah take a deep breath. "OK," she said. "I get it. You don't know me, and even though you haven't told me the whole story, I get the impression that my son hurt you badly. If it makes you more comfortable, I'm glad to do it."

"Thank you." Emma's voice resounded with relief.

"Perhaps some other time you and I should have dinner just the two of us and we can talk a little more about Neal. I think we both have stories to share."

"I'd like that."

"I need to go, dear. I have to get down to the shop. See you at 10?"

"Yes, we'll be there."

"Great, see you then," Milah said and then hung up.

Killian walked over to Milah after she hung up. She seemed tense, attempting to restrain her feelings.

"Love?" He asked, tentatively.

"She doesn't want to tell him I'm his grandma. Not right away." Her eyes were cloudy with unshed tears.

"That... that doesn't seem like a very unreasonable request."

"It's not."

"Then what's got you upset?"

"I can't help thinking that this is all my fault. Emma finding me has brought back the guilt over Neal that I've repressed all these years."

"Milah, love... you can't shoulder all the blame."

"No! You don't get to tell me that. If I hadn't been so weak, maybe Neal wouldn't have run off. Maybe I would have been a part of his life when he met Emma. I could have helped care for Henry when he was a baby."

"If circumstances were different, I very much doubt Neal would ever have met Emma."

She sniffled. "I suppose you're right. I just wish I knew what he did to her. And I wish I could get in touch with him."

"Well, if you've had no luck with Robert, perhaps I should pay him a visit."

Milah laughed at that thought. "Don't you dare. He's liable to rip your heart from your chest if you go near him. You know Robert is not a forgiving man."

"Aye, but if it would save you some pain, I'd gladly suffer the consequences."

"You're a good man, Killian Jones."

"If you say so, love." He pocketed his wallet and grabbed his keys. "Well, I best be off. I need to take your car in for service. After that I'll head over to campus and do some grading. Stay out of your hair."

"What? You aren't going to be there with me?"

"I wasn't planning on it. It's not really my place."

"Please, Killian, I need you there. I need you to support me. And I am afraid things will be awkward with Emma if you're not there."

Not as awkward as if I am there, Killian thought, but he did not voice that opinion. "If you truly feel you need me, love, I will be there. But I do need to take your car in for service."

"OK, do that and then come back, please. I'll text you and let you know where we'll be."

He put his arm around her waist and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead. "I will see you soon."

At 10:00, Emma parked the bug outside of the shop. She told Henry they were going to have lunch with a new friend of hers. Despite his young age, Henry loved spending time with adults, and he was excited to meet a new friend. Emma helped him unbuckle and climb out of his car seat. They walked in the shop, Emma keeping a tight grasp on her son's hand, worried he might break something.

Milah spotted them from behind the counter as she was speaking to one of her employees. She smiled and walked over.

Emma smiled down at Henry and said "Henry, this is my friend, Milah."

"Hi," Henry responded in a quiet voice.

"Hello there, Henry," Milah responded. She stuck out her hand and Henry took it, tentatively giving it a shake.

"So," Milah said, turning back to Emma. "There is a very nice park a few blocks down from here. I thought we might go there and play for a bit before we have lunch."

"Sounds great."

"Killian had to take my car for an oil change. Let me just grab my phone and let him know where to meet us."

"Killian is coming?"

"Oh, is that OK? I'm sorry, I should have asked. We live together, and I just figured since you already knew him, it might be nice to have a friendly face around."

"It's fine," Emma replied. "I mean, I don't know him that well. We only met the other day, but I'm ok with him joining us."

"Great," said Milah. Pointing toward the door she asked "shall we?"

Two hours later, Emma, Henry, Milah, and Killian were sitting down to lunch at a small diner near the park. Emma and Henry both ordered a grilled cheese, Emma's with a side of onion rings. As they waited on their food, Henry was pestering Killian with questions about boats. Henry was obsessed with boats and the water.

Milah and Henry got along very well. She played with him on the playground, pushing him on the swing and following him through the castle structure that had a maze of passages. Emma looked on from a nearby bench, satisfied to have a break from shadowing her rambunctious son. Killian sat next to her, and they fell into easy conversation. When Milah and Henry re-emerged, Killian was talking about his time as a sailor, which set Henry off on his current line of questioning.

Milah smiled at Henry, truly enchanted with the boy. Her manner was easier today, showing less of the possessiveness she'd displayed earlier in the week. While Henry and Killian were deep in conversation, Emma turned to Milah.

"Any word on getting in contact with Neal?"

"I tried calling Robert multiple times, but he's not being helpful. I suppose I'm going to have to pay him a visit."

"Is your relationship with your ex husband tense?"

"Yes," Milah sighed. "I was not the best wife." She looked at Killian uneasily. "I was unfaithful. Robert claims my infidelity was why Neal disappeared. I don't deny that I could have been a better mother, but I was not the only one at fault."

"What do you mean?" Emma asked.

Milah sighed again. "Killian," she said, "why don't you show Henry the pictures on the wall back there. There are some big ones of boats he may like."

Henry heard her words and cried out "boats! Yes please?! Can I go see them?!"

Killian looked at the boy who was already pulling him from the booth. "If it's ok with your mum, lad." He pointed to the area Milah referred to, which was clearly visible from their table.

Emma nodded. "That's fine."

"Awesome!" Henry exclaimed. 'Awesome' was his favorite word.

When they were out of earshot, Milah turned to Emma. "Robert wasn't always a lawyer. He used to be a tailor. He was good at his work, but quite cowardly. He'd get shortchanged and swindled by customers all the time, and his business was failing because of it. I married him because I thought I loved him, but I grew to resent him. We were always struggling with money, and I wanted him to stand up for himself.

I think he decided to go to law school because he was tired of being pushed around. Somewhere along the way he became horribly cruel and controlling. It served him well as a lawyer, but the more powerful he got, the more controlling he was, to both Neal and myself. I didn't feel like I could leave him, but I was miserable. I let my misery cloud my judgment."

"Wow," Emma said. "Neal told me he had a crappy home life, but he never gave me any details."

"I miss my son every day, and it hurts me to know that he might have hurt you."

She clearly wanted to Emma to reply with her own confession, but Emma wasn't ready. "He did," she said. "I'll tell you about it another time. Let's not ruin our day."

Milah opened her mouth as if she wanted to ask more, but promptly closed it. "You're right, dear."

Henry and Killian returned soon after, and they all enjoyed their food. Emma had to admit that this diner made one of the best grilled cheeses she'd ever had.

After their meal, Henry was rubbing his eyes. Emma smiled at her little boy. "I think I need to get this one home for a N-A-P."

"Mom," he said, sounding more like a teenager than a 4-year old. "I know that's just another word for nap." He yawned. "I'm not even tired."

"Well I am, kid. And besides, we're having dinner at Roland's house tonight. You don't want to be so tired that you can't play, do you?"

He seemed to consider her point. "OK, but just a short one."

Milah smiled and Killian choked on a laugh at this exchange.

They all stood from the table. Milah kneeled down and held out her hand to Henry. "I am so glad I got to meet you, Henry."

Henry looked at her hand for a moment, and then threw his hands around her neck. She was startled by the hug, but easily returned it. He then pulled away and threw his arms around Killian's legs. He chuckled and leaned down to pat Henry's back.

Emma smiled at her son. He was so affectionate. She loved his big heart. "Thank you, for lunch," she said, turning to Milah. "I'll call you this week and we can talk about what to do next."

"I can't wait," Milah said, beaming at Emma and her son.

Killian laced his hand with Milah's and gave it a squeeze as they watched Emma and Henry walk out of the restaurant.

#cs fanfics #cs fanfic #cs ff #ouat fanfiction #ouat ff #killian jones #emma swan #milah #complicating factors fanfic

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symbianosgames · 7 years

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The following blog post, unless otherwise noted, was written by a member of Gamasutra’s community. The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the writer and not Gamasutra or its parent company.

Reposted from the Award Winning* Thimbleweed Park Dev Blog. *Awards TBD.

During last week's Thimbleweed Park podcast, I asked Gary and David what scares them the most about the project. I find this a useful exercise to do with the team to see what they are worried about. The answer always changes as the project progresses and new worries come and go.

The common theme from the three of us was the amount of work there is to do. It's daunting. But as I've said several times on this blog, that's normal. I've never not been daunted by the amount of work facing me on any game I've done. If you're not daunted by the amount of work, there's probably something wrong and you need to be pushing harder. Be daunted and push yourself right up to the point of being overwhelmed.

During the podcast I mentioned my concern about money and seeing the bank account go down each month. This was somehow turned into "we're running out of money", which is far from the truth. I am worried about money, anyone running a project should be.

The thing is: I worry about things so they don't become problems, and worrying about money is one of those things. If we didn't worry about money everyday, we would run out of money. It sneaks up on you.

Seeing $500,000 in your bank account can make you cocky. It can seem like an endless supply of cash and more money than most people (including me) have ever seen in their bank account. But you have to treat that $500,000 like it's $5,000 or even $500. Every dollar matters.

It's why I like to have a budget.

It is one of the advantages of having a publisher, they will poke your budget full of holes and challenge your assumptions. The downside is, they will also push your budget down and it's not uncommon for developers to then fake the budget so they get the deal (which their studio is often dependent on to stay alive). It's not malicious, they (and I have done this as well) just convince themselves they can make it for less, and that's often not true.

I want to know where every dollar is being spent from here until the end of the project. You start putting line items into the budget and you instantly see your money starting vanish. A few line items later and you're out of money. It's sobering and a necessary process. It really makes you appreciate spending anything.

We had budgets back at Lucasfilm, but we were very isolated from the gory ramifications of those numbers. I could make a budget and if I went over by 20%, I might get a stern talking to, but it's not like people weren't going to be paid. When you're running your own company and project with your own money and you run out, people don't get paid and they don't like that. In the real world, they stop working.

I do a first pass budget before I start designing. I often know how much money I have and I want to see how many people and how long I have before that money is gone. If I know I have 15 months and can afford 5 people, then that helps me in scoping the design. If I have 24 months and can have 100 people, that's another scope.

Once I've done the preliminary budget, we'll start designing and then enter pre-production, all the while, adjusting the budget as I know more. When pre-production is done, we can look at the amount of work and do a final budget based on the schedule. Budget and Schedule are two different things that feed into and help refine each other. You can't do one without the other, but they aren't the same thing.

A schedule lists everything you have to make and who is going to make it and when. A budget takes all those people and how much they cost and tells you what the project is going to cost.

Below is the current budget for Thimbleweed Park. It's what I like to call a living budget. You'll notice that the first monthly column is October, not the beginning of the project. Money spent is "water under the bridge" and is only relevant for historical and educational reasons. What I want to focus my attention on is how much we have and how much we need to spend going forward.

Anyone who has a real background in accounting is probably having spasm right now. There are much better ways to do this, but I'm not an accountant and neither are most indie devs. This is a much simplified way of budgeting and it works for me.

Each month I look at what we spend versus what we expect to spend then make any adjustments to future costs. I then remove the current month column, look at the projected total and the bank balance. If there is more in the bank then we're projected to spend, then we're OK, back to programming and designing.

Let's go through the budget.

First up are the people. Gary and I are working for peanuts (honey roasted). Neither of us can afford to work for free for 18 months and we're making about a quarter of what we could get with "real jobs" but we do need to eat and pay rent.

Everyone else is working below what they could get, but I do think it's important to pay people. I don't feel getting people to work for free ever works out and usually ends badly (and friendships) or you "get what you pay for." The reality is that when someone works for you for free, you aren't their top priority. They may say you are, they may want you to be, but you rarely are and you end up dealing with missed deadlines and hastily done work.

It's important to have team members that can work as professionals and you pay people that are professionals. You should respect people's time and talent and pay them for their work. It's what the Kickstarter money was for after all.

Everyone is budgeted in at 5 days a week and 8 hours a day as we're trying to keep normal hours. I have no doubt these hours will go up towards the end of the project, but I try to never budget crunch time, it's a dangerous precedent. It's a cost we will have to manage down the road, either by hiring someone new, spending for extra time, shifting resources or cutting content. There is enough slop built into the rest of the budget to cover some of this, but I never want ink to paper, because then crunch becomes real.

We do have two additional artists budgeted and yet to be hired. We don't know if we'll need both of them, but I've budgeted them just in case. We might need help with animation and there are also a lot of close-ups (telephones, control panels, bulletin boards, etc) and ancillary screens that aren't on Mark's schedule right now.

There is a line item for an additional writer. We made the decision to go with full Monkey Island style dialogs and I don't feel confident I can get all those done with everything else I need to be doing (like budgeting).

Testers, testers, testers. One of the most important and often forgotten roles in a game. It's money well spent because not testing will cost you down the road in emergency patches, dissatisfied players and crappy review scores. The original budget had 3 testers, but I added a 4th when we added the Xbox. I over budgeted for testing and it's an area that will probably come in under budget (ass, prepare to be bitten).

It's important to distinguish between testing and beta testing as they serve very different functions. The paid testers on a project are there to (primarily) find and help squash bugs. This is a paid role because it's grueling work and, quite frankly, not a lot of people are really good at it. Testers don't just "play the game". They are "testing" the game and that often involves countless hours of playing the same 5 minutes over and over, trying to get an elusive bug to appear. Testers need to write clear and concise bug reports and endlessly regress bugs to make sure they are fixed. It's a hard job. Good testers are worth every penny.

Beta testing is different. Beta testers (an unpaid role) are still finding bugs, but what you're really looking for are big picture issues, like puzzle complexity, game flow and story clarity. You want beta testers to "play" the game like normal players will and get feedback (mostly through silently watching, analytics and debriefs). You want to turn 50 beta testers loose and see where they go and what they do.

Next we come to Music and SFX. Musicians usually charge by the minute, so if you're going to have 15 minutes of unique music and they charge $1000 a minute (not uncommon), then your budget is $15,000. That $1,000/minute includes a lot of exploration and revisions and mixing. If you're saying "Hey, I'll do your music for free" you need to ask yourself if you're willing to spend weeks exploring different styles and tracks while getting constant feedback, then spend months composing it all, then additional months of making little revisions and changes, then producing 3, 4 or 5 flawless mixes. It's a lot of work and all the while, you have to hit deadline after deadline. And this is all for a relatively low budget game.

Next up on our journey through budget land is Translations, Voice Recording and Mobile. I'm kind of rolling the dice on these. I don't have a good idea what these will cost so I've padded the hell out of them and I expect this is where a lot of the slop will come from to fill other leaks. I got bids for voice acting and translation then added 30%. I have no idea on iOS and Android. I just chose a big number. This is where the voodoo of budgeting really plays out. If we had a producer, they would be spending more time nailing these numbers down. I've added enough extra that I feel comfortable.

On to Events. This is for stuff like PAX, Indiecade, E3 and other events we might want to show the game at. All this is really marketing and PR. It's also where we will pull extra money from if we get in trouble down the road. Not showing the game will screw its long term hopes, but not finishing the game is worse. Plus, it's a number we can scale up and down as needed and it's far enough down the road that we'll have better idea of how we're really doing.

Then it's on to the really exciting part of the budget: Legal, Accounting, Software, and the always important Misc. Assuming we don't get sued, these are fairly predictable and fixed expenses, but don't forget them.

And finally, the Kickstarter physical rewards. We have a fixed budget that was based on our final Kickstarter pledge numbers. It's probably around 25% too high, but that gives us some flexibility to make a better boxed copy or use the money elsewhere on the project. Or, we might have estimated wrong.

At the bottom is a total. I look at that each month and look at the bank balance. So far, we're fine. But that's because I worry.

One thing that is not on this spreadsheet is the money that is currently coming in from Humble Bundle and new backers. It's not significant, but it's not inconsequential either. I choose the leave it off the budget calculations because it provides this small margin of error.

We are planning on some new stretch goals in the next few months, and those are also not in the budget because if we don't make the goals, they won't become expenses. If we do, then all the numbers will be adjusted to account for the new work.

It's also possible that we'll move resources around, spend less on an artist and add a programmer. Budgets are living documents.

One thing to note, and I'm sure it will raise some eyebrows, is the monthly burn rate. That's a lot of money to spend each month. No one line item is very large, but they add up and can catch you by surprise. This is a pretty barebones project (but not scrappy) and it still costs $20K-$30K a month. It why when I look at other Kickstarters asking for very little money and they have a three page long team list, I get skeptical.

I hope this was informative. There are a lot of ways to do budgeting and I'm sure there are better ways, but this has always worked for me.

Please be respectful that we're sharing a lot of information with you, not only to be transparent, but also to educate and inform. This is how games are made, they take time, cost money and it's a very messy process.

- Ron Gilbert

#IFTTT #Blogger

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adventuresloane · 4 years

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The Wanted (Revised Hurloane Fic) -- Ch. 4

“They had nearly as many names as they had stories told about them. Ram. Raven. Red. Devil. Deputy. Outlaw. Short ‘n Long. Ghosts of the Rapids.”

Hurley’s a bounty hunter, the Raven is an outlaw, and the desert is a lonely place.

(The 50k+ Old West Hurloane AU Where Hurley Becomes A Thief Too that no one asked for. Updates every Friday. Edited and reposted from an old version of the story–more significant changes to come in later chapters. T for non-graphic violence and discussions of death/injury/trauma.)

Read on AO3

Other Chapters

"Absolutely no way."

"Oh, yes."

"Nope. Nope. You can't possibly hit that thing."

"Bet you anything I can."

Sloane snickered. "I'll take that bet. That bird is at well over a hundred meters away, faster than shit, and you're going at it with a goddamn revolver instead of a proper hunting rifle. Not possible."

"Shh, don't let it hear you." Their heart pounded against the ground like a closed fist as they lay flat on their belly, fixed on the roadrunner. Without thinking about it, they did what they always did, tilting the gun up an inch for every twenty meters. Just like hitting clay. They aimed for the question mark-shaped neck. Next to them, Sloane, meanwhile, had rolled onto her back with her hand flopped lazily over her stomach. Her neck was arched all the way back to look at the bird with a droll grin. She was looking at the thing upside-down. What did she know anyway?

"It's not gonna hear shit from this distance, which is, I'll remind you, very fucking far," she said.

"It could! You don't know!"

"You manage to hit that thing, I'll eat my ha--"

They shot, and the bird dropped with nary a squawk.

Hurley popped up from the ground. First they smiled at the still dark lump on the ground very fucking far in front of them, then, without changing their expression, turned to a gaping Sloane. When she glanced their way, they raised their eyebrows and swung their revolver by the trigger guard, back and forth, on one finger. Admittedly, they made a show of milking it.

She snapped her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes. Then, without so much as a sigh, she removed her hat, walked over towards the unlit fire pit, held it for a moment over the skillet sitting nearby, and, with a certain solemnity, dropped it.

They laughed. She didn't, but she smiled in this particular way they had come to recognize, where she wrinkled her nose, as though it were a grin repurposed from a failed sneer.

"I'll go grab the bird," they said.

She watched them the whole time they were walking back. When they got close enough, they could see the studying glint in her eye, her head cocked.

"Hey," she said. A second later, she tossed an empty can into the air. They drew and picked it off, hearing the satisfying tang as the bullet connected.

They took a moment to watch it fall to earth, diverted from its original course, before looking back at her. "Whoo!" They pumped their fists in the air, despite the fact that a carcass still swung from one.

She chuckled. "Damn." Holding her hand out toward the bird, she said, "Give me that." When they handed it over, she started plucking the feathers.

"You don't have to do that."

"It's fine. You ever had roadrunner before?"

"Nope. Have you?"

"Oh, a few times. It's alright."

"So you've shot them before!" They sat beside her cross-legged to watch her work. "Why were you giving me shit about it just now?"

"No, I've only trapped them. Just a few times, when I'm away from any towns for a good long while."

"Isn't that harder?"

"Yes, which is why you should be impressed." She glanced at them, then went on, "Also, I'm a terrible shot. Things look blurry to me when they're at that distance away, so there wasn't much point in learning."

"Really?" As her words sank in, they felt their previous excitement congeal in them like a blood clot, stopping them up. They wondered if she might be lying, but they weren't good at spotting that kind of thing in anyone, least of all her. She had not tensed or looked away as she had spoken, at least that they had seen. She just kept pulling the feathers. Anyway, it would have made for an odd thing to lie about in this moment.

The number 113 flashed through Hurley's head over and over. Abernathy had been shot from 113 meters away, the distance from the door of the bank to the general store's porch. Her bad sight and the clean gun and the fact that--they could tell--she hadn't thought to shoot when she had gotten caught. Her reaction to simply hitting Hurley in the nose. Would the law know all that? Would it care? It wasn't what one would call hard evidence, certainly nothing capable of proving her innocence, but it didn't add up. What did it mean to bring her back to a Goldcliff unaware of such things?

They didn't ask all that. Instead, they pushed past the stewing in their guts to ask, "Are you often out here for a long time?"

She shrugged. "Depends. Sometimes I have a harder time getting some sheriff off my trail, and I have to hide out here a little longer before I go back to a town. I can be here for a few weeks without much of a problem." She cocked her brow at them and jabbed, "When I'm prepared."

They flicked a spot of dried mud from their boot. "That sounds lonely," they said in the most neutral way they could, which was probably not very.

She snorted. "No. The quiet's nice out here."

Hurley looked around. "I think I agree. It's funny. I didn't like that about it when I first got out here, but being in a place that's sort of...stuck out of time, that's a nice distance to have."

"You can disappear, yeah." She passed the featherless carcass to them, and they began to slice its belly.

"I wouldn't want it all the time, though. Eventually I think I'd want someone around."

"I don't like answering to anybody."

"I'm aware of that," they said with a grin.

"Well, do you? 'Cause you seem like you'd rather be the person people answer to."

"Do I?" They paused when their knife was partway through the thin, shining muscle under the skin as they held the bird over the dead charcoals. The blood rose up out of it and dribbled onto the ashes, so that it would be soaked up. "I don't think it has to be about answering to anyone. You can just be with people."

"Where'd you learn to shoot?"

"Well, when I was young, maybe seven or eight, my mother--"

"Oh, gods."

"Hey, do you want to know or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's just I should've known you'd make it something sentimental." She gave them a flippant wave while still looking down at the roadrunner. Hurley chose to be optimistic and assume that was her version of a joke. "Go on."

They huffed. “Well, I’ll make it quick for both our sakes, I guess. I was gonna say that my mother always told me I thought with my belly.”

“Huh. Rude.”

“No, she didn’t mean it like that. She meant I listen to my gut before anyone else, including her, or my own brain. Like how I’d go running out the door in my underwear to frighten off the foxes if I thought I heard them near the chickens. I was maybe three when I did this, I should mention.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

“Anyway, finally Mom decided that if I was going to keep running into things without thinking about them, I might as well figure out how to protect myself while I did it. I started off with a slingshot when I was maybe seven, but I wanted a gun before long. She managed to put off giving me one until I was, oh, twelve or so.”

Sloane chuckled. “Very irresponsible. I love it.”

“Hey, at least she found someone to teach me before she let me lay my hands on the thing myself. I’ve been practicing ever since.”

“I can tell.”

“Yeah.”

It was some time before either of them spoke again. Several times, Hurley took in a big breath to speak, held it and let it grow hot and tight inside their chest, and then let it all out. The sun had melted into a band of fading yellow on the horizon.

Finally, they said, “Hey, let me switch out your shackles.”

They went to chain her ankles so that they could remove the irons around her wrist, but she rolled out of the way at the last second, flopping onto her back. “Nah, don’t feel like it,” she answered, playing up the lazy tone.

Hurley snorted. “Don’t be an ass, come on.”

This time, she flipped over onto her belly, still skirting just out of reach. Her head was in her hands as she fixed them with a playful grin. “You gotta catch me first if you want to do that, Red. I thought you were good at that.”

They stared her down and made a point of being unsmiling. “Sloane, it’s got to happen eventually anyway.

The smile slid from her face fast. She cast her eyes down to the ground. When she finally let them approach, it was while she was turned away from them and looking out to the fading light. She had closed.

Over the nearly three weeks that they had been on their own together, this was what Hurley had come to dread far more than the dark of the nights and the heat of the days. It was the feeling of collapse, of having to knock down something that they had built up themself. Because they could almost pretend, before they remembered the chains again. It seemed, sometimes, that she almost forgot them as well.

They had been sleeping closer together lately. On a particularly cold night, Sloane had even conceded to being under the same blanket with them, so long as Hurley kept their hands curled up against their chest. But it wouldn’t be tonight, regardless of how much either of them shivered.

#for christmas i would like comments <3 #hurloane #taz #the adventure zone #taz fanfic #the zone cast #taz balance #hurley #sloane #the wanted

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symbianosgames · 7 years

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Reposted from the Award Winning* Thimbleweed Park Dev Blog. *Awards TBD.

It's why I like to have a budget.

A schedule lists everything you have to make and who is going to make it and when. A budget takes all those people and how much they cost and tells you what the project is going to cost.

Let's go through the budget.

At the bottom is a total. I look at that each month and look at the bank balance. So far, we're fine. But that's because I worry.

It's also possible that we'll move resources around, spend less on an artist and add a programmer. Budgets are living documents.

I hope this was informative. There are a lot of ways to do budgeting and I'm sure there are better ways, but this has always worked for me.

- Ron Gilbert

#IFTTT #Blogger

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