#Killer meanwhile looking up guides on how to kill Gods.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Found

After some thinking I decided to write this little thing :3

I was thinking between this drabble and one that was about Dream and decided to go for this one.

Mostly because the timing for later in the series is just so much FUNNIER if this one is done first. (you guys will understand later)

First Drabble and original prompt by @spotaus Prev Drabble Next Drabble

No beta and no edits. We jsut going.

*---------------------*

Killer sighs as he rubs the sweat of his skull. You would think it is cooler now than the summer but it hardly matters when you are physically active.

Ugh. He hates cleaning duty.

Still he looks around the area he is cleaning up and grins proudly. They had realised that the decliding cliff was facing the south meaning it had so many sun hours.

Horror had offered they could grow grapes using the cliff side and because those where plants that liked to climb up they could use the vertical area to create more space!

Also leaving the flat area for them to do soemthing else with. Killer had been thinking about trying to convince the others to agree to animals but he may need to plead a bit more for that idea.

Still he looks over at Cross nad Horror, both are setting up trellises along the side to help start to grow. All preparation work for their first season of course.

Tehy hadn't quite decided what they would make of the grapes, maybe even just sell the grapes themselves. But they will figure it out. Killer had offered the obvious wine but he hadn't been too excited about it himself. Seemed like a bad idea to make wine when you have a babybones running around.

Even so. Tehy aren't in a hurry. They first need to manage to grow some to begin with.

Killer stretches his limbs when he hears a strange sizzle. Killer blinks and looks back up the side of the cliff before looking at Cross and Horror confused. Both looking up themselves as they no doubt heard it as well.

They assend their, newly repaired, stairs and get to their normal area. It looks fine but Dust is also out and looking around wiht a frown on his face.

Killer gets to his side "Ngihtmare?"

Dust hums "in the nest. Sleeping with his bat." he looks around again and shoots Killer a look "sound?"

Killer shrugs, he has no idea. Cross shoots upright as he looks up "oh no..."

Killer looks up himself and feels himself freeze. becuase he knows those glitching effects. The sizzling gets louder and with the sound of ripping fabric the very universe opens up.

Moment later a figure they all know appears.

Error blinks as he looks around before spotting them. He huffs annoyed "hello abominations. I am looking for your boss." he looks around and frowns "Why are you in this dump?"

Killer freezes. Waht do they do?! Normally it was Nightmare who contacted Error about things he wanted or shifts or jobs or anything. Error coming to them?! Unusual! Also! How the fuck?!

Killer huffs as he crosses his arms "We are busy. How did you even find us here?" Did they leave traces? Did they mess up? Do they still need to move around again?!

Error looks smug as he jumps down from the roof and lands in front of them soundlessly "I obviously looked into the code of the multiverse, antivoid and void."

Killer feels a part of him relax. While most of them can in someway check a universe's code. Checking the code of the multiverse itself is a skill only Error can reliably do.

Error looks very annoyed as he crosses his arms "Do you ahve any idea how long it took me to find you? It is so annoying! Now. I got to talk business with nightmare. Where is that octopus?" he looks around.

Dust growls and glares at him "leave."

Error blinks and tilts his skull "Since when do you talk?"

Dust keeps glaring "Nightmare doesn't want to see you. Leave. You are not welcome."

Killer must admit Dust has guts but also Dust not the time!

Killer tries to nudge Dust further back but Dust refuses to move from his spot. Oh shit.

Error glares at Dust "You dare try and get in my way? The destroyer!?" he chackles as he raises a hand. Strings slowly appearing in the air "I will show you what happens if you do. Now. How about you-"

"Wait!"

Killer feels his skull freeze as he looks at the door. Oh no.

Error frowns and turns before looking confused at Nightmare. A large error sign in Error's sockets as he just stands there frozen. Nightmare doesn't say a word but just keeps looking at the other god.

Error blinks and slowly turns to Killer and points over his shoulder "you abominations made a tiny abomination?" Error looks utterly confused.

Killer almost wants to laugh at that notion but he just isn't sure what to say. What can he say to make Error leave them be? More importantly what can he say that would keep Error from telling everyone about what he saw here? Where could they even go if Error can just check the code of the multiverse to find them!?

Before Killer cna say anything else Nightmare takes a step closer. A very panicked sound leaves Cross before he just sprints by Error to stand between him and Nightmare. Keepign his arms spread in front of Nightmare as a living shield.

Error frowns at him and studies Nightmare.

Nightmare gulps before he has that same tiny grumpy stubborn look on his face that Killer just adores. Nightmare huffs as he crosses his arms "What? I thought you wanted to talk?"

Error stares and then he takes a step back "what the fuck?"

Killer mutters it before he cans top himself "language" look they all had just been trying to fix their own cursing a bit but it is habit for all of them.

Error dismisses him as he takes a step closer. Cross summons a weapon and growls at Error "Not a step closer. you can talk from a distance."

Error rubs his sockets. Stares at Nightmare. Rubs his sockets again. Stares at Nightmare again. Then he calls up the code screen for this universe. Looks at Nightmare again. the he looks at Killer and just mutters "What?"

Well would you look at that. Aparently even the destroyer hadn't seen everything in the multiverse.

Dust takes this chance to get to Ngihtmare as well and pick him up. he huffs "What is wrong? You are acting like you have never seen a child before."

Error stands there before waving at Nightmare "That is Ngihtmare! The Nightmare?!"

Horror just crosses his arms and raises a brow "so?"

Error blinks and the error messages around him get a bit worse before he waves at Ngihtmare again "So!? Since when is he a child?!"

Killer grins himself even if his soul pulses quickly. He makes a show of leaning against one of their new fenches "I mean. For a while now. Since his birth. Then again his age was frozen when he corrupted so..." he shrugs.

Error stares at him "No?! He wasn't a child?! He was... You know! Adult? dripping goop and tentacles?! Remind you of anything?!"

Killer raises a brow and shrgus "yeah. Turns out? Not an adult. Just a babybones with magical god apples making a corruption shield around him and temporarily giving him the body he needed to do his god thing." Killer figures it is fine to tell Error. Error will be able to find out anyway and honestly they don't need Error being mad at them for lying.

Error stares at him. Looks back at Ngihtmare. then looks back at Killer for a moment "you aren't shitting me? You are fucking serious?"

Killer sends him a look "dude. seriously. there is a six year old here. Try to not swear." he shrugs and walks over to join Cross and Dust, and Horror for that matter. Killer continues speaking as he walks "It is hardly needed to curse the whole time."

Nightmare shoots him a look and mutters "hypocrit."

Killer grins "you know my tiny boss!" he grins and pokes the tiny cheek. Nightmare looks away embarresed and flustered. mh... weird.. normally he doesn't mind the poking...

Error frowns as he looks to the side before looking at Nightmare "So what now? No goop?"

Ngihtmare glances at Error for a moment before nodding. It takes him a bit to find the right words. Nightmare still speaks softly but with how quiet it is his voice still seems loud "I... I am sitll a god... I think... Just not of balance anymore. I can't do stuff with that anymore..."

Error stares at them for a moment. looks around the area. Then looks down thinking. there is a small loading bar showing his thought process.

It hits full and he straightens "well... I am leaving." he turns to the side adn starts to mess with a coding window again.

Killer frowns "That is it?!"

Error pauses and shrgus "obviously? I was looking for Nightmare, you know, king of negativity and god of balance and all that sh-... stuff..." he glances at them before looking back at the window "Nightmare isn't that anymore. So I will have to figure something else out."

Cross looks anxious as he steps forwards "No one can know! If they know...." he rubs his hands "Just... please..."

Error pauses again and shrugs "Don't see the point in sharing. After all. He isn't the god of negativity. And when people ask about him they want to find the gooped up bas- guy who had all powerful magic and abilities... Why give them the location of a child and his group of babysitters?" and Error disappears through a portal.

A long silence.

They... are fine?

That... that was pretty much him saying he wouldn't tell anyone right?

Like... They are good?

Killer glances at the others and they all share slightly unsure looks. Nightmare however looks at where Error disappeared.

Nightmare just stares before getting a very tiny grin as he hides his face a bit and mutters "he is cool..."

Killer freezes. Nightmare's tiny blush. the embarresment. the way he tried to looks tough and controlled and cool... before when Ngihtamre always searched Error out. The fact Nightmare was always very willing and easy about helping Error even if it hardly helped his own goal.

No.

No absolutely not!

Killer turns to Nightmare and makes him look at him. Ngihtmare huffs and looks annoyed while Killer stares at him "No."

Dust shoots him a look "Killer what are you even saying-"

Killer continues as he stares at Nightmare "No. No crushing on Error. I don't care he is technically the only other god who was nice to you or was understanding about your work. You are not allowed to have a crush on him. He is dangerous and crazy and you can do so much better."

Ngihtamre has a lsightly panicked look on his face as he looks away and mutters "I don't... he is jsut..."

Cross blinks before laughing "Killer calm down. It is just a little crush. Kids have those all the time."

Killer shakes his skull "Nightmare will evnetually grow up again!" may take them ages or not. Hell they don't know how gods grow up but still! Killer isn't allowing it! No way! He looks back at Ngihtmare "You are too young and too tiny to even think about liking others like that so stop that. And even if you do start thinking like that WHEN you are an apropriate age! You aren't allowed to like him because he is crazy and you deserve so much better!"

Horror chuckles "what is the appropriate age?"

Killer's mind blanks before he answers "When he is thirty! Physically! AT LEAST!" and even then Killer isn't sure about it.

Cross snorts "you aren't even thirty... physically."

Killer huffs "And I am a bad example. We don't do what i do." he stares at Ngihtmare.

Nightmare just looks down embarresed before pushign his face back into Dust's shoulder.

Killer will accept that answer for now. But maybe he will need to look through the stuff they have. Clearly no romance novels or movies are allowed anymore. He will have to check it all. Honestly what are those people thinking?! Showing romance to such young minds!

Cross snorts and leans closer to Dust "Somehow I did not expect Killer to be the anti-date parent. Yet here we are."

Dust hums "same. expected it to be me."

Horror chuckles as he leads them back inside.

They still remain watchful and pack some emergancy bags. If they notice even the tiniest sign that their location is compromised they are leaving. They give Crop and update and ask him to watch out as well.

But..

Nothing happens.

Not even a peep.

Nothing.

days go by and they slowly start to relax and get into their own rhythm again. Cleaning and repairing stuff. Getting ready for the next spring and talking with some town folk.

Today is a day that Killer, Dust and Nightmare are just laying in their nest watching an old western movie on the repaired tv, thank you Dust.

It is nice and calm untill.

sizzling.

Killer shoots upright and a small portal opens up. only for a black skeleton hand to drop something through it before it closes again.

It had fallen right in Nightmare's lap and Ngihtmare blinks confused at the small hastly packed present.

Dust looks over his shoulder and a check later and it seems fine. Dust nudges Nightmare and Nightmare first opens the small card.

Killer leans close and reads wiht them.

It is just a card saying 'so he knows which side to aim towards when he grows up.'. Which, weird.

Nightmare blinks at it before opening the present and he lets out a tiny gasp.

Killer stares as he sees a small woolen doll octopus. It is bright purple with a tiny grumpy face on it.

Nightmare feels the plush carefully as he stares at it with pure awe. A tiny purr starts to leave their baby bones.

Killer is going to have to make plans in advance to make sure that WHEN Nightmare is a teen he doesn't try and hang out with Error. Killer will also have to figure out how to successfully threaten a god.

On his 'to do' list it goes.

*---------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Also Also

Error finds them

gang: *panic*

Error leaves again because whatever but leaves a little plush for Nightmare.

Gang: ... okay.

Nightmare hugging the plush: I did always think he was real cool... *slightly wishful stare*

Killer realises baby has a first crush: ... *PANIC TIMES FIVE* absolutely not!

[silveraro]

WIP Wednesday (bc I'm a slow writer)

Alastor Aristide was dying. Just after he'd become the world's youngest serial killer.

The 10-year-old boy had just finished burying the body of Clara's former stepfather, now the 4th piece of organic fertiliser Alastor had added to the bayou. Suddenly, he was bleeding, being ripped into by dogs. Then he was dead. A man, a hunter, had mistook his dog's reaction for a deer or some other game.

Instead, he had shot a child. He'd carried the child into the town, around the shacks, and to Adelaide Aristide's house. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. For how do you tell a woman you'd shot her only child?

Meanwhile, a red eye opened up to a bright red sky.

A woman was looking at him. Her skin was grey, and she had black voids instead of eyes.

"My dear, are you okay? You've had quite a fall?" she said. Grey was close enough to white and dressed like the affluent ladies from the good side of the city, even if not as modern as —the ones Mama cleaned for. Maybe she was one of her clients. He should be polite.

The wealthy lady was holding out her hand to him, and when he reached out to grasp it, instead of his usual tan skin, his hands were black, with fingers as red as when he’d killed Mr Greggs. His fingernails were sharp, and suddenly he was struggling to breathe.

"Good Lord! Where am I?" cried the little boy. He looked around and saw everything surrounding him was unfamiliar.  "Mwen vle tounen lakay mwen!" He continued to panic, his stomach churning, and as he searched for a way back home, he felt his heart beating faster. Wait, he didn’t feel his heart. Why couldn’t he feel his heart?

“Don't fret, Poppet.” comforted the grey lady, her long, sharp fingers combing his hair. "My dear child, you find yourself amidst a realm of fiery trials and curious wonders. It may seem daunting, but remember, great lessons are often learned in the depths of adversity. Embrace this journey with courage, for even in the darkest of places, there are treasures to be unearthed and virtues to be forged." She continued running her fingers through his hair, comforting him until his breathing slowed.

“Do you remember your name?” she asked, removing her hand from his hair (and oh god, were his ears up on his head!) and offered him her hand. He grabbed it, clinging to her hand for all he’d got. “A-Alastor.” He stuttered. She smiled at him, a large smile that showed off her razor-sharp teeth. “What a lovely name,” she said with a smile, guiding him into a shop; the sign above said “Cecil and Rosie’s Emporium”,

Alastor sat in the apartment above the shop. The woman, he guessed was Rosie, was brewing some tea for him and had given him a mirror. His hair was longer and flowed in fiery strands, red with blackened tips. His ears, of all peculiarities, were on the side of his head and resembled deer ears. Amidst the tangle of his crimson locks, two small twig-like protrusions emerged. His eyes, matching the fiery intensity of his hair, bore the same crimson hue, while tears, dark as coal tar and flowing against his father's disapproval, threatened to betray his stoicism.

“Right, dear, do you know where you are?” Rosie asked, passing him a delicate tea cup. “Hell,” he said bluntly, trying to hide that she’d made him jump. He wrapped a sharp red pinky finger around the dainty handle and raised the cup with a slightly shaky hand. She looked between his grimace and his shaking fingers and smiled a genuine smile.“How old were you, Alastor?” She asked after a moment. “Nearly 11 Madam,” “Oh, none of that madam nonsense, you're only 10. Call me Rosie.”

[stargaze-issei]

Stoner Hawks being on patrol with him and maybe having a fire quirk (Dabi’s sis blue flames but you know Endevor don’t know that maybe she knows Dabi is her brother and knew that he ran away and never told her dad about it and how often she sees him but n e way she’s a hero did the whole UA thing) and being on patrol on top a building Keigo rolls a joint and moves on in readers direction like “can you spark it?🥺” maybe just smoking maybe some smut

this made me sO soft, like yes stoner hawks being the cutest 🥺 i got a little carried away with it, and somehow it ended up being 2.1k long ( ´◡‿ゝ◡`) thank u sm for requesting, i loved it.

stoner!takami with a todoroki!reader.

summary; in the request.

genre; fluff, smut.

warnings; daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, oral (receiving-giving), curse words, idk fucking(? smut in general.

word count; 2.1k

author's note; don't judge me it's my first time writing smut ):

 your phone rang in the pocket of your hero costume, the id showing a smiley keigo. despite knowing what was about to happen, you couldn't avoid your own smile. as you answered, the first thing you heard was wind on his side of the line, you sighed, he was probably calling while flying, again.

"one of this days, you're going to crash against a plane" his melodic laugh reached through the speaker. damn, how could you stay mad when he's laughing like that?

"i'm going to assume you're already at our spot, gorgeous" this time you laughed, nervously, takami hated waiting more than anything, and there you were, thirty minutes away from your meeting point. "send me your location, i'm picking you up" and just as fast, he hung up. flying with him was a better idea than running through the city by yourself, therefore, you did as he said.

a giggle escaped your mouth, he had that effect on you, despite of knowing each other for that long. it didn't matter how many times he called you pretty, gorgeous, angel, your face instantly heated up. and he loved it, it gave you a fake innocence, that he sure knew was oly a facade. in less than five minutes, his mighty figure covered the sun above you, looking like that, he could easily be confused by an angel send from heaven.

"i know i'm hot, but you're drooling a bit" takami, the endless teaser.

"let's just go" he picked you up, bridal style, gaining a few curious glares.

your relationship, if you could call it that, had always been a subject of gossip. not you nor him had either confirmed it or deny the rumors about it, truth be told, not even you knew what you were. it was more than friendship, but not as committed as an actual couple. you were used to kiss him, sleep with him, get high with him, and that was enough. there were feelings between, from both parts, but this was the best way. two heroes, in the peak of their careers, had no time for anything else. the ride to your usual vigilance spot was short, hawks flying at a dangerous speed, despite your complete trust in him, you still wondered if he could drop you.

"what took you so long?" he asked, once you were sitting in the edge of the tall building. you sighed, to keep that secret from him was exhausting, at least.

"my brother called".

an awkward silence grew, takami knew you were endeavor's oldest daughter, his pride and joy, wether you liked it or not. obviously he knew your brother had to be endeavor's lost son, touya. what you had kept to yourself was he went now by the name dabi, a faithful follower of the hero killer's ideals.

"is he okay?"

"mhm, he needed money".

keigo wasn't going to tell you this, but every time you said you brother called because he needed something, his blood boiled in his veins. ignoring the fact that he had to stay hidden, for some reason you wouldn't say, to hawks it seemed like he only reached out to you out of material need, meanwhile you were always preocuppied with his well. takami's hand found its way to yours, even wtih gloves you could feel his warmness. 

"oh, right, i-i've been saving this for us" he took a small plastic bag out of his pocket, letting you see those green herbs. by the looks, it had to be more expensive than usual. you gasped, in a really cute way, hawks thought. no words were needed, he grindered the pot before rolling a joint. his tongue appeared to seal it, looking straight into your eyes while licking it. he knew exactly what he was doing. "may you do the honors, angel face" a small blue flame igniciate in the tip of your index finger, just as he inhale for the first time.

takami, covered in a cloud of smoke, holding a blunt on his hand, adding that chilled look in his face. was certainly a sight to see.

unspokenly, he handed it over to you. with a smile on you face, you hit it for the first time. for a while, non of you talked, just enjoying each other's company, in fact, those moments with keigo were you favorite, you didn't have to worry for anything besides him. and he thought the same, there, he could stop being hawks, he could be just keigo, your long term friend, leaving all the responsabilities of being a hero in the ground. with you, he felt like flying.

by pure coincidence, he caught you looking at his profile. the moonlight made you have a different kind of glow, like a fairy, he thought. almost withouth realizing, he leaned over to you, his lips seeking yours rather desperately. his hand wondered to your hair, finding its place in the back of your neck, pulling you closer and making sure you weren't escaping. his experimented tongue made its way into your mouth, going through every place he already knew like it was the first time. he tasted like smoke. once he knew you were on the same page, he pushed you back on solid ground, laying on top of you. a moan left your lips, drowned by his own mouth, when his still dressed hips impacted against you. 

every touch was being enhanced by the effect of the pot. he pulled away, breaking the moment. he needed to look at you, your lust filled eyes, your half opened mouth. it was enough to get him hard in his pants. with a quick movement, he took out his gloves, fastly moving to take off your complicated hero costume. maybe it was because he was blown out of his mind, or he was just to eager to see your naked body, but he had a serious struggle doing it, making a soft giggle leave your throat. 

"you could help me instead of laughing at me" he whined, jokingly upset.

"and miss the hawks having troubles with a bra? i don't think so" that seemed to made him even more anxious, you knew he was done when a small "finally" was whispered.

between laughs, giggles and smirks, he got back on top of yours. he liked to feel you naked underneath him, having you to his complete disposal, and not losing a single item of his clothes. you weren't letting him enjoy the moment to much, a girl has her need, and touching his work out abs was certainly a need. you removed his shirt, smiling at his messy hair. 

he started to leave a trace of kisses from your lips to you r collarbone, licking, biting, leaving small dark marks on your skin. just at that, you became a moaning mess, there was something so dirty about takami marking your body.

"babygirl, i haven't even started" with that, you closed your eyes, giving into pleasure as his kisses got lower and lower. when he got to your breast, your nipples were already hard, expecting to feel his wet mouth any moment now. but that wasn't all that happened, almost at the same time, you felt a hand opening its way to your drenched cunt. "look at that, you're already so wet from my mouth only".

his tongue circle you nip at a killing pace, while two fingers found their way inside you without any warning. so thight, he said, his mind already thinking on how well you could take his cock. with his thumb in the perfect position, he started massaging your swollen clit. all you could do was melt in his touch. his free hand reached to the last bit of the blunt, which rested at a safe distance. he got up, leaving you kneeled in front of him.

"open your mouth, princess" despite his loving tone, he wasn't asking, so you did as you were told and watched him hit the last of the joint, keeping as much smoke as he could beofre leaning towards you. with a kiss, he shared it with you, entangling your tongues. he licked your lips, getting back up, his hand resting on the waist of his pants. "you're gonna be a good girl, aren't you, princess?" he got his hips so close to your face that your mouth watered.

"yes, daddy" you knew calling him that was a trigger. he took out his fat dick outside his pants, so hard that it was starting to hurt. his hand placed on the back of your head, guiding you to your objective. 

as soon as your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, he let out a unsually deep growl. takami never lasted that long, and being under the inffluence of weed wasn't helping. he couldn't even look down at you, the sight of your angel face, looking so fucking pretty while sucking him off, he was barely controlling himself from your noises. you struggled, gagging every once in a while, but never stopped, he loved to see the tears in your eyes. when he felt close, his dick twitch in your mouth, you tasted the precum coming out of him. before doing it, he pulled your hair back, avoiding it.

"my baby, you do it so good, do you think you deserve a reward?" to those words, you couldn't help but moan. his hand held your chin, making you look straight into his eyes.  

"please, daddy, please eat me out" he felt like losing his mind hearing you begging like that, who was him to deny it. a kiss left in your lips, before kneeling down facing your wet, juicy, cunt. thanks for the meal, he thought.

his tongue worked wonders. the second he met your needy clit, you were actually watching the stars. the ability he had, going between your folds, sucking just in the right spot, fucking you with his tongue. he had you a screaming and drooling mess in a minute.

"daddy! oh god, yes! there, keep going, please! fuck me, yes!" he loved hearing you going crazy because of him, he loved being able to do as he pleased with you. he could hear your moans forever. 

he knew you too well, instantly he could tell you were close to cum, he wasn't going to let that happen, he wanted you to cum in his dick, breaking your back, leaving you so fucked up you wouldn't be able to walk afterwards. feeling him leave you on the edge was torture. 

"are you so desperate for me, little bird?" he crawled to you, placing his hips on top of yours. you weren't even thinking when he kissed you, loving the thought of you tasting yourself. you wrapped your hands around his neck, reaching his back, if there was something he liked was you scratching his back until it bleed.

with a slow, gentle hursh, he deepend inside you, admiring the image of you closing your eyes at the pain. even prepared and lubed, he was just too big for you. as he felt you adptaing, his pace got faster and harder, his hands grabbed tightly into your hips, probably leaving bruises afterwards. in less than a minute, he already had a constant pace inside you, hitting your spot with every thurst. you whimpers and his groans mixed in the air. one of his hands travelled to your neck, applying a little pressure on it while his thumb fitted in your mouth. that was the view he wanted to see for his whole life. 

"you're such a slut, baby girl, but you're my slut, right?" you sucked his thumb, your mind couldn't form coherent words and his finger didn't let you speak. "oh yes, cum with me, princess, cum for daddy" his words were like music to your ears. 

the orgasm you repressed for a while felt so close, when you finally reached it, your walls clenched around his dick even harder than before, a scream of pleasure filling the atmosphere. not long after, you felt his warm cum exploding inside you, his grab hardened and a moan left his lips. he stayed there for a while, retaking his breath.his wings served as a wall for the cold wind running. finally, he retired from you, laying at your side while hugging you with one of his arms.

you looked at him, despite not being your actuall boyfriend, he loved you as much as you loved him. though tired, the fuzzy feeling inside you didn't stop, you wondered if it was just you being still high as a rocket, or if that's what love felt like.

[shirtlesssammy]

2x13: Houses of the Holy

Providence, Rhode Island

A woman sits in the dark, smoking cigarettes, and watching TV.

The lights start to flicker and the television flickers back to an evangelical preaching. Her house starts shaking and her angel statues start falling. There’s suddenly a bright light and the woman watches it in awe. 

Sam Winchester, decked out in white scrubs, greets his patient, Gloria. Sam wants to talk to her about what she saw that night. Gloria tells him that she stabbed a man in the heart “because it was God’s will.” Sam wants to know if God talked to her (too busy fucking with your life, Sam) but she says no and that an angel came to her. The angel told her that the man she stabbed was guilty. She needed no other proof to do it. 

Sam later finds Dean enjoying some music and magic fingers. 

Dean’s on lockdown because he robbed a bank in Milwaukee. They discuss the case. It really seems that Gloria is just a religious nutjob. And Sam would agree if she wasn’t the second person in town to have murdered someone because an angel told them to. “Supernatural maybe. But angels? I don't think so,” Dean insists. BLESS. 

They then have a very fun conversation about how unicorns don’t exist (And Truly, BLESS Andrew Dabb. This dude took this one off joke and made it reality.) In any event, Dean firmly doesn’t believe in angels. (In a far off voice I hear: This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.) 

Once they stop arguing about angels, they decide to check out the victim, Carl’s place. They head to the basement to see what secrets he had hidden. 

Sam finds scratch marks on the wall. On a closer inspection, he also finds a fingernail. They start digging up the dirt floor and find a skeleton. 

In a lonely apartment, a man lays on his bed, drinking himself to oblivion. His lights start flickering and the room starts shaking. Suddenly there’s a bright light.

Cut to the man, Zach, walking to another house and stabbing a dude right in the gut. 

Dean’s listening to the police scanner when Sam walks back to the motel room with food. He also has news that three people disappeared from the library where Carl worked. Dean has other news --the not-angel struck again. 

They head out to the victim’s house and sneak inside. Sam hacks into the dude’s computer and Dean browses his catalog collection. Sam finds locked emails that turn out to be to an underage girl. 

Dean is baffled by this spirit or demon they’re dealing with. Sam points out it’s like an avenging angel. Oh, Sam, if you only knew angels are dicks. Dean connects the two victims --they both go to the same church. 

They meet with the priest posing as new parishioners. They discuss this whole angel crap but the priest is a believer (obv.) and talks openly with Sam about what angels are thought to be like. They look at a painting of Michael, the archangel, while the priest describes his belief that they’re “more loving, than wrathful.” 

As they’re leaving, Dean notices a memorial on the steps of the church. It’s for Father Gregory, who was shot there two months prior in a carjacking. Dean thinks they’re dealing with a vengeful spirit, but Sam still humors the angel aspect of it all. Dean knows that Sam prays everyday (and I sit weeping in the corner, thinking of Purgatory.)

An angel statue begins to quake. Sam looks at it with curiosity, only to be overtaken by awe as bright light suffuses the room. He passes out. 

“I saw an angel,” Sam gasps to his brother later. He reports that the angel spoke to him and told him to kill a man. The kicker is, the doomed guy on Sam’s hit list hasn’t actually committed any crime...yet. Dean’s unimpressed by Sam “Minority Report” Winchester’s insistence that he’s been chosen by the angels and God for this mission. I give Dean a high five, then methodically throw rocks through every single one of my windows as I think about the next thirteen seasons. 

Their mom used to tell them every night that angels were watching over them. “She was wrong,” Dean says bitterly, “There’s no higher power. There’s no God. There’s just chaos. Violence. Random unpredictable evil that comes outta nowhere. Rips you to shreds. You want me to believe in this stuff? I’m gonna need to see some hard proof.” (I gallantly resist making a dirty joke about Castiel’s “hard proof.”) 

Ahem. Anyway, Dean’s solid on the ghost theory. At the priest’s crypt they find wormwood growing - it’s a sign of a restless spirit. LOLLLL early seasons. Sam agrees to hold a seance. 

They head out of a corner grocery a little while later, stocked with SpongeBob mats and candles for the seance, when Sam sees THE SIGN. Light glows around his mark - the guy he’s supposed to kill. While Ace of Base plays in my head, Sam makes a move  to kill - er, stop - the ghost-tagged perp. Looking to forestall Sam’s murder-to-be, Dean tells Sam to run the seance and tails Sam’s suspect on his own. Dean watches the guy pick up a date, and then they’re off again.

Meanwhile, Sam’s obediently running the seance.

The priest appears in the crypt, horrified to see what looks like THE VERY DEVIL WORSHIP taking place. “I can explain,” Sam says before utterly failing to explain anything. And then light fills the room. The priest wonders if it’s an angel, but Sam sorrowfully notes that it’s only Father Gregory’s ghost. 

The glowing angelic vision suddenly distills into a normal human figure. Father Gregory wonders why Sam isn’t killing his marked man. After all, he’s an angel and he commanded it! Sam glumly explains that NO, Father Gregory is just a normal ectoplasm-slinging ghost. 

Dean loses the trail of the marked man, while Father Gregory explains that his kill orders are redemption for the killers and every one of his marks is guilty. “This is vengeance. This is wrong,” the older priest declares and I look VERY HARD at the rest of the show. 

Meanwhile, the guy Dean was tailing parks his car in an abandoned alley and attempts to attack his date. JAB HIM IN THE EYEBALLS, LADY! Dean bashes his head in just in time and saves the date. The guy drives off and Dean follows quickly on his tail.

The old priest offers last rites to Father Gregory, who begins to flicker. 

Sam watches in full puppy eyed mode as Father Gregory disappears, presumably to high five ghosts in Heaven. 

Dean chases the Bad Guy through the streets until a truck pulls out in front of Bad Guy’s car. A metal pole bounces off the truck, pierces the windshield, and impales the guy right in the chest. 

Later, Sam morosely packs his bag back at the motel. 

For What the Fuck is this Motel Room Design Science:

Sam’s sad that there wasn’t an angel watching out for people on Earth. Dean pulls out his flask, takes a big swig, and promises to watch out for Sam. “You’re just one person,” Sam tells him. He’d hoped there was a higher power guiding their lives. One who’d grant Sam salvation. 

“Knocking on Heaven’s Door” starts to play, while Dean confesses his current emotional state. He proposes that the insane way the Bad Guy died MIGHT have been God’s will. I kick Chuck right in the nuts. 

Quakin’ Quotes:

Aw, dammit! That was my last quarter. Hey! You got any quarters?

There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they ride on silver moonbeams and they shoot rainbows out of their ass

You’ve got faith. I’m sure it makes things easier

One of the perks of the job. We don’t need to operate on faith

Men cannot be angels

There’s so much evil in the world, Dean. I feel like I could drown in it.

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[365days365movies]

February 2, 2021: Pretty Woman (1990)

ALL RISE FOR THE KING AND QUEEN OF ROMANCIA!

First, we bow to the Actor King of Romancia, Richard Gere. Gere is a DYNAMO of romantic movies, having starred in The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, American Gigolo, An Officer and a Gentleman, Sommersby, Autumn in New York, Chicago, Shall We Dance?, Runaway Bride, and of course, Pretty Woman. He was crowned king of this fictionation both because of his film prowess, and because DUDE HAS DATED A LOT OF FAMOUS PEOPLE GODDAMN

Second, we bow to the Actress Queen of Romancia, Julia Roberts.

Roberts’ resume is equally romantic, including films such as Notting Hill, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Eat Pray Love, Steel Magnolias, Mystic Pizza, Runaway Bride, and of course, Pretty Woman. She was crowned queen of this fictionation because, I mean...it’s Julia Roberts, man. Who else was gonna be queen, Meg Ryan? She’s too busy ruling the Holy Romance Empire.

Yes. Yes, I will be visiting the Holy Romance Empire soon.

Anyway, one of the advisors to this great land was the now sadly passed Garry Marshall, a seasoned romantic movie director, responsible for The Princess Diaries (and its terrible sequel), Beaches, Runaway Bride (shit, should I watch this one?), and those bad holiday romance movies from the late 2000′s. You know, Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve, Mother’s Day? Yeah, that’s the guy.

Marshall was appointed an advisor of Romancia because of his role as director of the film...you know.

Enough navel-gazing; let’s get into Pretty Woman, shall we? I, for one, am looking forward to venturing further into the land of Romancia! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start at a party where...George Costanza?

Huh! Phil Stuckey (Jason Alexander), a lawyer and kind of an asshole, is romancing women at a party, held on the behalf of Edward Lewis (Richard Gere), a businessman from New York. However, he’s currently in California away from his unhappy girlfriend back east, who’s feeling a tad neglected by the constantly busy Edward.

Meanwhile, on a less-than-great side of town lives Vivian Ward (Julia Roberts), a prostitute working the mean streets of Hollywood. Making her way to the red-light district, she enters the Blue Banana Club (which is...a name, that’s for sure), where she finds her roommate Kit De Luca (Laura San Giacomo). Laura’s unfortunately spent their rent on drugs, during the height of the cocaine epidemic in Hollywood.

The two meet each other on the street, where Edward’s lost, and struggling with Phil’s stick-shift Lotus Espirit. She offers to give him directions for money, and he reluctantly accepts. She gets in, and guides him back to his hotel. As he struggles to drive, she displays her knowledge of cars from back home. He then offers to drive the car for him, and also shows her prowess as a driver. Which...is pretty neat.

He asks how much she makes in her profession, as the two roll up to his hotel. As they begin to part ways, he asks her instead to accompany him into the hotel. She’s about as charmed and gawky as I would be going into a sick-ass hotel like that. The elevator in it has a FUCKING SOFA INSIDE, YES PLEASE

Edward’s a little embarrassed by her gawking, but they quickly get past it. Edward’s graveyard-still complacency is contrasted by her manic pixie energy. Not that she’s a manic pixie dream girl...I think. It’s more of a “rock-and-balloon” relationship deal. When Vivian busts out the condoms (she’s a “safety-girl”), Edward instead says he wants to “talk.”

During this talk, it’s revealed that his girlfriend has officially broken up with him, leaving him conspicuously single. He asks if she can stay the entire night, and she agrees for a price, to which he gladly agrees. They spend the night getting to know each other, although Edward is doing business during much of it. And she’s watching TV, and it gives off these kinda weird daddy-daughter vibes (not kink-shaming, mind you), and it’s...mildly uncomfortable.

This quickly progresses into her beginning to seduce him, and the two presumably have sex. We cut away just before anything happens, though. Afterwards, Edward takes a shower, as Vivian falls asleep, taking her wig off for the first time.

The next morning, Edward talks to Phil about an upcoming business purchase, when Vivian walks into the room. He’s ordered breakfast for them. ALL OF THE BREAKFAST. Seriously, everything on the menu. Motherfucker, do you KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE ROOM SERVICE IS? WE GET IT YOU’RE RICH

He reveals just how rich he is, noting that he buys companies on the brink of failure, and then sells pieces of the companies he buys. Vivian equates this to a chop-shop, which seems extremely accurate. On another call, Phil tells him that it would be better if he had a date. And it looks like...he already has one.

Yeah, Phil “hires” Vivian to be his girlfriend for a week. For $3000, she accepts, and I feel just a little icky. And yet...I dunno, we’ll see. He’s doing this purely to avoid romantic attachment, which is a little weird, but understandable? Maybe?

At this point, we get one of the most iconic scenes in the film, as the uptight women at a Rodeo Drive store tell her to leave, like assholes. They’ll get their comeuppance, though. OHHHHHH, THEY’LL get it. This compounds when the hotel manager, Barnard “Barney” Thompson (Héctor Elizondo), questions her presence there. And while it seems that he’s going to kick her out, he actually helps her out with an outfit.

Meanwhile, Edward’s business deal begins to go somewhat south, until Edward takes advantage of GOVERNMENT CORRUPTION. Anyway, Vivian goes to a local department store, where Barney’s friend Bridget (Elinor Donahue) helps her out with a cocktail dress. When she heads back, Barney acts like a bro once again and teaches her proper etiquette, Emily Post style.

Edward heads back to the hotel, where Vivian is waiting for him. And she looks cuuuuuuuuuuute. Edward thinks so, too, and they head to the corporate dinner. There waitselderly businessman James Morse (Ralph Bellamy), and his grandson David (Alex Hyde-White). We get a taste of just how vicious of a businessman Edward is, and Vivian makes a much better impression on the Morses than Edward does. Also, Eddie’s kind of a sociopath, huh? Or, at least, he has some sociopathic tendencies. I dunno his pure emotionlessness is rubbing me a weird way.

After the dinner goes VIOLENTLY south, the two begin to relate to each other a bit more. He notes that he prefers not to bring emotion into business, although he apparently does like Mr. Morse. He also notes that his father died a month ago, but it doesn’t appear to affect him much. Still he heads downstairs to get some air. Later, Vivian gets the bellhop, Dennis (Patrick Richwood) to help her find him, and she does. He’s playing piano like a GODDAMN MANIAC HOLY SHIT! Just like, “Don’t mind me, I’m just playing an operetta to PUT THE KNIFE FEELINGS TO SLEEP IAMTHEZODIACKILLER.” This manic performance is followed by the two just...fuckin’ on the piano. They just FUCK IN THE LOUNGE RIGHT ON THAT PIANO JESUS CHRIST GUYS

The next morning, post-musex, they go to get outfits together, in which Gere buys a massive set of outfits, and we get the first makeover montage this month! He also flashes even more sociopathic flair with a clothing store owner, goddamn. And that’s...when we get the song.

I mean, we had to get this song in here at some point, right? She also engages in the most iconically HUGE moment of the film. You know what I’m talking about, and it’s beautifully cathartic, my Lord.

Meanwhile, at work, Edward’s starting to...lose it, I guess? As Phil’s encouraging him to close in on Morse for the kill, Edward’s beginning to grow a heart. And may I note that he’s been in this relationship for TWO DAYS. Jesus, buddy, you’ve really never had a meaningful relationship, huh? They eventually go to a polo match for business reasons, here Phil finally meets Vivian. Vivian also notices that none of the high-society people here seem like, well...friends.

Turns out that David Morse is one of the polo players, and Vivian starts to speak with him. Phil, meanwhile, notices this, and suspects her of being a corporate spy. And Edward, like an ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE, tells her that Vivian’s a prostitute. Phil LITERALLY IMMEDIATELY GOES AFTER HER, and solicits her like a fucking CREEP.

This obviously very much upsets her, and she chews Edward out back at the hotel. And the argument that follows IMMEDIATELY puts me on Vivian’s side, because Edward’s being a sociopathic douchenozzle. Goddamn. She rightfully wants to leave, and he just lets her. And here’s the real kicker; she doesn’t take the money.

And that’s when Edward sincerely apologizes to her, as best as he can. And yeah, he’s a little sociopathic, but I can see that the dude is trying? The two make up, and once again open up to each other. Edward starts to realize, in turn, that he legitimately has feelings for her. And we head into the third act of the film.

The next day, Edward leaves work early to go on a date with Vivian, and Phil asks if the date is with “the hooker.” And Edwards flashes him a look that’s just...knifey. I’m still not convinced he isn’t the Zodiac Killer. He takes her to an opera in San Francisco, before which we get this scene.

Adorable. God, I love Vivian. Also Dennis and Barney are the best, and they’re super fucking invested, and I am HERE for it. Their date to the opera is...sublime. Understand, my girlfriend and I watched this entire film together, and we’re both in love with Vivian and the opera after it. Imma take her to the opera on a date one of these days, I swear it.

That night, they play chess together, and Edward actually takes the following day off. He also actually sleeps in a bed for once, instead of going to work. And this is when my girlfriend the following phrase:

Is he sculpting her, or is she sculpting him?

OK, that fantastic question is one of the reasons we’re together, but also a very interesting point. Lemme explain here. This is very much a Pygmalion story in a few ways. While not a straight adaptation by any means, this film is definitely taking a few ideas from the Pygmalion trope. See, if you don’t know, Pygmalion’s a Greek myth about a sculptor who falls in love with his statue. It’s been adapted multiple times throughout the history of the arts, but the most prominent version of this was the stage musical My Fair Lady, famously adapted into a film starring Audrey Hepburn in 1964.

And again, a lot of adaptations of that, too. While Pretty Woman isn’t explicitly an adaptation of either work, the themes are still present in the work. So, yeah, it’s a good point. In this version, she’s changing him as much as he’s changing her. The sculpture is sculpting the sculptor. Which is cool.

And then, as we had that cute little revelation, Vivian tells Edward that she loves him. And OH FUCK. It’s the last day. And when he says he doesn’t want this to be the last of them together, she takes it as romantic. But when he essentially proposes making her a beck-and-call girl, putting her up in an apartment and hooking her up with dresses...she’s understandably not interested. She says that, as a little girl, she dreamed of a white knight that would sweep her off her feet and take her away. But Edward isn’t that knight.

Have I mentioned how much I love Vivian? Because Vivian’s fuckin’ fantastic, Jesus Christ.

Edward decides to leave, and says that he’s done all he can at this point. He leaves, and she’s shattered. Kit, meanwhile, comes to visit her at the hotel, and she admits that she’s fallen in love with him. While Kit’s initially worried about it, she says that they could maybe settle down and buy some diamonds and a horse. I also love Kit.

Meanwhile, at the meeting with Mr. Morse, Edward turns the tables on Phil and his yes-men, and asks to speak with Mr. Morse alone. Phil’s gobsmacked by this, but agrees. Once they’re alone, Edward admits that he no longer wishes to buy his company and destroy it. Instead, he wants to help him rebuild his company. And Morse agrees, telling Edward that he’s proud of him.

Phil, EXTREMELY irritated by this, and decided to make his way to talk to Edward at the hotel. And that’s when he finds Vivian. FUUUUUUUUCK. As expected, Phil tries to r*pe her, and that’s when Edward shows up, and BEATS THE FUCK OUT OF HIM.

Edward tells Phil off, calling him an EVEN BIGGER sociopath than he is, and kicks him out. Friendship ended with Phil. Now Vivian is his best friend. But despite this, Vivian still realizes that their relationship, at least the one she wants, seems impossible. Conceding, and on his way back to New York now, Edward pays her, and tells her to call him if she ever needs anything. 

But he asks her to stay one more night with him, not because of money...BUT BECAUSE OF LOVE. And she replies that she can’t...and they part ways. Vivian goes to say goodbye to Barney, who still rules. He calls a cab for her, and says that she can visit them anytime. My girlfriend says that she would leave me for Barney, and I agree. I agree so much, because she deserves the best, and the best is Barney, and I could never BE Barney. 

I could never be Barney.

It’s over now, as the song in the background says, and Edward laments his lost relationship as the thunder rolls in. Vivian decides to finally go to San Francisco, and finish high school, inspired by Edward’s love and faith for her. She passes that faith onto Kit as she says goodbye. Fuuuuuuck, man, this goodbye hurts as well.

Edward goes to the lobby, and talks to Barney one last time. AND BARNEY TELLS EDWARD WHERE VIVIAN WENT, LIKE A GODDAMN CHAMPION. WHY CAN’T I BE AS PERFECT AS BARNEY????

He makes his way to her apartment, and buys flowers from a woman with a Cockney accent, WHICH IS A MY FAIR LADY REFERNCE! HOLY SHIT! He arrives in a white limo at her place, overcomes his fear of heights and climbs a fire escape in a metaphorical tower to rescue his princess. 

THAT’S HOLLYWOOD, BABY! And it’s Pretty Woman as well. That was a very heartwarming film, and I’m very glad that I watched it! Is it perfect? Ehhhhhhhh, see you at the Review.

[chiseler]

The Silva Screen

Howard Da Silva 

Am I the only one who constantly gets character actors Howard Da Silva and Henry Silva confused? 

Howard Da Silva was born in Cleveland in 1909 and was working as a steelworker when he decided to go to drama school. He first appeared on Broadway at age 20, and made a name for himself playing Jud in the original production of Oklahoma!.

Da Silva (born Silvablatt) was a burly, jowly man with a boxer’s face, thinning hair and an unmistakable voice, half-midwest, half Lower East Side. He made the move to Hollywood in the mid-thirties and, over the next decade and a half established himself as a familiar screen presence playing gruff but ultimately understanding characters. He was the tough but fatherly criminal mentor in They Drive By Night, and Nat, Ray Milland’s wise but increasingly frustrated bartender in The Lost Weekend. He played opposite Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake in The Blue Dahlia, Edward G. Robinson and John Garfield in The Sea Wolf, and portrayed Wilson in the 1949 adaptation of The Great Gatsby.

After actor and fink Robert Taylor, while testifying as a friendly witness before HUAC in 1947, described Da Silva as a troublemaker “who always has something to say at the wrong time,” Da Silva himself was called to testify about his supposed communist sympathies. When brought before the committee in 1951, Da Silva became the first of over three hundred writers, actors and directors to refuse to answer questions, citing the Fifth Amendment. He was promptly blacklisted and for much of the next decade vanished from movie and television screens, though he continued to work in theater.

When he reappeared in the early Sixties, older, balder, and jowlier, he found himself playing an array of historical figures from Ben Franklin to Franklin Roosevelt to Boss Tweed to, ironically, Nikita Kruschev in The Missiles of October and Louis B. Mayer in Mommy Dearest. He also appeared in the 1974 adaptation of The Great Gatsby, this time around playing Meyer Wolfsheim. He made his final screen appearance in 1984’s Garbo Talks, and died of cancer two years later.

Henry Silva

Henry Silva, meanwhile, was born in Brooklyn in 1928. Although often accused of being Puerto Rican, he insisted his mother was Spanish and his father Sicilian. His father walked out on the family when Henry was three months old, at which point he and his mother moved to Harlem.

Silva, who had decided early on to become an actor, dropped out of public school at age 13 and enrolled in acting classes, taking a dishwashing job in a local hotel restaurant to help support him and his mother. Fourteen years later, he’d finally worked his way up the ranks to become a waiter in that same hotel.

Then twenty-seven, Silva, having grown into a darkly handsome young man standing six-foot-two, decided to apply to the Actor’s Studio, and was accepted. He soon made his Broadway debut in in 1956 in A Hatful of Rain, with classmates Shelley Winters and Ben Gazzara. The play became such a hit it soon landed Silva in Hollywood, where he co-starred in the 1957 film adaptation.

His commanding stature and sharp, angular, swarthy good looks not only made Silva an easy choice for producers looking for a suave but sinister villain, they also allowed him to play everything from Mexicans to Russians to Italians to Middle Easterners to Asians to Native Americans with very little extra makeup. He was a chameleon without even trying.

In the Fifties and early Sixties he played a string of suave and sinister gangsters, killers and thieves on TV series like The Untouchables, Climax and The Outer Limits and in films ranging from Green Mansions to Ride a Crooked Trail. He became a regular Rat Pack satellite, appearing in Ocean’s 11, Sergeants 3, and making guest spots on The Joey Bishop Show, as well as playing one of the evil stepbrothers in Jerry Lewis’ Cinderfella. In what may have been his breakthrough role, he again co-starred with Sinatra in 1962’s The Manchurian Candidate as the double-crossing Korean guide who delivers Sinatra’s company into the hands of those dirty commies. 

He earned his first starring role the next year as the titular Mob assassin Johnny Cool (co-starring fellow Rat Pack alumni Joey Bishop and Sammy Davis Jr.), after which he accepted an invitation from an Italian producer and moved his family to Rome. Over the next decade he would become a star throughout Europe, appearing in dozens of Spaghetti Westerns, occasionally even playing the hero.

He returned to the States in the mid-Seventies to once again co-star with Sinatra in 1977’s Contract on Cherry Street. Following that, he would spend much of the Eighties playing cartoon villains in comic strip movies (Buck Rogers, Dick Tracy) and and endless string of cheap jingoistic action films (Megaforce, Code of Silence), as well as a few sub-lowbrow comedies (Cannonball Run II, Lust in the Dust). He was admittedly spectacular  in his brief turn as Brock, the would-be Great White hunter out to kill a monstrous alligator roaming the Chicago sewer system in Lewis Teague’s 1980 darkly comic monster movie Alligator.

After co-starring in Jim Jarmusch’s 1999 Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai and a quick cameo in the 2001 remake of Ocean’s 11, Silva retired from acting at age 73.

But back to where all this started—namely, am I the only one who gets Howard Da Silva and Henry Silva confused?

Yes, Howard Da Silva was some twenty years older than Henry Silva. And yes, Howard was born in Cleveland to Jewish parents while Henry was a Spanish-Italian kid from Brooklyn. And yes, Howard was a steel woorker while Henry washed dishes in a hotel restaurant. And yes, Henry was some four inches taller than Howard, and had thick black hair to boot. Yes, Henry tended to play suave and sinister villains while Howard tended to play gruff but lovable types. Yes, Henry played everything from Italians to Mexicans to Asians while Howard was as decidedly American as they come, and yes, Henry is still alive while Howard died in 1986. But if you’re going to say “Yes, you dunce, you’re the only one who gets them confused, because you’re stupid,” consider the following.

First, Henry Silva’s official biography is suspiciously inconsistent. Despite repeated claims about his heritage, a 1930 U.S. Census entry states that both of Silva’s parents were from Puerto Rico. But I guess being half Spanish and half Sicillian is much more Romantic than being just another Puerto Rican kid from Brooklyn. That same form also lists Henry’s given name as “Harry.” What’s more, after supposedly working at the same hotel for fourteen years, shouldn’t he have worked his way up to something more than waiter? You’d think he’d at least be night manager or something, right? And despite his claims he made his film debut only after the 1956 Broadway  premiere of A Hatful of Rain, his first screen appearance was actually in 1952’s Viva Zapata!.

Now, given we can clearly not trust a thing Henry Silva says, or has ever said, about himself, ask yourself the following questions:

Is it mere coincidence that Howard Da Silva and Henry Silva, as prolific as both were, never appeared onscreen together? Their careers overlapped for some thirty years! What are the odds of that? I mean, Sinatra co-starred with Groucho Marx, for godsakes! 

 And is it sheer coincidence that Henry Silva’s film debut in Viva Zapata! occurred at the precise moment Howard Da Silva had been blacklisted? Think about it—Howard vanishes and Henry steps in. Hmm, right? Plenty of other blacklisted artists worked under the radar by using pseudonyms. Maybe Howard, given his troublemaking reputation, decided to take the idea of thumbing his nose at HUAC a few steps further.  I mean, take a look at the two of them side by side. Give Howard some lifts, a little swarthy makeup and a black toupee and BOOM! He’s Henry Silva.

And what better way to throw off the scent than to play a completely opposite character type from the one you were known for? And how better to flip the bird, just for fun, than by playing a bunch of evil communists and revolutionaries?

After the blacklist ended, Howard was faced with a dilemma. He could work again, which was great, but what to do about Henry? Kill him off? Retire him? His career had just taken off and was going great guns in the early Sixties. Then it struck him—with Henry still around, he had two solid income streams flowing. Why give that up? Both Howard and his alter-ego Henry were character actors, after all, meaning they were rarely needed on set for more than a couple days on each picture. Easy as pie to do a Howard role one day, then a Henry role at the end of the week.

My god, it’s all so perfect! What an ingenious scheme! And what better way to throw everyone off the scent for good than to have Howard “die” in 1986? At that point, after all, Henry was awfully busy with those stupid action movies that paid so well, while Howard’s own jobs were becoming more sporadic and low-profile.

So there you have it, and remember you read it here first—Howard Da Silva and Henry Silva WERE THE SAME PERSON! I likely never would have figured it out for myself had Howard just put another minute’s worth of work into choosing a name for his alter ego back in 1952.

By Jim Knipfel

[royalheroine]

Helen regretted arriving to new york city much earlier than her family. She arrived to see a stream of aliens coming through a big portal in the sky. She had to act fast. She should’ve run. Should’ve stayed in a cafe or something, but she did something highly impulsive. She fought.

She quickly found a broken pipe in the alleyway and started hitting at the aliens. The aliens started shooting bolts of light at her and she adapted by finding a broken off car door. She was surprised that it blocked most of the shots. She found herself protecting the stay victims and escorting people to nearby bulidings or outreach refugee camps.

Blood sprayed on her face while she stabbed a alien in the head with the sharp pipe. She didn’t notice the wound on her left side, and didn’t complain about the scratches and bruises on her legs. She just wanted it to end. She hoped her family is not here, even if they didn’t care about her. She then decided to head to the stark tower, maybe the aliens held hostages in there.

----

She found herself going up to the top floor after realizing that no one is being held hostage on the lobby floor.

---

The elevator door opened and she saw a man with raven black hair. Wearing a royal overcoat adorend with gold trimmings and fabric. He held a glowing scepter.

‘Shit did i just find the villian?!’ she thought to herself.

“And who might you be.” He smirked.

She carefully stepped out of the elevator. Trying to identify or at least avoid his attacks. Surviving multiple aliens seemed hard, but this encounter would be even harder.

“I-I thought people would be taken hostage in this tower- I think I thought wrong. Wait-” she looked at the crescent shaped charm on his chest.

“A-are you a god?” She asked. The symbol looked very similar to the symbol in her norse mythology storybook. The storybook that she read over and over again.

“Oh, so you know your place. You realize who I really am, your god.” He spoke to her.

“Y-are you- Loki?” She abandoned all feelings of fear and terror. Those feelings were replaced with feelings of childlike curiosity.

“Yes, how does a mere mortal know about my name?” He was curious too. He thought that mortals only knew about their own realm.

“Uh- apparently people from the past worshipped you, and Thor and Odin and others, they’re called Norse. And I guess they wrote stories about you! Stories that I read a lot. And, yeah, I know this is a really weird thing to say to someone who is invading your planet but- I- you’re my favorite god.” She looked away.

‘Thats my last words. I literally called my killer my favorite and I’m going to die. Great.’ She thought to herself.

Loki put down his scepter. He wanted to entertain this small, puny mortal. A mortal that didn’t seem to fear him.

“Come child.” He guided her to the bar.

—

“So, what do they say about me?” He asked her.

“Well… They said that you can shapeshift and that you had a baby with a horse.” She giggled. The god wrinkled the bridge of his nose.

“God, the way you mortals create stories are weird and highly inaccurate. I only raised a baby horse, not gave birth to it.” He clarified, leaning the scepter against the bar.

“I mean, you were not portrayed as wholly evil or wholly good, since mischeif is neutral in morality. Which means you’re not a villain. Right? She asked

“That’s where you’re wrong. My brother is a hero and I am the villain. A villain who is not even asguaridan.” He told her.

“Y-you’re also compared to your brother?” She asked shyly

“Yes, all the time.” He huffed

“Well, you’re in the same boat, my brother, Finn. He’s older, cuter, a golden child and good at everything. Meanwhile, you have me… Messy, uncoordinated and decided to fight instead of run away like anyone else.” She said.

“Fighting is a more noble pursuit than running.” he told her, but he noticed that she was bleeding on her side.

“Oh dear, that’s not a nice sight.” He carefully laid her down on the couch.

“W-what?” She was getting faint, she didn’t notice that she was bleeding out. Loki summoned a rag and started using his healing magic. But he had limited knowledge.

“Stay with me dear, once you wake up, we will rule together, besides, two monsters should shine in the sunlight.” He assured the sleeping child.

---

The girl woke up to see a group of heroes circling Loki. She stood up but her wound thobbed.

“Ah!” She dobled over. Clutching her side. A man dressed in blue and red came over to her.

“Did he hold you hostage?” He asked.

“No- I- he healed me.” She said grogilly. She didn’t realize that it was all over.

“Dear, you should’nt move as much.” Loki called to her. The blue hero looked confused.

“Ah- where is he going?” She asked.

“Back to asgard.” The blonde hero said.

“Are you Thor then?” She asked. Staggering once she stood up.

“Yes” He smiled lightly, probably trying to calm down the shaking child.

“Your age?” The blue hero said.

“11.” She meekly said.

“You hurt a child!” Thor shouted at Loki.

“No! He actually took care of me! We- had a conversation!” She shouted in protest.

“He hypnotized you.” The blue hero tried to get the situation straight.

“I WOULD NEVER! NOT A CHILD!” Loki shouted. Thor only put a mechanical gag on loki.

“I-i”

“Lets get you down, alright?” The blue hero gave a comforting smile.

She found herself stuffed in a small elevator with a bunch of heroes and a villain. She was slightly shaking from the excess adrenaline and the pain from the wound. Loki kept glancing at her, worried that she might faint from the blood.

“Sooo…. What is your name kid?” The man in the iron suit asked.

“Helen. Helen Conrad.” She told him.

“Well, lets lighten up! Lets all introduce ourselves. I’ll start off. My name is Tony stark! Real names only!”

“I am Steve Rodgers.” The blue hero smiled.

“Natasha Romanov.”

“Clint Barton.”

“Thor Odinson”

She smiled brightly. “Thank you for introducing yourselves!”

----

She found herself in the lobby, witnessing the fight over a glowing blue cube.

‘Why are they so obsessed with that cube?’ she asked herself.

--

“Your parents haven’t shown up.” Thor pointed out as they sat ontop of the car.

“Not surprised, probably busy with my brother.” She leaned back. Probably thinking that she’d just settle back into her normal life.

“What if you came with me. To Asgard.” He asked her.

She turned to him. “Y-you’d really bring me?” She asked.

“If your parents are as neglectful as they are, then I should probably just bring you to a better place. Your skills will be better cultivated on Asgard than with your parents.” He said.

“Also, you’ve made a profound impact on my brother, Loki. So would you be kind to come on behalf of him? He doesn’t show it but he’d like you to come too.” he asked.

“D-definately! Definitely!” She shouted. Jumping up and down.

“I-i- d-definately- w-wait. Give me a s-second.” She was getting too excited that her stuttering became apparent. She took a deep breath.

She gave a curt, “Yes. yes I would like to go.” She smiled. Thor grinned.

“You would definately love the palace.”

---

Loki and Thor held on to the container with the tesseract and Helen stood behind the container.

“Are you sure we should let a child go to a different realm with two gods, and one of them tried to invade our planet.” Steve asked Tony.

“I’m sure Thor would keep her safe, besides, we might have to hold her in the tower when she comes back.” Tony repled.

“Why?” Steve asked.

“I’m pretty skeptical about the fact that a child was able to battle her way into my tower and talk down the god of lies without getting killed in the process.” He remarked.

---

Helen was beamed in the entrance of the rainbow bridge. She walked with the two gods. One in chains and one with the hammer. She looked at the view of Asgard. It looked grander than she’d imagine. The golden towers were glistening in the sunlight. The rainbow bridge was translucent but had rainbow like branches pulsing through the bridge. She seemed scared to cross the bridge at first. Having a slight fear of heights. But Thor grabbed on to her hand and gave her comforting look.

Loki looked on, wishing he could do the same. But glad that his brother did it in his place.

---

Helen was being addressed by the king of Asgard. Odin.

“You have the heart of a heroine and the capacity to empathize with even the toughest of villains. Tell me, child. What is your name?” He asked her.

“He-he-Helen.” She stuttered. Cursing herself for stuttering in front of the king.

“Conrad.”

“Conraddotar?” Odin clarified

“You can call me that.” she said.

“Enjoy yourself at the palace, you are now considered royalty for extending your kindness to my son, Loki.” Odin said.

---

Helen wore a simple green gown. She was happily skipping around and exploring the palace.

“Helen, dear, can you come to me?” A voice sounded in the hallway.

She turned to see Queen Frigga.

“Let’s fix yout hair, shall we?”

--

Helen was sitting on Frigga’s bed while Frigga was braiding her hair.

“Thank you for everything that you’ve done. Tell me, Helen, what is your family like?” She asked.

“Well, I have a brother, and two parents. But my parents lives revolve around my brother. But- Im ok with that. I do things by myself and I got used to it.” She said.

“Ah- im sorry my dear. But here, there are servants and maids that can help you. So relax. I know how traumatic the invasion was, so I hope you realze that you are safe.

----

Helen was sitting on the steps, looking at Loki in his cell. She noticed that he has a lot of furniture in his cell. He was reading a book, and she was scribbling something in her notebook.

“Mind telling me what you’re writing down, dear?” He asked, thumbing through the pages.

“Uh-I-I’m actually d-drawing.” She said. Trying not to stutter.

“What are you drawing?” He asked.

“You.” She meekly said. Loki put the book on the table and walked towards Helen, he sat down in front of her.

“Mind showing me?” He smiled lightly.

She tore the page out and she showed it to him. It was loki and helen, under a flower tree. He was reading a spell out of the spell book.

“That looks adorable. When I escape, will you hand it to me?” He smiled.

“Of course.”

—-

“Do you like the accommodations in the palace?” Loki asked, hoping that they are taking care of her.

“Yes, but I wish I can enjoy them with you.” She answered. Twiddling her thumbs.

“So I decided to sit at your cell and talk to you!” She grinned. Loki’s heart melted. He’d never knew that he’d meet someone who was so naive and childlike. Enough to paint him as a positive figure. But he didn’t care. He just felt a sense of kindness towards her. He feels fond of her. He never realized that he was fawning over a mortal. Who’s life can flash before his eyes.

“That is great child.” He said.

“Wish I had my chello here, could’ve played you a tune.” She said. Loki used some of his magic to steal away a chello from the music room and teleported it here.

“Then play me a tune then.” He smiled

—

Loki was spellbound by the tune, she played a song that a mortal composed. But he didn’t know that the mortal is a master at music composition. Apparently the song was Blue Danube, by Johan Strauss. He swayed to the melody. By the time Helen was done he asked her a dozen questions.

--

“How long have you played?”

“5 years. Started at a young age, when my parents believed in my talents.” she told me.

“They should’ve known how bright you’ve shined.”

“Don’t blame them. They stop trying after finding out about my stutter.” She said.

“Your parent’s arent even parents.” I told her.

“I realized that when I hit 9.” she replied.

“Then maybe you should have a different father. Someone who adores you, who encourages you to be as different and unique as possible, who doesn’t compare you to anyone, who empathizes with you. Someone- someone like me.” He slowed his rant. Realizing something.

“D-do you want me to be your father?” He asked. Taking a big risk, being vulnerable .

“I-i-i’d lo-love yo-you to!” She was a stuttering mess, her brain was trying to process the proposal.

“Dear, slow down, take a big breath.” He grinned

“I would like for you to be my dad.” she slowly said. Tears coming out of her eyes.

“I would whipe those tears from your eyes but I’m stuck in this wretched cell.” He chuckled.

“I want to hug you.” She sniffled.

“You’ll get the chance.”

---

Everything was broken, damaged. But Helen rushed towards Loki’s cell. She just got word of Frigga’s death. And she didn’t want to lose her new father. She saw Loki in his cell, seeming to be fine. But she just broke out in sobs.

Her breathing was ragged. Tears flow through her eyes, and she was sniffling. She collapsed to the ground. Choking and crying. Crying for him, Loki. Feeling too much of his pain. Loki put down his defenses.

He had a green shirt but his hair was matted, her crawled to the crying child and wanted to reach out to her, but the barrier kept him from touching her.

“H-hey. Don’t cry-”

“You’re depressed so I’m depressed! I don’t want this to happen, for you to be sad! I-its my fault! I’m sorry. I-I. i’m- s-s-sorry. Mr. Loki! I-i have no-no right to be you-your daughter!” She was stuttering, trying to calm herself down. But the stale air and the buzzing barrier, it was hard to.

“No, don’t say that, you’re my daughter through and through. None of this was your fault. None of it. Please, stop crying for me.” He guided her to a deep breath.

“S-sorry.” she apologized for her shrill crying

“Don’t be sorry.” He smiled.

---

Helen gave Loki a big hug when Thor freed him from the cell. Loki returned the hug while threading his fingers through her braided hair.

“Darling, I have to help Thor. But I will come back.” he told her.

“A-are you sure?” She asked.

“One way or another. Yes.”

--

When Helen found out about Loki’s demise, she locked herself in the room and cried. She sobbed, blaming herself for letting him go alone. Hating herself. A knock sounded at the door. The door opened and she saw Odin.

“S-sorry if my cries are too loud.” she whipped her tears.

“It’s alright my child.” Odin sat at her beside.

“I-Lost my dad.” She stuttered.

“He said he’d come back-”

“One way or another.” Odin’s illusion was dispelled by Loki. He smiled kindly at her.

“I am sorry for causing you unnecessary pain. But I had to keep up the illusion for my safety.” He whipped her tears with his thumb. And enveloped her in a crushing hug.

“But now we can rule together. My little princess.” He smiled.

[thepaperpanda]

Fraidy-cat Girl || Arthur Morgan x Reader x Dutch Van Der Linde

||Part I||

Summary: With each passing day your relationship with Arthur and Dutch is deepening. But will the fierce and fearless outlaws be able to persuade you to get on the horse?

Warnings: none

Words: 1693

Authors: Cass & Rouge

The morning was peaceful.

The whole camp was mostly calm and quiet, just a few short talks could be heard through the camp.

 Dutch was sitting in his tent reading one of his books, while Arthur was sitting near the fire. He was still half asleep, drinking his morning coffee. "Mornin', Y/N." Arthur said, nodding at you as you walked past the campfire.

 Dutch smiled as soon as he saw you walking past his tent. "Y/N, my dear! How are you today, can walk just fine I see." He teased you.

 You smiled shortly at him, blushing at his words. These two men could be the death of you anytime soon.

 You made yourself coffee and sipped on hot, bitter liquid. "How do you feel, Dutch?," you asked walking closer to the man.

 "I am fine as you can see." He said presenting himself to you. "How are you, I hope we didn't hurt you too much last time," Dutch said looking up and down at you. "Any plans for today?"

 Arthur joined both of you soon.

 "No plans. I'll clean our place a little, and well, today's my shift with horses, aye," you gasped sadly rubbing your temple. "You both know how much I hate it. Arthur, maybe you could kind of do my job, I'd take your duties."

 Arthur laughed. "I would like to see a pretty, skinny lady like you taking John and Micah to rob a bank, sweetheart," he shook his head. "No can do, Y/N. My duty doesn't suit lady like you."

 "I'm afraid Arthur is right, my dear. Robbing and killin' ain't for ya. You have no experience when it comes to this," Dutch nodded his head.

 "Why you hate horses anyway? It's not like you see them for the first time. I thought you said your pa had few at his ranch when you were little," Arthur asked resting his hands on his belt.

 You nodded at Arthur's words. "Yes. Indeed, my father used to have horse's on his ranch. He used to breed them. I hate them even now, when I was seven I was beaten by a horse. I was wearing huge bruise on my left palm," you explained. "That's why I'm mostly afraid of them. They're killers, silent ones...," You said openly. "Don't giggle, Morgan!," you frowned seeing how Arthur covered his mouth with hand. "I mean it! And well, I have experience in killing and robbing... I robbed... I mean... Okay. You got me. No experience."

 "I'm a sorry, sweetheart, but it's kinda funny. Horses ain't that scary nor they are killers! They are nice and kind creatures that help us work and bond with us," Arthur said and rubbed his chin, looking at you. "You can't even shoot, Y/N," he reminded you.

 Dutch laughed listening to Arthur's talk about horses. "That's right, son. Without horses, we would get too far," he said. "Shall we take care of Y/N's fear?"

 "I think we should," Arthur said with a big grin on his face.

 You weren't happy about their agreement. Yet you followed Dutch and Arthur.

Horses were always your disadvantage but you would never claim it openly.

 "I think we shall go to stable and get Y/N her own horse so she can get used to the animal," Dutch said and mounted his horse.

 "I guess you are right. Hope on, darlin'," Arthur said looking at you. He frowned when he received no reaction from you. "Sweetheart, don't ya tell me you even can't get on the horse. Really?"

 "Shut up, Morgan or everyone at the camp is gonna learn how do you suck on your thumb during nights," you growled. "No. I can't get on that bastard," you said looking at Dutch. "Is it really necessary?"

 Arthur blinked at your weird comment. "I dunno whatcha talking about, girl, but I have more interesting information about what you can suck," he rolled his eyes and mounted his horse.

 Dutch looked at you. "Well, if you don't want to simply run all the way to town then yes. It's necessary, my dear."

 "I always can tie her up and just throw her on the back of my horse," Arthur suggested with a soft chuckle.

 "Arthur!," Dutch scolded the other man and shook his head. "Come on, dear. You will ride with me."

 You blinked and opened mouth at Arthur's comments. "You're mean, fella," you informed him and climbed with problems onto Dutch's horse. "Oh, God, why this creature has to be that tall!"

 Dutch laughed and helped you sit in front of him. "I think Arthur is honest, Y/N. To answer your question, there are bigger horses," he hummed and gently kissed your shoulder, wrapping his arm around your waist to make sure you won't fall.

 "Let's just go before our lady gets too scared," Arthur said.

  When you all got to the stable you went with Arthur to look at the horse. "Look, it ain't gonna bite," man took your hand and put it on horse's nose.

 Horse only huffed through its nostrils and gently licked your palm. Arthur patted the horse and looked at you.

 Meanwhile Dutch was looking for, as he stated during the way, 'the BEST equipment' for his lady.

 At first you were about back you hand and run away but you stayed on place. "It's fluffy a little," you told Arthur as you patted horse's nose. "It tickles!"

 For the very first time you stepped into a real stable. When you were a little girl you were always too scared to attempt this. But now, when Dutch and Arthur were by your side, you felt brave enough.

 "Nice and soft like some kind of a fancy material. Go on, pick a horse you like the most. Don't be afraid," Arthur said rubbing your back. "I will better go check on Dutch before he gets ya a gold saddle with fancy diamonds in it," he laughed and walked away.

 You walked from horse to horse. One started paying more attention to you. It looked curiously at you and started to sniff your hair moving them gently with its muzzle.

 "Oh Gosh, Morgan! Morgan, horse tries to eat my hair! Help me, save me!," you screamed after Arthur but eventually you started petting horse's nostrils and head. "You ain't that scary..."

 Arthur looked over his shoulder as he heard your screams but when he realized you were fine he simply shook his head and returned to Dutch.

 Horse let out a quiet mutter and nuzzled to your shoulder before placing its head on it.

 "Dutch! Dutch, love, come here!," you said loudly as you were standing still.

 When Dutch and Arthur came closer, you posed and smirked. "I think I've made a new friend, what do ya think, fellas?!"

 They looked at each other and nodded.

"Well, if horse picks you, you can't really argue with that, dear," Dutch said with a smile.

 Arthur looked at the horse and hummed.

"Nice and young Appaloosa and its lady. You will have a lot of time to teach her stuff and bond with her properly," Athur smiled and waved to stable workers. "EY! Fellas! We take this horse," he shouted. Then he looked back at you. "Think about the name when we will take care of the papers," Arthur told you.

 You nodded and thought for a second. "I have one name, I'm not sure if it's gonna suit her... I thought about Calisto," you said shyly.

 Dutch clasped his hands. "AMAZING, DARLING! It sounds so beautiful and poetic. Just like your name," he said, wrapping his arm around your waist.

 After a few moments, Calisto was yours, you got the papers that you are the owner and you got the most expensive saddle and halter.

All three of you walked back to the camp, guiding your horses behind.

 "Y/N? I think it's time for you to learn how to ride a horse. You have your horse now, so? Get on," Dutch said.

 "I can show you," Arthur added quickly.

 "Nah," you waved hand and slowly climbed on the horse's back. "I think I know how to do this. I have just buck my hips back and forth, just like when I am riding one of you," you said happily.

 Arthur watched your clumsy way of getting on the horse, he wanted to laugh.

 Dutch stopped you and asked to get down, when you did, he smiled softly. "My dear, I think you really need to learn how to do it right. Look at your saddle. You have stirrups there, put your feet in them and pull yourself up," he said and showed you what to do.

 "And make sure to keep your feet in these. They will make sure you won't fall out of the saddle," Arthur added, improving his hat. "Grab the reins rightly and gently nudge your horse on the sides. You can also swing your reins."

 You did as Dutch and Arthur instructed you. It seemed so easy after their advices and soon you were sitting in the saddle like a pro.

 "Our girl is growing up so quickly, Arthur," Dutch said and looked at Arthur as their horses started to move.

 "Yea, let's just hope she won't fall out from the saddle and get scared again," Arthur commented, looking at you.

 You pretended that you didn't hear them and you nudged your horse's sides gently. "As you might be witnessing now, I can handle horse riding pretty well," you said. "Now, let's move your asses, fellas, there's still a lot of to do around the camp. And I have to brush my lady," you smiled petting horse's ear.

 Dutch laughed loudly. "So? How about the race, huh? Arthur?"

 Arthur nodded. "Sure, Dutch."

 Dutch smiled at you. "The last person in camp is fucking only once tonight!," he informed before his horse started to gallop.

 Arthur's horse quickly followed him, leaving you behind.

 You frowned and tried to force your horse to run faster but mare refused and she was walking with steady pace. You rolled eyes. "I'll teach you how to obey, horsy. I fucking will."

Pandies🐼: @imidarogerson @grossograsso @thewildgardensstuff @leven-and-ashley @la-verdura @bearded-steve-rogers @sebbystan-plantlover @atuckyismylife @krispyjellyfishzombie @personality-within @haseki-huricihan @choppedgardenwhispers @vroobelek @lattimelka @chris-beamz @hidden-secrets69 @purepearls @volcanoxxx @kastrup-sofie @mikkal-akasaki @withoutashadowofhope @radbluebirdeagle @marvel-fan-site @smutloversblog @buquete @super-psycho-love69 @tanglesss @peter-sommer @baysidewest @vegemania @philip-stan @chodiusmmm @subwaystunnel @tykorclint @dagger-dragger @kurant @nothing-can-least-forever @oxfordkipem @deliciousbouquet90 @tuptuptup @hellenna80 @karina-marina9 @latimeriaaa @bratko @wurld89 @scott-evans @kiss-me-rouge @ovonel-espaniol @dancing-tacco @ratugadhi @white-tiger-shangrila @axn69 @eternal-life-awaits @mrs-laura-harmon @artsy-inside @gleeeeees @darkllaama @jatut @agawux @fuzzy-tigrrr @jrjohnsson2 @maaargoshaaa @dontgetmewrongman @einexx @nwmtagsb @anini71 @kyloren-supreme-ben @infinity-stones-seeker @thehappyspider @wings4life @huxyluxy @dontbeafraidchild @misafiryanki @electronicpatrolcollective @thisismysecrethappyplace @aulika @hidden-secrets69 @a-happy-wolf @creative-seahorse @biologyforliving @arthurmorgan-bae

[thanksjro]

Polyhex Wars, Book 2 Part 2: The Role of the Waifu This Evening Will Be Played by Ammo

Previously, on The Polyhex Wars…

Hound and company have found themselves at a docking station simply awash with Decepticons and their pods, having just arrived on Cybertron from Autobot City, all of them complaining about how Optimus’ new powers totally kicked their keisters. Some of them are wondering just where Starscream got to.

Hound's eyeing a big ol’ ship, but if he wants it, he’s going to need to come up with some sort of plan. He comes up with one, and it involves Ammo because of course it does.

Hound has a small holographic projector built into his wrist, which can do small-scale holographs- nothing too crazy, but he can disguise himself long enough to get to that ship. From there, he’ll overload the power systems for this area, creating a distraction.

You betcha, Buster Brown. Ammo’s role in this will require the use of his alt-mode. If you guessed that Ammo turns into a gun, congratulations! You’d be right.

Carrying straps don’t exist on Cybertron, and it’s solely so folks like Hound can slap their crushes to their thighs.

Hound’s about to head off, when he realizes that Fistfight isn’t in his direct line of sight. Blaster, when asked why he isn’t doing the one thing he’s been asked to do, brushes it off, saying that Courier is watching him. Any way you slice it, this sounds like a horrible arrangement: either Fistfight’s about to get offed, or you just left a dangerous killer with one of the smallest members of your team. Blaster, what the hell?

While Hound and Blaster are hashing it out, Courier points out an alarm system. I give it five minutes before that thing gets pulled like a fire alarm in a middle school on a snow day.

Meanwhile, up above on the surface of the planet, the Autobots have landed and are currently faced with the enemy swarming up from underground in the thousands.

Hmm, yes, I remember you.

Roberts really enjoys massacring the polity of Polyhex. It’s probably because so much shit is just happening there all the time.

Obviously, Optimus isn’t having any issue in this fight, going so far as to save Trailbreaker’s hide via eye lasers.

Wonder how Red Alert’s team is doing.

Not great, if that delightfully purple prose is anything to go by.

The Autobots are being loaded into those electric chairs we saw in Part 1, And Red Alert’s wondering how it all got to this point. Like, why the hell would Megatron had set up a throne in the underground pseudo-grave of their creator god? How was he supposed to figure that one out?

There’s this odd feeling of pride as nobody begs for their lives as they’re prepared to be electrocuted- at least they’ll still have their dignity, even if they won’t have their lives for too much longer.

Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Red Alert trade some Shakespeare-level insults with Megatron, up until he gives the order to kill the Autobots.

Red Alert, why do you even know what sputum is?

Back over with Hound, he’s just made it past the guard at the ship, all decked out in a disguise that makes him look like the mid-90s punk scene chewed him up and spat him out. As he’s doing his thing, the sounds of the battle above start trickling down into earshot. Hound aims Ammo and gets ready to blast the ship’s generator.

Back where the Autobots are hiding, Blaster is once again not paying attention, not realizing that Bumblebee’s being held at gunpoint by Shockwave until the guy notices that he’s not being answered. Fantastic work, Blaster.

Blaster’s communicator goes off, which, really, is just too bad, because it alerts Shockwave to Hound’s location. He points his gun-hand at the ship and fires, blowing the whole thing sky high, probably taking a few of the nearby Decepticon guards along with it.

Apparently having seen too much shit today to even process the very probable chance that Hound and Ammo are now dead, Blaster snarks at Shockwave, ignoring the gun now being put to his head to get in kissing distance so he can punch the guy in the gut. Cover blown, Blaster orders his team to start kicking ass.

Back with Red Alert, the execution’s been postponed, because Starscream’s decided to crash the party. Red Alert manages to break free of his bonds as complete and utter chaos unfolds. Seeing as the two Decepticons are currently busy trying to kill each other, the Autobots decide to take their leave. Too bad reinforcements have arrived, shimmying down ropes in the hallway- and they’re not the kind they were hoping for.

Returning to the scene with Blaster, it’s real revenge hours, as the Autobots use the rage they’ve been saving up for the last several hour on the hordes of Decepticons that are just pouring into the room at this point. They’re so mad, when Blaster gets ahold of Skywarp he immediately goes NOPE and pops out of there.

Suddenly, the flaming crater that once was the ship reveals that the ship is fine, actually, with Hound and Ammo posing all badass on the hood as Hound starts shooting for the generator up in the ceiling. This turns the lights out, and when the emergency lighting kicks on, the Autobots book it to that ship and climb aboard. They’re leaving.

Up with Optimus, it’s Hot Rod time. After almost being blown up, Hot Rod reports that the Decepticons have deployed all of their troops- and he does mean all of them- and suggests that the Autobots do the same. Optimus says that they already HAVE everyone deployed, then in the same breath annihilates a group of ‘Cons with the wave of a finger. Do you really need more troops at this point?

Guess Swindle’s inexplicable plot-armor didn’t grow in until 2001.

Hot Rod reminds Optimus that Red Alert and Hound’s teams aren’t currently up here fighting, as if they’re just sitting around twiddling their thumbs while all this nonsense is going on. Again, do you really need more troops at this point?

Skystalker has a ship floating above Optimus currently, and is about to try and bomb him out, when he too explodes. Then Snapdragon and Sky Quake explode.

Optimus likes exploding people. Nobody tell Hound, because I’m pretty sure that kills them, and that’s just NOT the Autobot way.

Hot Rod, much like everyone else, wants to know how he does it. Optimus reiterates that he doesn’t know, only that he’s been able to do it since he got back from Limbo. Saying it out loud gives him pause.

Optimus orders Hot Rod to go do a search and rescue for the missing teams, then disappears from this mortal plane. Hot Rod, having decided he’s got going to be the one to try and parse the mystical bullshit that Optimus seems to be dealing with currently, runs off to pull together a search party, only to be crushed under Skystalker’s ship.

Hopping back a whole two minutes in time, Hound’s firing the ship’s weapons through the Decepticon forces, being an absolute terror. Blaster’s trying to figure out just how they’re going to leave, seeing as their ship’s been damaged enough to not be able to go up. After a bit of banter, the Autobots notice something standing in the port menacingly. It’s a Decepticon Imperial Guard. The last time we saw one of these guys, it thought it was god and had to get smacked around by Nightbeat’s atheism.

Figuring the worst that could happen is that they all die, Hound whips the ship around and heads for one of the massive holes in the floor that connect to the thrusters stuck into Cybertron at present. They fall in, and since that explosion destroyed the windshield, they’re subjected to all the detriments of terminal velocity. Hound unstraps from his chair and floats up to the back of the ship to see if anyone can make forcefields.

Luckily there is a guy, and his name is Blocker. Blocker does his thing, and everyone braces for impact.

Blocker’s name was recycled in the IDW prose story Out of Bullets, which was a sort of deleted-scene story that connected to Bullets. In it, he was a member of the Wreckers, and ultimately was removed from the team after he was found chewing on a dead friend’s transformation cog. Hopefully he gets a little less of a gruesome characterization here.

Over in the Primus chamber, it’s 30 seconds earlier. Whether this means it’s 30 seconds before Hound’s thing, or 30 seconds before the two minutes we went back earlier isn’t clear. What is clear is that the Decepticon reinforcements are here for Starscream, who immediately shreds them like wet tissue paper. Even Megatron’s afraid!

Screaming for help as he’s pinned by Starscream, he immediately appeals to the Autobots’ better nature, saying that he’ll abort the Juggernaut plans if they stop him from being killed. Everyone is completely on-board to just let Megatron eat it.

Everyone except Slapdash, for some fucking reason. The Autobots run after the little idiot, all of them jumping onto Starscream, instead of just grabbing their wayward moron and bolting for the exit. Predictably, this does nothing to stop the guy, who proceeds to throw all of them, along with Megatron, so hard off of him that they imbed into the wall.

That’s about the time that Hound’s ship crashes through the ceiling and crushes Starscream. Is it blasphemy or heresy when you destroy a religious monument? Because the Primus chamber’s been through the wringer at this point.

While all this is happening, Optimus seems to be having a spiritual journey of some sort, as he finds himself in Iacon, facing the Last Autobot, a guardian of sorts put in place by Primus himself to guide the Cybertronian race if needed. Optimus is kind of annoyed to have been pulled away from the battle, but hears the guy out, seeing as he seems to know what’s going on with these powers. Also, because he’s very large and intimidating, and brushing him off is probably a one-way ticket to robot hell.

So, because Optimus somehow became the storehouse for an entire not-dimension, he’s going to die if he doesn’t pawn off these powers to someone even more powerful than himself. Which, you know, is probably going to be a little difficult, seeing as he’s Optimus friggin’ Prime. Optimus brushes this off, ready to get back to the fight he’d been so rudely removed from.

Back at the crash site, it’s time to count the dead bodies. We’ve got Flanker, Dipshot, Counterblast and Transit. Megatron peels himself off the wall and quickly returns with his reinforcements, who I guess were just kind of standing around waiting for their boss to give the okay. Maybe they’re vampires and have to be invited in.

Starscream digs himself out from under the ship, mad as a hornet. His face is missing, which is a fun thing. Megatron orders his men to fire on him, and Starscream just wipes the floor with them immediately. Megatron then attempts to ally himself with the Autobots, just as Starscream throws a girder and pins Hound and Courier, promptly knocking them out.

Up on the surface, Optimus Prime is posing on a mountain very dramatically as he summons his troops- quite literally. All those in the Primus chamber are immediately transported to the mountain, and with that all the Autobots are gathered in one spot.

And that’s the end of Book 2.

[kaiju-z]

Seon Adventures Episode 11: “ The Shopping Trip (FROM HELL!!!) ”

We continue right where we left off (with a slight retcon, to where Luctan and Mournimar had given Burk directions to a fight club, should he find the time.)

As the tieflings (one in human disguise, naturally), walk about to find the  Abbacus Walk library, they notice  there’s a lot of variety in the races in Sa Doma (It would appear that the closer they get to Crystalgate, the more variation there is). On the South side of town, the usual combo is Humans, Half-Elves and Halflings, with a variety of giant folk and lizard people as they pass along.

While they pass the entrance from which they came, they get weird looks from the two red tiefling guards, that Luctan had taken notice of earlier, but nothing really dings for either side as the boys make a slight detour to the “Queen Nightingale” tavern.

A family establishment, in both senses of the word as adults and hang around, sit around and play around, with a muscular half-elven server giving some entertainment to the kids.

While a little tiefling girl and a goliath boy play tag around them, Luctan overhears and snoops in on a family unit of half-elves, who are in talks with the barkeep, whom we later learn is Medive (or s we figured already, since Gorruk did point it out). The family are to make a trip to Crystalgate in the next couple of months. One they usually  make for a year’s time.

Luctan manages to play things cool as he falls onto the male elf, only getting a slight chiding to lay off the drinking, while Mournimar talks acquaintances with Medive and elaborates on how Gorruck is doing. “A friend of Gorruk is a friend of mine.” Medive says as he continues to give us some advice on Sa Doma.

Things we had already heard from Ficus, mostly.

What we don’t know, but now learn, is that Medive is a married man, husband to the half-elven yolked fellow named Rufus.

Luctan and Mournimar are given advice to stay away from the taverns in the Southern part of the city, as that is where trouble lies (REMEMBER THIS FOR LATER!), but should they look for work, as they appear the adventuring sort, they could speak with the Lawmaster there, as they usually have work that the Dark’sbane army would vehimetly refuse to partake in.

What’s more, the priestes of Bellinas has been having trouble lately,s what they learn.

With nothing else to add to the conversation, the boys decide to take a seat and eat some fine meats and drink some fine drinks (whiskey and brandy respectively).

While the boys nom, we cut to Belli and Ficus, who are on their way to the temple of Keemis, Goddess of Birth and Death, with Ficus having re-disguised himself as a human man.

Before long they would arrive at the temple of Keemis. It seems to be a lot more simplistic in design, compared to others. The symbol of a snake eating it’s own tail on it.  Belli points “Hey, look! It’s like what Fantasy Marylin Manson tried to do.”  Belli does not approve of the minimalism. Hoards and shinys, do.

Going inside, the duo meet up with Kit, presenting herself as her usual changeling self, and a purple tiefling man named Rosef, a friend of the two rogues and, as it has been set up from last session, a drug dealer.

What follows is a introduction for and to Belli, before the trio aquire Summershade for themselves. A type of experimental batch. How experimental? This is the second batch, basically. (Belli ain’t no pussy. She wants that good shit.)

Before the three leave together, they talk of the gods. “Keemis will take us when our time is right. Why not enjoy ourselves until then, you follow?!”Rosef states. And absolutely doesn’t believe Belli when she claims they met Dyunificus (or a representation of him at least).

As the three make their leave to do the drugs, some Beli/Kit flirting happening in the process, we cut to Burk, who gets a room for himself and Rimefang, where he tries to hold a conversation with his baby boy, whomst he has adopted.

Sadly, he can’t understand draconic and Rimefang becomes visually perplexed (MAYBE EVEN SAD?!) that his Goblin dad doesn’t get his lingo. It doesn’t take Burk long to go and look for a translator, lucking out with a Lizardfolk man, whom helps him with some mediating with Rimefang. So far he’s called Burk “Dad” in Draconic.

And advice to help the little one learn common.

And so comes the time for Rimefang’s first word in Common.

“Kill.” Burk is a froud FÄTHER.

Returning back to their room,  Burk gives bedtime stories for Rimefang. “And then everyone died.”Rimefang is picking up random words. He calls Burk “Dad”.

Back with the tieflings, they leave the tavern after a hearty meal and double pistols and a wink. And make their way to the place they were originally planning on going. 

Luctan talks with a prostitute along the way, having noticed that she seemed quite miserable. But his kind gesture only earns him smoke, from her cigarette, to the face.

Luctan retaliates, by leaving and using thaumaturgy to make a loud crashing noise inside the establishment she works off from. Though she doesn’t go in.

They eventually reach the Library Tavern, where the atmosphere inside is warm and welcoming. A magical fire heats the building’s insides from the fireplace as the two take note of all the shelves. It’s actually kind of wild how many books are in here.

Each tiefling checks for a book that would interest them. Mournimar finds his quarry imediatelly, a book on the constellations. A guide with many pictures, and takes to a sofa,to do some reading.

Meanwhile, Luctan gets his hands on a book by some weirdo named “Taryon Darrington” and immediatelly doesn’t believe the guy’s legit in his writings. This all seems frankly made up. Really?! A Kraken?!

Instead, he continues with his search and then gets something that really catches his eye. The book “ Haanderstaad “,  Scribed by “Gillan Monroe and written by Kheya Steelheart, a brave dwarven woman and adventurer in her own right.

It writes about the misdeeds of a clan of bandids. Mountainspine” is the clan. Referred to often as simply... The Spine.  - A Tribe of Dwarven bandits from about 10 years back and how they would take advantage of the effort of war to increase their raids. It told of how they’d get more powerful, the trials and tribulations of living this lifestyle and the lessons one could take from it.

Taken interest, the two proceed to buy these two books from a very strong, elderly Goblin woman, whom Mournimar is just aghast by, but Luctan is just completely giddy over.

With a transaction made, the two proceed to Peppery Pete’s.

All the while, Amelia keeps on snoozoing. Good times.

Back with the trio, they eventually reach Ficus’ hideout after much walking and flirtations with orcish fellows.

There, they do drugs and it basically plays off like every video of a bunch of cats on catnip. Lots of face touching and poking and drawing dicks on Ficus face. So many dicks. So many.

So. Many.

That and Ficus drinks a potion, which makes his veins glow a bright blue. Which Belli adds to with the Dancing Lights, basically creating a mini-rave inside of this safe house, where talks of waifus and whatnot occurs.

There was cake at some point in their backstory. It was wild. Ficus is sometimes so proud.

As the girls go outside, we cut back to Luctan and Mournimar, who manage to score a Bag of Colding from Peppery Pete’s, along with a business arrangement to represent him and his wares during the Festival in less than two months in Crystalgate. Some pricess lowered, naturally. There is also talk of magical items and enchantments to be applied, if possible.

The boys get some information on the tournament. Some that they knew, about the accidents that may happen,and some that they didn’t, that every faction on the continent gets represented during the tournament. Usually by teams of 4-5 members.

As the conversation draws to an end, they get more information on the priestess of Bellinas’ woes. There’ve been disappearances happening lately and Potencia worship has been occuring more often than not.

That said, the boys make their leave from Peter’s and proceed to gather the rest of the party, having decided to investigate these happenings.

Amelia, with a killer hangover, joins them and they soon collect Burk and Rimefang. Together, the six (Amelia, Burk, Luctan, Morgan, Mournimar and Rimefang) get to Keemis’ temple and speak with the high as a kite Rosef, explaining their search and want to involve themselves in the drama involving Potencia’s worshippers.

Rosef sighs, elaborating that he doesn’t involve himself with other deities, beyond his own. They eventually leave and carry on Northward, searching for the next 1-2-3-4 hours (and that’s with a roll of 19! Seriously, the tiefling boys were pretty on their game this day with same rolls).

They eventually find Belli, alongside a disguised Kit. Whom appears to them as a pink tiefling (the ribbon tied to her right horn). They are writing weird symbols on the wall of the temple of Honos.  Belli’s high af. And neither of the ravenhaired boys notice it.

They try to bring Belli along, back to the taver, having realized they’d have to update everyone in the morning. With a 19 roll, Lucky Luck Luckily picks up Belli over his shoulder and does the carrying, while getting “pounded by mighty fists” on the back. Ah, sibling shenans.

Everyone gets rooms!

Burk and Rimefang share a bed, as they are small sized, Amelia takes a room for herself with a double bed, getting all that room to sleep in and the remaining four take a third room, where Morgan guards the door, while Belli sleeps on top of the tieflings, while Luctan does some reading (as best he can).

Belli has completed her quest! (Full Steamer Ahead).

The following day, they are woken early on by the quaking of the ground (Luctan gets blamed, since he did do an earth shake on the way back, passing by the prostitute’s establishment).

His innocence is soon established as the bunch exit the building, seeing a pillar of smoke rise to the sky from far away. History tells Belli, Burk and Mournimar that this is from a volcano, which hasn’t errupted in 2,000 years!

Having updated each other on the Potencia activity and thinking it connected somehow (*cough, it’s not, as our Dm stated later on, since this was related to the ball from sessions 7-8) and the party takes off to the temple of Bellinas, where a motherly human woman in sleepwear stands outside, tired and slightly graying. 

The Priestess with a very elaborate facial scar, introduces herself as Nash and we, in turn, introduce ourselves by names and party. (Apt, as this Side-Quest is called “Who you gonna call?!” She looks confused as Belli introduces herself, seeing as she shares a name with Nash’s Godess). We learn more of the disappearances. Details, such as places of vanishment and common patters, like the drunk, the lonely, those who wouldn’t be missed. The usual victims, basically.

She, Nash, radiates that Big Mom energy and (I can say this as Luctan’s player at least, Luctan feels a great urge to help her, regardless. He is the momma’s boy of the party. It’s him.) is a bonafide doo-gooder. Gosh darn heck it!

We agree to help, having experience with taking down cults (Word travels fast, even in a low tech world as this) and Nash is impressed. With all possible details that we can think of being covered, The party sets off to the Southern part of town.

(TOLD YOUUUU!)

We find ourselves in one of the locations that Nash gave us, that of the  The Scared Heart tavern. A fucking dingy place, where we pass by a smiling troll man (nice guy, totes), before entering. Inside, we speak with the barkeep, regarding the missing man, who had been working here. And we pay him, a Golliath, 10 gold to make a quick investigation.

Burk does good with a roll of perception, recognizing someone.

One of his three targets. A red tiefling with blue hair, a dagger at his side. One, whom recognized Burk’s armor the moment he had entered and had looked away. Possibly, thanks to Mournimar speaking with him and the man’s rude response, it’s when it clicked for Burk. The man, who killed his cousin Sam.

As the quartet  make their way up the stairs, Burk hands Rimefang to Amelia, while he approaches the devil man, sweating buckets at the mere presence of the scarred Gorbarian (I WILL MAKE THIS A THING, DAGNABBIT!)

Burk confronts the man. And bluffs that he wants to hire him for a job, asking him what his opinion was of goblins. “Feral, violent things.”

Burk corrects the man that most goblins aren’t violent. Except himself. 

He rages.

And he lops off the deep red tiefling’s arm, spraying the room with plenty of blood.

He soon knocks the slayer of his kin out and bribes the Golliath with all the gold he has, to keep him quiet. As this is the shadiest part of town, it works. He takes a room, where he plans to spend some quallity time with his victim, while Amelia is urged by the Golliath to collect water and clean up the mess Burk made.

Rimefang at her side, having to be held back by Amelia as Burk takes the unnamed tiefling away.

Upstairs the four go and investigate for any clues, but beyond the symbol of Potencia, we don’t find anything of note, sadly. Deciding to move on with a different location, nearby, they ask Amelia to avoid drinking, so as not to make herself a target, while she waves at them with the lopped off arm of the tiefling. (It’s been a day, man. It’s been a daaaay.)

From the second location, Mournimar gets a familiar feeling and theorises that Lazarus is involved here... But as it were, he can’t be sure. Outside the building we find a trail of blood and footsteps in the dirt and with Morgan’s experr snoofer, we reach the back of a tavern, called “The Venomous Row.”

The backdoor is closed, locked even. 

Some planning occurs and, with 20 minutes of Pass Without a Trace to spare, the trio collect the rest of the party, but Burk and go back to the backdoor of the tavern.

Ficus opens the door with a Knock Spell and inside we investigate the stench coming off of the barrels...

Much to our shock, we find a body, in rigor mortis, cut apart in one of those barrels. The target, based on his condition, we deduce that he was very much alive, while he was being destroyed. The torture lasting for days, before the man passed.

With a 21 history check, Mournimar recognizes the handy work and remembers the person, whom would have done this.

Not Lazarus.

But Kah’lia Da’vir. Mournimar’s very much living mother.

The boy is in panic and is comforted by Belli and Luctan, who keep him safe and sane in this trying time.

The lot agree to collect Burk and take their findings to the Lawmaster. (Along the way,  Amelia wiggles her brows, when Belli mentions that Amelia could yeet Mournimar out of a window, while they make plans on how to proceed ahead).

With a clean Burk at their side, they visit the Lawmaster’s building, but are forced to partake in the buroacracy of talking to fucking Stacy. The Half-Drow secretary, who keeps talking about appointments and shit.

This leads them to nowhere. Not even Amelia exhuding that Big Lesbian Energy can help them. Stacy is such a Stacy.

With their attempts not working out, Luctan decides to take the reins of the situation and heads off, followed by a determined Mournimar. Everyone goes along as they draw close to the tavern, before Luctan nods for Mournimar to follow him in a back alley.

Luctan takes his ring off and hands it to Mournimar. In case they find MarMar’s mother inside they’d need time to prepare if they have an all out battle with the cultists of Potencia...

Mournimar takes the ring, puts it on and takes the form of “Michael Moonglow”, aka. “Mike”.

Walking out, Ficus is, to say the least, very impressed with Luctan’s true form. Luctan appreciates this.

This settled, the bunch take to “The Venomous Row”’s front entrance, going in. All of us. All Nine of us. With Morgan and Rimefang. (In hindsight, we should have had a few folks come in from the front and a few from the back, but aah, emotions were on high and Wisdom is in low supply).

Taking to a table, Luctan can tell that at least five people have their eyes on the Cultbusters:  Two bartender women, two patrons sitting at a table with another person (at another angle), a man sitting next to a male bartender and a man sitting next to a fireplace. And shares with the gang.

There is a backroom, on the other side of the bar and Belli sends her familiar, in fly form, to investigate.

There, he finds a ravenhaired woman and a man, who is writing down something.  As this is happening, Luctan manages to bluff, with some play acting and good rolling, that Belli has passed out from going on a pub crawl.

Buggy (as I will refer to the familiar, until Jes gives them a name) flies around and Belli sees markings in a language she doesn’t know, on the book. As well as Potencia’s symbol. 

As a person goes inside, Luctan whispers to Belli, who snaps back out of things, to cast sleep on as many people as possible.

And the session ends here (And out of character knowledge, we learn that there are guards outside the establishment).

Previous Episode / Next Episode

[cromulentbookreview]

What We Do in the New Orleans Shadows

♪ Long before the Superdome / Where the saints of football play / Lived a city that the damned call home / Hear their hellish roundelay / New Orleans! Home of pirates, drunks and whores / New Orleans! Tacky, overpriced souvenir stores / / If you want to go to hell, you should take a trip / To the Sodom and Gomorrah on the Mississip / New Orleans / Stinking, rotten, vomiting vile... New Orleans! / Putrid, brackish, maggoty, foul / New Orleans! ♪ 

And by that, I mean: The Beautiful by Renée Ahdieh!

My sincerest apologies to the city of New Orleans, which I hear is quite lovely. I’d like to go there someday, but only when I can be assured that I, as a female, am considered a human being with rights in the State of Louisiana. Anyway, whenever I think of New Orleans, all I can hear in my head is the song from A Streetcar Named Marge. And then I think about beignets. Mmm. And how I never learned French, instead I spent all my time learning German, which is useless, unless you’re hoping to eavesdrop on German tourists (a note to German tourists: Rede keinen Scheiß, es gibt Amerikaner die dich verstehen können. Ihr kränkte uns...)

Anyway, on to The Beautiful. 

New Orleans! 1872! The crinoline is out and bustles are in! Corsets continue to be the worst! The Gilded Age is just getting started (even though the book won’t be published for another year) and Belle Époque is big in France! Imperialism is everything! Ulysses S. Grant is drinking whiskey under his desk! Meanwhile,  seventeen-year-old Celine Rousseau has fled her life as a dressmaker at one of the finest ateliers in Paris to join a convent in New Orleans. As you do when shit happens. Luckily, Celine made a friend on the boat ride over - Pippa, another girl fleeing shitty circumstances in favor of life in a convent. Once in New Orleans, both girls are enchanted by the city, and I absolutely have to hand it to Renée Ahdieh for knowing how to capture a setting. The way she describes it, you can practically smell the city of New Orleans. Especially the food. Dear God, the food. Mmm. 

I missed ALA Annual last year when it was held in New Orleans (and by “missed” I mean “couldn’t afford to go”) and just reading this book made me kick myself for not going. 

Back to Celine, though. The whole point of going to live at the Ursuline Convent of New Orleans is for her to lay low and find herself a good husband so she can escape the aforementioned shit that went down in Paris. Pippa has the same goal, though she is way more focused on the “finding a good husband” thing than Celine is. One day, while selling bric-a-brac to raise money for the convent, a strange woman named Odette compliments Celine on her sewing skills. Once she learns that Celine is a dressmaker, Odette immediately commissions Celine to make her a dress for a masquerade ball. Because, of course, it’s Mardi Gras. In fictionland, it’s never not Mardi Gras in New Orleans.

Anyway, Odette is high up in some shady New Orleanian society called La Cour des Lions which seems to be full of hyper-beautiful people with all sorts of special skills. La Cour des Lions is led by the mysterious and largely absent Comte de Saint Germain, and is rumored to be embedded pretty deep in local politics and business. While on her way to fit Odette for her dress, Celine, accompanied by Pippa, encounters the comte’s nephew and heir, the absolutely gorgeous Sebastian St. Germain, as he mercilessly beats an unarmed man in an alleyway for reasons that are never made clear. (Seriously, we never do find out for sure why he was beating up some dude in an alley, at least, not in the ARC text). 

Also, I like to imagine that Bastian looks like Taika Waititi.

Also I’d like to imagine he has Taika Waititi’s accent. 

When Celine encounters Bastian again at Odette’s club, they quickly go from being complete strangers to head over heels in love. Because teenagers. But that’s all interrupted when Pippa stumbles upon the body of a girl drained of all her blood. Suddenly the police are involved, led by rival love interest, Michael Grimaldi, who happens to be a former childhood friend of Bastien, and thus, the future love triangle is established.

Also, if you haven’t already guessed by now (I mean, the presence of the Comte de St Germain is a pretty big hint) La Cour des Lions are vampires. Because somehow, even though New Orleans averages a total of 216 sunny days per year, vampires live there.

Maybe Laszlo is onto something, there.

Still, vampires live there, sticking to the indoors and shadows (or managing to daywalk like Colin Robinson or something. Not sure as the book does specify that sunlight does kill these vampires...).  La Cour des Lions are in a centuries long feud with something called the Brotherhood, who are....I’ll let you guess.

Did you guess?

Oh, come on.

You know. 

I’ll give you a hint.

Yes, because warewolves and vampires go together like...warewolves and vampires, honestly why not.

So we’ve got all this going down with Celine smack dab in the middle. Now there’s a serial killer on the loose and they seem to be fascinated with Celine in particular...

So! The Beautiful. It’s a return to the YA vampire genre, so...yay? I dunno, vampires just aren’t my thing. Twilight was huge when I was in high school and college and I tried reading it, but...euch. No. Honestly, outside of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the O.G. Dracula, and What We Do in the Shadows, vampire stories just don’t do anything for me. I never bought into the idea of exchanging a mortal life with sunshine and never committing murder for one in which you can never go out during the day and have to murder people for food. Plus, immortality sounds like it really sucks. Who wants to outlive their whole family? Their friends? Literally everybody you’ve ever known? Immortality means having to watch all of your pets die, over and over again, forever. Yeah, no thanks. Not to mention the fact that, after a few decades without aging, people will start to notice. “Hey, it’s been thirty years, why do you still look like you’re 18 do you have a disease or something?” 

Yeah, I’d rather have my limited time and then be reincarnated. I like that idea way better than being ageless and alive forever and ever. Didn’t any of you read Tuck Everlasting? Winnie made the right choice, you guys.

So while the setting and the writing for The Beautiful are fantastic, as soon as the story brought vampires in, my brain just switched into “eeeehhh” mode. I also have a hard time with romances where the two love interests go from “hey person I just met” to “I love you and will die for you” very quickly. Again, not really my thing. Most of the problems I had with this book just stemmed from my own biases. YA Vampire romances just aren’t my thing. What We Do in the Shadows (movie and TV series!) is more my thing. 

HOWEVER.

Just because something is not my thing, doesn’t mean it’s not your thing. If YA paranormal romances featuring vampires and warewolves running around late 19th century New Orleans sounds like your jam, then in all likelihood, you will really love The Beautiful and I recommend you go and get it when it comes out. Remember: I’m just an idiot with a tumblr account, just because I’m meh on a certain book doesn’t mean it won’t be your new favorite thing ever. I’ll admit, if Renée Ahdieh wrote a New Orleans travel guide, I’d read it in a heartbeat because holy shit she knows how to transport you to a time and place. 

Have at it, YA Paranormal Vampire Romance fans. I’ll be over here, watching What We do in the Shadows. 

RECOMMENDED FOR: Anyone fond of YA Paranormal Vampire Romances (see above), fans of historical fiction, anyone looking for something cool set in New Orleans

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: Anybody not fond of YA Paranormal Vampire Romances.

RELEASE DATE: October 8, 2019

RATING: 3/5

VAMPIRE RATING:

[sweetdollfromhell]

Chilling Tales of Riverdale

Chapter 3 of a old fanfic but stil alive that is a mix of Riverdale, CAOS and Archie horror. Located in season 2 and will have differences with the canon for both shows. I hope you like it.

**************************************************************************************

Sabrina joyfully led Jughead and Betty through the forest with a familiarity that showed her knowledge of the area.  From time to time, Jughead's eye clung to one of his famous fetishes or an inscription carved in a tree but they did not seem to be placed in a sufficiently coherent way to serve as an indication. The cat trotted near them without the slightest fear.

-Your cat, did you find it here or did you already have it? Betty asked as she looked at the animal.

-Oh, Salem? I've had it since I was a little girl. He's... my best friend," said the girl.

-Is he that old? Asked surprise Betty. -It doesn't look like you're seeing it.

The cat slowed down to walk at the same speed as Betty and began to purr.

-He buried us all, believe me.

Suddenly, she stopped and turned towards the other two:

-Dear guests, mi casa! Proudly presenting Sabrina.  

In front of them stood a family tent. Close to it, a kind of clothesline, a space for a campfire and a cooler half buried in the ground. If we forget the terrifying grey grays, we would have thought that a family or a group of friends were doing a normal wilderness camping.  

-Come on, we'll be more comfortable inside. I mean, it smells a bit like it's closing because I have to let the tent close with the temperature going down but it's clean and pleasant otherwise! The girl continued as she unzipped the tent.

-You live in the woods and you just helped us. I think we can handle it," says Jughead.

He had lived in a drive-in for weeks before he found himself squatting in school, he wasn't going to be so picky for that little.

The tent was indeed clean if not a little cluttered. A sleeping bag and some blankets were lying in a corner. Several bags were resting, some leaving objects that had escaped from them. In another, a kind of tablecloth had been installed with several objects on top: books, a small cauldron, several small knives, jars and dried plants. This last element caught Betty's eye. What was it for him? If it was done in Jughead's eyes, he also had questions.

Meanwhile, in the meantime. Sabrina pulled out some clothes and put them together in a semblance of pillows and opened the sleeping bag to spread it along.

-You should be comfortable like this. So, you suspect that my reserves are limited but I can offer you water, tea and a few cans of soft drink.  For something more consistent, I have dry meat, preserves, some wild vegetables, apples, walnut bars, rice, soup, dehydrated stuff and good chip packages, chocolates and candies taken from vending machines.

-Uh... the tea sounds good, says Betty.

-For the food that suits you, Jughead continued despite Betty's look.

-Okay, I'll be back," Sabrina said enthusiastically before going outside.

Betty turned to Jughead.

-We can't leave her here! We have to take him to Riverdale!

-Betty, I think she's here by choice. I agree that it's not ideal, but she probably has her reasons. You're not going to convince her to follow you easily. And maybe it's for the best. She's hiding something...," said Jughead, continuing to observe the objects in the background. - Her story about her decorations is shady and she was too comfortable with her attack. It's not his first time.

-I know, but I think it may not be motivated by bad intentions. You and Polly were also homeless. And neither of you trusted anyone to ask for help for a reason. All I see is a girl our age living in the woods when the temperature keeps dropping, a killer is free and desperate enough to stay there anyway. In addition, she has helped us by putting her life on the line and she shares her resources, which are probably few in number.

Before Jughead could reply, the cat entered the tent closely followed by his mistress. She placed a metal plate between them before placing a teapot on it and holding cups out to them.

-Fortunately, there are only two of you, otherwise I would have run out of cups.

-You were quick," said surprised Jughead.

-Well, when you're stuck in the woods, you learn to make a fast and big fire without hurting yourself. I also have a great hot plate," Sabrina says proudly.

She deposited a plate filled with several apples, chips, bars, sweets and carrots.

-Thank you, that's very kind of you," Betty continued.

-Oh, it's nothing. I am very happy to have company other than Salem's.

The cat, as if to show his anger at his mistress' commentary, climbed onto Betty's lap and lay there.

-You're not allergic, are you?  

-No, I even had a cat when I was younger, Betty said as she stroked the animal, which immediately began to purr.

-Better yet, he's very social!

 -Are these wild carrots? Asked Jughead.

-Yes, not hemlock, I reassure you," said amused Sabrina. -These two plants are very similar, it's true, but a few key differences can save you from ending up like Socrates or the idiot from On the Road. One, there is a beautiful crown of leaves under the flowers like thorns in wild carrots. Two, its flowers are white or pink pale except in its center or grows a single red flower sometimes almost black. And finally, three, the smell is very different. The hemlock one can't even pass for a carrot from far away.

She laughs when she sees the surprised looks of the other two.

-I like the woods and it's not my first-time camping in the wild. I knew what I was doing when I moved here," she continued, taking one of the carrots to prove her point.

-Have you been a jeannette? Asked Betty.

-Oh, God, no. My family is just... very natural. I come from a long line of midwives, apothecaries, healers and snake oil sellers. This is no longer necessary nowadays, but old knowledge can sometimes be useful. We know how to feed, heal and protect ourselves. Nature is full of gifts for anyone who knows how to see them. Hence my material there, she continued, pointing to the tablecloth and its contents.

-My guides, knives and other instruments to prepare my food, remedies and traps. I have to be self-sufficient if you want to know.

- Oh, is that why? Asked Betty.

-Uh... yeah. What do you think it was?

-Just curious, cut them off, Jughead. -Where do the chocolate bars come from?

-Oh, that, promise me you won't be angry. There's some kind of camping grounds a few miles from here. It's empty and the lock leaves something to be desired. The electricity is out but the water is not. I do my laundry and take a shower there.

-But it must be freezing! Says Betty.

-It's not so bad and I told you, I'm pretty much cold resistant. I usually warm up afterwards with a fire in the appropriate locations. But I need to save my parts for the washer and dryer, but there was this vending machine who catch my eyes . I may or may not have hit it until it gives me its content. But the glass is intact!

-So, you too have discovered the weaknesses that made them drop their loot," said Jughead amused.

-Do I have to guess that you know them too? Sabrina asked, reassured.

-I may have some experience in this," said the young man.

Betty was surprised that Jughead seemed willing to let such information slip into a similar situation. Happy... she believed.

-Besides, if you ever want to use your phone, I'll take you to camp. I think he has a connection because it was written on one of the signs.

-Good idea, I look forward to seeing what you say to your mother, Bet.

-The truth. Just tell him I was in a car rather than a motorcycle, don't talk about the Ghoulies and just say we couldn't find a network," says Betty.

-Ghoulies? What is it? What is it? Sabrina asked.

-The gang members, Betty explained. -The boys who were chasing us were part of it.

-Are you serious? Ghoulies is their gang name? It sounds like the name of a brand a cheap of Halloween costumes for kids! mocked Sabrina. -I mean, I'm sure they're dangerous, but they could have forced themselves for the name! Why, are they after you?

-Why do you live in the woods? Jughead replied.

-Good repartee, conciliated Sabrina.

Betty decided to come back to the charge.  

-I don't know if you know, but there's a serial killer on the loose.

-Maybe I heard it between branches without any pun intended, Sabrina confirmed. -But the details are unclear: what is his type and what does his hunting table look like?

She could have asked them if they wanted more tea than her tone would not have seemed more disturbed by the question.

-He... he calls himself the Black Hood, Betty began.  -He wounded three people and killed one. He claims he's getting rid of sinners.

Betty kept the calls to herself.

-I sees. A maniac with a twisted and personal sense of morality, the oldest scourge in the world. But his average is not very high, unless the survivors were particularly gifted and lucky people. Or maybe only some are important, and the rest is a diversion, Sabrina continued to think aloud. -All in all, it's nice to know. I will be careful," she smiled.

-There's a serial killer on the loose and you're going to be careful? Betty asked, repeating her words as if to convince herself of what she was hearing.

-What are my other options?

-Coming to town, Betty replied. -You'll be safer.

Sabrina looks at her like she's crazy before answering:

-No. I'll be screwed if I go into town! You might as well draw a giant target on my back!  

-I...

-Your serial killer probably hangs out more in town than in the middle of the woods! All that's going to happen is that people are going to ask questions and it's going to come back to me!

-You don't have to...

-A what? I have some money, but there's no one who'll rent to a minor! I don't have a phone and if I have to find a job, who will want to hire me without references? I'm going to be noticed and then they're going to send me back...

She could not even finish her sentence; the terror being displayed on her features.

-I can't go back, I can't!

The cat had risen from Betty's knees to climb on Sabrina's knees and Sabrina squeezed the animal, which rather than trying to free itself, allowed itself to do so without resistance. Betty looked horrified at the girl. She didn't want to cause such a panic.

-I'm sorry, calm down! Look, I'm sure we can find something...

-Would your parents be comfortable letting a girl and her cat you've known for less than an hour sleep on their couch? Mockingly asked for this one. -I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't have any other options. And between having to go in there or taking the 0.01% chance that a serial killer will attack me, I take the killer without hesitation and with full knowledge of the facts.

-Is it that bad? Asked Betty.

Sabrina nodded, her face haunted.

Betty watched Sabrina disconcerted, not knowing what to say. Jughead, for his part, fights what his heart and head told him. And for a rare time, his mind was not the winner.

-I live alone," he said. -I'm supposed to live with a host family, but I managed to move back to my father's caravan. It's small but there's heating, hot water and even internet. You can sleep in the room and I'll take the couch.

-Are you serious? Asked the two girls in heart.

-Yes," said Jughead, already regretting. -I'll get you a padlock for the room, but I reserve the right to kick you out if you stick carrion to the walls.

Sabrina looked with an expression of shock that turned into joy.

-Thank you! Thank you so much. And don't worry, I intend to pay back this kindness. I can give you a small rent with whoever I have left and pay the rest in the kitchen, cleaning, laundry, home remedy for hangovers, make your choice!

-Just try to respect my privacy and keep the place clean! Says Jughead wondering how quickly he would regret his words.

-Promise! But I insist on participating in one way or another! Can Salem come?

-Can you have him do his business outside like a dog?

Sabrina nodded.

-He is welcome.

-And if it's ever too hard, I'm sure I can probably convince my mother to let me take a cat. Especially a nice one like that, Betty said as she stroked the animal.

-Oh don't let him fool you, he can be a little brat when he wants, Sabrina mocked. -I'll give you back your kindness too, Betty," she says so seriously this time.

-You don't need to do that, Betty assured me.

-But of course, it is. Goodness must be rewarded in a world like ours, so let us encourage it!

-Speaking of which, I may have another condition," says Jughead.

-Make me an offer," said Sabrina.

Betty suddenly had a thrill. Her expression had changed, the more a panicky kid in her place, she felt like she was seeing something else that was totally different. Cold and in control.

-You're running away from what? I don't want details, just to know if I should expect the police to knock on my door," says Jughead.

Sabrina observed him for a long time without speaking before finally speaking.

-I have serious family problems. And if you're afraid that I'll attract unwanted people, know that I'm waiting for a sign from another branch of my family tree. I'll go with her if everything goes well or I'll manage otherwise. If you want more, then you'll have to open up for me. An equivalent exchange.

The choice of words troubled Betty and she knew that her boyfriend would pull a tooth out alive before delivering personal information to a stranger. Well done.

-All right. I don't know if there's room for everything," said Jughead looking at the contents of the tent.

-I can bury some of it and come back for it later.

-Or we could ask Veronica or Archie if they could put them in their garages, Betty continued.

-I would like to thank them if that is the case. You too, Betty.

-So, I think the issue is settled. Do you think you can pack a bag right now and be ready to go tonight? If it works for you too, Jug, of course!

-It's all right," said Jughead.

-I don't know, I'd like to leave nothing to be abandoned. I have traps and other things that it would be a bad idea to leave it like that," Sabrina continued uncomfortably.

-Take us to the camp so we can call and see if you can do it, otherwise we'll come back tomorrow to get the rest, Betty suggested.

Sabrina nodded and pointed in one direction:

-Walk this way, the network should eventually appear. No need to go to the camp for that. I'm starting to tidy up my things. I can give you a compass or Salem if you're afraid of getting lost.

- I don't think the cat is an animal that can guide people, at best they eat the bodies of lost people," said Jughead.

-Oh, he's brilliant and he listens to me occasionally," Sabrina reassured Sabrina. -Show them Salem how great you are.

Salem advanced towards them and to Jughead's surprise began to walk in front of them but at a slow pace as if they were to follow him.

-He's really trained," Jughead continued surprised. -Did you know it was possible?

-No, I've always been told that cats understand but don't listen. Note, it may be a particular breed. I don't know of any cat that would be more than ten years old and still look like that either.

Betty looked at her phone and smiled:

-I have a signal! I'll be able to call Archie and my mother after!

-Perfect. Bet, would you mind if I went all the way to see this camp she's talking about? continued the young man.

-Uh... no, but why?

-I'd just like to know why she didn't move there. A summer camp seems a better alternative than in the middle of the forest.

-Okay, I'll follow you," Betty said, dialing the number and then taking her hand. 

The camp looked like it had just come out of a horror movie and Jughead could have considered this a credible reason to abandon it if Sabrina had not surrounded his own decoration camp that would have been in their place in American Horror Story. Another detail was the heavy padlock that blocked the main entrance. She said she had forced him but not that she had replaced him afterwards. It was a lot of work for a little bit. Unless she climbed the fence? As feasible but ironed with equipment? Especially since the content could be damaged if she simply throws it over the fence, assuming she has the strength to do so.

In the background, he could hear Betty's conversation. Archie was not difficult to convince to come and get them and their new acquaintance. The conversation with her mother was of a completely different nature. Jughead could hear the sound of the Coopers' tone rising to a hysterical level. It seems he would probably have to go up to Betty's window if he wanted to see her again this year.  

-Are you all right? He asked, although he suspected the answer.

-It's all right," said Betty, trying to calm down.  -Did you find anything?

-Only more questions.

-If you've changed your mind....

-No, it's okay. It's okay. I'm not going to pretend that I'm excited about having a roommate, but that's the best solution right now.

-I wonder what she's running from," says Betty. - I don't think she was exaggerating. She seems really scared.

-Neither do I. I doubt a little more about the part about a family member coming to pick her up. Maybe she just said that, so I could leave her alone.

(Or maybe she hopes he'll come and get her) thought Jughead, remembering his own mother. If that were true, he was going to wish her that it would work.

-Going back to see if she was finished, he decided, no longer wanting to think about Gladys Jones.

 When they returned, Sabrina had unpacked the tent and gathered her possessions into three bags. She had also changed, now wearing jeans, army boots, a pink sweater but had kept her hoodie.  

-I buried part of it in a camouflaged hatch. I'll bring the rest with me unless it's too big. In that case, maybe I can leave one here.

-Do you have a cage for the cat? Asked Betty.

-No need. It may be on my lap or I would put it in a bag with an opening for air, it is used to it, Sabrina proudly said.

-Is it a cat or a stuffed animal? Asked Jughead as he looked at the cat.

-Sometimes I wonder, recognized Sabrina as the cat was coming back to her.

-Do you want us to help? Asked Betty.

-I... yeah, if you don't mind.

Sabrina handed Betty her broom and one of her bags to Jughead, keeping the backpack and a large wheeled suitcase.

- Which road? Sabrina asked.

-669, Betty replied.

Without hesitation Sabrina walked in the direction of it as the two followed.

 Once out of the woods, Jughead took his bike and dragged it towards them, hoping he could take it back to town. Fortunately, their wait was not too long just fifteen minutes before Archie's old car appeared.  

-Hello Bet, Jug," Archie began.

- Hey Archie, thanks again for helping us out!  Says Betty happy to see a familiar face.

-Hey, Arch. You think I can tie it up after your car? Asked Jughead as he showed his bike.

-I suppose, said Archie hesitant.

He didn't like any sign of the Serpent with his friend, even as simple as his means of transport. He went out despite the help to load the bike.

-Hello, you must be Sabrina? Says Archie smiling at the newcomer.

Sabrina nodded and approached Archie cautiously.

-Hello, who are you?

-Archie Andrew, to serve you, replied the amused one, reaching out to him.

Sabrina took it and squeezed it.

-Nice to meet you, Archie.

-And you? Archie asked.

-Me what?

-Your last name?

- Betty and Jugheand didn't give me their last names, Sabrina replied

-It's Cooper for me and Jones for Jughead, says Betty.

She seemed hesitant before saying:

-Spellman. My name is Sabrina Spellman.

-Like the singer? Archie asked.

-I don't think we're related but we write it the same ways. And this is Salem," continued the white hair girl, holding the cat.

-Oh yes, your cat! You don't have a cage, Archie remarked.

-He will be quiet, I swear, Sabrina promised.

-His cat is obedient enough, Betty said to reassure him.

-And he will lie on the floor at the first sign of a siren, Sabrina promised. -He's used to it.

-In this case, Archie gave in.

Archie opened the trunk but rather than handing it over, Sabrina placed it herself, taking the sports bag from Jughead's hands and placing it too.  She went to take the broom from Betty's hands when she asked her the question:

-Are you sure it will fits?

-But of course, you just have to place it in the right angle, smiled Sabrina.

To Betty's surprise, she actually managed to get her in without any difficulty.

-I sits in which seat? She asked.

-The boys could sit in the front and we both in the back. Is that okay with you?

Sabrina nodded and sat down with the animal lying on her lap next to her bag, which she put between Betty and her.

 -So, how long were you in the woods? Asked Betty.

-Maybe a two weeks. I didn't really count, Sabrina admitted.  

-You know there's... Archie started.

-A serial killer? Yes. Betty and Jughead told me. He's not as scary as the werewolf on the highways yet, but still.

-From what? Asked Jughead.

-The werewolf on the highways, I know, the name sucks, but at least he has an excuse for not choosing him. There was a serial killer in the sixties in the area. He picks up women on the highway always in the same order near the highways of cities in the region, including Riverdale. Everything was good, from the kid to the old lady, from the pastor's wife to the prostitute. Raped, tortured and eventually killed. They never caught him, but the consensus is that he was probably a truck driver. And he must be dead because guys like him don't stop like that. With any luck, he suffered.

-I've never heard that story," says Jughead surprised.

-Oh, despite his violence, he didn't make too many waves at the time. People believed in isolated incidents and cities communicated with each other far too late. But if you google it, you should find something. People think he had at least 29 victims, although some think he has more than 47, but even then, it's hard to be sure. Strangely enough, the Riverdale reaper is more celebrated than him when he only killed one family.

-Only?" asked Jughead, raising an eyebrow.

Sabrina laughed nervously.

-I'm sorry to be so morbid. Let's talk about lighter stuff. Do you like pastries? I could do you a little something to thank you! What you want: cupcake, muffin, French toast, pie...

-My friend Veronica loves to cook," says Betty. -Personally, I only know the basics.

- I'm sure you have other equally useful talents," says Sabrina.

-Betty is an excellent mechanic," says Jughead.

-Wow, that's impressive! Sabrina continued. - I can't do it without help.

-Not as much as it looks! And I think that impressive question, you're pretty much yourself. Surviving alone in the woods must have been hard. Not to mention the Ghoulies.

-This is my natural environment. I was pretty good, I was just feeling a little lonely. And the Ghoulies didn't have a chance on my field.  I wouldn't be so confident in the city.

-But you're not alone in town, Betty continued.

-I suppose... Sabrina said hesitantly.

Betty tried to make her keep talking.

- Do you work out?

-Kind of like everyone else at school. My best friend was a cheerleader, so I tried to please her, but it wasn't for me. She ended up dropping out anyway for more social activities as well. I like the arts, for example! I have done singing, dancing, piano and theatre. I also started a social club with her.

-Archie is a musician and a singer too, says Betty.

-Oh, yeah? Says Sabrina suddenly interested. ¸

-He even wrote songs," said Jughead.

-I would like to have a career in music, recognized Archie.

-That's cool! Are you also musicians?

-No, I prefer to write and the same for Betty," Jughead continued.

-Veronica sings for example, Betty continued.  

-Is she your best friend? Sabrina asked with candor.

-Yes, but on a par with Kevin.

Betty's heart will then be remembering their fight. She understood his anger, but she never wanted him hurt. Kevin could have a boyfriend or twelve that he changed every week, she didn't care, all she wanted was for him to be safe.

-Veronica tried to calm him down, clumsily tried Archie

Betty forced herself to smile and nodded.

-He needs time, I understand.  Besides, I probably won't be able to see many people with my mother.  

-Is she angry? Sabrina asked for an anxious expression on her face.

-Yes, but it's all right, don't worry. In fact, we have arrived!

Jughead got out of the car with Archie taking Sabrina's luggage out of the trunk.

-Are you going to be all right to carry everything? Archie asked.

-Of course. You, go bring Betty back before her mother sends the Sheriff after us.

-Good point.

The two friends greeted each other, and Betty took her head out of the window to share a kiss with Jughead. The car then left the mobile home park. Jughead picked up the sports bag and swept it up while Sabrina put her backpack back and dragged her suitcase. The cat followed them as he trotted.

-Come on, I'll show you which one.

-Thank you again. I know you don't really want to get in my way, but you do it out of generosity. I'm not going to make you regret it.

-If you don't want to make me regret it, stop talking about it.

-Okidoki.

As they advanced towards the caravan, Jughead recognized several silhouettes waiting for him in front of the entrance. Sabrina, seeing her expression changing, asked a question:

-Are you going to introduce me to them or should I get my broom back?  

[gdelgiproducer]

DOTV AU: An Exercise in Alternate History (Part V)

Parts I, II, III, and IV offer more detailed context. (To briefly sum up why these posts are happening: alt history – as in sci fi, not “alternative facts” – buff, one day got the idea that DOTV could have turned out hella different if Jim Steinman looked for a star lead in other places, decided to reason out how that might work.) This is still getting a good response, so I’m gonna keep the train rolling.

Parts of the AU timeline established so far: instead of stopping at recording two songs from Whistle Down the Wind on a greatest hits compilation, Meat Loaf wound up taking more of an interest in Steinman’s new theater work than he did in our timeline, and through a series of circumstances found himself volunteering to play Krolock in the impending DOTV when Jim poured out his woes to him about needing to find some sort of star to attract investors. At a loss for any better ideas, Jim accepted Meat’s impulsive proposal, but not without resistance from his manager, David Sonenberg, who proposed Michael Crawford as an alternate candidate. Through quick thinking on Meat’s part, and inspiration on Jim’s, Crawford left the room accepting an entirely different role than he walked in hoping to get, leaving Krolock still open for Meat. There was a brief speed bump, when Meat disliked Jim’s English script for the show, but after meeting with the original German author Michael Kunze and convincing Jim to compromise, things were on the road to being back on track... at least until 9/11 occurred. Following a brief hiatus, everyone involved is meeting to re-assess their options.

Continuing the alternate DOTV timeline:

February 2002: After completing the Night of the Proms tour and taking a holiday break, Meat Loaf requests a meeting with co-star Michael Crawford, composer Jim Steinman, co-author Michael Kunze, and the other creatives on DOTV to assess where things are at. Obviously, people have other commitments, so the creative team may not shape up exactly the same as initially planned, but at least they’ll see who’s still coming along for the ride and get a bead on where the show is at. A dinner is planned at Café Carlyle, a cabaret space housed within the hotel of the same name, on the Upper East Side of NYC.

The dinner begins as any dinner involving Jim begins: with Steinman’s ordering disorder on display, and his manager, David Sonenberg, smiting his own forehead so hard it turns purple. Imagine the headwaiter’s surprise when he takes everyone’s order and hears Jim say, “For starters, we’ll have the entire left half, plus two each of the chicken hash, Dover sole, and seafood salad.” “Excuse me, sir... the entire left half of the menu?” “That’s correct. And for the second course, I’ll have another order of the roasted halibut and the filet mignon. What looks good to you guys?” Meat is not at all surprised; with Jim, you get everything and then everything else. “And for dessert, sir?” says the headwaiter, anticipating the massive tip. “Well, why don’t you bring us some New York cheesecake. And, heck, how about an order of the chocolate opera cake? And profiteroles. For everyone to share.” Meat can only laugh at the incredulous expressions of everyone who doesn’t already know Jim. He  orders the table a round of fifty dollar Côtes du Rhône. This’ll be a long one. 

First order of business: is the new script ready? “Not quite,” says Jim without even missing a bite. Meat rolls his eyes; typical Jim. His method is seduction. Jim has ideas for new stuff; he doesn’t always have the results to back them up. If he can talk you into it, he can do it -- eventually. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s a cut and paste job anyway. I do have a synopsis so everyone can see what the show will be like. Rest assured, everything’s back the way you want it.” Steinman gestures to Sonenberg, who passes pages around the table.

We now pause to read said synopsis:

ACT ONE

Some time in the late 19th century, Professor Abronsius, a rather intensely wacky vampire killer, stands trial before the Governors of the University of Heidelberg. He has made a mockery of the school’s good name with his “ridiculous writings and insane theories,” insisting that he can prove vampires (and other supernatural creatures) actually do exist. For this “crime against science,” he is sent packing by his colleagues. His assistant Alfred, handsome if sweetly dim, with an ardent and Byronic underbelly, resolutely stands by his mentor and guide. Now gifted with -- however unwelcome -- free time, they set off on an excursion, hoping to prove the professor’s theory correct, and become lost in a blinding snowstorm (Overture).

We are now in a dark forest, three nights before Halloween, near a remote Transylvanian village somewhere in the Carpathians. Sarah, the beautiful teenage daughter of the local innkeeper, is out picking mushrooms with her easily frightened friends when they come upon an abandoned graveyard in a clearing. To reassure them all is well, she says a prayer (Angels Arise). Suddenly, a pack of very cool young vampires appears out of the mist, dancing with rapturous abandon (God Has Left the Building). Sarah is entranced as a coffin rises from the ground containing the mesmerizing and extremely cool Count Von Krolock, an immortal suitor whose call she finds strangely irresistible. The Count introduces himself to Sarah in a most charming way, sings to her seductively telling her of another world (Original Sin), and promises to return for her at the total eclipse of the moon. The lure of the night is strong, as is the promised deliverance from the mundane world she knows.

Back in the village, at the inn, we meet Sarah’s father, Chagal, his long suffering wife, Rebecca, and his beautiful voluptuous chambermaid, Magda, whom he spends most of his free time lusting after, much to Rebecca's disdain. Together with the local villagers, they demonstrate that nothing perks up men like wine, women and song -- and Garlic. Into the midst of the hustle and bustle burst two strangers, the first in twenty years: Abronsius and Alfred, who have nearly frozen to death in the nearby woods. Although the villagers deny any knowledge of vampires in the proximity, the professor cannot be fooled and becomes increasingly suspicious.

After exploring the rooms upstairs in which they are staying, Alfred meets Sarah. He is instantly smitten by her and vice versa, but having noticed the attraction between them, Chagal, very protective of his child, literally boards-up the door separating them (Don’t Leave Daddy). Since the budding passion of the young is highly flammable his solution proves to be as effective as spit on a forest fire. Unable to sleep, Alfred and Sarah sing of their newly awakened desire for each other (There’s Never Been a Night Like This), but they are not alone in their yearning: Chagal sneaks away from Rebecca -- who swiftly knocks Abronsius on the noggin in a case of mistaken identity -- to pay an unwelcome visit to Magda, and the Count returns to invite Sarah to a grand ball at his castle, offering her a chance to make her wildest dreams a reality, an opportunity to quench her thirst for more (The Invitation). How can any small-time girl resist?

The next day, the idyll of a winter mid-afternoon (Everything’s Fair) is broken when Abronsius witnesses a small business exchange between Chagal and Koukol, a hideous hunchback who lives somewhere in the woods. He inquires about the odd fellow, but Chagal refuses to discuss the matter. This does not deter the professor (Logic). For every question there is an answer and no truth that defies understanding -- or so he believes.

But no law rules the human heart and desire is quite an immeasurable emotion. Alfred also offers Sarah a way out: he begs her to run off and make a new start with him (Braver Than We Are). Too little, too late. Unbeknownst to Alfred, Krolock has sent a gift for Sarah -- a pair of red boots and a vision. Alfred leaves Sarah alone outside for a moment and she puts on the boots; she has a fantastic reverie about dancing with vampires (Red Boots Ballet) and can no longer control herself, try though she might (Say a Prayer). Torn between Alfred and the Count, Sarah runs off to Krolock’s castle, pursued by Chagal, who is in turn pursued by Rebecca and Magda who are concerned for his safety, who are in turn followed by Alfred and Abronsius, reasoning that they will be shown the way to the Count’s lair.

At the giant castle in the woods, they are greeted by watchful eyes in the darkness (Something to Kill (Our Time)), and by the mysterious Krolock and his flamboyant son, Herbert, who is instantly attracted to Alfred (Bless the Night). In the same breath, Krolock taunts Alfred and invites the two men into his domain (Come With Me) and the two reluctantly accept his invitation.

ACT TWO

In the great hall of the castle, Sarah reconciles what was once just a fantasy with her new reality, seduced by and embracing her inevitable indoctrination to this family (Vampires in Love (Total Eclipse of the Heart)). Sarah is entranced as Krolock makes his way down the staircase toward her. What has long been just a notion inside her is now a man before her. She willingly offers him her throat, although he resists the urge to bite her there and then.

Meanwhile, given a room, Abronsius sleeps soundly while Alfred is tormented by a nightmare (Carpe Noctem) that is a peculiar reflection of reality. In the dream he is a creature of the night. The following morning Alfred bravely swears that above fear and beyond doubt he will stay there in the hope of saving her (For Sarah).

But Abronsius is more concerned with capturing the Count and his son as specimens to prove his theory. Alfred and the professor make their way to the crypt, hoping to locate the two vampires, but instead they encounter the freshly dead Chagal. Before Abronsius can think of something else, Alfred hears what he believes to be Sarah singing and the hapless duo flee the crypt just as Rebecca and Magda arrive. Encountering Chagal's bitten body, Rebecca grieves while Magda gloats (Death Is Such an Odd Thing). In death she finds him to be far more bearable than in life. Chagal wakes-up and bites them both.

Truly, love is in the air. As Chagal cements his eternity with the women he loves in tow, Alfred has a close encounter with Herbert, who has set his sights on him. The smitten Herbert waltzes with an unwilling Alfred singing a song of love and longing (When Love Is Inside You). Herbert’s attempt to draw blood from the young man is thwarted by quick thinking, but to add insult to injury, Alfred then finds Sarah bathing in preparation of that evening’s ball. He begs her to flee with him, but his plea falls on deaf ears -- she is dying to go.

Meanwhile, Abronsius’ search through the castle has taken him to the library, which he enthusiastically discovers is stocked with every book ever written (Books, Books). The Count, who initially pretends admiration for the professor and offers him eternal life, confronts him, taking the opportunity to boast that the the battle for Alfred’s soul is already complete and that he is the victor.

To his horror, Abronsius, joined by Alfred, watches as, in throngs, the vampires crawl from their coffins, cursing the redundancy of their existence and eager to devour (Eternity). At the same moment, stung by Abronsius’ rejection, Count Von Krolock laments the truth of his being (Confession of a Vampire) and makes a bleak prediction: before the turn of the next millennium mankind, overcome by greed, will know only one god -- the god of appetite.

Speaking of appetite, the moment has arrived! The Count and his brethren are eager to proceed (The Ball: Never Be Enough). Sarah is presented while a disguised professor and Alfred wait for an opportunity to rescue her -- a chance that unfortunately comes only after she is willfully and gloriously bitten. In the midst of the climactic vampire dance (The Minuet), they take hold of Sarah and run.

Stopping in the woods to rest, Alfred once more professes his love to Sarah and the two lovers embrace, singing of their born-again freedom (Braver Than We Are (Reprise)). He believes all is well until the second she sinks her teeth into his neck. Once bitten the couple takes off to begin a life that will know no end. Meanwhile, oblivious to what is happening around him, Professor Abronsius revels over the information he has unearthed about the existence of vampires, unaware that their numbers have grown. As the Reign of the Undead begins, everybody somehow manages to find happiness... Transylvania-style (The Dance of the Vampires).

Back to our regularly scheduled program:

Meat is forced to admit Jim’s right. Based solely on this synopsis, it would be a cut-and-paste job, and it does answer all of the objections he had. Moving the Heidelberg scene to the top of the show reorients things just enough so that at least the focus is shared between Alfred and Sarah. On top of that, every song is where it should be, “Is Nothing Sacred” has been cut from Act II (it appeared in both earlier versions as a duet between Alfred and Sarah lamenting the loss of their love, but for once everyone was in agreement that it slowed the show down and there was no way to make it work), and no climactic shape-shifting transformation to be found (Jim has never been one to hide spoilers). As soon as the actual script is put together, this could be a working product.

Crawford is momentarily rattled by the Alfred-and-Abronsius prologue. “Bit like Phantom to start with foreshadowing and then plunge in?” he mutters under his breath. But Meat counters, with a grin: “I think it’s more like the opening of Psycho, wouldn’t ya say, Jim?” Meat, of course, knows what’s coming. Jim has seen Psycho 23 times; he thinks that if you’re learning about film, you don’t have to go beyond Psycho, because you can watch it a thousand times and find something new each time. All he has to do is settle in and let Jim talk Crawford’s ear off: “Psycho begins, if you watch it, with a long shot of Arizona, a satellite view of the whole state of Arizona, or at least the city of Phoenix. Long shot of the whole city. And then, the camera goes into one area. Then one block, and then one building, and then through the window of that building, to Janet Leigh and John Gavin in bed, nude, having sex. You start at an extreme distance, and it keeps getting closer and closer until it ends up where the story begins.”

Crawford is flummoxed. “...but... how is that...” Before he can get another word in edgewise, Jim is off on a stream-of-conscious flight of fancy: “Lost inside a blinding snowstorm, an innocent boy and a man of science... an unspoken certainty -- where something is shattered, something is breaking through... then their suspicions are proven correct... the wilds of Transylvania... the shadow of a dark knight looms large... you set up the hero first, and then right at the beginning, you need the big horror scene, like when the shark attacks the girl in Jaws, and then in the next scene everything is fine and you go on to tell the story.” Twenty minutes of free association from film to film later, his head spinning, Crawford stops Jim: “Jim, I, uh... I think I get it. Sounds grand. Let’s move on, shall we?” Meat, with a grin: “Waiter? More Côtes du Rhône for my English friend here.”

It’s Sonenberg’s turn to speak about the financial picture, and unfortunately, he is pretty much the bearer of bad news: “We’ve got nothing.” “What about your share of the investment?” Jim shoots back. “I raised my share, but that’s all I raised! Andrew Braunsberg threw in his share, too, but ours combined won’t bring you this show! This is gonna cost at least 12 million, it’s not like either of us has a small fortune tucked away! Do you know how much it will cost for that fucking coffin to rocket out the floor? And let’s say we keep the designs from Europe, which -- by the way -- we can’t afford to do even if we get investors, who’s paying for the six-ton graveyard to come down from fifty feet in the air? Shows cost four times as much on Broadway as they do in Europe! And this is before we get into the fact that we had readings and workshops that didn’t come cheap, even though we had other people shouldering the burden with us. When they walked...” “When they walked, I did what you said! You said we needed stars to boost the box office -- we have two of them! You said we needed the show to have more of a balance between horror and comedy -- we’re nearly there! We’ve done readings, we’ve done workshops, there should be a list of interested investors by now! You’re telling me I followed every instruction you gave me and we couldn’t attract producers?!” “Jim, that happens. The odds of failure in any show biz endeavor are astronomical. You know this. I have this conversation with you time and time again.” “So basically you called this meeting to raise our hopes and then tell us it’s a wash, is that it?!”

Meat can’t bear to see Jim like this. He never could. Jim is always within steps of achieving his dream and never quite getting there, and it’s usually due to Sonenberg’s interference. “Guys, guys, before things get too heated and we say stuff we might regret... look at who is at this table. We’ve got a major arena rocker, two Grammy-winning songwriters, we’ve got the biggest box office star in musical theater, we have a music manager with a list of clients as big as my ass. We know promoters, theater owners, rich people with cash to burn, we make more contacts shaking hands at industry parties than we know what to do with. Between all of us, we’ve got to be able to rustle up some investment coin!”

Meat turns to Crawford. “Michael, I know you were up for my part for, like, twenty seconds. Were you bringing any investors to the table for that?” “Now that you mention it, yes, there were a handful.” “Call them. Explain the situation. Tell them we’re looking to cut costs and bring this show in tight, so they can look at our numbers, offer suggestions for a way forward.”

He swivels in his seat to the other Michael at the table. “Mr. Kunze, was there any interest from other American producers before the show started on this path?” “We had this husband-and-wife couple who were major producers book tickets to opening night in Vienna, but they canceled last minute.” “Any chance you remember who they are?” Sonenberg cuts in: “Barry and Fran Weissler, but...” “The Weisslers? As in the Weisslers who did Chicago? The license-to-print-money Weisslers? We need a meeting with them ASAP.”

Meat now focuses on Sonenberg. “Look, Jim is pissed at you right now, and understandably so, but we need all hands on deck. David, is there anybody you can think of that might come to the table?” “Well... I am about to have lunch with Jerry Weintraub about a film project. You win an Oscar, they all come knocking.” “I remember Jerry, he started in talent management and concert promotion. Theater is a good way for him to combine those interests. He may not bite, but bring up the project anyway.”

Jim weakly tosses in, his engines beginning to rev again: “I could talk to Leonard Soloway. He’s never been major on Broadway, mainly a house or company manager, but he’s produced before, and he’s been looking to move back into that sector. He was very interested in this at the reading last April. He called it a gem.” “The worst that he can say is no, and we’re already starting a list to go down, so give him a buzz,” Meat says. 

“As for me, I’m gonna talk to Michael Cohl.” Sonenberg is skeptical: “The concert promoter?” “He’s handled packages as big as this, you know who he’s worked with, it’s practically an encyclopedia of the business. Maybe he wants to move into producing.” “He also wants to put his hand in the till. He’s a chiseler. A bunch of managers complained about him a few years back; he was working this scheme where he told their clients playing this festival in Toronto that there was a sales tax that was coming out of their pay, and a gate charge reflected in the ticket price. Festival’s exempt from that tax and the organization that runs it has no gate charge. He was putting hundreds of thousands in his pocket.” “So,” interrupts Jim, “you’re saying he has money to spend, and he knows how to cut corners and get more.” “Oh sure, Jim, because we want to line up with a whiff of anything illegal on a high risk investment. I’m just saying, if we bring him on, there have to be stringent safeguards. We’ll need to double- and triple-check every transaction that comes through him.” “Well,” says Meat, momentarily unable to check his inner self-control, “he can’t do any worse than the advice I was getting in 1981.” “Oh sure, dig up that dead horse and start beating it again!” Sonenberg fires back.

Before the conversation can get out of control, Meat somehow manages to rein himself in: “Alright, look, let’s not get off the subject at hand here. We thought things were hopeless only moments ago, but now we have a list of... Michael, how many investors were interested again?” “Three.” “Okay, and that plus Cohl, Jerry, Leonard, and the Weisslers -- not to mention Braunsberg and David -- puts us at 10, if everyone signs on. Even if some of them say no, we should still be farther ahead than we were on the producing front. This project is not dead.”

“It might as well be,” Sonenberg grouses. “John Caird’s off attending to other commitments, Ezralow’s doing a Josh Groban TV special, and we need a new set of designs. You tell me where we’re gonna find a whole new creative team.” “David, I don’t have the highest opinion of you, but I know you’re not stupid. You’re not seriously implying that this production only looked into one person for each position, right? Surely we can look around at a few people and get some opinions.” “Besides,” Jim chimes in, “the director problem is already solved. I was co-directing, now all I have to do is call Barry [Keating, Jim’s right-hand man and a Tony-nominated composer in his own right] in to be my assistant and we’ll whip this into shape.”

A deathly silence descends upon the table. Meat is brave enough to be the first to speak: “Actually, I think we need to interview some directors, too.” “Why go to the trouble? I have it under control.” For once, Sonenberg agrees with Meat and says so: “You think you have it under control. Things have been pretty serious in this conversation so far, let’s be real right now: you’ve never directed a musical this big in your life. You and Barry are fine for a workshop, but this is a spectacular with a lot of moving elements.” “I can’t believe I’m hearing this! Half the show in Vienna I had to talk Polanski into doing. Or did it behind his back. A lot! He had a totally different vision.” “Jim, giving notes and making contributions that people agree with is not the same thing as directing.” “I’ve directed music videos!” “You’ve story-boarded music videos.” “What about that one I directed for Bonnie that was nominated for seven Billboard Video Awards?” “Did it win any?!” Meat once again has to halt the argument brewing: “Look, Jim, we need to be serious about this if you want it to work. It can’t hurt to just talk to a few other people. We’re not committing to them.” Steinman is momentarily silenced, but his sour expression betrays he’s still displeased with the present turn of events.

“Now, as for the choreographer...” Meat says. Jim perks up again: “Barry could...” Sonenberg slams his fist on the table: “You shut up or you lose a toe! Go on, Meat.” “Alright, we’re not opening till October, and that means we’re not starting in earnest until August. That’s after the Tony Awards. Let’s see if any real talent emerges this season, and if worse comes to worst, we’ll just hire whoever won.” “That doesn’t solve our problem with the design team, though. Even if we get them signed by June or July, that’s not nearly enough time to design, approve, and execute a whole show.” “Well, we can start talking to people now, and maybe they’ll even give us some clues about a choreographer or director, if there’s someone they’ve worked with who they really liked.” At a loss for any other way to proceed, Sonenberg nods gravely.

At meeting’s end, everyone is in concurrence on the next course of action: actually finish the script, schmooze with potential investors or producers, and put together a new creative team. Preferably not all at the same time, but with the crunch on, they’ll do whatever needs to be done.

Didn’t expect this to be so short or focus on one event, but our heroes have lots of ground to cover. Catch you next time!

[clown-bait]

29 Neibolt St (Monster Roommate AU) CH 13

GORE TIME!!! Guys I’ve been so excited to get to the murdering! Fluff is fun but nothing is more fun than gore fluff. So get ready for lots and lots of blood, destruction, fucking and combinations of all of those!

Chapter 13

Easier Said than Done

“Ok just lure them into the sewer and hopefully he’ll snap out of it when he smells food.”

Leech had been grumbling to herself for a while now trying to haul her eldritch horror clown boyfriend around the dark sewers of the town. He was still in a weird state like he'd been all night.The more she thought about it the more she realized its been weeks since he last fed, which suddenly explains the extreme moodiness. On top of near starvation the deadite incident had really rattled him, he was low on energy from fighting back so hard and his ego was severely bruised. The clown was in almost a catatonic state coming back to reality here and there to mumble something then retreating back to whatever dimension his brain was hiding in. He'd zone out like this on occasion when he was particularly hungry but it was never this bad before.

Leech collapsed against a wall the clown falling on top of her. She was stronger than the average human now but only after a good feed and it had been quite some time for Leech as well. She was worried she would die down here unable to hunt and too weak to fight back should the Kandarian Demons find her. Someone had to come along soon or she’d be in trouble. “Fuck what am I doing here Pen.” she mumbled in defeat gently propping him up against the wall. He must have sensed her fears as he was able to turn and place a giant hand on her leg “…..Rest…..feed…later…” she finally got as a response

“Wow, glad to see you’ve decided to join me. Where do you keep going anyway”

“…S-somewhere…. else….healing..”

“Oh we’re going to be cryptic now great”

“…rest…”

“Pen by the time you're back up and running everyone is going to be fucked and or dead. I know you'll be fine but the rest of us wont be.”

He had already returned to his resting state. It was rare that he needed to do this, only in cases of a bad injury. He'd vanish for a week or two and return hungry ready to kill. Leech didn't have a week.

“Come back to me when I catch something.”

She roamed the street alone still in her dress heels left at the sewer entrance. She had to find someone to lure or Pen would starve. A dive bar caught her attention, drunks were easy to trick maybe shed be able to persuade a few to….help her with her problem.

She roughed up her hair a bit and smeared some of the makeup on her face hoping that she looked like she was in distress enough for someone to believe her act. Show time.

“HELP someone please help!” Leech threw open the door screaming. A group of friends took notice, two guys and a girl, they rushed over to her.

“What the hell happened to you miss? Are you ok?” one of the guys said.

“My friend! She-she’s missing we were walking home and I had to pee but when I came back she was gone!” Leech shouted expecting an oscar for this performance.

“We’ll help you find her! Harry here will call the police” the girl said

“NO!” Leech panicked a bit cops were the last thing she needed “um you cant! I’m-we were high!”she was mentally kicking herself for that.

“How do we know you're not just some crazy druggie then?” Harry asked

“I'm not lying please we have to find her right now!” already making huge mistakes she thought to herself. Penny and Dracula would be making her start over by now if this was practice.

She led them down to the drain pipe the one guy and girl were hanging on each other the whole time and Harry was constantly trying to touch and comfort Leech “oh you'll be getting something buddy just not what you expected.” The vampire thought to herself when she felt the human touch her shoulder for a little longer than she would have liked.

“PENNY?” she called out hoping the clown would hear and come out of his rest.

“is that your friends name?” the girl Maddie asked

“What? Um yes!” another slip up she scolded herself.

“Penny!!” Maddie’s boyfriend Dan called out.

“She must have ran inside the sewer because… of the drugs!” Leech suggested she needed to split them up somehow so she could at least get one back to the clown “we should split up to search for her!”

“haven't you ever seen a horror movie? Thats how people die!” Dan shouted.

“Yeah what if theres some weirdo lurking down there that took her!” Maddie added

“Right! You're right wow what was I thinking” shit  Leech cursed to herself.

She led them deeper into the drain praying that Pennywise would help her out with this shitty situation she got herself in. The vampire had to get one alone she couldn't take on 3 adult humans in this state. “What would Pennywise do” she thought aloud to herself.

“Pennywho? do you mean your friend penny?” asked Maddie

“What?”

“Your friend what would she do?” Leech was internally screaming at herself now.

“Oh um just thinking if I was her where would I go?” the poor vampire wanted to give up at this point.

Fuck what would Pennywise do. She thought again and she realized her answer. Fear duh! She needed to make them afraid so they would scatter and panic like wolf running through the center of a herd of sheep. She screamed loud trying to sound as genuinely as possible (and to wake that lazy ass clown up)

“SOMETHING TOUCHED ME” she shouted grabbing Harry’s arm

“It was probably just a cockroach or sewer rat”  he said

“No I felt it on my back I-I think this place is haunted!” she shrieked

“Why would you think that?” he asked.

“Didnt you know this is where all those missing kids disappeared at!” Maddie spoke up.

“Missing kids?” dan asked.

“Oh shit! I heard of that!” Harry began “this place has the most amount of missing people in all the state!”

“Guys I don't like this maybe we should call the police…” Maddie was growing fearful. One down two to go.

Leech half faked a panicked frenzy running past the group screaming “OH GOD MURDERS????? WE HAVE TO FIND HER!” she had led them deep enough for the humans to easily get lost and hoped that now their fear would cause the group to split up.

Leech turned a hidden corner thinking she had lost them only to run smack into her servant Jim who had been looking for her after the party.

“FUCK! JIMBO” Leech yelled out in surprise.

“Lucy?! Lucy we have to stay together where are you?”Maddie screamed.

Leech covered Jim’s mouth telling him to be quiet “what the fuck are you doing down here” she hissed

“I came looking for you when you guys left after that dance number”

“Look Jimmy I'm hunting right now I cant have you getting in the way.”

“Master you seem to be the one thats being hunted…”

“Shut up Jim-jam”

“Do you um… want me to help?”

“Actually….. there is something you can do for me. Go find Pennywise and try to wake him up. tell him I fucked up bad.”

“Seriously that guy?”

“Jimbo listen to me, if they find out what I am I'm fucked. If I'm fucked you're fucked, you’re apart of this shit now the minute you signed up for this.”

“Master, you didn't really give me much of a choice…”

“Good boy Jimmy go get Penny for me.” she cut him off.

Leech took a deep breath and dug her claws into her skin shrieking through out the sewer. She had to make this next part look convincing. the vampire removed her jacket revealing all her bruises and bite marks Penny loved to leave on her and finally she sighed in sadness as she tore her dress leaving deep gashes in her own skin.

“HELP ME” she screamed laughing to herself at how convincing she sounded wincing in pain as she made another mark on herself. Shit I think I over did the monster attack a bit she mused holding up her scarlet covered arm admiring the way the blood looked in the sewer lamps.

“LUCY? ITS ME HARRY IM COMING” came her reply. Finally things are going right.

“I-IM BACK HERE SOMETHING, SOMETHING ATTACKED ME.”

The group came back into view “Shit they're still fucking together.” Leech cursed. Ok new plan she faked a limp “I-it hurts so bad I-I cant walk”

“Quick Maddie! Give me your jacket babe we gotta stop the bleeding” Dan shouted. He was brave and heroic she would have liked him and Maddie if she wasn't so hungry and determined to help her monster.

The group attempted to patch Leech’s self inflicted wounds up while she spun a tale about the monster in the sewer. Hoping that the fear and panic would set in soon.

Meanwhile Jim made his way through the sewer nervously having only his phone light to guide him. He heard something around the corner it was like the snore of a terrible animal. Leech’s loyal servant cautiously peaked his head out to find the killer clown propped up peacefully against the wall clutching his vampire’s heels in his hands. It'd be pretty cute if the creature wasn't the most terrifying thing he’s ever encountered.

“U-uh um Mr. Pennywise?” he called out the clown didn't stir. Jim gulped and stepped closer leaning down cautiously to quickly poke the sleeping monster. “Mr Pennywise wake up…”

No response from Pennywise. He tried shaking him this time… nothing. His last attempt he kicked the monster hard in frustration and when that gave him no result he slumped down against the wall burying his hands in his face. “Great my one big break and I end up blowing it. Now were both going to die down here.” He looked back over and Pennywise was gone Jim sat up a cold sweat running down his back.

The servant turned back around only to be nose to nose with the apex predator himself he shrieked in terror at the demon clowns red rimmed eyes and drooling fangs. “Hiya Jimbo!” the creature said in a mock cheerful voice. Jim sat there hyperventilating a bit and the clown tilted his head jingling his bells “m-m-my mast-t-ter t-told me to um f-find you.”

“And find me you did!” he grinned inhumanly wide revealing even more teeth

“s-s-she n-needs-“

“S-s-spill it out Jimmy boy before I spill something else for waking me up.”

“She fucked up sir. Needs help.”

The clown sniffed the air placing his hand on Jim’s face to shut him up. The sewer reeked of blood and fear. Pennywise growled “Follow.”

———————

Leech hissed as the humans tried to dress her self inflicted wounds “Who the hell taught you first aid?” she winced as Harry poured a flask of whiskey on her arm wound.

“Hold still Lucy we need to get you to a hospital” He said with concern.

“No! We cant leave…. My friend!”

“look Maddie and I will keep searching for her after we make sure you're ok.” Dan said reassuringly

“Why don't I stay here with her and you guys find the exit” Harry suggested. FINALLY Leech said to herself.

“You sure you guys will be ok?” Maddie asked. Poor sweet girl the vampire thought Pen will love  playing with her. Leech paused for a moment realizing what she was saying “What the hell is coming over me I really am a monster” she thought to herself as the couple left. Once they were alone Harry was getting more and more handsy touching her leg, her good arm, placing his hand on her head this human was trying so hard to get the damsel in distress. Leech pretty much had enough of it at this point but couldn't dispatch him until she was sure the other two wouldn't hear. She needed to get them to move. The vampire stood up, Harry reached out to steady her “we have to keep going.” she said to him fake limping down the tunnel. “Lucy no you cant you're too hurt!”

“I cant just leave her!” she turned a corner leading him to what she knew was a dead end ,away from the other two human’s line of hearing. Harry put his arm around her waist and let her lean on him for support. Pennywise had been watching the scene with Jim from a different pipe, the clown growling at the way this human was touching his girl. “Shit how'd that happen?” Jim asked

“Its an act. And a dangerous one on her part. She's taking stupid a risk bringing in so many humans.” the clown grumbled.

“Wait here servant, I will take care of the other humans if she is in trouble call for me.”

“You know just because you're dating her doesn't mean I serve you too.” Jim hissed but the clown was gone.

Leech continued to lead Harry down the dead end pipe path until they came to the finish. She faked falling over in order to drag Harry down with her causing him to cut his hand on a broken bottle on the sewer floor. “Shit!” he shouted

“oh dear Harry! I'm so sorry!” Leech faked concern the scent of fresh human blood in the air was becoming more and more enticing. She tired to remind herself to keep control she had to bring this one back to Pen still somewhat alive, but her hunger was becoming overwhelming now. The monster inside her had begun taking over and her breathing became more labored. She was zoning out staring at the bloody hand each drop felt like the beat of her own pulse. She was injured and starving. This was it she had to feed.

“Harry dear~” she cooed out to the human “Let me kiss it and make it better” she was feverish  sweat dripped down the side of her brow. At this point she’d take Pennywise being upset with her for a taste of the crimson life oozing from the wound.

“Wait your serious?! And here I thought you didn't like me!”

“Deadly serious darling.” Penny can wait she needed this.

The young vampire brought his hand to her mouth and licked, her eyes rolling all the way back into her skull with full teeth on display. Oh god the taste was incredible. Leech got high all the time but this was unlike any she’d ever felt. Fresh blood straight from the tap so warm so savory. More. She thought.

“wh-what the fuck?” Harry panicked a bit seeing her long serpentine tongue roll out of her fang filled mouth. The vampires eyes were hollow and her nails were growing with each lick of his palm. she was groaning obscenely every taste pure ecstasy in her mouth.

“what the fuck are you!” he screamed Leech’s soul-less eyes flashed up at him like that of an animal in the moonlight “I wanna taste the way that you bleed baby” she hissed out in a state that was somewhere between deranged and aroused. Leech bit down into the wound moaning from the gush of life running down her throat “so this is what Pen means by playing with his food” she thought and chuckled to herself.

Harry was screeching now his other hand punching the vampire hard in the face causing her to release him. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU” he shrieked.

Leech pulled off her wig and smiled eyes wide and shining in the dark. “I’m Hungry” The vampire tore off her dress as her body began to change, limbs stretching longer, ears folding up against her head even bigger now but still she kept her trade mark gauges. Her eyes grew larger, her cheeks sunk in to give her face a skeletal like appearance and her teeth that hung out of her mouth doubled in size as her jaw unhinged. She crawled along the floor towards him like a vampire bat that had landed on the ground, awkward long claws rhythmically clicking against the stone almost mocking her prey, who was shouting and crying at the horrific skeletal like creature before him. She charged with blinding speed finding the humans neck and biting hard laughing at the sound he made in pure deranged bliss as she drank. Harrys blood spilled out of her mouth as she came up from his neck, and she let out a horrible screech before ripping the human to pieces shredding the body with no mercy.

Jim watched the whole scene mortified and frozen in terror. The clown was behind him covered in blood from dispatching Dan and in a much better mood. He apparently had been there the whole time watching the scene as if he'd just found god.

“You know I was going to get mad at her for taking my kill, but I'm so turned on right now I don't even care” the clown said casually munching on Harry’s femur that had been thrown down the passage.

“Dude! What the fuck man” Jim turned to the clown in disgust.

“Don't kink shame me Jim.” Pennywise sucked on a piece of the bone admiring the flavor. “Not bad!” he mused.

“She’s turning that guy into fucking paste y-you’re back here pitching tents.”

“I know, I think I'm in love.” Pennywise grinned dreamily.

“Dude, why do you have to make this weird.”

“Dont you have somewhere else you can go? You're killing the mood.”

Leech looked up from her meal and shrieked at them. The clown grinned and stepped forward giving her a round of applause. “Thats my girl!!”  Pennywise shouted walking up to her “You’re a natural kitten!” the vampire screamed again protectively over her meal and Pennywise laughed “Oh ho ho! My dear I’ve had my meal for the day…which thank you by the way… don't worry I’ll let you keep your prize this time.” the clown continued to walk forward and Leech continued to screech at him. He furrowed his brow in confusion “Kitten?” the vampire crawled toward him. “Leech?” a claw wrapped around the clowns entire chest yanking him forward to her. “Uh oh.” Pennywise squeaked out before Leech shrieked into his face.

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

Poor Jimbo man he cant even get his master to say his actual name and now he has to deal with her irritable clown boyfriend AND her hangry mode. But anyway I loved writing the death and dismemberment. Expect more of that. Lots more. 

[galimatios]

fear thy fortune chatlog notes

thinking abt the underdeveloped au i have in that weird off color fantasy universe that i realized is probably similar in ways to bloodborne even before i knew abt bloodbornes plot but this is nice bc i can solidify parts of it and i can probably also combine it with the knights au i have

OK I FORGOT TO PUT A CW HERE BUT CW FOR ABUSE MENT AND GORE MENT

somewhere located in present day west asia slash east europe theres a country divided into numerous states in which princes and princesses (princex (poc)/princen/etc for gender neutral options) are perpetually in contest with eachother for the right to be the divine ruler of the country

monarchy is not guided by blood, rather the church is responsible for finding the chosen candidates via prophecy, fururesight, dream interpretation, etc, and these kids are taken from their homes and reared as royalty the nature of this country is ... severe. pain is a gift, proof that one is alive. much ceremony is based in sacrifice, bloodspill, bloodsports, and pain endurance. magic as practiced by the church is extremely powerful in terms of healing so almost all wounds can be healed provided the heart still beats its essentially one big huge freakish cult of a country that has customs that seem barbaric to outsiders

the divine ruler of each state is the princens, though more often than not their councils do most of the governing with the princen merely being a puppet figurehead. they go through rigorous training to sharpen their minds and endurance against all types of pain, so training includes physical, mental, emotional trials in which the princen is supposed to keep a clear mind, concentrate on mediation or some mantra, bearing whatever is thrown at them. additionally they receive the best training in both combat and politics as well as magic. not all princen can withstand the requirements ofc so they.. vary quite a bit in terms of stability/constitution. its a p sick system even without the knights added in bc thats super messed up

the knights essentially belong to their princens in heart body mind and soul, and each princen receives exactly one knight soulbound to them. they also undergo the same scouting process once the princen is identified, and they undergo similar training except theyre also essentially brainwashed into believing their entire purpose in life is to serve and protect their princen no matter what. obviously this aint healthy! knights delude themselves into it so hard theyll fight for the system that literally abuses them! but thats how cults work

that being said knights are extremely powerful. they act as the sole bodyguard of their princen and believe me you dont want to get inbetween a knight and their prince. they are known especially for their brutality when their lords are threatened. it is extremely common for limbs to be lost in skirmishes btwn assailants and a knight

this takes us to the games! which are essentially gladiator coliseum type bloodsport contests between knights of different princens. its a pretty big affair like how the Olympics are for us so the fanfare the cheering the everything is all there i prob dont need to describe it in detail but its very violent. its considered practice for the knights before the true battle-royale type event thats even BIGGER bc it determines who becomes god-king of the country. this time the princen join their knights in the battlefield and basically whoever is left standing is the new king

is it worth it? probably not bc i think being king actually means being killed to be sent up to the heavens bc god kings dont need bodies any longer in truth the entire debacle is a distraction set up by the church to keep the country under its own control. its super corrupt. the council behind every princen is actually made up of high ranking church members that convene regularly to manipulate the politics of the region

but thats mostly the governing sphere of this world. the commonfolk are removed from most of this violence aside from the indoctrination by the church and the messed up religion they practice. a lot of the belief system here relies on this concept of karma and fate over free will. fate is oppressive, cannot be changed, but god do they try that belief ties into how princen and knights are fated to be pairs, how princen are fated to either ascend to godhood or die trying

but there is one way to manipulate fates in this world there exists in independent of the church a monastery that practices the art of transferring karma. think of karma as a type of currency that can be spent, saved, used, etc. lots of good karma may be distributed amongst loved ones via a ritual headed by a monk, or bad karma can be "paid off" essentially. the amount of good/bad karma a person has directly affects their fortune and luck. this practice is more or less outlawed by the church but the monastery is slowly gaining power over the commonfolk and the church mostly leaves the poor folk to rot anyway- their agenda mostly concerns the monarchy

altho i can definitely see tensions rising with the witch hunting as influenced by the church. particularly nefarious visions may result in blame being thrown around and commoners getting killed for crimes they have yet to commit and thats thanks to the teachings of the church

anyway as of rn though the monastery is still pretty small but it is an old, ancient organization with magic that runs far deeper than the magic of the church. it is a much more subtle magic- monks practice little offensive magic (they are a nonviolent sort anyway) but the ability to exchange karma is rare and has far more reaching impact in the long run i imagine they have strongholds further to the east but anyway theres one trump card the monastic order has

a subsection of the order is dedicated to the keeping of miracles. and miracles are... monsters! they are semi-physical manifestations of literal suffering and the sheer emotional energy provided by them is enough to give miracles the power to.. well. perform miracles.

when a person dies in anguish, there is a chance that their bodies will not decompose the way they are meant to. instead they slowly dissipate, bodies turning coal black and ashen to the touch. these cannot be disposed of the normal way (curses, contamination, all kinds of horrible things happen) so instead these corpses get locked up inside brick cells within the monastery

once, one of these was opened only to reveal that the bodies were gone- only a humming, massive shadow that seemed to move as if made of flies or soot combined. and it spoke, too. this was the first miracle created it was discovered then that these creatures had immense power but could not leave the rooms they were imprisoned in, touch sunlight, and similarly they could not die

imagine like the witchs nightmares in pmmm and you get what its like to be a soul trapped in a miracle. u get to relive ur worst fears and regrets forever. it suck miracles also cannot direct their powers towards their own will, only the will of others. ofc they are still monsters and exact a price for their services, whatever it may be.

a meeting with a miracle does not come cheap or without consequence, bc although miracles can be performed, karma always rebalances itself in the end. monks tasked with guarding and curating the miracles are called gatekeepers and are often someone close to one of the souls trapped in the vortex anyway i think thats the basics of everything in there... i got an au w cyrus as a prince and alex as his knight and instead of sticking around for their inevitable deaths the pair run off into the countryside far far away

actually i think something went wrong in the ceremony. cyrus and alex win godkingship of then... something goes wrong. probably the whole die-to-ascend thing is a secret kept from the princen and the public and. alex does a thing a knight should not do a refuses to let the ceremony continue. and im p sure as soon as cyrus learns of the truth hes like haha well fuck that

then they spend the rest of their days actually experiencing what life is like outside of a freakish cult and my fucking feels

i think.. meanwhile the monastic order grows in influence and power making them the enemy of the church... and jonah (yonah in this au) sacrifices himself to the miracle containing his brother in order to give the miracle a corporal form. which means august and company now have a physical conduit for all that power they had.

bad news for the church! bc august was unrightfully killed bc of a prophecy saying that hed become a huge threat and a killer

funny how prophecies work!

so now hes out for blood and he probably uses his own charisma and power to stage a coup against the church and basically the country goes to hell and i think at this point cyrus thinks. i got out of there alive. i need to do something about this. so he and alex probably join in and become arbiters of the game esp since cyrus and alex were probably the best synced, most skilled prince/knight duo the church had seen up to that date so theyre very powerful. ofc theyre still only two people so i really wonder how theyll step in btwn these two opposing parties

augusts side isnt good either bc august... is only out for revenge and self interest. he has no interest in fixing the country or helping anyone in fact once august is firmly seated on the throne of power he probably declares himself god-king anyway the end game probably looks like augusts body (which is jonahs body) being destroyed and the miracle contained in it finally put to rest jonahs soul must have something to do with the exorcism process- theyve tried to exorcise miracles before and only ended up upsetting it into violent outbursts anyway thats enough rambling from me time to paste this all into a blog post

god what if august picked keith to be his knight. thats messed up. keiths so easy to manipulate and hed be such a wildcard of a knight. he has more magic potential than alex and hes faster on his feet. im imagining bloodlust frenzy almost hyena-like behavior. also i mostly just want to see keith being violent and evil and i have an outfit in mind that would look great with a little splash of red

think like minimalistic ouji but like all black and keith with knives and serving a clearly twisted (even more than usual bc of the miracle’s influence) august

god even better the aftermath of augusts death TIME FOR THE FUCKING FEELS TO KICK IN BC now Keith has no purpose/he FAILED to protect his king WHICH WAS HIS ONLY PURPOSE IN LIFE then alex coming in with cy and just no, you have inherent worth. what happened wasn't right im upset this is how alex and keith become family in this au

miracles i think in this case are definitely more of a means to an end i think narratively ie jonahs brother being killed and augusts soul being trapped within it- tho i think its a good tie-in into how the severe paranoid cultish way the society works ends up producing a lot of People Dying In Extreme Anguish

almost a buildup of sickness so to say.. a plague of the soul that's a cool avenue to go down tbh the idea that miracles are more like viruses spreading misfortune in the long run for some quick gain in this life but bc karma always collects her debts if i throw in some nice reincarnation that would effectively damn someone in their next life... that implies that this story may need to expand across different generations

mechanics being so much bullshit has happened in this country it houses multiple miracles whereas elsewhere its like one, or none, very few in their histories except possibly during wartime and famine

since magic is Exists in this it makes sense that the emotional energy combined w ambient energy would manifest in some kind of grotesque Being

oh no thats maybe why the church is manipulating things by purposely generating that emotional trauma in its society its producing unprecedented amounts of energy they can utilize as magic power oh  no thats super bad august would definitely take advantage of that bc hed definitely figure the truth out once hes back to being alive

im upset bc i think they use princens and knights to specifically create emotional energy

energy released upon death which typically happens after a knight/prince duo has been chosen... then the resulting STRONG ass char plague on their bodies are collected to make artifacts? yes

gems created from the ashen plague are embedded into a huge mandala that actually ... is the god-king itself

[the-master-cylinder]

SUMMARY Father O’Sullivan is a Catholic priest who has lost his faith in God and who cannot forget the nun with whom he once had an affair (and a son). O’Sullivan serves as tour guide for archaeological student Cal, New Agers Wilbur and Clarisse Lemming, runaway Laurie, and tourists Dozois and Frost on a bus trip to Mexico. No one is more surprised than O’Sullivan when his love, Tessie, also boards the bus with her bratty son Ivan. In Mexico, Cal reveals his knowledge of a crucial ancient text, just in time for the Day of the Dead festivities. Meanwhile, evil Dr. Um-tzec is planning an apotheosis for himself that will culminate in his incarnation as the Death God, and what he needs to accomplish this is the hearts of sacrificial children … lots and lots of hearts. While Father O’Sullivan grapples with the emotions of seeing Tessie again, he is approached by Dr. Um-tzec to perform an exorcism; but Um-tzec has deceived him and O’Sullivan is thereafter occasionally possessed by the Death God. Fighting the possession, O’Sullivan tries to rescue Ivan, who is regarded as a perfect sacrificial victim. Now Tessie, Cal, Laurie, and the bickering Lemmings must pull together to stop Dr. Um-tzec and O’Sullivan from completing the apotheosis ritual.

DEVELOPMENT/PRODUCTION Not that I’m superstitious, but every seven years, I seem to change careers. My first was as an avant garde composer, my second a science-fiction, fantasy and finally horror novelist. The third seven-year stretch was coming up, so I showed up in Hollywood a year and a half ago with a vague notion of doing something in film. I took meetings, jacuzzed with grim determination, and flashed my fake Rolex watch at all the right people, but no new career emerged. One day, I read in Twilight Zone magazine that I was one of the ancestors of the literary splatterpunk movement. A number of other ancestors were mentioned, but they were all either twice my age or dead. I began to feel like a has been. Then, one day in June 1988, it all changed. Nine months later, much to my own astonishment, I looked on as my first film, The Laughing Dead, screened for a crowd of avid genre fans.

Lex Nakashima was the next person to show up. He was a young producer who had developed a number of large scale fantasy projects, and an old friend. “We have to gain credibility in this town,” I said. “We have to make a movie – no matter how small-scale–so that we can gain the clout to raise money for the huge projects we’ve both been dreaming about. A horror movie would be nice.”

“Can we set it in Oaxaca?” Lex asked.

I thought about it. Oaxaca, Mexico, is the home of the festival of the laughing dead, a strange blend of Catholicism and pre-Columbian religions- people dressed as skeletons dancing through the streets, celebrants feasting over the graves of their ancestors. “Sure,” I decided. “I can write that.” My mind was racing wildly, trying to figure out a plot.

“Fine,” said Lex, “I’ll get a second mortgage on my house. You’ll be the executive producer, and I’ll produce.” At his best, Lex is one of the most decisive people I know.

Lex went to a New Age bookstore in Santa Monica and came back with a couple hundred dollars’ worth of books about the culture of the ancient Mayans, and in a few weeks’ time, I had the beginnings of a viable story. I wanted to have a lot of spectacle, I wanted a lot of black humor, and I wanted colorful, imaginative gore that would really appeal to the crowd. Could we really do it on $250,000? Probably not, I told myself, although I did not then envision that the budget would eventually reach seven figures.

Who could direct the film? I thought of another friend, Wendy Ikeguchi, who had been an assistant director on projects as varied as Wisdom and The Days and Nights of Molly Dodd. Would she care to direct? I inquired, knowing full well that although I had conceived the story and already mentally cast it, I didn’t at that time know much about the technical aspects of directing. I only knew what I wanted to see on the screen.

“Direct it yourself,” Wendy told me.

I didn’t quite trust myself yet. I tried to talk Wendy into it for some weeks, but to no avail. She’s a member of the Director’s Guild and, in the final analysis, we couldn’t afford their rates. Instead, she signed on as executive producer and directorial advisor, in which capacity she could tell me what to do in no uncertain terms. “You’re supposed to say ‘action’ now, Somtow, she reprimanded me when my mind started wandering one day. We disagreed about many things in fact, it might be fair to say that we fought like cats and dogs but her input proved indispensible to the project.

We needed someone to design the production, someone who really understood the tone of the movie, who knew a lot about pre-Columbian cultures, and who wouldn’t be fazed at the number and variety of sets needed in The Laughing Dead: the Mayan temple interior, the labyrinthine caves, seedy hotel lobbies and scenes of macabre revelry. Ryan Ellner, a former roommate of mine who worked for Freddy’s Nightmares as, among other things, a maker of Freddy gloves, introduced me to Philip Vasels and Diane Hughes. They’re responsible for both sets in Los Angeles and on location in the western-set ‘town’ of Old Tuscon, Arizona, were designed and constructed by the team. They built the seemingly endless underground caverns and, for the film’s finale, the Mayan ball court of death.

Philip later confided, “I thought, Oh no, one of those movies.’ But after I read the script, I realized there was a lot more to it.” I knew we had hired the right people when one day Philip called to tell me, “I don’t dare go into that inner room. I’m too scared.”

He meant the inner chamber of Dr. Um-Tzec’s office, the scene of a demonic possession and a kinky, bloody heart exchange sequence, the dark midpoint of the film. What transpires in the room is the hinge, the corrupt center of the entire story. It’s a metaphor for the equation of sex with death. When I learned how disturbed Philip was by the meaning of the room, I knew we were on the same wavelength. Despite the flashiness of some of the other sets, the Dr. Um-Tzec “suite– the death god’s office and the inner room-is Vasels and Hughes’ most inspired creation.

The next person I called was the man with whom I used to share a house when I lived on the East Coast: writer, raconteur and madman Tim Sullivan Beside being a very fine writer of everything from elegant horror to “V” novels, Tim Sullivan had just done a bit of acting, a PBS thing in his native Philadelphia. I was thinking of Tim for the role of a Catholic priest who, tormented by guilt over having seduced a nun 12 years before, turns into a crazed killer when possessed by Um-Tzec, the Mayan death god. Tim had wanted to be a monster since childhood. Although he was a little surprised at being asked to drop everything he was doing, fly out from Philadelphia and act, he was used to my eccentricities. He was the first person (aside from Lex) to actually believe there might be something to my claim that we were about to make a movie. Two months later, he was on my doorstep, suitcase in hand, making the sign of the cross at my neighbors.

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Many of my friends are writers, so we soon had several well known ones roped in for cameos, everyone from science fiction author Ed Bryant (whose head gets crushed by a bus in the film) to longtime collector and fan Forry Ackerman, who does a charming little turn as a corpse. As other scribes ranging from Tim (The Anubis Gates) Powers to film critic Bill Warren began volunteering to die horribly, I realized that we had a pretty good gimmick going.

Two weeks before we were scheduled to start shooting on location in Arizona, we acquired our director of photography, David Boyd. Again, I felt fortunate to have found someone so sympathetic with my vision. The quirky neo-Expressionist angles, the Mario Bavaesque lighting, the painterly composition of his shots often provide an ironic undertone to the black comedy.

David Boyd explains what it was like to have writers instead of actors on set. ‘Actors,’ he says, ‘tend to be consumed by self-involvement. These guys were different. They understood my job much better than actors – you could talk about metaphorical lighting and camerawork and they would understand.’ Then crazy, star struck writers will do almost anything for almost nothing.

Thanksgiving came and went. We were on our way to Old Tucson for the most grueling 19 days of my life, some days with as many as 52 setups. The Arizona portion of the shoot had a party atmosphere despite the peculiar working conditions. Two other films were being shot on the same location, including Speed Zone, so Robert Shelton, who runs Old Tucson, was juggling as fast as he could. One day we shared the set with more than 1,000 high school students who were having a banquet, and I prayed that the sound of distant cheerleading choruses could somehow be disguised, in the audio mix, as the sound of crickets or birds through the use of clever signal processing.

On the opening day, I was in my UmTzec regalia atop a towering mountain and about to plunge a knife into my hapless niece Vanina, who was playing Victim #1. I couldn’t see a thing without my glasses, and I was trying to walk downhill toward Wendy Ikeguchi, whose blurry form was waving frantically in the distance, I took a Chaplinesque tumble, sprained my ankle, and thought that all was lost until my mother (who taught me everything I know about horror, and who was working with us as a production supervisor) explained to me that I shouldn’t have attempted to portray a god without making the appropriate blood sacrifice; now that my foot was bleeding onto the earth, everything would be OK. I limped away, wondering if I’d be completely useless for the rest of the shoot.

Soon everyone was ready to kill me, because my script was about warm tropical nights and the real temperature in Tucson in the middle of the night was below freezing. Timson Hill and John Anthoni, who played Dr. Um-Tzec’s evil acolytes, suffered in particular, as they stood in their skimpy costumes in the biting desert wind. One of the key FX-the crushing of Ed Bryant’s head under the wheels of a bus-didn’t come off the first time; the blood balloons failed to burst. I heard Wendy Ikeguchi cry out, “Where’s the blood, where’s the blood?” and we all rushed over to find that the head had been squashed flat. Was it ruined? We watched in astonishment as the head popped right back into shape the minute the bus pulled away. No one had ever dreamed that the head would be reusable.

We didn’t sleep much. We ate gargantuan portions of steak at the Pack ‘Em In Steak House across the street from our motel, and a week later we were ready to return to Los Angeles, where the Vasels and Hughes team had been wildly constructing sets in our absence. More spectacle was to come: Ryan Effner’s and my turning into monsters, the nasty Caesarean section dream sequence, the hotel lobby sequence in which Father O’Sullivan goes crazy and spatters the wall with women’s brains, and the climax, a recreation of the Mayan ballgame of death replete with zombies, dinosaur battle, a collapsing temple a la Last Days of Pompeii and an exploding hotel.

Interview with S. P. Somtow

Instead of wing for going for name actors, you’ve brought together a swill of self and horror writers S. P. Somtow: We didn’t have any money when I wrote the screenplay, so I found it easier to write the roles around people that knew, that would work for next to nothing. They really are playing themselves.

You describe the film as being a cross between NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD and KRAMER VERSUS KRAMER, with a little NIGHT OF THE IGUANA thrown in at the end. That sounds sick. S. P. Somtow: Now I guess I’d just call it a neo-expressionistic, black comedy. It has an exaggerated quality to it. I find it very hard to write about anything without looking at its absurd qualities. Horror is so close to comedy in its structure. They both depend on misleading the expectations of the audience. If a guy slips on a banana peel, it’s comedy. If he breaks his neck when he hits the ground, it’s horror.

But if they’re so close, then why does big-budget-Hollywood prefer comedy over horror? S. P. Somtow: Horror comes from a nasty part of the mind. People with a lot of money like to shield themselves, with their money.

Your books don’t have the humorous, satirical edge that LAUGHING DEAD does. S. P. Somtow: No, and in fact the novel version of LAUGHING DEAD. which I’m working on now. is not satirical. But it’s the ambiguity that I enjoy. And that is something that I see about my own work.

Where is your accent from? S. P. Somtow: I was born in Thailand, and left there when I was 6 months old. We went to Europe. I went back to Thailand when I was 7. and then I went to Eton Preparatory school in London. It’s a horrible little place. This was in the mid sixties. We were a bunch of 14 year olds discussing the sexual imagery in Bergman’s films. Then I went on to Cambridge, and received a degree in Music and English Literature. I went back to Thailand, and became a hideous figure in Thailand music.

How did you end up writing horror novels S. P. Somtow: Every time a horror writer talks about his roots, it always goes back to his mother. In my case, it was because my mother would take me to every horror film, and watch them over and over. She would watch them with her hand over her eyes for the entire movies. She made me go, because she didn’t want to go alone. To this day, she rents every sleazy B movie she can get her hands on. She worked on LAUGHING DEAD as a production supervisor

SPECIAL EFFECTS By carefully conserving his budget, Somtow had enough money to acquire the services of John Buechler’s Mechanical Make-up Imageries (MMI) studio and staff to create glorious special effects. Buechler, claimed that for him The Laughing Dead was ‘a labour of love’. The feeling can certainly be seen in the wondrous effects he and his people devised. For example: Tess has a nightmare in which she gives birth to a murderous version of her own son. A bus driver is squashed by his own vehicle. And people transform into grotesque, serpentine gods of the ancient Maya.

Also producing special effects for the film was relative newcomer Rik Carter and his LA team. They created the zombie make-up and some of the simpler but no less stunning effects. In one sequence, Father O’Sullivan stands paralyzed as UnTzec’s evil assistant bares and then tears open her breasts, removes her heart and buries it in the priest’s chest, thereby giving Um-Tzec possession of O’Sullivan’s soul. And Frost loses one arm to the possessed priest, then has it stuffed viciously down his throat, his swallowed fingers wriggling out of his neck courtesy of Carter’s effects work. A gripping death, so to speak.

After John Buechler came on board, the movie really began to gel. Buechler’s name was well known enough in the horror/fantasy field to lend us the clout to draw in many other figures. I was deeply moved when John offered to do the creature transformations and the makeup FX for The Laughing Dead. I hadn’t dared ask him, because–even though our budget had, by then, tripled-I considered him, with all his credits, too exalted a figure to want to take part in our little venture. “Trn intrigued by the script,” he said. “It’s disturbing, and it’s funny. He then proceeded to make us an offer we couldn’t refuse. Buechler also talked me into playing the somewhat-more-than-a cameo role of the evil Dr. Um-Tzec. “Why, Somtow,” he kept saying, “it’s you. Can’t you see that? Rik Carter signed on to do the rest of the makeup FX, in particular an arm-down-the throat gag that became one of the show’s highlights.

“Another reason I’m doing this for you,” John Buechler told me, “is that I’ve never seen anyone attempt so much with so little money!”

CAST/CREW Directed by Somtow Sucharitkul (as S. P. Somtow)

Writing Credits Somtow Sucharitkul (written by) (as S. P. Somtow)

Joey Acedo … Policeman #1 John Anthoni … Acolyte #1 (as John-Anthoni) Hank Azcona … Police Sergeant Bruce Barlow … Kukulcan George Barnett … Policeman #2 Edward Bryant … Bus Driver Michael Bustamante Boy In Graveyard Matt Demeritt … Harlan (as Matthew De Merritt) Premika Eaton … Laurie

Special Effects John Carl Buechler … designer: Magical Media Industries (as John Buechler) Rik Carter … special makeup effects Jake Johnson … special makeup effects Elinor Mavor … hair stylist / makeup artist Richard Rouse … hair stylist / makeup artist David Stinnett … special makeup effects (as Dave Stinnett) Jane Whitehead … special makeup effects

Michael Deak … location crew: Magical Media Industries (as Mike ‘Duct-Tape’ Deak) John Foster … location crew: Magical Media Industries / production manager: Magical Media Industries Mecki Heussen … lab technician: Magical Media Industries Robert Houghtaling … lab technician: Magical Media Industries John P. Jockinsen … special effects coordinator (as John Jockinsen) Timothy Ralston … coordinator: Magical Media Industries (as Tim Ralston) / location crew: Magical Media Industries (as Tim Ralston) / supervisor: Magical Media Industries (as Tim Ralston) Chris Robbins … head fabricator: Magical Media Industries / location crew: Magical Media Industries Wayne Toth … location crew: Magical Media Industries

CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY FEAR 08/1989 Horrorfan#03 Slaughterhouse#05 Gorezone#09

The Laughing Dead (1990) Retrospective SUMMARY Father O'Sullivan is a Catholic priest who has lost his faith in God and who cannot forget the nun with whom he once had an affair (and a son).