#Lucile Harrington

[antiquatedsimmer]

The mention of the word "temporary" pulled Lucile back into reality. "What do you mean, temporary? If it even comes to that, we'll just bury Ma and Pa here."

She hated even having to talk about this so soon.

Silas took a deep breath, trying to choosing his words carefully.

"I understand how you feel, Lucile. But we need to be prepared. The doctors aren't hopeful, We can honor them properly and keep them close. "

"It makes no sense to move them to a cemetery when they can be laid to rest here!" Lucile protested, her voice trembling with emotion.

Silas rubbed his temples, trying to remain composed. "Lucile, you need to think ahead! My work isn't going to keep me here forever. I'm planning to move to New York, and once that's finalized, the land here will be sold."

" It will be easier to move when they are properly accommodated in a cemetery. "

Rage boiled over in Lucile. "You understand how I feel? I've been the one tending to Mother and Father since before they fell ill!

"I've bathed them, changed their sheets, fed them medicine and have been doing all the farm work myself! "

" And now this is how you tell me that after Ma and Pa's death, you'll sell off the land?"

"I'm the one paying for everything!" Silas finally shouted back. "The medicine and taxes all fall on me! The house is barely standing, and no one will want to purchase the land with a old property on it!"

"It's your fault you failed to marry someone to help with this burden. Instead, I'm saddled with the obligation to accommodate you! "

"All I've ever done is take care of our family, This is all I have Silas!"

"You don't have anything!" he shouted. "The land belongs to me! You're being hysterical. I can never talk to you because you're always like this. If you wanted to live here, you should've made something of yourself, like I did!"

Lucile was so angry she couldn't speak... the stress of this and all that was to come was just too much to take in right now.

Silas finally calmed at her silence.

"Now that we agree-"

"More tea?" Josephine's voice sounded from the parlor doorway, bringing their argument to a sudden halt.

Silas straightened up, his tone abruptly changing. "No, we were just finished. Clean this up, I'll be in my office." He rose from his seat, avoiding Lucile's eyes, and walked out of the room.

Once the slam of his office door could finally be heard Lucile took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as Josephine began tidying up the papers and teacups.

"I'm sorry..." Lucile murmured, her voice shaky.

" Don't be, we're here for you. "

[nottobehornyonthemain]

I’m just going to throw my hat into the ring about Steve’s parents because I’m bored. But like, Let’s spice up the level of shitty parenting.

Give me a Mrs. Harrington who’s actually a professional. Steve has said that she’s “super well respected” and, for as much as the fandom likes to play him as a dumbass, you don’t put people whoes only achievement is being a jealous housewife on your résumé, especially when you have another parent with a notable (ostensibly white collar) career.

Give me a Mrs. Harrington who’s a news anchor, or a lawyer. Give me a Mrs. Harrington who worked her ass off to be taken seriously by men for the entire late 50’s and early 60’s. Give me a young, ambitious woman with hazel eyes at a mixer for the company she’s working for in Chicago one night, who caught the eye of the charismatic man with ridiculous fluffy brown hair.

Give me a Mr. Harrington who grew up with a veteran father who never really seemed to care. Give me a little boy waiting, every day, for his dad’s letters, waiting for his father Otis to get back from this horrible war. And then he does, and he’s a hero, and suddenly it’s like nothing his son does is worth his notice. When he’s 15 and gets into his first fight? Otis doesn’t even comment on his bruised face before he walks out the door in the morning. When he gets into college? His mother is the one to hand him the watch his parents allegedly both got him as a graduation present. When he gets a job! A good job, where he has his own office and his name on a plate on his desk, not so much as a card.

Give me a Mr. Harrington who promised himself that, if he ever had a son, he would notice. He would pay attention to his kid’s grades, and what they were doing in school. That he would be proud of whatever college his son got into. That if his kid was ever doing something stupid, drinking, fighting, smoking, he would care. And he would say something.

Give me a Mr. Harrington meeting a beautiful woman in Chicago one night, and somehow, convincing her to come back to Hawkins with him. Give me the big news engagement and the blowout wedding fit for two people with nowhere to go but up.

Give me the Harrington couple buying their house, and planning to wait a few years before they start having children. Give me them having their first child, a son.

Give me a Mrs. Harrington being offered the promotion she’s been working towards for years almost immediately after, and taking it.

Give me a Mr. Harrington who never really thought his wife would keep working when they had children, but being smart enough not to say anything about it. Give me them realizing that, between both of their jobs, plans change, and their son will be their only child.

Give me a Mrs. Harrington who “doesn’t trust” her husband not because he might be cheating on her, but because, for as much as he can charm and schmooze with just about anyone, he has never had anyone tell him that he lacks actual understanding of his business. Give me a Mrs. Harrington seeing a stack of papers her husband brought home last night where the math doesn’t quite add up. Give me the blowout fight over his shady new business partner and the costs they could save if they just… cut a few corners. Give me her struggling to be taken seriously and explain to him that the consequences could be actual jail time and a complete destruction of their lives. Give me him hating that she thinks she knows better than him about his own business.

Give me a Mr. Harrington who keeps his promise to care about what his son is doing. Give me his unnecessary lectures, and comments and micromanagement whenever his son walks in the door.

Give me a Mrs. Harrington who couldn’t care less what her son is doing as long as he’s alive. Give me her bitchy comments that have been her best defense in the professional world for so long rubbing off on her son.

Give me a Steve who’s let it shape him. Who got his brown eyes, and desire to be at the top of the social sphere as soon as possible from his mom. Who got his begrudging tendencies to care while still finding something to complain about from his dad.

Give me a Harrington couple who isn’t absent, exactly. Who have the occasional business trip, but are actually in town when most of this stuff goes down. Give me a house that’s almost always empty, not because no one lives there, but because Mrs. Harrington is out late again tonight because the boss needs to be sure everything is in perfect order for Monday. Because Mr. Harrington absolutely has to close this deal. Because Steve has practice for both swimming and basketball today.

Give me a Steve who craves the domestic because of this. Who doesn’t have big plans or ambitions. Who, at his center, just wants to be able to flop on the couch and watch movies with the people he cares about. Who wants family vacations, and kids, and a big house filled with noise. Give me a Steve who understands that that’s where his love of parties came from.

Give me a Mr. Harrington who watches as his son seems to completely throw away everything he worked so hard to give him. Give me the fights over the beer, and the weed, and the grades. Give me the bombshell that his son didn’t even manage to get into college, and the realization that he needs to learn to be responsible.

Give me a Mr. Harrington who comes home one night to Robin and Dustin eating cereal in his kitchen at midnight. Who doesn’t really know what to say, so he sets down his briefcase and eats a bowl of cereal while asking these children who they are and why they’re in his house. Give me a Mr. Harrington patting his son on the back the next morning and telling he how much he likes the nice girl who can speak every language, and the little boy who can recite the periodic table from memory. Give me a Mr. Harrington who knows he made the right decision when he made his son get a job of his own instead of just working for him.

Give me a Mrs. Harrington who, when Steve informs her in the middle of a conversation that he has a boyfriend, doesn’t look up from the mirror where she’s applying her eyeliner.

Give me a Steve who’s had enough of her not caring and asks her, “really? You don’t have anything to say?”

Give me a Mrs. Harrington icily meeting his eyes in the mirror and saying, “Steven. You’ve been putting egg in your hair once a week since you were twelve and a girl in your class told you it makes it shiny, and you’ve been stealing my hairspray even longer.” Then goes back to lining her eyes.

[milevenstancyendgame]

Not a very important detail, but how did Dustin even know about the bat, when he asked Steve about it in s2 at the Wheeler's house?

For all we know, this is the first time they met. Did Nancy tell Mike what happened at the Byers house with the demogorgon? Or did Jonathan tell Will and he told the party? The implication would be that they mentioned Steve using the bat. It must have changed the party's opinion of Steve, at least slightly (since they called him a douchebag and bad influence on Nancy in s1e1).

Also, why did Steve get to keep the bat?

[papermoonloveslucy]

RADIO on TV!

Radio Shows on Lucille Ball’s TV Sitcoms

Television was an outgrowth of radio. Many of our best loved shows originally came from radio - including “I Love Lucy,” which was inspired by the success of “My Favorite Husband”.  Here are a few stragglers - radio shows that were mentioned on Lucy TV! 

There was some thought about creating an “I Love Lucy” radio show to run in simultaneously with the television series as was being done with “Our Miss Brooks.” A pilot show was produced, but it never aired. It was created by editing the soundtrack of the television episode “Breaking the Lease”, with added narration. It included commercials for Philip Morris, which sponsored the TV series. Philip Morris eventually sponsored a radio edition of “My Little Margie” instead.  Here’s Ricky’s opening narration:

“Hello. I’m Ricky Ricardo and I’m the guy who loves Lucy. The whole thing started ten years ago.  I had just come to this country from Cuba and I didn’t know much about your customs.  The first girl I had a date with was Lucy. It was a romantic night and after all I had a reputation to live up to as a Latin lover so I kissed her goodnight. It was right then that she told me that under the Constitution of the United States if a man kisses a girl he has to marry her. Then I found out that she tricked me. I didn’t care. Because after all, if I hadn’t married her, I’d would have married someone else. And Lucy’s just like any other American girl, who is pretty, charming, witty, and partly insane.”

FREDDY FILLMORE QUIZ SHOWS

“The Quiz Show” (1951)

With Lucy’s household accounts in arrears, she goes on a radio quiz show to win a thousand dollars. All she has to do is pretend a complete stranger is her first husband in front of Ricky.  A tramp at the door throws a monkey wrench into the scheme!

This is the first of three episodes to feature Frank Nelson in the role of Freddy Fillmore, game show host extraordinaire. He is the host of “Females Are Fabulous”.  The announcer who encourages the audience to applaud is played by Lee Millar. The premise of the show has Lucy being pelted with various items (mostly liquids) when Ricky sings a trigger word from a safe distance. 

“Lucy Gets Ricky on the Radio” (1952)

When their TV breaks down, the gang tunes in to a radio quiz show. Surprisingly, Ricky correctly guesses the answers to all of the questions, so the next day Lucy signs them up to be on the show. Little did she know that the quiz was a delayed broadcast and that Ricky overheard the answers while at the studio!  This episode is based on Lucy’s radio show, “My Favorite Husband” “Quiz Show,” which aired October 23, 1948. In the radio version, the show was called “His and Hers” and is hosted by Smiley Stembottom (Frank Nelson). 

On television, the quiz show is called “Mr. and Mrs. Quiz” and is hosted by Freddy Fillmore (Frank Nelson again). 

Everyone on the series loved Roy Rowan’s on-screen announcing for "Mr. and Mrs. Quiz” so much that he then became the announcer for “I Love Lucy.”  To be sure Ricky wins, Lucy steals the questions. Unbeknownst to her, Fillmore changes the questions at the last minute so Lucy’s answers make no sense. 

The next time we see Freddy Fillmore he has made the transition to television with his latest quiz show “Be A Good Neighbor”.  

“Off To Florida” (1956)

Radio plays an integral role in the plot of the episode. Lucy and Ethel hitch a ride to Florida with a Mrs. Grundy (Elsa Lanchester), an eccentric woman. To fall sleep in the parked car, Lucy turns on the radio for some soothing music, until... 

NEWSCASTER: “Now here's the latest bulletin on the Evelyn Holmby case. Police have definitely established that Evelyn Holmby, famous gray-haired hatchet murderess who escaped from New York State Prison Thursday, is heading south in a cream-colored convertible coupe. Stand by for further bulletins. And now back to our recorded music.”

Having found a hatchet in the car’s trunk, Lucy puts two and two together and is wonders if their driver is the wanted criminal on the lam!  Lucy and Ethel chalk it up to coincidence. In the morning, they try to cat nap while Mrs. Grundy is driving. When they are sleeping, she turns on the radio. 

NEWSCASTER: “That winds up the news from Washington today. And here's the latest bulletin on Evelyn Holmby, escaped hatchet murderess. Police have learned that, before leaving New York, she dyed her gray hair red, and is heading south with a blonde companion.”

Now Mrs. Grundy suspects Lucy and Ethel!  

The radio announcer is voiced by Roy Roberts. The big band music in the background was also heard in “Country Club Dance” (1957).  

“Lucy is a Chaperone” (1963)

Lucy and Viv chaperone a group of Chris’s friends on a beach vacation. When the girls are dancing to music on the radio, Viv mistakes the Mashed Potato for the Jitterbug. When Lucy attempts the steps, Viv remarks that she's got “lumps in her gravy.” The Mashed Potato was a popular dance craze of 1962 made famous by James Brown.  A companion dance song was titled (appropriately) “Gravy”. This marks the first of many appearances by the red transistor radio - albeit in black and white!

“Ethel Merman and the Boy Scout Show” (1964)

During a tribute to show business, radio is represented by Mr. Mooney as a radio host presenting a lady saxophone player (Lucy) from Altoona, Pennsylvania, playing “Glow Worm” (poorly). 

“Lucy and the Beauty Doctor” (1965)

At the start of the episode, Lucy and Viv listen to the radio show “Morning Magazine of the Air” which presents Lady Cynthia's Beauty Tips. It is from this broadcast that Lucy hears about a $25 beauty treatment by Dr. Fleischer.

LADY CYNTHIA (voice on radio): “Good morning, ladies. How would you like to have your biggest beauty problem behind you?”  VIV (listening to radio): “That’s where mine is now.”

Lady Cynthia is voiced by Carole Cook and Sid Gould is the announcer. 

Now easily identified in color, Lucy’s red transistor radio will turn up many times on “The Lucy Show”, even after she moves to Los Angeles.

“Lucy the Disc Jockey” (1965) 

Lucy wins a mystery sound contest on the radio, winning $25 and the chance to be disc jockey for a day. Naturally, things don’t go smoothly when she takes over the studio. 

The host of the radio show Gordon ‘Fair’ Felson (Pat Harrington). The call letters of the radio station are WLDJ representing the first letter of each word in the episode’s title: “Lucy the Disc Jockey.”

After playing the mystery sound, Felson announces the return to “the swing sounds of Jan Garber.” Garber was a bandleader known for ‘sweet’ and ‘swing’ jazz. His nickname was “The Idol of the Air Lanes.”  

Mr. Mooney says that the ‘Name the Sound’ contest is the silliest thing since ‘Mrs. Hush’. The Mrs. Hush contest was a feature of “Truth or Consequences” radio show in 1947.

“Lucy the Rain Goddess” (1966) 

Herbie (Marc Cavell), the bank office boy, is blaring “Do The Watusi!” on his transistor radio. The song (without lyrics) was also heard in “Chris’s New Year’s Eve Party” (1962).  

“Lucy’s Burglar Alarm” (1969) 

At the start of the episode, Craig is practicing guitar and Kim is listening to a transistor radio playing an instrumental version of “I Know a Place” by Tony Hatch. The song was made popular in 1965 by Petula Clark. This is the third time the song has been heard on “Here’s Lucy.” 

“Lucy and Jack Benny’s Biography” (1970)

Helping Benny write his memoirs, Lucy plays all the women in Jack’s life. In the fourth flashback, Jack Benny is a radio star broadcasting with Mary Livingstone. In this sequence, Lucille Ball lip synchs to the voice of the real Mary Livingstone, who became Mrs. Jack Benny in 1927. 

“Lucy, the Other Woman” (1972)

While having breakfast, Lucy listens to a radio news report about a marital triangle that caused a Mrs. Mercedes Smith of Sherman Oaks to shoot a Mrs. Vivian Boone for breaking up her happy home. The newscaster is voiced by Roy Rowan. 

[livwritesstuff]

another steve/college-aged daughter phone call bc i liked writing the last one

Steve is at work when his middle daughter, Robbie, FaceTimes him. He’s between clients, so he answers it, and his phone screen lights up with a view of Robbie standing in front of her floor-length mirror.

Without any preamble, she asks, “Do you think this is okay to wear to court?”

Steve squints at his screen long enough to see that she’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and what looks like an oversized suit vest with a white button down underneath.

“Uh…I dunno about the jeans, hon,” he replies, and then his brain catches the court part of her question, “Wait – why are you going to court? Jury duty?”

“No, I’m contesting a parking ticket.”

“Another one?”

It’s true – since Robbie’s move to New York City for college a few years back, he’s lost count of how many parking tickets she’s gotten.

“This one was unfair.”

“She parked in a tow-zone,” he hears Moe supply from off-camera, “I thought it was nice they only gave her a ticket and didn’t tow it like they should have.”

“It’s not usually a tow-zone,” Robbie protested, “They should have made an announcement or something.”

“Like with a megaphone?” Moe asks, sounding baffled, and Steve has to hold in a laugh.

“Shut up,” Robbie fires back.

“Did they put up any signs, hon?” Steve asks her.

“No.”

“Yes,” Moe cuts in.

“Fuck off, Lucille.” And that does not go over well with Moe, obviously, because Robbie knows that calling her Lucille (which isn’t even her actual name; it’s just Lucy) is a spectacularly efficient way to piss her off.

Robbie’s phone is pointed at the ground so Steve can’t see what exactly is happening, but judging by the dull thump he hears and how it’s followed by Robbie’s frustrated “Stop it!”, he’d guess that Moe walloped her pretty good with one of Robbie’s many throw pillows.

“You stop it, Bedelia.”

And if Lucille isn’t Moe’s real name, Bedelia is even further from Robbie’s – it’s Amelia, actually, but Bedelia (as in Amelia Bedelia, the children’s book character) became a way for Moe to call her stupid without actually calling her stupid (a punishable offense in the Harrington house when they were growing up).

“Robbie, how much was the ticket?” Steve interrupts before the fighting can get too brutal.

“It’s not about how much it was,” she says as she flips the camera so he can see her face again, “It’s the principle of the thing.”

“It was only seventy dollars,” Moe tells him, “The outfit she bought was basically triple that.”

Steve sighs, and glances at the clock.

“Darling, I have to go. I really think you should call your Aunt Erica and see what she thinks about all this.”

[madebysimblr]

To the Met Ball! (3/3)

Whitney: And remember, if it gets to be too much Boris will take you straight home.

Charlotte: I know! It won't be though!

Darion: You say that now, but this is your first public event, Princess.

Charlotte: I knoooow! I still wish you would have let me go to some when I was a kid!

Whitney: [laughs] I wanted you to have a normal childhood. Sue me.

Charlotte: I just might if we don't get out of this car!!

Whitney: Alright, let's do this!

-

[TV BROADCAST]

Joan: And we're back! To the main event really, Whitney Harrington and Darion Meyers have FINALLY arrived.

Lucille: Not that you're biased or anything!

Joan: Maybe I am. I don't care. It helps that they always look good!

Lucille: That is true. They really are that Del Sol couple aren't they!

Joan: They really are. I mean, played a couple on TV and then became one in real life?? It's a fairy tale.

Lucille: Well except for the cheating.

Joan: SUCH old news- and wait what's this? Someone else in the car?? Oh sh**!!!! It looks like Charlotte Meyers is making her red carpet debut!!!

Lucille: Oh my god!! This is HUGE!!

Joan: There has barely been a glimpse of any of Harrington and Meyer's children since any of them have been born! Whitney in particular is incredibly protective of them.

Lucille: Which I don't fault her for!

Joan: I mean I suppose I don't either. But I'm nosy! What are they all like!!??

Lucille: Well Charlotte seems a little nervous… I'm sure this is overwhelming!

Joan: It is quite the event to pick for a debut I'll say that. Right! Fashion! Well, I think Charlotte's pick is very elegant, which I feel is perfectly on theme!

Lucille: Bella was truly such an elegant figure, it's true.

Joan: I also think it's the right touch of 'vampy'

Lucille: She's a new favorite for you I can already tell!

Joan: Maybe! Now, onto her parents. I mean what else do I say but just… Love! Darion embracing his own inner Bella I think with that suit. And Whitney… I mean that woman can do no wrong in my eyes. I'm sure she did her research too!

Lucille: Red really is her color. Such a pity she doesn't wear it more!

Joan: Couldn't agree more!! It does make this such a treat though!

Lucille: [That wraps up our coverage of this year's Met Gala!]

Joan: Tune in again next time!

[els-last-eggo]

#85

Eddie takes Steve to his senior prom (which he swore he'd never go to) but Robin wanted to go since she'd never been to a formal dance in high school with a date, but she and Nancy are going as "friends" so they convince Steve and Eddie to go, too. Only, Eddie's devious little mind comes up with a plan, and hilarity ensues. He knows he has to wear something formal, so he goes to a secondhand store (because he's not spending a million dollars for something he's gonna wear once, thank you very much) and buys the poofiest, sparkliest, most over the top ball gown that he can find, the highest heels that he can walk/dance in without breaking his ankles, a pair of super long white gloves and the gaudiest jewelry he can find. He buys it all and takes it home, walking around in the heels whenever he can to get used to them, and when prom night comes, Nancy and Robin come over to help him get ready. He shaves, washes his hair, shaves his legs and armpits, and lets the girls style his hair and give him a full face of makeup, and Nancy even lends him one of her bras to stuff to make it look like he's got tits. When they're done and he's all dressed and styled and made up, he actually does look like a woman, and it's hilarious. He helps Robin and Nancy get ready then, and Steve meets them at a nice restaurant for dinner, and from there they go to the dance. Steve is a little nervous about Eddie's whole plan, but they go over it in the car, and when they roll up to the venue, they're all ready to go. The story is that Eddie, also known as Lucille, just moved to Hawkins with her family and is homeschooled, but she lives in Steve's neighborhood and they hit it off and started dating, so since homeschooled kids get to go to the regular high school's prom, Steve decided to take her. Everyone else at the dance believes it, because why would Eddie "The Freak" Munson ever show up to a school dance? They all assume he's off doing a satanic ritual or something. So they completely believe that Lucille Merado is a real person and that she's dating Steve. All the girls at the dance are jealous that she's dating the former king of Hawkins High, and all the guys are jealous of Steve for managing to rope himself the "new prettiest girl in Hawkins". They act so lovey-dovey and cute and they're such a popular conversation topic that, by write in ballot, they're voted king and queen of the prom. They go on stage to accept their crowns and all that, and it's the first time Eddie has spoken all night when he says into the microphone "Guess who you fuckers just voted prom queen? '86 baby!" to the whole school. Jaws drop, and everyone is stunned, and their eyes widen in surprise when, holy shit, Eddie kisses Steve. And he just lets it happen. Not only did they just vote the school freak in drag as the prom queen, but they also see their former king/role model kissing said freak very passionately. Nancy, who runs the newspaper and also is on yearbook staff, snaps a picture and writes a whole article about it, praising the two of them for being so brave and cracking jokes left and right about how amazing it was, and if they hadn't already earned their spots, the names Stephen Harrington and Edward Munson are going down in history at Hawkins High.

[ibrithir-was-here]

Council of War

@animate-mush (and everyone else following/contributing to this AU!)

Arthur Holmwood stood with his hands pressed down hard upon the round table where he was holding cabinet; trying to look like the collected, confident, and assured leader he knew his organization needed him to be--and not the tired, battered, worn to unraveling wreck he felt like inside.

“I'm sure by now that you've all heard what happened last night”, he began, his voice low and solemn, but with an edge in it that made everyone in the room sit up straighter.

 “Count Dracula himself came into the grounds and attempted to abduct young Mr. Harker. He was stopped only by--by the quick intervention of Lucille”

If the agents around the table  noted the slight tremor in Arthur's voice as he recalled that particular event of the night, they wisely kept their silence.

“The Count was also followed by two more vampires who were also able to enter the grounds…Mr Harker's parents.”

This revelation did produce a faint flutter of disturbed whispering, which was instantly cut off by a firm look from Jack, seated as ever at Arthur's right hand.

“Both they and the Count managed to escape, miraculously without any casualties. And what I want to know now…” Athur said slowly, forcing himself with every inch of aristocratic decorum that had been drummed into him to keep calm -- 

“Is just how they all got here, where they are now, and how soon can we be ready to finally end this?”

Arthur stood straight, looking each person at the table in the eye, one by one. Each person in his organization had their reasons for being here, their own strange and often terrifying experience that brought them into his circle, that had led them to believe him and Jack in their warnings of the threats that lurked within the shadows.

Henry Harrington, who's brother had run afoul of a truly nasty hedge magician, who'd sent something to stalk his brother's steps day and night, and which finally overtook him on a lonesome road with no help in sight.

Harrington had gotten justice on the fiend, and had gladly joined their ranks when they'd crossed paths while doing research on one of their missions, determined that no one else's loved one would suffer a similar fate.

There was young Ben Edwards, who'd somehow caught the eye of a vampire-witch at the age of 16, and been stalked by her in dreams until only a few years ago, when she'd finally tried to sink her teeth into him upon the unfortunate occurrence of him being put up for the night in her old tower room.

 He'd escaped with his life and soul, been desperate for answers, stumbled onto Arthur's organization, and eagerly joined up. 

And Alwyne Hargreaves…she'd also found them, trying to make sense of the strange memories she had of being carried off by ‘A Bloofer Lady’. 

Arthur had been sick all day after their first interview, and Jack was not much better. 

Her experience had apparently rendered her sensitive to all manner of strange phenomena, and she and her employer (and later husband) had made a good business out of clearing out houses reputed--and often proved-- to be haunted, so that they could finally be put on market. 

Though her abilities often drained her, she was more than willing to put them to use to help keep her country safe. In truth, with her cheerful cleverness, she reminded him of what Mina might have been, had they all been luckier.

And, of course, dear, unstoppable Kate Reed, Lucy's old friend. Mina and Jonathan's old friend.

Their first recruit. 

She’d tracked him and Jack down after it had all gone wrong, demanding to know what had become of her friends, what he and Jack had done to them. 

Kate had dogged their steps until finally, she'd  found them facing down the last of the Count's victims, had seen what the no-longer-a-woman had done to her staff--to Lu's mother--and she'd had learned just what had happened to Lucy and Mina and Jonathan. And she'd vowed to fight  them ever since. 

 The people seated here at this table were his top agents, the ones he knew he could always count on in crisis, who had proved themselves time and time again, each time the threat of a vampire had reared its fangs, weather in town or country or seaside, they had risen to thrust it back down into the earth where it belonged. 

And none of them, it seems, had managed to see the devil coming until he--they, were at the door. 

There was a moment of weighted silence, each person at the table going over Arthur's questions. 

“As to how the Count got passed us, I'm sorry Art, I just don't know”, Kate said with quite calm, a calmness that Arthur knew well enough was hiding her own  unease and frustration that after all their preparation and prior successes they'd still all been taken so unprepared. 

Kate Reed wasn't a woman who brooked failure well, especially her own.

“But as to the Harkers…you told me that before you and Jack went off with the rest to try and stop Dracula that you performed a-a burial service for Mina, correct? And since she was not in fact laid in any one resting place…it's possible that anywhere in England could count as hallowed ground for her to rest in. It's all her native soil.”

Kate paused, looking at Arthur and then away before going on. 

 “And Jonathan…Jonathan's home was always wherever she was…That could explain how she and Jonathan have been able to seemingly move about unimpeded, without us getting any wind of a vampire's nest being set up anywhere near.” 

“Yes…that's a plausible explanation.” was his terse reply.

 Arthur knew he needed to be calmer, less brittle. He'd already broken down last night with Lu, when she'd offered her blood up to the boy. It had brought back far too many memories of similar, ultimately useless gestures done by himself and Art and Quincey's namesake. 

It seems he was destined to keep being reminded of the futility of all his grand gestures.

He wished he could just crawl into bed with Jack, Lu still small enough to tuck between the two of them and wake to find the last few months nothing but a terrible lingering dream.

While he was at it, he might as well wish to wake from the last 21 years.

But he didn't have the luxury of wallowing, none of them did.

“Is it possible that the Count, by dint of having fed on Mr. Harker so long and so singularly, could have had something of that connection transferred to him?”

Harrington asked, brows furrowed in concentration, no doubt thinking over his eclectic knowledge of the arcane, built up from the many old tomes they'd confiscated and stored away for safekeeping. 

“After all, we've seen from Edwards' case and what we read about that business in Styria  that a vampire can establish a psychic link with a victim if they share blood that can persist through time and space without the victim necessarily being turned by the exposure. But the link can draw the victim to the vampire, and the vampire to them”

“Couldn't we extrapolate out from that? The blood shared needn't necessarily be familial, it could, well, actually be shared.”

“Oh!” Alwyn jumped in, the light of discovery coming into her eyes at the prospect of a new puzzle to solve. 

“And the longer it's shared the stronger the psychic and physical link! Through the physical blood! So that the Harkers, being bound already, and Dracula, bound to them by sharing blood, and both concentrating on the same goal of reaching our young guest, have been, so to speak, drawing each other along? 

He wants to reach Quincey, he knows they'll follow if he does, and so uses their own determination to head him off to follow in their wake, as it were?

Because they can walk here, The Count can walk here, and because Quincey is already here--”

Jack interrupted this spiraling metaphysical explanation by tapping at the table to gain everyone's attention--and drawing it away from thoughts of Quincey, Arthur noted, unsure of his own feelings on that point.

Arthur hadn’t wanted to throw the boy to the Count, and he’d agreed, reluctantly, to let Lu…provide for him. Quincey had been nothing but polite and courteous since the day he’d walked into Arthur’s study— and in doing so dug up the most painful parts of his past to literally haunt him once more. 

He didn't see how trying to shield the boy from his role as lynchpin in this whole mess helped anything.

Except, perhaps, to spare the boy what little innocence they had not already shattered by revealing the truth of his existence to him. Jack had told him of the…conversation he and Quincey had after Arthur had given him the saved documents to read over.

He’d never wanted to drive the boy to those extremes.

 He just wanted his own family to be safe.

And now Jack had gone and declared Quincey part of it.

And Arthur didn’t know what to do. 

* There's certainly something there I think,* Jack was saying, each person seated having learned his signs by now *But it's something we'll need to look into more at a later date, I think the more pressing matter now is finding where they're all sleeping during the day*

“Well if they've all of England left open to them, that could be anywhere!” 

Edwards said with a shudder, lacing his fingers together tightly as if it would help keep his thoughts steady under the weight of free roaming vampires.

“It's a miracle they seem to have at least been kept out of the house proper, that protection doesn't seem to have been overcome by whatever psychical link or blood bond might be going on.”

“True, we'll need to be extra vigilant to ensure nothing could be possibly said to invite any unknown factors in.” Arthur said, going over the conversations he'd had and overheard between everyone last night, trying to assure himself nothing had been said then, in the heat of everything. 

None of the vampires had been able to enter the house physically. Even if they had apparently manifested themselves to both Quincey and Lu through dreams.

He clenched his fists at the thought of the vampire that had replaced Mina Harker rummaging around in his daughter's head, extracting promises that fed off Lu's far too big heart and could only ever lead her into greater danger.

But no, whatever else might be going on, the rule of Invitation still held, and at least did not seem to extend to relations in Quincey's case. His unwitting invitation did not grant his parents nor the  Count access to Arthur's physical threshold, if not his grounds.  

This mercy, at least, seemed to be granted to them.

Not that they didn't need to still worry about whatever “blood bonds” might be in play.

Dracula had entered Quincey's dreams, played mind games with him, and had eventually been able to draw him out to where he'd been vulnerable to the Count's physical attack via his mental ones. 

And Arthur knew it was only a matter of time before he tried again.

The devil was determined to drag the boy back to hell with him, whether it was due to some darker plans,  where he wished to use the boy's unique existence to further spread the Count's misery, or to further torment his parents, or simply out of spite for having his ‘property’ dare to disobey him--none of that mattered. 

Whatever Arthur felt personally about any of the Harkers, he wasn't about to let Count Dracula have anything he wanted ever again. 

“Our main objective should be finding the Count.” Alwyn said, echoing Arthur's own thoughts. He wondered if her sensitivity wasn't picking up his roiling feelings and tried once more to sink into aristocratic composure.

“If Mr. Harrington's theory is true, it's likely he and the Harkers are all in close proximity anyway, whether he likes it or not.” 

* What do you mean?*  Jack asked. 

“Well, If his ability to walk England freely is siphoned off them, well that blood bond will have been getting weaker by the day since Mr Harker senior…isn't available  anymore.”

“He may still be able to siphon from Mrs Harker, being bound by turning her, but either way he's caught in a leash that's winding tighter and tighter around a pole.” 

 “And besides, their wills and blood are all bound together, his reason being here is the whole reason they're here as well as. He's the reason that any of this--” She waved her hand about the table and out towards the estate in general, “--Even exists. If we can find him, finally end him once and for all…”

“We can finally have some peace. All of us.” Kate said softly. 

“But how do we track him?” Edwards asked, “We don't have any hard evidence for this link to the Harkers, just conjecture. You said before that Mrs. Harker used her link to track the Count, but even if we could find her first, I doubt anyone here wants to be making alliances with a vampire, even if they are temporarily aligned against a greater threat.”

“ No. ” Arthur said bluntly. “That most certainly won't be happening.” 

The group sat in silence, each lost in their own doubts and conjectures as to what they should do.

“...The boy could do it”, Harrington said finally, looking grim, but certain of his proposal.

“He's linked to his parents, by blood and bond. And last night he bit the Count, tasted some of his blood, or what passes for it. Everything you’ve told us and we’ve learned points to him being by far our best bet for tracking any of them down.”

Arthur saw Jack's face blanch, causing the bit of scar that peaked above his high collar and through his beard to stand out like it was still fresh, and he rapidly began to sign: 

* No . That's putting him directly in Dracula's sights. Besides, all else aside we can't possibly ask him to turn over his parents--*

“Dracula must be stopped .” Arthur said, and his tone instantly made each person sit up straighter. 

“I don't wish to put anyone in any undue danger but--”

“I'll do it.” 

Each head whirled around at the declaration, to see  Quincey Harker standing  framed in the doorway. 

The door they had locked before coming in, which none of them had even heard open. 

“Just how did you get in here??” Arthur asked, wondering what new vampiric power he was going to have to produce a counter for given this intrusion. 

Quincey for his part ducked his head sheepish and fished something out of his pocket, holding it up towards the group. 

“Lu slipped me the key this morning before she fell asleep and told me to go listen.” 

Of course. 

“Mr. Harker,” Edwards said slowly, speaking as if to a skittish hound, "Do you understand just what it is we're asking you to do? The danger it will bring on your head?”

Quincey's gaze dropped to the floor, and one of his hands moved to the wrist of the other, rubbing softly at clear skin that had only a few hours ago been mottled black and blue.

“I believe danger has already come to me sir, and to all of you because of me.”

“ I know you said you wouldn’t send me out as a scapegoat. But I-I wish to help. I couldn’t…I couldn’t call myself a good man if I didn’t do my own part to stop Fa…The Count. You’re right, Lord Godalming, he must be stopped, he deserves to be stopped.”

The boy stopped, swallowed hard, before continuing, hands clenching and unclenching.

 “He threatened Lu, he tried to hurt her and… he-he hurt Mama and Papa…he’s been hurting them for a very long time…” 

He raised his head and looked Arthur steadily in the eye, his own dark red ones alight with hardened determination. 

“I’ll help you to find him, so that you can stop him from hurting anyone else. But…”

“But?” Arthur echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“But…I would ask, that—that you don’t harm my parents.”

“…And if your parents try to harm any of us?”

Quincey looked as if he was about to object, to say that they never would do such a thing, but stopped, swallowed again, and said quietly, “You of course should be able to defend yourselves…but please, don’t hurt them if you possibly can.”

Arthur’s nails dug into the palms of his hands, memories of white snow awash with red blood threatening to rise up and undo the little calm he’d held onto this whole meeting. The faces of Jack and Dr Van Helsing and his own Quincey flashed across his mind, one by one. All the men this boy was named for, all the men his father had cut down like nothing.

Didn’t he owe the dead and damaged vengeance for what they’d lost? 

….Would vengeance bring any of it back?

 At last, he managed to grit out;

“I promise, that no harm will come to your parents, so long as they pose no harm to anyone else. That’s the best I can do. Does everyone agree?” 

There was a faint murmur of assent from the group, with a nod from Jack. Arthur nodded back, before turning once more to Quincey, and there was steel in his voice as he said;

“And you must promise me something in return, Harker.”

“Yes sir?”

“You say you love my daughter, you want to undertake this mission so that you can protect her?”

The boy blushed deeply, and Arthur had the bizarre realization he was blushing with Lu’s own blood, her gift to him coursing through his veins.

“Oh yes sir! I’d do anything for her.”

Arthur nodded, his blue eyes narrowing as he locked them on Quincey’s red ones.

“Then you promise me, that when it comes down to it, no matter what happens going forward, that you will do anything for her. You choose her , you understand? You do whatever it takes to keep her safe and whole and alive.”

He wanted to say: “If she’s so damn willing to walk into hell for you, it only seems right you live up to your family legacy and follow after her. If your father was willing to slaughter all the other people who he cared for to save the woman they’d failed to, the least you can do is the same. She must be the priority, no one else, no matter whom, no matter the bond. ‘ Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife and they shall be one flesh’ and all that.”

Of course, given the boy’s reaction to seeing a crucifix for the first time, Arthur doubted he’d ever so much as seen a Bible, let alone read one to recognize the verse. Remembering the crucifix, Arthur made a point to tell the young vampire to start wearing it. Heaven knows the boy could stand to have some extra protection going forward. They all could.

But back to the matter at hand.

“Do you understand what I mean when I say ‘you choose her’?”

Quincey’s face paled slightly, Lu’s blood rushing back to hide within his barely beating heart. But at last he whispered.

“Yes sir…I do…And I promise”

Arthur nodded, satisfied. The boy had never lied, Arthur wasn’t sure he even knew how.

“Good. Well you may as well go back and see if Lu’s awake and have her come in on all this properly. I’m sure she already told you to report back everything you heard anyway.”

A small smile crossed Quincey’s face, and from his other pocket, he pulled a small notebook and a bit of pencil.

“I took notes”

Of course he did. If there was anything else one could mark as an hereditary trait of the Harkers, they were wonderful for taking notes, no matter the circumstances. If they all managed to live through this, maybe Arthur would finally see about getting the boy his inheritance in the solicitors firm. It was probably time it moved on from being a front for the organization to getting used for actual real estate opportunities, with property taxes going up and all. 

���Alright then, go and get her. And then, we’ll get to work”

 

I have to give credit to @see-arcane on tumblr for the line “he’s been hurting them for a long time” as it came from their own divergent Blood of My Blood fic which ripped my heart out and can be found here

Also the people at Arthur's round table are all from actual ghost/spooky stories of the time!

Alwyne Hargreaves nee Sargent is from Allen Upward's "The Ghost Hunters" series

Ben Edwards is the hithertoo unnamed narrator or E. F. Benson's "The Room in the Tower"

Henry Harrington is a character from M.R. James' excellent "Casting the Runes"

(All of which I would highly recommed listening to for free at the links provided)

And Kate Reed was a cut character from the original Dracula novel, a friend of Mina and Lucy and Jonathan's from school.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Thanks for the tag @ashesandhackles!

Ten characters, ten fandoms, ten tags. I struggled with books as I read a LOT more nonfiction than fiction so I went with TV series.

1. Harry Potter - Nymphadora Tonks

2. Pride and Prejudice- Elizabeth Bennet

3. The Good Place - Eleanor Shellstrop

4. Arrested Development - Lucille Bluth

5. Derry Girls - Clare Devlin

6. Scrubs - John “JD” Dorian

7. Parks and Recreation- Leslie Knope

8. 30 Rock - Liz Lemon

9. Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt - Kimmy Schmidt

10. Stranger Things - Steve Harrington

Tagging @thecasualauthor18 @midnightstargazer @wisdomofwinter @nena-96 @leesielou @in-love-with-remus-lupin @messrmoonyy @crookshanksagentofowca @takearisk-ao3 @bikelock28

thanks for the tag @scattermeamongthestars

Ten fandoms, ten characters, ten tags:

1. Jane Austen - Elinor

2. Harry Potter - Snape

3. PJATO - Grover

4. LOTR - Gimli

5. Star Wars - Kenobi

6. Star Trek - Spock

7. Ghibli - Sophie

8. MST3K - Tom Servo

9. Marvel - Loki

10. Derry Girls - Colm

tagging @celta-diabolica and @ashesandhackles if you'd like to do it

[antiquatedsimmer]

Ship chart for Lucile and Josephine! ❤️

[fandoms-in-law]

Paperwork Reunion at Christmas

Summary: A month ago the Harrington's returned to their Hawkins home and found some paperwork that by all laws should be invalid and illegal signed by their son.

Yesterday they finally found where his address was saved so now, a week from Christmas, they're finally reaching out, realising how badly they treated their son.

Author's Note: Happy Christmas everyone. I have no clue why this was what happened when I wanted to write something christmassy but I like it.

/\/\

There were no lights on the house, nor visible on the tree in the window.

The glass icicles hung along the window had nothing to make them glow and there was only baubles and garland wrapped around the tree.

The angel sat atop the tree looked less picturesque and more alike a nurse than a heavenly being.

Mr and Mrs Harrington paused outside their sons home wondering if it was right to call in. They knew, or at least, knew now, that how they'd treated their son all those years ago was wrong and had missed a lot of a story they still didn't understand and probably couldn't without Steve sharing, but they'd expected the kid that had adored all the lights and decorations of Christmastime to have more up now he's established in his own home.

Mr Harrington looked into the box he'd pulled out of the car before realising how few decorations were on the house and decidedly made his way up the steps to knock on the front door, with his wife following just behind.

Whether it was right or wrong to make this trip at Christmas, the legal papers they'd found left in their sons room when returning to their house in Hawkins did need returning. The month it had taken to remember where Steve's address had been noted down was already too long for them to have kept it all since finding it.

“Which of the kids do you think it is, Eds? Make your bet now before I open the door.” Steve's teasing voice could be heard behind the door and Mrs Harrington shared a nervous smile with him while listening for the reply.

“Max and Lucas. Dustin can't get out here until next week.” The second voice was quieter and not one either of them recognised, but their focus was kept on the door now opening and their son's face falling into confusion at the sight of them instead of whichever kids he'd been expecting.

For a moment he was quiet, blinking as if trying to check they were real. “Mother, Father, um, hello?” Steve asked, glancing back into the house before clearly deciding that he'd prefer to invite them in whatever his reservations against doing so. “I wasn't expecting you but come in? Do you want anything to drink?”

“Which kid was it, Sweetheart?” The second voice was closer now, soon identified as belonging to a curly haired man leaning around the door.

Steve glanced at them again, now cautious as well as confused. “Hey Eddie, these are my parents, Richard and Lucille Harrington. Mother, Father, this is Eddie, by partner.” He introduced. “I was just going to get us some drinks.”

Lucille gasped a little, but moved forwards, holding her hand out towards Eddie. Richard would have done so first except he was trying to see if there was somewhere to place the box down. “Thank you for being here for Steve. I'm sorry we haven't met you sooner.” She said, ignoring the slightly stunned expression now replacing the confusion and caution in their expressions.

“Steve, before you get us drinks, perhaps I could put this box somewhere, preferably not difficult to reach.” Richard asked, glancing around, and sighing when Eddie immediately took it from him, disappearing back into the room he'd be in the doorway of.

“I've got it Stevie. Mr and Mrs Harrington, would you like to come into the sitting room while Steve sorts the drinks out?” Eddie called back, just as they noticed Steve coming back across the kitchen.

Lucille was already following Eddie, but Richard hung back, a questioning glance at Steve. “Need any help in there, even just to bring the drinks through?”

“I'm just making coffee for us all. I'll set a tray up. Unless you're going to get in an argument you can go and chat with Eddie.” He reassured, waving him through.

In the living room Eddie was already talking about the kids they'd mentioned. “Max is a spitfire and honesty I'd wonder how Lucas keeps up with her sometimes but Steve manages to match me so who am I to question love?”

“They sound lovely, but who's kids are they?” Lucille asked, looking over the framed pictures on the wall.

“We call them ours, because Steve's been looking after them all since he was dating Nancy way back. Mike's her little brother. Will's the brother of the guy she got with after Steve and the rest are all their other friends.” Eddie gestured to the photos but the reference to Nancy only reminded Richard again of the papers they were returning. He didn't bring it up and Eddie was still chatting away, “I tried to steal the boys away with the D&D club I ran in the school, well not really, but it was definitely a competition between us for a while. Dustin especially. Once that brat adopts you, it's too late.”

Steve laughed coming through the door, “Are you talking about Dustin, Eds? He'll love knowing that my parents have heard the most about him.”

“I think that goes to Max and Lucas currently. How have you been, Steve? It's been so long.” Richard asked, accepting the mug that was offered to him and turning to add milk from the jug included on the tray.

“Happy.” Steve simply replied, gesturing back to the wall of photos. “It was a lot of studying while working but I started teaching last year and it's so fulfilling. Teaching in a beautician school, not actual kids. I've had enough of herding kids for now.”

Lucille leant closer to the picture he'd pointed out, smiling at the graduation photo for the school. “Who's this?”

“Robin. She's my best friend, has been since we worked together at Scoops Ahoy.” Steve beamed at the question. “She lives next door as Nancy and Eddie wouldn't let us buy one big house for the four of us.”

“They're ridiculously co-dependant. We had to find some way to separate them. Honestly I'm not quite sure how Nancy managed it.” Eddie teased with a grin.

Richard laughed while Steve rolled his eyes, “You've built a family around yourself. I'm proud of you.”

“Thank you. It's a shame you haven't visited to hear about them before.” He agreed, “Which does make me ask what brings you here today?”

“We found that box last month. It seems like pretty important stuff you probably shouldn't have left behind when you moved, but also seems pretty illegal too.” Richard nodded, growing serious as he remembered what contracts were in there.

Steve frowned at that. “Illegal how?” He asked, moving to look through the box.

“Illegal as in you signed those papers without a lawyer present, without us present, when underage and given there seems to be a couple of drops of blood on some of the pages, signed while injured as well. All things that make those documents invalid in a court of law.” Richard listed off the things he'd realised while looking through their things. “Please tell me the kids Eddie was telling us about weren't made to sign anything similar, or at least had their parents informed and aware of what they were signing.”

“You're about to fight the government if I say they were, aren't you?” He explained, pausing in tugging the papers out to check what they were.

Lucille nodded, just as resolute as she moved to sit beside Richard. “Yes. I don't know what went down during your teenage years but they have a major lawsuit coming their way and whatever they gave you to get that signature should be tripled at minimum because of the laws they broke even as you followed their contracts.”

“If you're willing to introduce us to one or all of these kids and any of your other friends made to sign similar contracts it would make it easier to bring the case up. You mentioned still being in touch with Nancy and I've heard that she's made quite a name as an investigative journalist and would probably be fantastic for making waves with articles about this.” He continued.

Steve and Eddie shared a long look, before nodding slowly. “This is really interesting, but it's Christmas. Perhaps we could arrange a big get together for you to meet the party in January and discuss the legal action you want to take.”

“Of course, if you're willing to remain in touch with us.” Richard offered easily. “I know we need to apologise for all the times we left you alone and these years without any contact. This wouldn't even be the beginning of our apology.”

“You're right, but I guess, being late to get to know you is better than never.” Steve said, a private smile directed to Eddie that they didn't understand.

Richard smiled as well, hopeful that this meant they'd have that chance. “We did bring a few gifts. I'm sorry they might be a little generic, but I wasn't quite sure what you'd want or need. I can fetch them from the car if you want.”

“Please.” Steve said, looking a little stunned, “I – Eddie'll tell me off if I apologise for not having anything for you. It's a rule that we can't apologise for things we couldn't predict, but you are welcome to join us for Christmas dinner next week.”

“As long as you have space, we'd be delighted to.” Lucille agreed for them both while Richard stood to go and fetch the gifts.

/\/\

Christmas came easily and once again Richard and Lucille were parking outside their sons house, looking around in confusion. For all Steve and Eddie had mentioned a lot of kids as theirs they hadn't expected to find what amounted to a fleet of cars and vans parked outside.

"He made a family without us, Richard. Why weren't we there for him?" Lucille asked, already emotional and wondering if she could make up for the years.

Richard sighed heavily, unable to find a satisfactory answer now when in previous years he'd have simply answered that their law firm and clients were more important. Hard to believe that after discovering the papers. "Because we lost track of our priorities and forgot to include him in them. We'll make up for it. Help me get the gifts for his kids out."

That had been their first plan after leaving Steve's the other night; to get gifts for anyone they'd be meeting Christmas day, generally themed around the d&d game Eddie had mentioned playing with the kids. It didn't feel like enough but it hopefully showed they were ready to fit in rather than expect Steve to adjust for them.

"I knew I saw someone pull in. Come on Mr and Mrs Harrington, come and meet everyone!" Eddie called, leaning out the door and waving an arm to beckon them in.

"Rich strangers with presents. Are you sure they're safe to invite in?" A girl with fiery hair called as they entered, addressing Eddie.

"They're my parents." Steve countered, taking the bag from them. "And you didn't have to get anything else. The gifts you already brought were more than enough."

Richard shook his head. "We weren't going to come without something for everyone, most of these are for your kids if Eddie and you will peek in the bags to give them to the people who'll like them most?"

“Damn, you actually do want to make up with him and paid attention when you turned up last week. Wasn't sure I believed you'd even show.” A woman who appeared around Steve's age and draped herself over his shoulder said. Before Richard could try to identify her from his memories of the photos she carried on, “I'm Robin, platonic soulmate and the one who will murder you without a trace if you hurt him again.”

“We'll all do that, Robin, so you'll treat our Steve nicely now, won't you?” The curly hair was enough for them to be certain that this was Dustin, but being threatened multiple times about hurting their son definitely had the Harrington's reeling.

Lucille nodded, nervously but thankfully too. “Of course, we can't agree more and will accept it if you find the need. I can't say how grateful I am, we both are, that he found a family so worthy of him when we weren't.”

A girl with an intense stare sized them up, the rest of the group all watching her in silence as if waiting for her approval to be given so Richard and Lucille did too, trying to subtly glance at the photos they were now in view of to identify which of Steve's kids this might be. Near a tree that hadn't been put up the week before Steve and Eddie were ignoring the scene, and tugging Robin down with them to look through the gift bags they'd brought and separate them into the piles that had already been formed.

“You're being truthful.” The girl decided, nonchalantly reaching for a tissue as her nose began to bleed. “The breakdown once you got home last week was dramatic but your intentions are currently good. Encourage that in yourselves.”

Somehow everyone relaxed and tensed up again simultaneously, and Richard could only assume the challenge in their eyes was to do with her knowledge that she shouldn't have had. “I intend to. I know Steve's asked that we leave it until after the new year, but we're intending to raise a lawsuit against the government regarding the legal documents they had Steve, at least, sign as a minor without parental or legal advice. If you've, any of you, been made to do the same, we're quite enthusiastic to expand the lawsuit for all of you as well.”

“Which you can all think and talk about later. For now, I think Richard can put his hat and beard on and play Santa for us all.” Eddie called, clapping his hands and leaping up, tugging a Santa hat and beard from behind the sofa.

As confident as he sounded and looked there was something cautious in Eddie's gaze and Steve had a hand raised as if ready to retract the request until Richard laughed taking the accessories. “Ho ho ho. Let's begin.”

A few hours passed of gift giving, laughing and watching the family tease each other even if some of the jokes didn't make sense to Lucille and Richard. All of Steve's family did include them though, sometime explaining jokes they seemed confused by but mostly distracting them with other conversations.

Lucille did notice Steve occasionally disappearing from the room, only once with Eddie just before he called everyone to set the tables out. “Mom and Dad, get over here please.” He added on, after watching the kids all jump up and hurry out of the room with the gifts they'd received.

Richard and Lucille had both been given a notebook and bottle of their favourite drink each, the notebook filled with memories Steve or Eddie had written out as something they might like to know. They picked these up at the call, wondering if there was something to do with that that their son called them over for.

Before they could ask however Steve had a hand on one shoulder of each of them and was tugging them closer to the wall just as Dustin and Mike came hurrying back with a table top between them, legs folded in and only just noticeable. “It's not the biggest house so for meals like Christmas the kids are in charge of putting the table and chairs up after clearing everything else away.” Steve explained. “You can help me plate everything up to take through.

“Of course. This reminds me of the chaotic family Christmases I miss from childhood.” Richard laughed, following him through as more kids hurried around, bringing tablecloths, chairs and place mats.

It was a lovely day he could hardly believe Steve was allowing so soon after their first apology was made, but the Harrington's looked forwards hopefully to many more.

[leonardcohenofficial]

i watched 120 new-to-me films this year; here are the posters from a few of my favorites in no particular order!!

faults (riley stearns, 2014) out of the blue (dennis hopper, 1980) wake in fright (ted kotcheff, 1971) entergalactic (fletcher moules, 2022) histoires d'amérique: food, family and philosophy (chantal akerman, 1989) the woman king (gina prince-bythewood, 2022) waking life (richard linklater, 2001) on the count of three (jerrod carmichael, 2021)  thank you and good night (jan oxenberg, 1991)

i’ll tag @lesbiancolumbo / @draftdodgerag / @localpubliclibrary / @calicoskiesacoustic / @jerrylandis / @columbosunday / @harrierdoobie  / @sightofsea and anyone else who’d like to do this!! 🌟

entire watchlist from 2022 is below the cut:

the world to come (mona fastvold, 2020)

nancy (christina choe, 2018)

la bouche de jean-pierre (lucile hadžihalilović, 1996)

run (aneesh chaganty, 2020)

the mosquito coast (peter weir, 1986)

mass (fran kanz, 2021) 

a field in england (ben wheatley, 2014) 

angels wear white (vivian qu, 2017)

a cape cod christmas (john stimpson, 2021) 

shook (jennifer harrington, 2021)

outing riley (pete jones, 2004)

love & mercy (bill pohlad, 2014) 

small engine repair (john pollono, 2021) 

the fallout (megan park, 2021) 

clemency (chinonye chukwu, 2019)

red elvis (thomas latter, 2022) 

calendar girls (nigel cole, 2003) 

the little hours (jeff baena, 2017)

out of the blue (dennis hopper, 1980) 

aya of yop city (marguerite abouet and clement oubrerie, 2013) 

fresh (mimi cave, 2022)

jesus camp (rachel grady, 2006) 

bamboozled (spike lee, 2000)

master (mariama diallo, 2022)

the world of us (yoon ga-eun, 2016) 

jezebel (numa perrier, 2019)

the cat, the reverend and the slave (alain della negra and kaori kinoshita, 2009)

cohabitation (lauren barker, 2022)

the queen of versailles (lauren greenfield, 2012)

secret ceremony (joseph losey, 1968)

the northman (robert eggers, 2022)

the silent partner (daryl duke, 1978)

in secret (charlie stratton, 2013)

the ground beneath my feet (marie kreutzer, 2019)

the man who haunted himself (basil dearden, 1970)

woodlands dark and days bewitched: a history of folk horror (kier-la janisse, 2021)

the miseducation of cameron post (desiree akhavan, 2018)

roadrunner: a film about anthony bourdain (morgan neville, 2021) 

karen dalton: in my own time (richard peete and robert yapkowitz, 2020) 

fire music (tom surgal, 2018)

histoires d'amérique: food, family and philosophy (chantal akerman, 1989)

fruit of paradise (věra chytilová, 1969)

a different image (alile sharon larkin, 1982)

preparations to be together for an unknown period of time (lili horvát, 2020) 

candyman (nia dacosta, 2021)

fan girl (antoinette jadaone, 2020)

chicago 10 (brett morgen, 2007)

pray away (kristine stolakis, 2021)

mavis! (jessica edwards, 2015)

M (yolande zauberman, 2018)

wake in fright (ted kotcheff, 1971)

thomasine & bushrod (gordon parks, 1974)

desire me (released uncredited; jack conway, george cukor, mervyn le roy, and victor saville, 1947)

faults (riley stearns, 2014)

premature (rashaad ernesto green, 2019) 

mother joan of the angels (jerzy kawalerowicz, 1961) 

the loft (erik van looy, 2014)

the black phone (scott derrickson, 2022) 

no exit (damien power, 2022)

nope (jordan peele, 2022)

paprika (satoshi kon, 2006)

our eternal summer (émilie aussel, 2021)

playground (laura wandel, 2021) 

not okay (quinn shephard, 2022) 

everything everywhere all at once (daniel kwan and daniel scheinert, 2022)

pressure point (hubert cornfield, 1962)

sharp stick (lena dunham, 2022) 

on the count of three (jerrod carmichael, 2021) 

martha marcy may marlene (sean durkin, 2011)

waking life (richard linklater, 2001)

sicaro (denis villeneuve, 2015)

arrival (denis villeneuve, 2016)

this magnificent cake! (emma de swaef and marc james roels, 2018) 

chevalier (athina rachel tsangari, 2015)

young and wild (marialy rivas, 2012)

alice (krystin ver linden, 2022)

shame (steve mcqueen, 2011)

good madam (jenna cato bass, 2022) 

black bear (lawrence michael levine, 2020)

speak no evil (christian tafdrup, 2022)

wet sand (elene naveriani, 2021)

the catholic school (stefano mordini, 2021)

poly styrene: i am a cliché (celeste bell and paul sng, 2021)

the violators (helen walsh, 2015)

the woman king (gina prince-bythewood, 2022)

the killing kind (curtis harrington, 1973)

oleanna (david mamet, 1994)

entergalactic (fletcher moules, 2022)

the more the merrier (george stevens, 1943)

primrose path (gregory la cava, 1940)

watcher (chloe okuno, 2022)

enemy (dennis villenueve, 2013)

darlin' (pollyanna mcintosh, 2019)

sissy (kane senes and hannah barlow, 2022)

till (chinonye chukwu, 2022)

black panther: wakanda forever (ryan coogler, 2022)

the hunt (thomas vinterberg, 2012)

the other side of the underneath (jane arden, 1972)

barbarian (zach cregger, 2022) 

the intervention (clea duvall, 2016)

sorry to bother you (boots riley, 2018)

the silent twins (agnieszka smoczyńska, 2022)

tahara (olivia peace, 2020)

arranged (diane crespo and stefan schaefer, 2007)

swimming (luzie loose, 2018)

#like (sarah pirozek, 2019)

babysitter (monia chokri, 2022)

chico and rita (tono errando, fernando trueba, and javier mariscal, 2010)

pleasure (ninja thyberg, 2021)

john the violent (tonia marketaki, 1967)

fat girl (catherine breillat, 2001)

lemon (janicza bravo, 2017)

thank you and good night (jan oxenberg, 1991)

what about me (rachel amodeo, 1993)

the KKK boutique ain’t just rednecks (camille billops and james hatch, 1994)

sun don’t shine (amy seimetz, 2012)

zero fucks given (emmanuel marre and julie lecoustre, 2021)

piggy (carlota pereda, 2022)

ladyworld (amanda kramer, 2018)

wolf's hole (věra chytilová, 1987)

[insomniac-jay]

The Watchers | Rogues Gallery

Like their enemies the Batfam, the Watchers have their own rogues gallery. It's a running joke among them that none of the Batfam would survive the villains they have to deal with.

Without further ado, here are (some of) the rogues of the Watchers.

@floof-ghostie @calciumcryptid @jasontoddssuper @honeysgalaxy @moonage-gaydream @theautisticcentre @peachyblkdemonslayer

Lorelei Jackson | Black Butterfly

Lorelei was a superstar in the jewelry world thanks to her revolutionary lab grown gems. Having been bullied in the past for her permanent blindness in one eye, making a name for herself was important to Lorelei. However, trouble brewed when the lab producing her gems was shut down.

She didn't descend into villainy right away, though; instead trying to stay on the path of good by partnering with another lab. Things were fine until she was presented with a lawsuit for false advertising after it was found that the new gems were fake, forcing her to shut down her jewelry store in the process.

Lorelei broke into her new lab and discovered they were indeed producing fake diamonds made of plastic. Enraged, she destroyed the false gems and burned down the lab. After she settled her lawsuit, she sued the lab and left in search of a new market.

Depressed, Lorelei tried hard to find new ways to revive her jewelry store, but with no luck. Her criminal career started out with stealing things that her friends and others in her circle wouldn't really care about like expensive perfumes and other cosmetic items to small jewelry. But she quickly bored of this and longed for something greater.

That something greater came when she moved to Gotham, where she found fresh meat, and new things, to steal. Her first major heist caught the attention of the Watchers. While escaping, her Metagene awakened and a swarm of butterflies surrounded her pursuers, allowing her to get away.

Unlike other jewel thieves, Lorelei repurposes her stolen goods for her collections by replicating them.

Takashi | King Card & Lucille Imai | Lucky Lucy

King Card & Lucky Lucy are a husband and wife duo of high rollers and bosses of the Deal Devils organized crime syndicate. The couple control a significant amount of casinos in Gotham. They are business partners of both Penguin and Madame Nightshade.

King Card was born Takashi Imai, a Japanese immigrant from Atlantic City. As a child, Takashi never did well in school, instead preferring to spend time at the local pachinko parlors and watching people play. At some point during his high school years, he went into one and ended up winning. Takashi would come back to the parlor for his remaining years in Japan before immigrating to the United States.

Takashi ended up getting a job at a casino in Atlantic City. He took great joy in the job since American gambling was much more high strategy than pachinko. During his lunch breaks, he'd play with either his coworkers or others, often betting highly.

One day, one of the patrons noticed Takashi playing poker with some of his coworkers and invited him to play at his table, to which Takashi gladly accepted. Little did he know, this was a table full of billionaires. Sensing the high reward he'd earn if he won, Takashi made high bets and put his gambling skills to the test.

As for Lucky Lucy, she was born Lucille Harrington in South Carolina. Lucy was a daredevil with a love of danger and the wild side of things. As an adult, she left South Carolina and headed to Hollywood to work as a stuntwoman. She appeared in a few blockbuster movies, but her career was ultimately cut short because she was too much of an adrenaline junkie and often overdid her stunts.

Needing another source of income, Lucy turned to gambling. While it wasn't as physically exhilarating, she got a high from wagering large amounts of money; earning her a reputation as a high roller. Lucy won all her matches and was called "Lucky Lucy" as a result of her long win streak.

At some point, Takashi and Lucy ended up gambling against each other. Takashi enjoyed Lucy's confidence in both herself and her plays while Lucy took great pleasure in Takashi's strategy. Their match came to a draw, but both wanted more.

Neither of them are Metahumans, but it doesn't make them any less of threats. Especially Lucy since she used to be a stuntwoman.

Albert Quigley | Charon

Albert is the Scarecrow of the Watchers, only more terrifying and unpredictable. There's a lot of mysteries surrounding his past. Rumors range from a villain for hire that worshipped the Devil to a former professor of economics at Gotham University. A few things are certain for sure, though: he has a son named Newton, his name is Albert Quigley, and that he's not a Metahuman but not a human either.

Albert has quite a few abilities including the power to quite literally remove the soul from a person's body, emitting a thick black haze, and to disappear and reappear at will.

Edith Holloway | Starlet

A former child star, Edith's descent into villainy was a long time coming. Neither of her parents cared about her other when they weren't exploiting her and her talents, Jobs and gigs stopped coming in as she got older, and she found herself struggling with alcoholism. After an encounter with Masquerade, another enemy of the Watchers, she turned her talents into becoming a master conwoman and thief. During one heist, Edith discovered her Metahuman powers that she calls "movie magic", which allows her to create various special effects used in films.

Laurent Belisle | Masquerade

Laurent is one of their most formidable opponents. He has no agenda or grand ideology; his goal is to be the greatest showman the world has ever seen. Born to a poor but normal, the performing arts have always been Laurent's outlet to express himself--even if his performances are illegal. He started out as a street performer before being scouted by an acting troupe. While he had superb acting skills, him and his troupe were underpaid.

Donning a Venetian mask, Laurent and his troupe robbed their bosses and vanished into the night. They continued this with any theater that hired them and just about any place else that had money and other valuables while at the same time making it a spectacle.

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches And Wizards Job 29-30

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TWENTY NINE

"Hardison has the most dangerous entrance," Ford had explained to them all. "He goes in first. I want you all watching to make sure he gets in OK."

Lucille 2.O and the U-haul van were parked side by side on the visitor's lot of the apartment complex that abutted the back wall of the gracious Roughan manor grounds. Nate stayed with Lucille; Eliot and Dresden walked sedately away from the U-haul van along the street, nearly invisible in the dark except when a pair of headlights passed over them as a car came to, and occasionally went from, the party.

Ahead of them, down an elegantly curved driveway and up a stately set of steps with wrought iron railings, Hardison was offering his invitation to a very large woman in a well-fitted tux. "You'll not find it under my name. I'm the replacement for Bartholomew Harrington." His voice was low, pleasant, elegantly British as he offered a business card that read "Alexander Worthington the Third' and 'Christie's of London - Acquisitions.'

The woman examined both card and invitation. "Where's the other man?" she asked.

"Where his delicate sensibilities won't get in the way of keeping the Sokolov portrait from being lost," Mister Worthington (the Third), replied with the most pointed disapproval in his cultured voice, pushing up his glasses with fastidious precision. Mister Harrington was actually sleeping off a hefty dose of sedatives in his hotel room. "I'm sure there's someone you can call to confirm my credentials," he suggested politely.

The woman gestured for him to wait and took a step back, speaking into her own earbud.

A call was made.

Nate picked it up in Lucille, where Hardison had already rerouted most of the normal phones belonging to the security team. Overkill, but a necessity, since he had to be feet on the ground for the job. "Lawrence Billings." His British accent wasn't nearly as elegant, but the burr on it was on purpose. No one liked speaking for long to someone they could barely understand. He listened to what was asked of him. "Well, I'm not about to tell you what our man is there for, obviously. But yes, he's a trusted agent of our organization."

Mister Worthington (the Third) was waved on.

"Don't lie," Dresden had told them all. "Dance around the truth, give it halfway. Omit. Hide. But don't outright lie unless you know for sure you're talking to a human."

Eliot and Harry moved up the steps. The hitter could feel the wizard all but vibrating, so tense was he. "Harry, are you alright to do this?," he murmured.

"Not even a little bit," Harry admitted. He was gritting his teeth so hard a muscle along his cheek had started twitching and wouldn't stop. His eyes kept losing track of where they were and what they were doing.

The wizard was elsewhere, Eliot realized, and whatever he was seeing, it was his own personal hell. "Do you want to call it off?"

"No. I'll be fine once I start talking to people." The wizard stared at his feet. "Once I can focus on what's going on here."

Eliot stared a little longer at the man. He knew what it was like, when the dragons of your past rose up and waited for you in the present. "Alright," he said mildly. "You know, you may not have a lot of sense, but you're all heart, wizard."

Dresden lifted his bandaged hand and grinned humorlessly. "Dangerous thing to be."

"Worth it?"

The wizard chewed long and hard on the question. "Yeah. It was." They climbed up the stairs and three very large people in suits immediately blocked their path.

"I think they know who we are," Eliot commented mildly.

"I think they think they know who we are," Harry replied just as casually.

"You were not invited, wizard," the woman told him stonily.

"And yet here I am," Dresden replied cheerfully, offering an invitation. "Harry Dresden, Professional Wizard. And my, uh, my bodyguard. On behalf of the Lord of Weekend Deliveries."

The woman glowered at him, eyed the invitation with utmost jaundice, examined the both of them and the piece of vellum closely. "Get Letty," she told one of the men with her, who was only slightly shorter, and somewhat broader across the shoulders.

Letty, it turned out, was a twitchy little man with very short, clumpy red hair, dressed in the most ill-fitted attempt at a bouncer's suit. It looked like he'd been chewing at the sleeves, and he was missing one shoe. His socks were slowly rotating around his feet, too big to stay in place. He squinted blindly at Harry with mismatched eyes, one brown, one yellow, the one larger than the other. "Wizard," he rasped at the woman, scrabbling at her arm with plucking, long, bony fingers.

She shoved him, caught the back of his neck and held him in place. "Tell him again," she instructed Harry.

He gave her a deeply bored look, then stared at Letty until he looked down with a little whine. "Harry Dresden, Professional Wizard. On behalf of the Lord of Weekend Deliveries. And my bodyguard, Eliot Spencer."

Every bouncer there took a long step back.

"He speaks truth, fairy truth," Letty rasped.

The woman struggled to peel her eyes off Eliot. It took a solid effort, but she managed to face Harry once again. "You packing?"

"Yes. And I'm gonna continue packing unless you tell me you went in there and defanged Ying Ying and put thumb-knots on the Blackbird."

She scowled at him, but stepped back and out of his way with ill grace. "I'll be watching, wizard. Give me a ghost of a reason."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something," Harry declared jauntily. He was a study in contradictions, in elegant dress pants and fine black shoes, wearing a high-necked shirt stitched with rims of black feathers along the wrists and chest, and an elegantly embroidered black vest, all of it tucked under his battered leather duster. Eliot at least looked like he belonged, in a fine indigo tux, hair caught back in a half pony-tail. "And we're in," the hitter murmured as they both moved up to the door. "I thought you said we couldn't lie to them."

"You can't."

"Then who the hell's the Lord of Weekend Deliveries?"

An honest, sheepish little grin twitched at the corners of Harry's mouth. "The official title is Pizza-Lord. And I am."

A silver Rolls Royce purred up the driveway and to the bottom of the stairs. From the shotgun door, Nick managed to squeeze himself out. He had on a plain white suit and looked very put together, and generally amused at the universe in general and particular. From the opposite side of the car, Vanya Fedorov slipped out. The Russian enforcer was very much the dapper creature in darkest charcoal gray and deep green, his eyes ever watchful. He came around the car, opened the door, and offered a hand to his companion.

Ekaterina Yegorov took the offered hand and stepped out into the night.

Eliot heard Harry choke on a breath, and smiled. He had to, because for a moment he'd forgotten to breathe as well.

Miss Yegorov was a jewel, wrapped in frothy layers of seven different shades of indigo; the changes in hue were so subtle it was impossible to tell where they ended or began. The silk gown both hugged her body and hid it, promising everything and nothing, revealing all treasures and taking them all away with her merest motion. Her black hair cascaded down one side, pinned back on the other with an elegant clip done in platinum and black diamonds. The Rosalind diamond sat over her collarbones nestled on a double chain, the first loop tight around her neck, the other much longer. She carried a small black purse that probably fit one credit card and the hopes and dreams of most men and a few of the women watching her.

"Breathe, Harry," Eliot murmured.

"Yeah, that's me," the wizard mumbled.

Fedorov leaned close, whispered something, and Ekaterina laughed. They went up the stairs; the bouncers barely even checked the invitation, all smiles and bows, even after Fedorov pointed out his bodyguard was also coming with him. He even, all courtesy, pulled his jacket away to show the gun there in its underarm holster. He was troubled over none of it.

The trio didn't even look at Eliot or Harry as they swept by and into the manor.

"Sophie and Nick are in," Eliot murmured.

The little shard of the enchanted mirror pinning his tie in place carried the message to the shard Nate had on a platinum ear-clip.

"Here we go, then," the mastermind declared mildly. He checked on the bud tucked into the other ear. "Parker, you in place?"

Parker was sliding gracefully along a vertical stone shaft. "So this was for bringing food up and down?"

"Uh, a dumbwaiter, yes."

"Why'd they stop building houses with them?"

"Because of thieves."

"But they're so convenient!"

Nate, who knew to a nicety the humongous extra fee that a house incurred in insurance premiums when it had a working dumbwaiter, could only reply, "Yes, for thieves. Have you found the portrait yet?"

"Not yet." Parker looked at her wrist. She had a toy compass attached to it, the sort you could find in a cereal box, or buy for fifty cents. The needle on it danced uncertainly between two very specific points. "I think there's one of those tracking foil things on it. I'm not close enough for Harry's compass to beat it completely."

"Alright. Parker can't find the portrait," he relayed, "so it's up to you guys, then."

"Oh, this is something else," Sophie's voice murmured into the linked mirror shards. Her own were tiny, secured to the hair clip among the black diamonds, and to the decorative clasp on the chain holding the Rosalind diamond.

"What, what is it?"

Eliot, who'd just stepped into the main hall of the manor with Harry, gritted his teeth. "It's a Mona Lisa," he growled low. "I count three portraits in this room alone."

"There's two in this one," Sophie added, turning slightly, her arm tucked around Vanya's. They'd made it all the way to a dining room, where a slim buffet and a vast bar were set up. Nick made a little plaintive sound, and a smile ghosted over the Russian enforcer's features before he nodded minutely. His so-called bodyguard immediately made a beeline for the food.

"One more upstairs," Hardison informed them.

"There's duplicates of everything, even the ugly flute thing, there's three of those in this room alone," Sophie protested.

"It's a test," Harry murmured. "By magic or skill, the buyer's going to have to be able to tell the real one from the copies. It's not the seller's fault if they can't."

"Dresden," Nate asked. "Were the copies made by magic?"

Harry hesitated with a startled look. Yet again, Nate had caught him by surprise in throwing the word out so readily. He rallied, walking up to one of the items in display at the room, a flute carved out of a long, blackened bone larger than a femur, but thinner. He ran a hand over it, not quite touching, murmuring under his breath.

A little breeze made the flute hum mournfully, barely audible.

"No. Unless I found the one real one among all the copies, they're real, inasmuch as they can be. Magic won't tell you which ones are fake."

"Please don't touch the cursed artifacts," a woman's voice said from behind Eliot and Harry with a touch of dark humor and a very slight accent. "No one here needs another mad wizard situation."

Harry threw the hitter a warning look, and they both turned slowly.

Ying Ying Amarin was a beautiful, fragile-seeming creature, with a mantle of black hair and skin so fair it could have passed for eggshell porcelain. Her eyes were almond-shaped and the sweetest chocolate brown, and her mouth was a delicate pink blossom. She was wearing a very elegant black dress and a long string of blood-red pearls with matching earrings. "Wizard Dresden," she greeted, her voice pleasant. "Much is said of you among the circles I frequent."

"Miss Amarin. All of it bad, I'm sure."

She gave him a half-smile. "Most of it. Tell me, how does a wizard secure the services of Eliot Spencer as a bodyguard? I understood you barely keep the lights on in your home."

"Even the most careful man can end up owing favors where he doesn't want to," Eliot said mildly, belying the sudden, inexplicable and altogether terrifying hunger that had slammed into him at the sight of the woman.

"The flute, is it yours?" Harry asked.

"Interesting. The flute? No. We are not selling, merely buying. There is a Bag of Winds somewhere around here that my Hong Kong associates would like me to acquire for them. I hope we will not be competitors?"

Harry shook his head readily. "I'm only interested in one thing, so far."

The wizard didn't notice, but the hitter did. Ying Ying's shoulders shifted minutely, the corners of her mouth eased. She blinked twice. She smiled.

She'd been worried. About Harry.

"That's good to know." Then her attention came to rest fully on Eliot. He felt her power slam into him like an avalanche, calling out to the most primal parts of him in a scream that begged to be answered. It roared hunger, for food, for blood, for flesh, for breath, for anything and everything. "Perhaps later mister Spencer will tell me all about this… favor?"

The hitter tucked a hand into his jacket and closed it around one of the pins in it. The metal went immediately soft, blisteringly hot. "Perhaps," he replied, smiling automatically. He saw smug triumph and a hint of appreciation on those pink, perfect lips and walked away powered strictly by pain and self-control, Harry by his side.

"Shake it off," the wizard told him once they were far enough away. "Breathe. You did fine. It's gonna linger, but you did fine."

"That is some kind of…" Eliot didn't even have the words. "She's a vampire?!"

"Yes, of a sort. Not all of them feed on blood. She's Jade Court, so I have no idea what she actually eats."

The hitter brought out the misshapen pin. "We only have so many between Hardison and me, Harry."

"Why do you think I'm staying up here, away from everyone?" the hacker pointed out. His listening shard was hiding on the leg of his glasses. The speaking shard was pinned to his ascot.

"Vanya's uncle's here," Sophie suddenly said, and everyone quieted.

"Vanya!" Fedorov's uncle rushed up to him. He was dressed just as sharply as his nephew, and he looked vaguely flustered. He took one look at Ekaterina and he ended up completely flustered, mouth working emptily for a long moment before he switched to Russian altogether. "I didn't think you were coming."

"Your advice has never steered me wrong," the Russian mobster said. "If you believe meeting these people is important -"

"No, you don't understand, Vanya!" His uncle interrupted him urgently. "I didn't think you were coming at all, someone had to represent the family's interests -"

"Yes. You, then?"

"No. Me." A man, taller and leaner than Mikhail Sagorov but carved along much the same hard, unforgiving lines, stepped around Fedorov's uncle and spoke in English.

Ekaterina felt the man next to her go rigid, the fingers of his free hand twitching. "Father."

"Vanya."

All six members of the team immediately focused on that one discordant exchange.

Fedorov, who apparently was as shaken as everyone else, turned to automatic courtesy. "Allow me to introduce miss Ekaterina Yegorov," he said, freeing his arm from her grip and sliding his hand to hers. "An art expert, among many other things. My father, Ivan Sagorov."

Ekaterina smiled. A shard of light caught the diamond she wore as she stepped forward. Both older men stepped instinctively back, but she merely offered her hand. "It is always a pleasure to meet men who know not just how to build their power, but to hang onto it."

Ivan Sagorov looked at her with infinite wariness. He eventually relented to take her hand in his, but rather than shake it, he kissed her fingers lightly. "One finds the definition of power very subjective in this place and among these people. Miss Yegorov flatters me."

Ekaterina chuckled richly. "I do not. Perhaps there are many here that discount the power mortals have. I am not one."

Ivan grinned minutely at that, but then turned a hard look on his brother, and an even stonier glare on his son. "I did not realize I was my brother's second choice of representative at this gathering."

"You should have guessed," Mikhail replied tersely. "We both know what you think of these sort of people."

"I think they are no one's future, least of all ours." He shot Ekaterina a brief, apologetic glance. "No offense meant."

"None taken," she replied graciously.

"But it is good to know what the heir apparent believes," he added with icy sarcasm and bitter, controlled fury, "of such alliances."

A muscle showed along the line of Vanya's neck. "A wise leader considers all the tools at his disposal."

"Don't shoot my words back at me like you ever cared about them," Ivan snarled quietly in Russian. "No one here's a tool unless it's you."

Fedorov surged forward. Ekaterina caught his arm. "Vanya."

"Do you know what they are? What your uncle brings you in the guise of a gift?" The leader of the Eastern Seaboard Russian mafia stepped forward until he could just hiss at his head enforcer. "They're a noose around our neck. If it weren't because I know they'd take us all down with you, I'd wish them the joy of you."

"The sort of man who'd give his own son to the wolves is not the man I'd trust to have anyone's best interests at heart except his own," Vanya gritted out. "In the end greed always wins out with him."

The conversation might have escalated to parts both bloody and violent, but another voice joined the conversation. "Please, please!" The avuncular, condescending tone was full of cheer. "Why such long faces, this is a party, please. Drinks! Food! Bring some of those delightful little toast things for my friends here. Mikhail, please, introduce me, shan't you?"

"I find I am not hungry," Ivan ground out, stepping back. "I thank you for your hospitality, Koshan, but I think my mood and my patience are worn too thin for companionship."

Koschei gestured grandly with his glass, the brandy in it darkest gold, and stepped back, clearing the way. "Please. It was a pleasure to see you even this brief while, Ivan Sagorov Barevich. Do give my regards to Minke, won't you?"

The elder Sagorov lowered his head like a bull considering a charge, his expression gone black and implacable at those seemingly harmless words. He finally breathed out slowly through his teeth and stalked away.

THIRTY

"Goodness, what a temper," Koschei commented casually. He was wearing much the same outfit he'd worn for his portrait: fine, blousy riding pants tucked into pointed embroidered boots, the complex designs worn in silver. He wore a black shirt with the neckline decorated with tiny emerald chips, a silver sash and a long, heavy coat stitched with black ravens and white wolves. "That man needs a therapist," he said the last word in English, jarring among the fluent Russian.

"My father needs many things," Vanya noted calmly, switching seamlessly to the new language. "He cares to acquire none of them."

Koschei whipped around. "Ah, you must be Vanya. Your uncle has spoken glowingly of you." He offered his hand.

Fedorov managed a smile, just barely, and shook the offered hand. "The gentleman has me at a disadvantage."

"Koschei. Immortal, wizard, your humblest servant." The man bowed. When Vanya merely cocked a brow at him in disbelief, Koschei laughed. "Is it so hard to believe, considering those all around us? Or the company you are currently keeping?" He gave Ekaterina a pointed look, one black brow going up.

Ekaterina's smile was even thinner than Vanya's when she offered her hand. "Ekaterina," she said simply.

Everyone within sight of her held their breaths.

Koschei took that hand and lingered over the kiss. The diamond glittered. Ekaterina took her hand back, since the wizard seemed rudely unwilling to let go.

"Enchanting," he purred. "It's not often my curiosity is piqued."

"Ekaterina is here to help with our exchange. That is, if my bid is amenable," Vanya wrapped a possessive arm around Ekaterina's waist.

Koschei's smile grew. "Of course. That is only sensible. As for your offer, mm, well, it buys you the same as it does for everyone here. A chance to pick up one of the portraits. Whether it is the real one or not, I suppose only an expert could tell."

Upstairs, Hardison put a hand over his ascot pin. "Nate, I do not like this. We don't know how long he's had to make the copies. For all we know he got Sokolov himself to make them."

Back in Lucille 2.0, Nate winced. The earbuds were holding - at least the ones not close to Dresden. But Hardison was surrounded by just enough magic that there was some unpleasant feedback whistling through his line. If not for the shards of the enchanted mirror, more than half the team would have been flying blind. "It's Sophie's call and Sophie's show. Keep an eye on her."

Ekaterina glanced around her diffidently. "Well, we'd have to find the room with the real one first, I suppose," she pointed out archly.

Koschei laughed in delight. "Just so. Are you, ah, permanently attached to Vanya's office, Ekaterina?"

"My services are his tonight," she replied delicately. "They happen to include my company… and my protection."

The wizard examined her closely, but she knew better than to look into those poison-green eyes. "Just so. Very important, to be protected when purchasing such powerful artifacts from such powerful people. But perhaps I could borrow him for a little while to introduce him to a few friends of mine? They would be delighted to make his acquaintance, to watch him rise in power and esteem. That is, after all, what every man desires, no?"

"My desires and my goals are two very different things," the Russian replied mildly. "Unlike most men, I have no problem keeping them separate."

"As one should!" Koschei agreed enthusiastically, then gestured to the room at large. "May I?"

"Kate, see if you can find the real portrait. She has, of course, freedom to roam the premises?" Fedorov asked.

"Of course. The bidders and their agents may go wherever there are more copies to be examined."

Ekaterina smiled.

"Good. Nick!" The bodyguard left the buffet table and sedately made his way over, still looking like the world was a grand joke for him to enjoy. "You're with me."

Nick smiled broadly. It was deeply, deeply unsettling, and wholly aimed at Koschei, but the wizard rallied swiftly and led Vanya away.

"There goes a brave man," Ekaterina murmured.

"I did not realize he already had friends among you people," Mikhail said. "I would not have risked this invitation if I did."

"Do you not want him to make alliances here?" She asked, arching a brow up.

Mikhail was already walking away, visibly struggling with himself.

"Nate," Sophie murmured. "This isn't right. This isn't just an auction of magical artifacts. Sagorov knows something."

"Eliot."

The hitter threw the wizard a questioning glance. Harry nodded. "I'm fine, go."

"Um, Nate?" Parker said into the earbud line.

"Yes, Parker, did you find something?"

"Yes." Parker had found the space between the walls where the old pipes had run, and she'd wormed her way even further into the house, until she was flush with the floor of a large, lavish and very modern bedroom, looking out through an HVAC vent. "I found the old lady."

"You found Grandmother?" That carried to both lines of communication, since Nate was connected to both.

"Yes. And there's a bunch of those rabbit-people watching her." Parker shifted to get a better look past the grate. "They've got guns."

"Armed leshy?" Hardison, also privy to both sides of the conversation, frowned. "Why would they need weapons, so far the only ones to use them have been the humans with them."

"It would make no sense anyway," Harry pointed out, quickly piecing together what bits of the situation he was hearing. "Leshy are thugs. They are nowhere near her power level, she should be able to waltz right past them, guns or not."

"Probably. Unless hearts aren't the only thing you can cut out of people." Nate was thinking very fast, the gleaming fractal trees in his mind coming together faster and faster, facts and suspicions, knowledge old and new, weaving together into a cohesive whole -

"You'd be surprised how many things out there think we're just convenient little walking snacks."

Then there was the night the alkonost had shown up -

"There was a trap in the heart, a means for him to steal her power, if she had agreed."

- and the morning of Dresden's arrival -

"He cut out his own heart and hid it - he hid it so well that no one can find it, not even death."

It all came together with the memory of the Russian enforcer at the loft, comfortably slouched on a couch they'd purchased just so everyone could sit comfortably while they spoke to the wizard, holding onto an oddly shaped, oddly carved wooden cup, drinking vodka and telling them all ancient Russian fairy-tales - not the modern, sanitized versions but the old kind, full of blood and casual violence, where victory was measured by how badly your enemies died.

"Sophie, is Koschei gone?"

"He's introducing Fedorov around. You'd think he was the star of this show."

"Dresden?"

"I'm fine. I think no one wants to be seen with me."

"Eliot?"

Eliot had trailed Sagorov to a small sunroom. "He's on the phone yelling at someone." The hitter kept back, to the shadows just outside the solarium's door, and stiffened when he realized what he was hearing. "It's him. This isn't just an auction of artifacts, Sagorov's selling Fedorov to settle a debt of some sort. Nate, he's selling future control of the entire Eastern Seaboard chapter to one of these things!"

"Of course he is," the mastermind whispered, another section of the puzzle coming together at last. "Sophie, are Nick and Fedorov still with Koschei?"

"Yes," Sophie confirmed as Ekaterina examined idly some of the items displayed, aloof and graceful, speaking occasionally to those she found nearby. "He's just been introduced to the toad-person."

"Dresden, where are you?"

"At the bar, like you told me to be?"

"Nate." Eliot's voice sounded exceedingly tense. "Problem."

"What is it?"

Faced with two incoming bouncers, the hitter had detoured into what seemed to be a combination conservatory and library, a room of dark, rich, velvety tones. It was closed to the general public, and the only artwork present seemed to be reassuringly normal. There were no lights, which made the door off to one side, past the shelves, painfully obvious. And one quick peek had Eliot trying not to swear at the fact that, magic or not, everything was still conspiring to throw the job off the rails. "I found another Grandmother."

The team reeled to a halt, wherever they were. Back in Lucille, Nate pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. "Of course you did."

"Um." Hardison sounded deeply hesitant. "Not to rain on anyone's parade, but I just found another Grandmother upstairs." The hacker was peeking around a corner and down a long hallway into a private office. He could just glimpse the old woman past the two armed guards at the door, left open to allow a young woman in the severe uniform of the staff to bring in a tray of tea.

"What? No! I found her, she's right here!" Parker, able to hear that bit through the earbuds, protested in an irate hiss.

Sophie paused. "Nate," she breathed as she realized what was happening.

"Yup." The mastermind sighed. "She's part of the auction, too."

"Now what, Nate?" Eliot demanded. "How can we get her out if we can't find the real one?"

"Nothing has changed." Nate clipped out. "Sophie, find the original portrait. Dresden, is there any way to tell which is the real Grandmother?"

"Uh, um…" The wizard rubbed his forehead. "Her shadow. Look at her shadow."

"Parker, check her shadow," Nate relayed.

She wriggled behind the vent. "It's an old lady shadow."

"Then that's not her," Harry replied when Nate repeated that.

"Hardison? Eliot?"

"Normal, uh, old lady shadow here," the hitter reported hesitantly.

"I'm not close enough to see," Hardison warned them. "Do you want me to risk it, Nate?"

"Not yet. Dresden, go pick a fight with Sophie."

"Wh- Me? I thought you wanted me to keep a low profile as long as I could!"

"Hold that thought," Sophie breathed. Ekaterina, having wandered further away, into an elegant breakfast solarium, could feel a gaze burning a hole between her shoulderblades.

"Spider silk, right?" A rough voice asked behind her.

Ekaterina turned. "Isvinee?"

There were two men and one woman behind her. All of them were short and wiry, and they all wore matching gray suits with red ties. Their hair was cut razor-short, the scalp showing pink through for the youngest of the two men, who was very blond. The older man, flanked by the other too, was slouching easily, hands in his pockets. "The duds," he said. "Spider silk, innit?"

"Oh, trial by fire of the Veil," Harry whispered so the words were barely audible; the shards, while serving the same purpose as the earbuds, were nowhere near as quiet. "Conversation's about to get crude, Sophie, this isn't an insult, it's how it translates for them."

"It is, yes." Ekaterina replied simply.

"Well, you look fuckin' gorgeous, gal. Even if it ain't yours." He tapped two clawed fingers to his mouth and blew her a kiss.

Ekaterina smiled. "Spaseeba. Thank you. You would not believe what it cost, and you are the first to say anything, nearly an hour after I come through the door."

"No shit?" The man frowned. "Now there's a fuckin' crime." He looked at both his colleagues, who nodded stoutly. He was perhaps in his late thirties, with sharp gray eyes under heavy brows, stubble on his angular cheekbones, and uneven teeth. He smelled strongly of expensive, pine-based soap, and managed to look both profoundly at ease with his surroundings and incredibly uncomfortable in his clothing. He offered his hand after a moment's thought. "I'm Classy."

Ekaterina took and shook it without hesitation. "An unexpected pleasure to meet you and your companions," she purred. "You can call me Ekaterina, or Kate. I hope we are not to be competitors?"

Classy looked utterly surprised at her casual friendliness. His grip was dry, warm and strong, matching Ekaterina's but mindful not to overpower or hurt her. His nails were short, sharp, curving gray claws and he was very careful not to hurt her, his palms heavily calloused. "Oh, no, no. We're sellin' most of this crap, gal. You, uh, buyin' anything?" He reached for his pocket, but the woman elbowed him mildly and he sighed in exasperation.

Ekaterina gestured to one of the vast glass doors leading to the grounds outside, and began to walk. "My employer is only interested in one item."

"Yeah, everyone's here for that fuckin' painting." As soon as they stepped outside the man lit up a cigarette. "Had to jump through the Blackbird's fuckin' hoops, when this was our to-do first."

"Well, that is, uh, what is the word. Bullcrap."

"Innit?" Classy looked terribly pleased at her empathy. "We don't give a shite over all this, the copies, right?" He waved his hand vaguely at the house. "Who the hell cares. Buy the thing, get out. Eh." He sighed. "Bloody won't give our rightful property back, either."

"I am sorry, did I hear right," Ekaterina put a light hand on Classy's shoulder. "Did the Blackbird steal from you?"

"Not yet he ain't. And he won't if he knows what's fuckin' good for him," Classy declared. He'd started minutely at the touch, but he didn't look insulted or wary, merely pleased. "Look, gal. Between you and me?" He leaned close. "The portrait's not here."

"It is not?"

"Nah." He threw the butt of his cigarette down and crushed it underfoot. "He don't trust nobody. I wouldn't, neither." Wordlessly he moved to stand by her side and dipped his head toward the sound of the surf and the elegant boat-house a stone's throw from the mansion itself. "He'll be bringin' it in at some point, I suppose." He gave her a wicked grin. "'less someone calls 'im out on it."

She grinned back at him and bumped him lightly. "Excuse me," she purred, walking back into the house.

"Nice gal," the woman said as all three watched her go.

"She was," Classy agreed. "So nice. Didn't expect that."

"What is she?" the young man asked.

"I dunno," Classy admitted readily. "Smells scary, though. Let's go find our fuckin' property."

Sophie stalked through the breakfast solarium. "Nate, did you get that?"

"I did. Did everyone else?"

"I didn't!" Parker hissed; Sophie couldn't have an earbud active while carrying the diamond.

"The portrait's not in the house," the mastermind summed up. "It's out in the boat-house."

"Oh." The thief paused. "I'll go get it, then."

"No. No, Parker, n-" Nate sighed. "We need the portrait to disappear in front of everyone. For that, it has to be in the house."

"Well, why can't we put one of the fake portraits in place of the real portrait and then have the man in black bring in a fake portrait instead, wouldn't that be even more embarrassing?"

The most profound silence welcomed that impatient question.

"Dresden."

"Yeah?"

"Go pick that fight."

"Ah, Hell's Bells," the wizard sighed resignedly.

[andieinchains]

An introduction to- my Stranger Things DR

July 1st, 1986. (5 months before the vanishing of Will Byers)

Welcome to hell hawkins, indiana. where your children go missing and your parents are ignorant to the dangers that lurk beneath their feet. it’s just another presumed hot, late 80’s summer, before your world is going to be turned uʍop ǝpᴉsdn.

do you accept the risk?

Hi my loves<3 As you can see above, my timeline for this DR is slightly skewed to fit the vibe that I wanted. I’ve always been a fan of the music and the style in the early 90’s but still have a big love for the 80’s, so I felt it fitting to change the dates a smidge.

Most people have been aged up and some people from my CR have been added! as I’m 21 and don’t like the idea of aging myself down. Here’s everyone’s birthday(as of July 1st 1986)

Andie Lindsey Hopper(me): May 30th, 1965 ♊︎ (21)

Robin Jeanie Buckley: February 17th, 1965 ♒︎ (21)

Chrissy Lucille Cunningham: March 5th, 1967 ♓︎(19)

Nancy Vivian Wheeler: January 8th, 1966 ♑︎ (20)

Edward Waylon Munson: Born November 28th, 1963 ♐︎ (22)

Stephen Richard Harrington: Born September 16th, 1964 ♍︎ (21)

Jonathan Lonnie Byers: July 3rd, 1965 ♋︎ (20)

William Jackson Hargrove: March 29th, 1964 ♈︎ (22)

—

Lucas Charles Sinclair: October 6th, 1970 ♎︎ (15)

Maxine Susanne Mayfield: April 6th, 1971 ♈︎ (15)

William Jacoby Byers: March 21st, 1971 ♈︎ (15)

Dustin Merritt Henderson: May 29th, 1971 ♊︎ (15)

Michael Ted Wheeler: February 9th, 1971 ♒︎ (15)

Elle Jayne Hopper: October 24th, 1971 ♏︎ (14)

Erica Sue Sinclair: July 27th, 1974 ♌︎ (12)