#The Hellfire Trading Company

[illyanarasputinfan]

In your opinion, who is the funniest member of the X-Men?

Emma Frost consistently makes me laugh with her acerbic wit. Her candor is very refreshing.

[marveltournaments]

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 10

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: It’s no longer Halloween, but the ghosts from yours and Eddie’s pasts are coming back to haunt you.

5.7 Words

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You had always heard the phrase “speak of the Devil and he shall appear”, but you didn’t think that line was supposed to be so literal.

You and Eddie starred in shock as your shared connection stood in front of the two of you, smiling at Eddie as if he were an old friend. If Chris noticed any animosity in your faces, it didn’t show. Either he was oblivious, or you and Eddie were good at hiding what you two were feeling right now. 

“I thought I saw you in the lobby earlier.” Chris said, walking over to the two of you, ruining your moment together. “I didn’t think you were one for the theater since you never did come and see the Spring play that I worked so hard on.”

Eddie looked weirded out by this, to say the least. 

“Sorry, I was busy trying to finish the campaign that you started.” Eddie said. “I didn’t exactly have time to go.” 

Well, you were really in the middle of this now. You shifted slightly closer to Eddie, looking over Chris. He was almost unrecognizable from his school photos and how you remembered him on that day. No longer the pale and scrawny kid with the constantly pissy face, Chris was actually smiling and it was honestly off-putting. He looked more tan than he had in school, but there was a faint orange tint to his skin that looked unnatural under the yellow lighting of the marquis. 

A fake tan. That’s what it had to be. Chris was sporting a fake tan for his role as Rocky. 

You should have been Riff Raff. Or not here at all. You thought to yourself. 

“Are you still mad that I left Hellfire?” Chris asked. “That was four years ago! Plus, I handed everything over to you, didn’t I? You got to finally be the Dungeon Master, and I got to find something I enjoyed. I think it’s a fair trade.” 

Eddie still didn’t seem impressed, but kept his mouth shut. Chris turned his attention to you. 

“I’ve seen you before.” he said. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”

You blinked in surprise. There’s no way you would have missed him if he came to this show a lot, right? 

“Yeah, how did you know?” you asked slowly. 

“I’ve been running tech for the show since March.” Chris had a smug look on his face that made your stomach churn. If he was working backstage, that would make sense why you hadn’t seen him before. “And I got to be Rocky for this run. What did you all think of the show?”

“The movie was fun.” Eddie offered, and you had the feeling that he was trying to decide if he should be honest or to let go of what happened four years ago. 

You, however, were more willing to be honest in the moment. “I’ve seen better performances.” you said bluntly. “The movie was fine, but I expected more for the Halloween showing. Half of the shadow cast was completely different than before and they didn’t seem to know their cues. Also, what happened to the Virgin Sacrifice?”

Instead of being off-put, Chris just laughed and shrugged. “There’s been some recent changes to the theater management.” he explained. “It caused a bit of a commotion and there were some disagreements. Unfortunately, things like this happen in live theater. A lot of the cast bailed on the show at the last minute.”

That made sense, as much as it disappointed you. If there was an internal problem with the company running the show, it would end up bleeding out into the performance. You felt your annoyance calm down a little. It’s not like Chis was the one to run the show into the ground. 

“Well, It’s been nice seeing you again.” Eddie said, as his hand slipped into yours again, “We have to get going, it’s getting late.”

You gave Chris a half-hearted wave and a goodbye, but then Chris started talking again right as you two were turning around to leave.

“Just so you know, auditions will be opening for the shadow cast.” He said. “We’re skipping the next two months to get the show back on track. In case either of you are interested.”

You froze in place for a moment and Eddie noticed and dropped your hand. You turned around to look at Chris, wondering if he was being serious right now. 

“Auditions are never open. Even for the understudies.” you said. “I heard that you needed to know someone on the inside to even have a chance at auditioning.”

“Well, we know each other now, don’t we?” he asked with a smile that had too many teeth for your comfort. “I can get you an audition, if you’re really interested. I think you’d be great on stage.” Chris was looking at you up and down, as if considering you. “I can see you as a great Janet.”

“I’ve always wanted to audition.” you finally admitted. “I’ve been wanting to be a part of this show since I started coming here.”

Chris dug into his bag and pulled out a card for the theater, and scribbled down a date and time on the back. “This is when we’re holding auditions. It’s invite only.” he said. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you’re serious.” 

You took the card, looking it over. Maybe you and Eddie had been a little hard on the guy. Chris was right, it had been a long time since he was in high school, and people change. You changed. It’d be pretty hypocritical of you to brush this off completely. Everyone here was an adult, right? And this was something you’d wanted for years now. Could you really just pass this up?

“I’ll be there.” you said, without thinking, and when Chris offered his hand, you reached out and shook it. “Thank you.” you added. 

Chris winked at you and said goodbye to Eddie and turned to leave, leaving you and your date alone outside the theater. By now, almost all of the movie-goers had left and the parking lot was nearly empty save for a few cars. 

“Holy shit.” you said, turning to Eddie when Chris was out of earshot. “I did not expect to run into him tonight. Or ever again.”

Eddie let out a small sharp breath that could have either been a laugh or a sigh. “I thought he just disappeared off the face of the earth when he graduated.” His eyes drifted to the card you held in your hand; the same hand that he had been holding on and off all night. “His hair grew out a lot.”

“Yeah, I think it’s even longer than yours now.” You agreed, tucking away the card into your own bag and turning to fully face him again now.

The mood between you two had shifted from what it had been before Chris interrupted the two of you. Whatever moment the two of you were about to have had passed, and as much as you wanted to kiss Eddie, it wasn’t the time. You didn’t want to force anything after the moment had been ruined. 

Dammit, Chris. Why couldn’t he have shown up before the movie started? Okay, maybe you were still able to feel pissed at the guy. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” Eddie said, and this time you reached out for his hand instead. Chris might have cockblocked your first kiss with Eddie, but you weren’t going to let him completely ruin the night. You didn’t miss the slight squeeze of his hand as you led him towards your car. 

“I know I totally trashed the performance, but I did have a lot of fun with you tonight.” you told Eddie. “Other than him showing up, I really did like spending time with you.”

“Next date, it’s gonna be just us.” he said. “No chaperones and no Chris-es.”

“So, you want to go on another date with me?” you asked, thinking that maybe the moment wasn’t as ruined as you had thought. 

“I’ll call you this weekend.” Eddie promised. 

He leaned in, and you closed your eyes. Warm lips brushed against your cheek, and you tried not to feel too disappointed. It was still something, after all. The two of you hugged, and you breathed in the faint smell of cigarettes, leather, and popcorn. 

“Not if I call you first.” you said, finding that line was starting to be a small inside joke between the two of you. You hoped that there’d be a lot more shared jokes together in the future. 

You got in your car, and made your way home. Despite the small hiccup, you were starting to feel more confident about the future. Things were going well with Eddie, and you finally had the chance to do something you’d had your heart set on for years now. 

Moving forward wasn’t so bad. 

Eddie was torn on how tonight went. You had fun, and you said that you had fun with him. He had been ready to lean in and plant one on you to make this feel more official but then Chris just had to show up and ruin the night. As usual. 

It might not have been as bad if he hadn’t started talking about auditions and that was what made Eddie’s stomach twist. You had been mentioned enough times that this was something you had always wanted to do, and Eddie admired that a lot. He loved that you wanted to be on stage like that, and if you were in the cast he was sure that he’d show up for you, just as you had been showing up for Corroded Coffin. 

But Chris had been the one to make the offer to you with his new muscles and hair that was longer than Eddie’s. Eddie didn’t want to feel jealous, and most of him felt like the two of you had bonded enough over talking shit about the guy that there was no way you’d had an interest in him. 

So why did a smaller voice in the back of Eddie’s head feel like this was starting to crumble already? You had talked about changing and being different since you had been in school, and Chris looked different and had pointed out that he had graduated almost four years ago. 

“You aren’t at Hawkins High and these aren’t children.” you had said when he had been taking in the site of so many people who looked and dressed more like him.

You hadn’t meant anything by it, Eddie was sure of that. You didn’t seem like the type to put someone down for what they were or weren’t able to accomplish. That still didn’t change the fact that he was a 20 year old still in high school, while you and Chris were out in the real world working and living on your own. Presumably. Eddie didn’t know where Chris was living and didn’t care to. 

It was pretty late in the evening now, and he found himself wishing he could call Ronnie right now. Actually, he was starting to wish that he had talked to her earlier, had listened to her and taken her more seriously a few years ago. 

Three more stupid credits and I’m out. That’s what he’d told himself since September when he walked into school for his sixth year in high school. He could coast through most of his classes, and he just needed to push through until June. 

1986. That was going to be his year. He just needed to get through the rest of 1985 first. 

Just as Eddie was about to go and crash in his bed the phone rang. You were the only one who would be calling him this late, and the knot in his stomach only tightened. You hadn’t been judgemental to his face about his education (or lack there-of) but what if it did matter? 

He didn’t think you’d just up and drop him because Chris Morrison of all people showed up with his stupid long hair, offering you something that you wanted so badly. Right? Then again, Eddie hadn’t exactly been the best at communicating with you at all, and he had disappeared on you more than once without notice. Chris hadn’t hesitated with giving you a way to contact him.

Expecting the worst, Eddie tried to remain calm as he reached the kitchen.

“Hey.” Eddie said into the phone, “Get home safe?”

“Eddie?” 

That voice wasn’t yours. The last time Eddie heard that voice, Eddie had been covered in blood and soot in Police Chief Hopper’s office. Her voice had echoed so loud that Hopper had even flinched as she cursed him out for ruining a chance for both of them. 

“Paige?” Eddie asked in disbelief, as if he were talking to a ghost. 

For fuck’s sake, Eddie this isn’t something we can just reschedule I know this was your shot this was my shot I stuck my neck out for you I know I’m at the police station What did you do? No room for a little tarnish, huh? Don’t be an asshole I’ve been an asshole all along, I’m just the last person in Hawkins to accept it Fuck you. 

“I’ve tried calling you a few times but you weren’t home.” Paige said. 

“You could have left a message.” Eddie’s voice was colder than he meant it. First Chris, and now Paige. What sick prank was the universe playing on him today? 

“I figured you wouldn’t call back if I did.” Paige said, honestly. 

The clock in the kitchen read that it was late in Hawkins and not quite as late in California, assuming that is where Paige was. He wanted to hang up the phone, leave her on a dead end line, just as she had done to him almost two years ago. 

Don’t be an asshole. He told himself. What had happened between the two of them had been the perfect shit storm of events. Eddie had flown, reached out towards the sun, only to crash and burn. He had been reminded of what it really meant to have Munson attached to his name.

Eddie had been the one to fuck up, not Paige. 

“I probably wouldn’t have.” Eddie admitted. 

“Are you going to hang up on me now?” 

Eddie paused. “No.”

“Good.”

“You know it’s... really late.”

“I know. I probably should have called you in the morning but I thought it was worth a shot calling tonight. Besides, it’s not like you have school in the morning.” 

He didn’t, but that was only because he was planning on skipping tomorrow because he’d been out so late tonight. 

Eddie’s mind went through a rolodex of anything that Paige Warner would want to talk to him about after all this time. Was she wanting to finally know how he ended up in holding? Had her brother told her about how he was now Freak King Supreme in Hawkins? Shit, did he have an estranged child with her that he didn’t know about? They had always used protection but shit happens and who could blame her from hiding a kid from a guy who she had to bail out of jail and had no money- 

“I’m sorry.” Paige said. “For how things ended between the two of us. A lot happened after you called and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after.”

Eddie blinked and stared at the faded wallpaper of the kitchen, trying to make sense of the apology. She was apologizing? Why?

“I....” Eddie swallowed. “I think I should be the one apologizing here.”

“Oh, you definitely owe me an apology, too.” Despite her words, there was no bite behind it, no malice. “But I’m offering up my apology first as an olive branch.” 

How come ever since that night at the Palace Arcade, everything had started being so weird for Eddie? 

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Eddie asked as he rubbed his face, the evening was starting to catch up to him now. 

“For blowing up at you at 4 am when you needed help.” Paige said. 

“It’s.. It’s fine. I deserved it.” Eddie leaned against the refrigerator and slid down. His gaze drifted up to the popcorn ceiling of the trailer’s kitchen, picking out constellations in the flaky white plaster. 

“Maybe, but I should have heard you out after I had cooled off.” Paige said. 

“So, you’re calling me in the middle of the night two years later just so we can talk about what happened?” Eddie asked. 

“Not completely. I’m calling because I want to give you a second chance.”

“Uhhh.....” Had Eddie heard that correctly? 

“A lot happened with WR Records after you bailed on the audition.” Paige continued. “I don’t want to go into details over the phone, but the short version is Corroded Coffin might have another shot.” 

Oh, it can get weirder. 

“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie sat up straight, gripping the phone with a grip so tight his knuckles were turning white. 

“I’m coming back to Hawkins for a few weeks. I’ll be landing in a few days, and I want to meet up with you to give you more information.” 

Corroded Coffin might have a second chance. Not just Eddie, but his band. When Paige had managed to get Eddie the original audition, she had said that only he would be the one to go to L.A. to play for all the suits in the business. They were only interested in Eddie, not Corroded Coffin. Eddie was real. 

“You mean, my whole band?” he clarified. “Not just me?” 

“Don’t get too excited.” Paige said firmly. “This isn’t nearly as nice of an opportunity as last time. But it is an opportunity. I want to meet up with you alone first to go over the details and explain what’s going on.” 

“Why just me?” 

“Because you’re the selling point, Eddie. You always were.” 

Real. I saw it that night at the Hideout. I saw it years ago at the stupid talent show. You get up there and whatever you play, it’s raw. It’s life or death. And people can feel it.

Had you felt it? Eddie thought back to the two times you had shown up to see him play, you’d looked up at him with an excitement that he’d only ever seen from the rest of his band. Eddie could count on his hands the number of people who he could say were fans of his. Paige had been the first to look at him like he was someone while he was on stage, but she wasn’t the last. 

“When do you land?” Eddie asked. 

“Early Saturday, but I’m spending time with my family for the next few days.” she said. “I’ll call you and let you know when we can meet up.”

“Yeah.. yeah alright. Sounds good.” 

Did it?

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later Eddie. Good night.” 

“Hey, Paige?”

“Yes?”

“...Thanks. For bailing me out back then. I don’t think they would have released me if you hadn’t.” 

“Just don’t do that again, ok?” Paige said. “And you can give me a proper apology when we meet up.” 

Eddie nodded, and then realized he was on the phone and she couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll be there.” he said. 

The dial tone wasn’t as aggressive as it had been that day in Hoppers office, and this time Eddie didn’t slam the phone down on the receiver. Instead he opened up the fridge, stared hard at the six pack of beer, closed the fridge without grabbing one, and went back to his room. He kicked off his shoes, and shrugged off his clothes, and fell face first onto his bed. 

Eddie tried to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours, replaying the events of the night over and over and over again like a bad movie. Seeing you, watching the movie, almost kissing you, Chris showing up, Paige showing up. How could so much happen in the span of less than three hours? 

Paige wanted to talk to him about Corroded Coffin. Eddie was the selling point. There was no way that WR Records was still interested in him, if they were she would have said so and not even brought up the rest of his band.

Shit, what would the rest of the band even say? Only Jeff had been around for the original demo recording that they had all done together. Dougie had left after that year, Ronnie passed her position off to Gareth. 

Face stuffed into his stained pillowcase, he started creating a list of unanswered questions. Why was Paige showing up now? Why was she reaching out to him? Why is she giving Corroded Coffin another shot? Why did Chris have to show up tonight? Could you be attracted to Chris now that he had long hair and wasn’t the scrawny asshole he was in high school? Why did Dustin suggest him to hook you up with? Why did you agree? Why did he care so much that you didn’t remember him? Why did Steve also keep showing up? Why didn’t he kiss you? Wait, did Paige still want to kiss him? Okay, that one at least had to be a no. 

Eddie gave up on sleep when his uncle came home, and heard the faint snoring coming from the pull out couch in the main room. 

With sleep no longer an option for him for the time being, Eddie dug out his notebooks and instead focused on the mountain of song lyrics and notes from over the past few years. With his guitar slung over his shoulder and unplugged, he would be able to work without disturbing Wayne’s sleep. 

Each silent chord and tab that Eddie played whispered through his bedroom. He mouthed along to the words on the pages, his voice occasionally slipping through the cracks as he figured out the rhythm of the lyrics. Playing guitar cleared his head, music always brought everything to the surface one way or another, even if he didn’t realize it. 

As he focused on a specific riff, his fingers and wrist moved over and over in a constant rhythm. Even when he messed up, he didn’t stop the movements of his fingers as they slid along the strings. It was easy, it was challenging, it was meditative. Eddie could finally focus. 

Paige Warner wanted to see him again to discuss Corroded Coffin. Paige was an ex. Sort of. It had been implied that they were going to make it official when he moved to California with her. They were even going to move in together, even if they would have separate rooms. Roommates who sleep together. 

Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t just up and admit that she was an ex girlfriend. Business or not, Eddie was going to have dinner with an ex. 

If he were still the same shitty 18 year old from two years ago, he wouldn’t have thought it was a big deal. Eddie would have had no problem going to see her, and it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind to tell you. But now, as a less shitty 20 year old, he couldn’t do that. You deserved to know who he was going to see if the two of you were going to go on another date. 

He was also going to have to come clean about a lot more than that if things became more serious. That was something that Eddie was dreading. If he told you about Paige, he’d have to tell you about their history together. Telling you that he and Paige had slept together was easy, but what about the rest? How could he explain that she bailed him out of jail after he’d been arrested because a cop was shot on his lawn after two drug mules had burned his house down because Munson and Junior had stolen five pounds of weed from a reefer truck?

Eddie had only told the whole story to one person, and that was Reefer Rick. He hadn’t even had the heart to tell Wayne everything that had happened that Spring out of shame for everything that he’d done. Even Ronnie had been kept in the dark about what happened. 

The sun slowly came up, and his guitar and notebooks were bathed in a warm golden light that contrasted the chill of the beginning of November. Eddie hung his guitar back up and gathered his notebooks, setting them aside for a later time. He laid back down on the bed, and closed his eyes. He decided that the next time the two of you talked, he would be honest about who Paige was and what their main history was. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to dump all of his family trauma on you at once when things were only just starting out. 

It was kind of funny. Eddie had never set out to be anyone's boyfriend. It had never been a priority with him. Even with Paige, he had definitely found her attractive but aside from seeking her out to ask for her help with getting signed, she had been the one to make any move for anything more to happen. He’d been fine with that at the time, but after spending time with you... 

This wouldn’t be easy, but he told himself he wasn’t going to run anymore. When he woke up, he’d call you and tell you exactly what was going on and who he was going to see. Anything about his police record could wait for now. 

With that thought in mind, Eddie was able to finally pass out. 

It was well into the afternoon when Eddie finally woke up again. He pushed through the grogginess and showered, dressed, and shoved a can of instant pasta into his mouth as he flipped through the limited channels on tv. 

About two hours went by before he remembered that you had today off. You’d mentioned that to him during one of your many long phone calls, and he about smacked himself in the head when he realized it. He’d been sitting around and waiting for you to get off work, and you hadn’t even gone in today. 

Eddie held the phone in his hand, his fingers hovering over the dial pad hesitantly before forcing himself to push the digits that would connect the two of you again. 

You answered on the third ring. 

“No Hellfire today?” you asked. 

“Not this time, everyone bailed out early for fall break.” Eddie said. “We did our Halloween special yesterday.”

“Tell me about it?” 

Eddie felt himself nearly melting into a pile of goo at the words. You always asked about his campaigns and his band, taking an interest in a way that no one ever had before. There was a lot that he had to tell you, but.. He could at least give you this before he gave you the real reason why he called. 

You listened as he told you about how the party went up against a pumpkin creature that had been attacking the town. It was a module he had made himself, and that he’d been working on for the past month between the main story of the campaign. You laughed and gasped at all the right moments, sealing the idea that Eddie was going to make a one-shot for you specifically to play. He couldn’t wait to help you make a character and add you to his table. 

Assuming you would even want anything to do with him after what he was about to tell you.

“Sounds like a Scooby Doo episode.” you said, as he finished his tale. 

“More like Goober and the Ghost Chasers.” Eddie smiled, taking his usual seat in front of the fridge. 

The two of you talked, and it was far too easy to get lost in all of the conversations that he had with you. Every time he told himself to suck it up and tell you who he was planning on seeing, you’d ask him something and the two of you would be off on another tangent. 

But then Eddie found his opening, and it was time to talk. 

“I’ll be at the Hideout again next week.” you said. “I’m really looking forward to hearing that song you keep hinting at. How many original songs are you hiding from me?” 

“We have almost seven by now, but no one wants to hear them.” Eddie lied, knowing full well there had been at least one person before who did. 

“I want to.” 

Two people. 

Fuck, he needed to tell you. 

“So... speaking of Corroded Coffin,” he said carefully. “We actually almost had a chance to audition for WR Records.”

“Hole shit.” you gasped into the phone. “What happened? I would have thought any record company would be tearing down the door to get you to sign with them. Or, oh, were they too mainstream? Did they want you to sell out? Change everything about you? Did you tell them to shove it, and that you wanted to make real music?” 

Eddie couldn’t help but snort into the phone, suppressing a laugh. “Nah, we uh... well we made a demo tape and sent it in, and they wanted us- me. They wanted me to audition.”

“Just you...?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picked at a loose fray in the tear in his jeans. “They didn’t really like Corroded Coffin, but they did like me. But I blew my chance, and never made it to the audition.”

“Shit, Eddie... that sucks.” you said sympathetically. “What happened?” 

Eddie was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out how to explain to you what happened.

“Eddie?” you asked after he didn’t say anything. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to get into it.”

“I fucked up.” He finally admitted. “I did something stupid, and it stopped me from making it to California for the audition. That was two years ago. And last night I just got news that Corroded Coffin might be having another shot at something.”

“Wait really? That’s incredible that they still want to talk to you! And you said it was for the whole band this time? Not just you?”

“I don’t think it’s WR Records this time but a talent scout found me and is wanting to talk about Corroded Coffin?”

“There was a talent scout at the Hideout?”

“No.... my uh.. My ex.” 

The silence between the two of you was deafening. For a few seconds, the world went completely still, and silent. Eddie always hated silence. 

“Oh.” you said after a while, and Eddie could tell you were trying to process what he had just said. “So your ex wants to talk to you about your band?”

Your voice sounded neutral, almost too casual, and Eddie hated that too. “She- Paige- she was the one to give Corroded Coffin a chance. She paid for the demo herself, sent it to her boss, and got the audition slot for me. But I fucked up, ended up locked up for a few hours, and everything fell apart.”

Eddie wished that he could see your face, would you look at him with sympathy? Disgust? Would you suddenly look at him like everyone else in town? 

“That sounds like a lot.” You said. 

“Not gonna ask me what I was in for?” 

“Do you want to tell me?”

“...Not yet.”

“Are you on some sort of list?”

“No.”

“Did you kill someone?” 

“I don’t think I’d be let out if I did.”

“Good point. Alright. Then I’ll trust you that you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Trust. You trusted him. When was the last time he had anyones trust?

“Paige wants to give Corroded Coffin another chance.” Eddie said. “She wants me to meet up with her to give me details. I don’t know what she’s planning on offering but-”

“She bailed you out of jail and is offering you something you always wanted?” You asked, and he could hear something in your voice that sounded almost like defeat. “You should go. It’s clear that the two of you have a history that you two need to work though. And if she’s offering you and Corroded Coffin a chance, you have to take it, right?”

The way you said ‘right’ made him wonder if you were asking something more than just his current situation. 

Why was it that every time you two started to find your footing together, things slipped up? How could things constantly be so weird with you when this should have felt easy? What force in the universe out there kept dangling good things in front of Eddie just to take them away as a cruel joke? 

“Right.” Eddie said, sounding just about as sure as he felt about this. He didn’t even know what this was. 

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it sounds like it’s complicated and you two need to talk about it.” you said. “Just let me know what’s going on after, okay?” 

Eddie knew what you really meant. Let me know if this is going anywhere or if you’re going to get back with your ex.

That was a thought he didn’t even want to entertain. It already seemed to be impossible that Paige wanted to talk to him again, let alone date again. 

“I will.” He would. “I’ll let you know when we’re meeting up and what she says.” 

“I have my audition next Saturday.” you added. “And Robin and Steve and I are going to have a movie night later this week to hang out. But, I’ll still be at the Hideout if you all are still playing and not signed by then.”

You were joking with him, and he took that as a sign that maybe he didn’t completely fuck up.

“We’ll be there.” Eddie said. “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday then.”

“See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 

With the phone hook back on the receiver, Eddie took a deep breath. 

Just when things are starting to get good, huh?

a/n:

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

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[bylertruther]

BYLER SPACE OPERA AU MOODBOARD

MIKE WHEELER is a senator's son that fell from grace soon after the forced disappearance of his best friend, Will Byers. All too aware that there would be no justice for his friend, or for any of the other missing persons, Mike eventually took it upon himself to find him, wherever he may be. Having fled with a ship he helped modify for off-the-radar travel, he sails the starry seas tirelessly, year after year, trading his hard-earned skills for any information that may lead him back to the light. And though his mission is to find his friend, he's managed to earn himself quite the reputation in the bounty hunting world, too. Mike may come from a high-seated and affluent family, but make no mistake: he cuts the rot from the rind of every village he passes through, and has an uncanny ability to sniff out all that isn't right. It isn't within him to turn a blind eye to evil or those in need of help. What drives him to search for Will is exactly what drives him to aid others: his heart, his undying belief in a better galaxy, and his contempt for the great many that do nothing. He's allied himself with what remains of the now-disbanded Hellfire Club, but mostly travels alone with only his repurposed astromech droid, DST-1N, to keep him company. It's lonely—this life that he's made for himself. So much so that sometimes he thinks he can hear Will come through on the radio, humming a tune from their childhood to soothe his aching heart. Will never responds, not ever, but that's okay, because Mike's coming. He doesn't care what DST-1N, or Lucas, or anyone says. Will is out there—alive. He just has to find him.

WILL BYERS was the first of many forced disappearances in Hokkins, targeted for reasons that still remain unclear. He doesn't remember much of his home-planet, or that ill-fated night. In fact, he doesn't remember much of anything. The life he'd once had, and what recollection of it may have survived, slips through his fingers like little grains of sand—the same sand that makes up his new home now, and wedges itself into every nook and cranny of his existence. All that Will knows is the blistering sun overhead, the strange girl that begs him in that stern, but endlessly wide-eyed way of hers to not question this life they share, and the rules they're to follow if they wish to see another day. Eleven, he soon finds out, won't tell him the origin of his scars, or even the origin of him himself, but she does tell him about other things—about how to listen to the world around him, how to harness the light that lives within him, and how to keep the dark of night from creeping in (even if, sometimes, she looks at him like he's the dark they need to look out for). In turn, he teaches her how to create things, about the joys of music, and how to make a life of what they've been given. Most days, it's enough. He tells himself that when they manage to barter enough scraps for a piece of fruit to share, or come across a particularly fiery redhead and her much-adored hoverboard. He tells himself that when their shack becomes a home, and when scared strangers become friends, become siblings. Still, he dreams. Somewhere out beyond his reach is a world full of luscious green and bountiful life. A world where there's someone to ruffle his hair and fuss over him; to make room when he climbs into their bed after a nightmare, and encourage him when no one else will; to play and learn and grow with him, and make hushed promises that they never wanted to break. He sees them in the flames sometimes—those someones. Most of the time it's a woman with a worn face and trilling voice, begging him to please talk to her. Other times… it's a man. Freckle-faced, with a dark, unruly mane and a fierce gaze—a gaze that softens and turns watery whenever he feels as time and space bend to bring them together, and their hearts beat in sync to play the same wild drumming song. His sister tells him that it isn't real—that these are illusions meant to trick him and tempt him back to the hell she plucked him from, but—but Will knows them. He knows with heart-shattering clarity that his dreams and the light do not deceive him. He knows that man, and he knows in some inexplicable way that he would never hurt him—that the woman, too, would never in her life hurt him. He knows them, and yet… he hides. Because he knows, too, that there's a reason his sister keeps him hidden from the world. There's a reason she keeps him close to the flames at night, why he remembers nothing, and why it is so important that it stays that way. So, no, Will doesn't reveal himself. Instead, he listens. He hums, and he tugs on the strings which connect them all, and hopes that they'll hear him. I'm here, he says. I'm right here.

[asternoodles]

Mutant-tober Day 21 - Hellfire

Captain Kate Pryde of the Marauder, Red Queen of the Hellfire Trading Company!!

It’s a bit late but shhhh

Marauders has been my favorite Krakoa run so far, I love Kate

[racefortheironthrone]

I have come to realize, I don't quite understand what a back-up story is? Like, do some comic issues just sometimes have too much space for the main story so they include another, smaller comic at the back?

No, it's usually the reverse: the creators have a story they like, but that's too short to make up a full comic, so they attach it as a bonus feature after the A-story.

To me, the acme of how to do backup stories are Chris Claremont's Classic X-Men. In an era before trade paperback and omnibus collections were common, in an era before there were digital comics libraries where you could access the entire back catalogue of entire companies on demand, Classic X-Men reprinted everything from the Roy Thomas/Neal Adams Silver Age through to the big hits of the first hundred or so issues of the Claremont run with edited captions and dialogue and interstitial panels and pages of new art.

However, Chris Claremont wasn't satisfied with tinkering around the edges, so the first 44 issues of Classic X-Men included backup stories by him and Ann Nocenti. These short (usually ~8 page) stories included a lot of "deleted scenes" - so you get to see how things that are alluded to but not shown in the main narrative, like the beginning of Logan and Jean's attraction in the immediate wake of Giant-Size #1, or Emma Frost's Hellfire Club scheming against Jason Wyngarde or Selene during the Dark Phoenix Saga, or Jean Grey wrestling with what it means to be the Phoenix with the help of Storm and Misty Knight, or why Nightcrawler stopped using his image inducer and came out of the closet as a mutant, etc. These scenes "danced between the raindrops" of canon, where they added richness and flavor to the main story without being essential reading.

But more and more, Claremont and Nocenti used these backup stories to fill out backstories through "period pieces." It is in these stories that we see Max Eisenhardt escape Auschwitz and tragically lose his daughter Anya, or go from being a Nazi hunter in South America to a mutant separatist terrorist when he learns the truth about Operation Paperclip. It is in these stories that we see Jean Grey's psychic powers awaken when she experiences the tragic death of her childhood friend Annie Richardson from inside Annie's mind, and how that shaped her understanding of life and death and what it means to be a mutant.

I would argue that these stories are essential reading, because they're often where Claremont (and Nocenti) found the emotional core of his characters, the motivational drives that make them who they are.

Alternatively, backup stories are where creators could take advantage of free "real estate" in anthology books, team-up books, and annuals to tell more fantastical and imaginative B-stories that wouldn't have fit within an overarching narrative. So we get weird stuff like Margali Szardos casting her adopted son Kurt Wagner into the literal Inferno of Dante Alighieri, or straight-edge Harlan County miner's son Sam Guthrie romantically abducted by an intergalactic cat burglar who also happens to be a cockney Joan Jett, and so on.

And that's what I like about backup stories - they're like miniature paintings, where the artists get to stretch their creative muscles free of the burden and pressure of the magnum opus.

[cursegirlrabbit]

Wish review cause I've got stuff to say

Do not read if you have not seen the movie and don't want spoilers. Also you don't have to read if you uncared about my opinion I just have words to say about this movie but I am not saying anyone has to have the same opinions as me.

So first point. Storyline.

I felt it was to...rushed like everything happened so fast from Asha finding out the truth to her wishing on star, revolting and then the ending. It felt very rushed and it was hard to feel any stakes or tension, didn't even get a real feel for the characters. Like Enchanto gave us the slow stake of the house and the magic slowly fading and breaking. Same with coco and him finding his relative that will wish him home while letting him play music.

Even little mermaid did a better job of storyline of Showing Ariel and her interests, her meeting Eric, saving Erica, meeting Ursula and then the whole three days to make Eric fall for her.

A rushed storyline brings me to the second point. Characters. Now I liked Asha but I didn't really get to KNOW her. All I know of ashamed is she's caring, can draw and has alot of faith in people and their wishes. Which is wonderful...but that's all I got from her. With Miguel we know he's mischief, loves to play music, fast runner, overly friendly and stubborn. With rapunzel we learned she was innocent, naive, artistic, a jack of all trades, curious and anxious.

Asha kind of felt like snow white or Aurora, there just wasn't much to her.

I also felt magnifico revealed his true colours really quickly to a girl he didn't know very well and didn't trust. I mean she wasn't even his apprentice yet and he outright told her that not all the wishes got granted and majority of them float around. Like...why? Why did he tell her that when she didn't even work for him yet or show any reason for him to trust her with this information. Hell the whole movie wouldn't have happened if he HADNT said anything

Speaking of Magnifico, I didn't mind him as a villain. He reminded me of Ernesto from coco and maleficent. And I understood what he represented, at least in my eyes this movie showed alot of toxic relationship and toxic manipulation method and techniques. Such as magnifico telling and expecting the people to just listen and follow him blindly just because he does his duty as their king

'I let you live here for free and don't charge rent, I clean up your messes, I give and give and give and all I ask for is respect' sounds alot like how toxic parents manipulate their young children as well as toxic spouses.

Ashas friends were also not very flushed out as characters, I barely remember their names except for dahlia. The other friends I only remember from their main trait, guy who sneezes, the quiet girl, the chill out guy, the short angry one, sad Simon and one more girl I don't remember. The friends only showed up for short times and we just didn't learn much about them

And one more thing, the MUSIC. Like...Disney.. come on. I found none of those songs or music pieces as catching my attention. This is a company that gave us hellfire, part of your world, let it go, every song of coco, we don't talk about Bruno, we are the three caballeros, kiss the girl, be a man, son of man, two worlds!

Also, the ENDING! I took two morals from this movie. How to spot toxic relationships and when to leave (this from the people and especially the queen who once she realises he is no longer the man she loves and he won't change and is hurting people. Stands up to him even though she LOVES him) and the second being 'don't rely on others to make your dreams and wishes come true' wonderful! Yes accept help to make your dreams come true but don't rely on others or give up.

But then...THEY GIVE ASHA A WAND?!! so that SHE can grant wishes?!! WHAT DID WE JUST LEARN!!?! yes I know asha would do a fairer and better job but...but COME ON!!

But now the GOOD POINTS

I liked the animation at first it was odd but that's because I'm not used to the style. But it was still lovely and the effects with the magic especially the wishes and the forbidden magic was fantastic.

The concept. The idea of someone realising that their beloved King is actually misusing and betraying them is a very nice idea and I love the idea of showing kids how to spot this kind of manipulation from adults they are supposed to trust.

I also loved the concepts of Wishes. Of the people feeling joy and wonder and love when they got their wishes back into their hearts and them feeling a horrible feeling when the wishes were crushed.

All in all. I feel the movie was rushed, and they should have waited longer and put more time into it rather then rush it out for the 100 years of Disney.

But that's just my view, would love to hear yours ^.^ (but no hate on anyones views or ideas)

[ofelia-dumb-nerd]

Hola gente. A guide to where to begin reading Emma Frost. The White Queen of the Hellfire Club and Hellfire Trading Company. From evil mistress to benevolent mistress, and always a teacher.

Maybe that horse deserved it

[brw]

I saw your post about Charles Xavier, and I loved it. I hate when Charles is written by as villainous or seen that way by fans; because of his visible disability and one the fact that he's one of the most prominent disabled characters in comics that is being portrayed/seen as evil.

Also, could you tell me about your thoughts on Charles please.

ooooo yeah i do think writers have given charles a VERY short end of the stick... which is weird because a lot of writers after will continue to write him as a kindly old man figure despite the moral transgressions which i think is where most people's frustration comes from. but i do think he's held to a higher standard? like i keep saying it but emma's name is literally white queen + she once stole & used ororo's body against her will + hellfire trading company is very clearly inspired by the east india trading company, but she's a fan favourite. this isn't to say he isn't an awful person at times but for xmen that means kind of nothing to me. anyway, for me personally i just get frustrated because i think there is a good potential narrative here but because writers aren't disabled & don't understand our experiences this context is always missing.

"charles is a spineless liberal" is funny to say but it makes more sense once you think about him as a disabled man who for most of his life was not disabled. disabled people HAVE to make themselves digestible & acceptable for neurotypical society, so we can get the accessibility & accomodations we desperately need. it makes SENSE from that perspective charles would be more about acceptance & assimilation, because from his experience as a disabled man that's what he needs. it makes sense that erik, as a jewish survivor, knows that you can't make peace with some people & it is much better to be independent, to have the ability to defend yourself & to take out the people who literally want you dead, but those aren't necessarily the same goals as the disabled community, at least not for Charles. Him & Erik are a very interesting potential narrative about how different communities have different goals and different needs, but because few writers who touch Charles have disabilities that nuance is often lost & he becomes the spineless liberal we joke about.

Charles also works as a very good discussion on internalised ableism, were people to take him in that direction. Like I said, Charles wasn't always disabled & for much of his early adult life he was able bodied, & he grew up in an ableist society. It makes sense he would then internalise that & project that onto his own students & the way he approaches mutants. because he's so uncomfortable with himself & the way he looks, he's become uncomfortable with the way visible mutants look too because he struggles to separate the two. that would explain in part why all the mutants he chooses to represent the xmen or to go out for press conferences or whatever are all human passing, because of his internal sense of shame that he's projected onto children who don't deserve that.

& that's one of the biggest let downs of the modern era is that Charles automatically chooses to be walking.Yes, for some people that's empowering, but Charles will always be the first name people think of when they think of wheelchair users in comics, aside from Barbara. That recognisability in my opinion is more important, & I just can't help but feel like it would be important to have Charles be with Karma in a character that has accepted their disability & is not interested in changing themselves. Yes, that isn't everyone's experience & I do think it's important for some people who want those stories to have a voice, but Charles has a pop culture iconography that in my opinion is more important than a justification to erase his disability.

Charles is a very flawed person, & I think he should stay being flawed & imperfect & often ignoring other people's needs & opinions that are based around their experiences that he doesn't share, but I think he also does have a lot of potential as a disabled character & I'm very frustrated at the x-office opting to just erase that aspect rather than try and include those narratives. Like Krakoa still doesn't look wheelchair accessible. We could have an interesting discussion about how even in leftist utopias disabled people are still often forgotten about or ignored & erased out of the discussion, but because nobody sees the inaccessibility that discussion just isn't there. It's disappointing & just another item in the long list of how the X-Men team fail to tackle minority politics accurately or at all.

[hauntedxwritings]

Caleb Quinn / Deathslinger: Born in the dust-ridden badlands of the American Midwest, Caleb Quinn was son to struggling Irish immigrants. On the edge of the frontier, sickness, famine an death were common sights, and pioneers contended for whatever scraps they could claim while tycoons feasted. Caleb's father, once an engineer, had few options to ply his trade as businesses posted a common sign: No Irish Need Apply. His antiquated tools laid untouched for years until Caleb uncovered them. Noticing his son's interest in the trade, he gifted him his old wrench. The devices Caleb made under his father's guidance had quaint applications, but when his father was away, they took a grim turn. He hid plans for a mask that would gouge barbed wire needles into the human's eyes and rip them from their sockets, complete with sketches of it fitted on boys who bullied him. With age, Caleb's engineering abilities became marketable and employers put their discrimination aside. Henry Bayshore, the owner of United West Rail, hired him.

Caleb first invented a gun that shot railroad spikes into the ground. Next, he made a steam-powered tunneling drill. But as Bayshore feigned indifference, the device began turning up at other companies, the patents stolen from Caleb and sold.

A familiar sensation coursed through Caleb's blood, feeing the sharp pain in his heart. Rage overwhelming him, he burst into Bayshore's office and smashed his face into a bloody stew. As he was pulled away, he pushed his specialized gun to his bosses gut and squeezed the trigger. A railroad spike plowed through skin and viscera, nailing Bayshore to his desk.

The only thing that saved Caleb from hanging was Bayshore's unlikely survival. For fifteen years, Caleb was confined to Hellshire Penitentiary, the nations first private prison. In a fortress of illiterate convicts, he found an unlikely friend in the educated prison warden. He designed torture devices for him and in return he recieved extra meals. After a time, the warden offered to commute his sentence. He spoke of something greater than monetary wealth - political capital - and that his connections could have Bayshore framed and rotting behind bars for life. He had only one request: Make Him Rich. Fill The Prison. Use ingenuity to bring outlaws in alive.

Caleb returned to his workshop, and with a few modifications emerged with something new - the speargun. The first trial occurred when a thief robbed a Chinese laundry. Seizing the opportunity, Caleb unleashed his prototype. Metal joints screeched as the spike shot forward, gouging into the target's abdomen. But as the spear tugged it caught the thief's intestines and, with an ungodly sound, yanked them onto the dusty road. After several iterations the disembowelments dwindled, but Caleb had already earned his new nickname: The Deathslinger.

Looking to protect his asset, the prison warden pulled strings and released Irish prisoners to form Caleb's posse. The Hellshire Gang was born. For six years they roamed the country collecting wanted outlaws for the prison, fulfilling their end of the bargain. After a bloody battle at Glenvale, Caleb caught notice of a newspaper headline: Henry Bayshore Purchases Hellfire Penitentiary. In the picture, a disfigured Bayshore proudly shook the warden's hand. Caleb's heart pounded with rage, blood swelling as if it would burst from his veins. He'd been sold out, a pawn in a rich mans game.

The Hellshire Gang pledged their loyalty to Caleb and called for the warden's head. In a thundering gallop, they smashed through the prison entrance, shrieking like bloodthirsty marauders. A guard raised his pistol but hesitated. A spear punctured his chest. Caleb grabbed the man's head and slammed it against a prison cell until it spilled through the bars.

Reaching the warden's office, Caleb kicked the door and was met with a fortunate sight- it wasn't only the prison warden who coward in the corner, but Henry Bayshore. Overpowered with rage, Caleb rushed Bayshore, beating, bludgeoning, and tearing at his flesh. The mans blood dripped from his face, crimson pooling at his feet. The Hellshire Gang swarmed the warden, snapping his bones with each kick.

With the two men broken and begging for death, the posse dragged them to the commons where they were left to the growing crowd of prisoners.

Soaked in blood and sweat, Caleb hobbled to his old cell, hardly paying notice to Bayshore's screams. He sat on the beds edge as drops of blood ran from his fingertips. A thick unnatural fog streamed through the barred window. He pulled out his wrench, cracked and rusted, and ran a thumb along the metal, regarding it with faded eyes. He couldn't remember when it came to his possession. He didn't care to remember. At his feet he saw a dusty path, and, at its end, silhouettes of all who had done him wrong: the boys who bullied him, the executives who took advantage of him, and, again.. Henry Bayshore. Emerging from the fog were the tools to dispose of them-- unforgiving steel hooks, brilliant and beautiful in their simplicity. Pain tore through his leg as he stood but he endured, pushing onward, walking the dusty path, leaving a trail of blood flowing behind him.

[sebastianshaw]

I ALMOST FORGOT! It’s still Fanfic Friday and here’s my fic! Haven, Ajak, Makkari, Darkstar, Scorpion, Asp, Mantis, Lightwave. All the dress designs I did or plan to do. Plus Essex and Bennet as cameos, and Selene in the role as the villan. requested by @catboy-sinister Shaw is mentioned in passing but does not appear. This is all about Haven being a damsel in distress who gets saved by multiple beautiful women, because I really really really like Haven getting rescued like she never did in canon. Basically, self-indulgent slosh as always! Complete with my attempt at classic comic-book dialogue style!

The third Hellfire Gala was in full swing, held outdoors, for the glory of Krakoa itself surpassed the beauty of any structure’s interior. There were sheltered areas, of course, but these were open, and they were not concrete and cement and glass and rebar, but natural structures formed by Krakoa itself. Caves and tunnels of stone that had sprung up overnight like giant mushrooms, with natural holes to serve as windows and crystals that jutted from the ‘sills’ to cast colored light on the opposite walls, twisting overheads of massive tree roots risen from the ground ensnared by whole forests worth of vines and flowers, spiraling fungi steps leading up to second ‘floors’ made of branches so wide and flat on top they served easily as walkways for multiple people to mingle upon. And as the sun set, genetically engineered insects, flowers, lichens, and more fungi lit up the dusk with their natural glow. Well, natural-ish. Mantis found it all very interesting. She’d always had an inborn empathy with nature, and her connection to plant life in particular had only been enhanced by her union with the Prime Cotati as the Celestial Madonna. Therefore, she’d been keen to communicate not simply with Krakoa itself, but all the organisms upon it—and no, she didn’t mean mutants. She wanted to know how these flowers and lichens and so on felt about their modification and utilization as decor for these invasive meat-creatures. Their responses varied, as with any population, but most seemed content enough with the situation. She’d also found it quite interesting to communicate with a fellow guest, Radha “Haven” Dastoor. A human philanthropist with a long history of supporting all those downtrodden or oppressed, she was the only current human member of Krakoa’s Inner Circle of the Hellfire Trading Company. Appointed its Black Queen, she was a liaison to both the human world, and invaluable as someone who knew where the miracle drugs of the famous island flora were needed most, and how to distribute them. What was of interest to Mantis though, was the woman’s. . .vibes, might be the most accurate word in English. Again, Mantis was a keenly sensitive individual even before her link to vegetation formed, and that extended to people. It seemed Haven, though she possessed no superpowers, was the same. The older woman had seen her off by herself—well, seemingly by herself, if you didn’t count non-animal life forms!---and how she appeared entranced with the plants before her, touching them with her antenna, for Mantis spoke to them without words, in their own language. She’d approached, and inquired most politely about it. Sensing her sincerity, Mantis explained, and she felt the most exquisite reaction of wonder and joy from this Haven! Haven found this a fantastic thing, and she told Mantis so, setting off their conversation. And through that conversation, Mantis could feel a bond growing between them rapidly, and what was more, she could feel Haven feeling it as well! Emotions and words flowed rapidly and naturally between the women like two rivers mixing their waters, and in minutes it was if they’d been lifelong friends. These two were not the only ones finding common ground. Two agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, Carmilla “Scorpion” Black and Aurora “Lightwave” Dante, were also hitting it off. Despite both being employed with the same organization, and both superpowered women of similar youth, they’d actually never met before til now, when they were sent in attendance together after receiving their mutual invites. “I wasn’t sure I even counted as a mutant, to be honest,” Scorpion was telling Lightwave, “I mean, my powers came at sixteen, yeah, and it happened on its own, no radioactive scorpions involved, but I thought that was all due to my bio-monster’s genetic engineering.” “I guess maybe it could be a little of both?” Lightwave suggested, “Maybe you always had the X-gene, and your mom just played around with how it manifested.” “Well, given how it ended up actually SAVING me from her brainwashing chemicals, that would make a lot of sense. There’s no way she’d have arranged for THAT deliberately.” “That’s the old unpredictable x-factor!” Lightwave quipped, “You never know what it’s gonna do or how it’s gonna do it! I think that’s actually why it’s named that.” “Really? I always figured it was after that Professor X guy, didn’t he discover it?” “He did, and he named it, but I heard it wasn’t after himself, it was—oh, hi, can we help you?” “I apologize so much for interrupting,” said the dark-skinned woman who had approached them. She was beautiful, older than the pair of them but surely not out of her 30s, maybe not even into them, her sleek black hair in a chin-length bob and her black-and-gold gown in an Egyptian-inspired design. “But you, in the fetching green number. . .you are the one they call Stinger?” “I’m Scorpion. This is Stinger,” Scorpion lifted her left arm and pointed to it with her right one. The latter was covered in a long ruched sleeve that matched the skirt of her dress, but the former was bare save for a metal armlet from which metal fringes and small spikes, matching her earrings, dangled, and a metal bracelet linked to a ring, with a dazzling green gem between them set on the back of her hand. This ring-bracelet was a modified version of the gauntlet specially constructed by S.H.I.E.L.D to help her better control the discharges from Stinger, as she called her left arm. Normally, the gauntlet contracted into a much plainer little bracelet for her civilian-wear, but the good folks in the SHIELD labs had crafted her a bauble more befitting this occasion. “I see,” said the woman sweetly, and the smile at her lips was looking less polite and more.  . .intrigued? Pleased? Anticipatory? “Why do you ask?” Lightwave said, feeling a bit odd about all this, and a bit left out of the conversation. “I’m Asp, of the Serpent Society,” the woman replied, “And while I’ve yet to take up residence on this lovely island, I’m a mutant myself—one of the few among my cohorts whose powers are all-natural. All-natural and—very similar to yours.” She darted her eyes towards Scorpion, and continued, “I can fire blasts of energy from my hands—both hands—that has an effect on the body like that of a venomous snake. You call yours a sting; I liken mine to a bite.” “Uh huh, cool,” Scorpion was somehow both bored and suspicious, and placed her hands on her waist, “So our powers are vaguely alike. Anything else you wanted to tell me?” Unresponsive to the rise of rudeness in the younger woman’s tone, Asp continued in her own polite one, though there was a persuasive silkiness to it now, “I’ve been propositioned by a few residents of Krakoa to partake in a game of chance. They want to take bets on which of us has a better venom-blast. And the winner gets a cut of the pot.” Scorpion looked at her hard. Lightwave tensed, unsure of what the outcome would be. “Nah,” said Scorpion, “My powers aren’t a game for me, lady. I don’t play with them like one.” “Oh, what a pity,” said Asp primly, “I did so hope you’d be a willing participant.” “What’s that supposed to mea–” Scorpion was cut off as Asp fired a venom blast towards her; Scorpion’s quick reflexes allowed her to jump out of the way, but it still would have grazed her calf if not for Lightwave’s equally quick force shield. Asp readied another blast, but was caught from behind by tendrils of darkness that bound her arms to the sides and lifted her off her feet. Behind her, controlling the solid shadows, hovered a slender blonde woman, dressed in Gala regalia was well. Darkstar, aka Laynia Petrovna, a recently arrived resident on Krakoa who had defected from service to the Russian government. “No fighting is allowed here! You know the rules!” Darkstar commanded. “We’re not…ungh…fighting. . .we’re competing!” Asp gasped, straining against her umbrous bonds. Darkstar looked to Scorpion and Lightwave for confirmation.  . .or lack thereof. “Yeah,” Scorpion said after a moment, “We were just testing our powers against each other. They’re pretty similar so we wanted to see who packed more poison.” Lightwave looked at her comrade in surprise, but didn’t contradict her. “Hmm,” Darkstar evaluated the situation. She’d wanted to be useful to the nation of Krakoa, as they had shown her great mercy by allowing her here, and she was consuming resources of the island, and she wished to give back to its people, protect them, as she had protected those of Mother Russia. To this end, she’d been appointed a reserve X-Man, and in the meantime given a great many menial tasks. For instance, Gala security. She lowered herself down, and released Asp, stating, “Games of skill are permitted as part of the Gala’s activities, but please, use an area designated for such. I will guide you to one and supervise.” Asp looked irritated, but all she said was, “Thank you so much.” As Darkstar lead the way, Lightwave whispered to Scorpion, “Why did you say that?” “Because I can handle myself,” Scorpion whispered back, “I don’t need KG-Blondie coming to my rescue. This lady really wants a fight? Fine.” Meanwhile, Asp was calling some friends on her little snake-themed cell phone, and by the time the trio arrived with Darkstar to the clearing, there was already a little crowd of interested parties waiting. “This better be a good show and a good pot, love,” Pyro quipped at Asp, “I left a bonzer card game for this!” “You were losing,” Phantazia pointed out. “Not for long I wasn’t gonna be!” Scorpion and Lightwave weren’t the only guests experiencing some. . .conflict. “Oh dear me, Ajak, you may be divine these days, but that dress surely is not!” Sinister crowed at the Eternal, “Oh my, wait, no—Dante did write the Divine Comedy, did he not? That must be what he meant!” Ajak had come to the Gala not as Ajak Celestia, but as herself. Somehow. Yet she had allegedly not unfused with the Progenitor. According to her, this was but a tangible aspect of herself, continuing to experience the world as an individual while her whole remained at her post, watching the world and waiting for the right time to pass the final judgement upon it all. Right now though, she was being judged, quite harshly, by Sinister. Or rather, her sartorial choices were. And while Ajak was not one who took pride in fashion, pride she did have, much too much so to be mocked by this obscenity before her that called itself Sinister. “You were gagged and shackled by me before,” Ajak warned coolly, “Do not tempt me to do so again.” “Oh, you’re not the one I’d want doing that,” Sinister assured, “But Bennett, dear, have you seen Shaw around? He might be into it.” Exodus and Ajak both looked confused, but Makkari, who had been doing her best to diffuse things, looked disgusted. Unlike the other two, she’d spent a long time in the modern world, after all. But she needn’t have worried. No one had seen Shaw for quite some time this evening. How very odd. Very, very odd. Wherever Shaw was, though, he wasn’t with Haven. Nor was Exodus. Nor was Ajak. Save for Mantis, she was alone. And Mantis, she said, suddenly had an engagement. So scratch that. Haven was alone when a column of darkness solidified before her into none other than Selene, Black Priestess! Priestess to what? The ultimate goddess—-herself of course! “You wretched little creature!” the sorcerous mutant spat as tendrils of her darkness reached out and wrapped around Haven, flexible as vines and strong as chains, “You truly thought you could usurp my place?! You thought it was yours to take and Shaw’s to give?! He’s been dealt with and now so shall y–” Selene was cut off by a kick to the back of her head that would have decapitated a mere mortal. . .or a mutant who wasn’t smart enough to have protectively enchanted her body since that little upstart snipe(r) Hope had shot her. “This one thinks not!” Mantis cried, having used the kick to push herself away from Selene once more and land dramatically near Haven, whose bonds had momentarily loosened due to Selene’s distraction. Loosened. . .but, Mantis found when she tried to free her new friend, not enough. “This one sensed something was afoot!” she explained, in her customary third-person speaking style. It was not due to lack of understanding so-called “proper” English, but a very deliberate way of distancing herself from the ego of the words “I” and “me” as the Pama Priests had taught her. “So you hid in the shadows til I emerged,” Selene emerged, looming over her new opponent, “Very clever—but you’d have been far more clever to avoid the Black Queen!” As she spoke, the rocks and stones around them levitating and hurled down towards Mantis like comets. She leaped into the air once more, using them as stepping stones, trying to get back to Selene. The rocks, meanwhile, avoided Haven; Selene had far more personal plans in store for her attempted replacement. Selene’s telekinesis could only affect inanimate objects. Plants, though perhaps not as mobile as their meaty counterparts, were not inanimate. They were beyond her control. But they answered to another mistress—Mantis, the Celestial Madonna! As she bounded from rock to rock while avoiding being hit by the same projectiles she climbed, she still managed to direct a portion of her mental energy towards summoning the aid of the surrounding flora—something Krakoa was plentiful in! Flowers, ferns, and moss, they all came to her aid, the trees themselves bending to swing their mighty branches at the black-clad witch, as though nature itself were trying to banish her unnatural presence. But Selene just cackled, and the foliage before her burst into flames. For pyrokinesis was on her list of myriad talents mutant and magical. Still, even this defeat served its purpose for Mantis, who used the Black Priestess’s moment of triumph as a distraction to lunge at her! But Selene met this too with laughter, welcoming Mantis into her arms—arms whose skin instantly began to drain the life itself from the Celestial Madonna’s flesh! “My what truly potent energy you have!” Selene crowed, “So unique! Those senses of yours didn’t tell you what MY true gift is, did they? To drain your life and make it my own! Don’t fret though, you won’t die—you will live for eternity in ME!” “The only place of eternity for you is the PIT!” Darkstar had joined the fray. Like Mantis, she too had sensed a disturbance in the force—the Darkforce, specifically, which Selene was calling upon for her shadow manipulation. She couldn’t commandeer the shadows that were holding Haven, but she could at least summon her own to save Mantis, engulfing the former Avenger in a Darkforce teleportation portal, sending her somewhere safer. Alas, that also meant that Mantis was out of the fight, especially since those unused to traveling through the Darkforce dimension were often drained by it, physically and mentally. Even now, mere prolonged contact with it was probably harming Haven on both fronts. Darkstar knew she had to end this fast. Selene, however, had no intention of cooperating with that notion. The two Darkforce wielders went at it, firing their obsidian elemental energies at each other. But while Darkstar’s power was the Darkforce alone, Selene had many other abilities at her disposal, and Darkstar was fading fast against them. Finally, she fell from the sky, her fancy feathered Gala dress in a heap around her, giving her the likeness of a bird that had crashed into a windowpane. There was a roar of fire around her as a ring of enchanted flame encircled her, then formed a dome above her. She tried to teleport, but could not even call upon that much. The Darkforce has closed its doors to you, my dear, Selene’s voice spoke in her head, You are but its friend—I am its QUEEN! Don’t fret though; you won’t be burned unless you try to escape. After all, if Darkstar died, she might remember what happened to Haven the human when she woke up. Selene would need to make some modifications to her memory first. Not normally within Selene’s telepathic abilities, which were in fact relatively minor ones, but sorcery was always a boost. And the enlisted aid of mutants too afraid to say no, of course. Selene sauntered now to the still-imprisoned Haven, who seemed to be awaiting her fate impassively. “No begging? No pleading? I’m almost disappointed by your dignity. Or are you just so purely petrified? I know it can’t be that you’re actually RESPECTFUL enough to hold your tongue in the presence of a goddess,” Selene crooned, “After all, you had no respect when you accepted MY place and title!” “I do beg you not to do this,” Haven said, her brown eyes indeed imploring, “For your sake. You will harm yourself, horribly, if you try to–” “HA!” Selene cut her off with a derisive laugh, tossing her elegant head back so her elaborate necklace jewels gleamed in the fire’s light, “You think those FOOLS on the Quiet Council can imprison ME? They couldn’t even keep me dead!” “We’ll do better,” said a new voice. For the third time, a new player had entered Selene’s scene to save Haven. Or rather, two new players. Haven had been physically silent through the whole ordeal, but she’d been mentally calling out to Ajak and Exodus the entire time. Alas, Exodus and Ajak had become. . .engaged. . .with Sinister in a psychic. . .dispute. . .and Makkari was as telepathically Deaf as she was physically. It was only now that Exodus had things, er, handled, that he and Ajak got the message. Exodus was required to stay behind to keep Sinister contained, but Ajak and Makkari were now free to handle matters for their friend. “Oh, the so-called gods arrive,” Selene seemed unimpressed, “Truth me told, I’m rather pleased to see you. I’ve long wanted to test your mettle against–” She was cut off by a massive energy blast by Ajak. At the same time, Makkari rushed behind Selene as she was blasted backwards, pummeling her rapidly in the back with such strength and speed that even her magically enhanced body buckled. The ebony prison around Haven did the same, slackening and then dissipating entirely, and Haven fell to her knees, drained by the contact with the Darkforce. At the same time, the fire imprisoning Darkstar disappeared, though the Russian could not yet use her powers again. Selene put up a valiant fight; she was no pushover. But the Eternals could manipulate cosmic energy, move at high speeds, lift over 15 tons, and, most importantly, never tire. For all her power, Selene could be worn down. Ajak and Makkari could not. And when the former was spent, by coincidence, she had collapsed right next to Haven. Still conscious, her body now rapidly withering into a crone from the expenditure of energy, she knew she could not win. . .but she could at least do what she had set out to, and to replenish her youth in the process. “No!” Haven cried out as Selene reached for her, “Selene, don’t! It’s dang–” She was silenced as Selene began to sap her energy, and Makkari and Ajak both rushed to intervene. Makkari’s speed was more than adequate to get there before Selene’s skin even made contact with Haven, and yet her incredible strength could not separate them. But it was not Selene who was keeping Haven trapped; it was vice versa. Haven and Selene were both howling, Selene in pain, Haven in sympathy as she tried to free the other woman from her own body. Yet even as Haven successfully pushed her away, Selene’s body continued draining the energy from Haven. Makkari and Ajak could SEE it crackling in the air, linking the women’s bodies. “Help her!” Haven cried out to the confused Eternals, “The demonic energy—it’s too much, it’s going to destroy her from inside–” Ajak and Makkari didn’t exactly understand, and frankly neither of them were inclined to help Selene at all, but Haven’s distress was a motivator if nothing else for Ajak in particular. But. . .what could they do? Not knowing what else to do, Ajak ran to Haven and grabbed her, preparing to get her out of there, away from having to watch whatever was going to happen to Selene. And this turned out to be the correct move. Ajak’s body had moved between the energy streams that had linked the women, and in doing so, had severed them. . .no, not severed them. Ajak’s cosmic energy that fueled her nigh-indestructible body flowed now along the current into Selene just before it disappeared. Even this tiny transfer was a life-saving boost, saving the sorceress and restoring her youth in the bargain. But she was still powerless, on her hands and knees, her head down, unable to even speak, panting in pain on the grass. What was that? Makkari signed, and Ajak relayed it to Haven as always. “I’ll.  ..explain,” said Haven, hesitantly, as if she didn’t wish to, “But first. . .” She knelt beside Selene, placing a steadying hand on her. Selene tried to shrink from her instinctively, like a scared animal, and only ended up collapsing into the lap of her would-be prey. Haven held her gently, trying to comfort her while also keeping the woman’s pride and dignity in mind, “I’m sorry. It’s very unjust to you, isn’t it?” Because Haven knew that, from Selene’s point of view, it likely was. She had never met the former Black Queen before, but Shaw had told her about her extensively, and she’d also been able to garner Selene’s perspective quite well from the things she’d said to her in this encounter. And what she had garnered was that Selene was as locked into her own perspective as Haven had once been in. For which Haven could not blame her; changing one’s mind was hard enough, and Selene had held hers for thousands of years. And it must be such a comforting one; she never questioned her own worth or place in the universe, her reason for being here or the purpose of her long life or the morality of taking the lives of others to sustain it. To step away from that belief.  . .why, it might literally kill her. She was what she was, and Haven loved her. She loved everyone. Which was why she asked the others not to tell the Council about this. Darkstar could not agree. She was dutiful to Krakoa’s laws. But Haven’s request for mercy would also be relayed, she promised. Mantis was fine, as were, of course, Ajak and Makkari. Haven was weakened, but wished to remain at the Gala after Selene was taken away by Exodus. And she did give that explanation to the Eternals. “The thing that lived in me once. . .is gone,” she said, each word a labor, “But some remnants of its power. . .” The Eternals both nodded grimly. She did not continue and they did not urge her to. As for Scorpion and Asp’s contest, the moment Darkstar left, it no longer had a referee, and the spectators swiftly decided they wanted to be PARTICIPANTS instead. It was an absolute disaster and a good time was had by all involved! Oh, and Shaw was er. . .fine. If you care. END

[marveltournaments]

[thelittlestspider]

an excerpt from Friend You Can Keep that i wrote in one sitting wherein peter and ash are in their honeymoon phase, and matt extorts johnny in exchange for staying at his place.

“Johnny, I'm not kicking you out, but you have to crash somewhere else for a few days,” said Peter, matter of fact.

“Why?” asked Johnny, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Because if you don't, you won't get any sleep.”

Johnny blinked. Wait a minute. His eyes widened in understanding.

“So you and Ash?”

Peter smiled. “Yeah.”

His eyes were soft and his smile was dopey. Love looked good on him. Johnny was happy for him, even if his heart panged that he wasn't part of it.

“Y'know, if you guys ever need a third…” Johnny waggled his brows. He half-meant it as a joke, but to his surprise, Peter said, “We'd be happy to have you. But I kind of want him to myself for a while.”

“So you're not mad about me and Ash?” Johnny asked cautiously, afraid to upset this moment of gracious maturity from Peter. But like, he had to know everything was cool before he made any moves here. After all, what if Peter woke up tomorrow deciding to be a jealous maniac again? Though that angry stare was pretty sexy…

Peter looked thoughtful. “We talked about it some the other day.” He swished his coffee around. “Ash loves you, I love you.” Johnny's eyes went big with shock.

“You love me?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Tears welled up in Johnny's eyes as he stood up to kiss Peter, laughing with happiness as he wrapped his arms around his best friend. It was a terrible kiss. Mostly because they couldn't stop smiling. But Johnny wouldn't trade it for the world.

“I love you too,” Johnny said against Peter's cheek. “So, so much it's insane. God, I thought I'd never have this.”

“There's some stuff we need to talk about,” interrupted Peter. Uh oh. Johnny frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. That could mean literally anything.

“Like what?”

Play it cool, Johnny.

“Matt,” Peter said simply.

Johnny groaned, rolling his eyes heavenward.

“Oh my God, don't talk to me about Matt. The man's impossible!” Ugh, the nerve of that man, ruining yet another fine moment in Johnny's life. If the guy wasn't so damn miserable right now, Johnny'd curse him.

Why did everything have to come back to Matt? What did Peter see in him? Sure he was older and kind of sexy, and he had the whole Daredevil lawyer thing working for him, but he was also an asshole who wore grandpa sweaters and messed with Johnny every chance he got. It was like being picked on by an 80 year old grandpa in the body of a 38 year old acrobat.

Johnny could light himself on fire, but he was convinced Matt was actually made of hellfire.

“Uuuugh,” groaned Johnny.

“He's not that bad,” argued Peter.

Peter was blinded by love. He didn't know what he was talking about.

“He's insufferable.”

“You're also insufferable,” pointed out Peter, unhelpfully. Johnny glared at him. Peter stared back at him, unmoved. He sipped his coffee.

One, two, three.

“I guess,” Johnny ground out, “I can get along with Matt. For your sake.” Compromise sucked. Compromise was the enemy of the people.

“Good, because your options are your family, Matt, or Clint.”

Johnny's mouth dropped.

“You wouldn't.”

Peter smirked behind his mug.

“I would.”

Evil, sexy bastard. God, Johnny wanted to kill him. Maybe he could get Ash to run interference.

“Ash can't help you out of this.”

Damn it.

Johnny weighed his options. He could go stay with his family for a few days while Peter and Ash went through their honeymoon phase; con, he'd have zero privacy. Option 2: Clint. Natasha was on a job right now, so Clint might be lonely and appreciate the company. Con: Lucky and Liho wouldn't let him sleep.

Wade was out because of Valentine and Vanessa. Shit. Johnny scrunched his face. He was going to have to suck it up and call Matt.

“I take it back. I hate you.”

“Love you,” Peter said, sweetly.

Fuck his stupid life.

…

“Hey Matt,” started Johnny, already feeling awkward about this.

“Hi Johnny,” answered Matt. His voice was smooth and cool like water. Unbothered. Like Johnny calling was something that happened every day and they hadn't been mortal enemies for the past ten years. He was so weird. Johnny hated him.

“So I have a favor to ask,” Johnny inhaled through his nose, bracing himself. “I need to stay at your place for a few days.”

There was perfect silence on the other end. Matt was surprised. Then after a few moments Matt's stupid, smug voice asked, “What's in it for me?”

“Whadda mean, what's in it for you?” Johnny asked, feeling annoyance wash through him. “You want me to clean for you or something?” He didn't think Matt would be enthusiastic about it, but he didn't think Matt would be this much of an asshole about it either.

“You could help Foggy balance the books.”

“But that could take forever!”

“Take it or leave it.”

Ugh.

“Fine.”

“Then you've got a deal.”

“I hate you. Tell Foggy and Kirsten hi for me.”

That stung Matt a bit. He didn't answer. The dial tone sounded.

Wow, he hung up on him. Johnny didn't know what he expected.

[morgansmornings]

alt

This Meme: Not Accepting Anonymous

Infernal Cheliax (pronounced CHEL-ee-ax) remains one of the most powerful nations militarily in the Inner Sea region. Its control of the Arch of Aroden, the passage between the Inner Sea and the Arcadian Ocean, also gives it a vital role in much of the region's trade. Nevertheless, as important as the nation may be today, it pales in comparison to its former Imperial glories.

Today, in the eyes of most external observers in other parts of the Inner Sea, Cheliax suffers from extreme diabolism and a tyranny which prevent it from truly achieving its full potential. Internal observers, including the new nobility of Cheliax, firmly believe that Asmodeus and Hell serve Cheliax and assist in maintaining the power necessary for Cheliax to assume its rightful role among the leading nations of the Inner Sea.

The Chelish Civil War was a fractious and destructive endeavor. Brother turned against brother, with small tyrants rising to power, promising shelter from the increasingly worsening conditions. These leaders quickly were brought down by others seeking power, or were eradicated by the many diseases that accompany such drawn-out anarchy. As the years stretched into decades, the people of Cheliax became more and more desperate, looking for any possible solution to their national nightmare. The golden dream of Imperial Cheliax long since forgotten, they increasingly turned to darker methods to quell the fighting and restore order. It was one of these darker methods that finally brought a resolution to the fighting, but one that came at a very steep cost.

With no clear victor to the war after decades of terrible fighting, Abrogail of House Thrune signed a pact with the powers of Hell, placing herself and her family under their control. In return she received a number of devils to bolster her forces, and others to assist her as advisors. With their help, she brought the Chelish heartland under her control, which gave her a certain amount of legitimacy.

The empire runs on the backs of fiends now, a perfect machine of hellfire and blood, where morality surrenders to the needs of law and order. It's easy to curse Cheliax as a nation of devil-lovers, but few can argue with the results of their fiend-binding craft. House Thrune, the greatest of its diabolic noble families, has brought the empire under control once more.

That being said, those born of union between Devil and Human are not treated as such that one would think. There are no offering of reverence, no loft positions to be found or held out. No pedestals to be rested upon in the common way the phrase is thought of.

No Tieflings, with rare exception, are often looked upon as lesser than Humans, Gnomes, or even the occasional Elf. Tieflings are treated often as slaves much like the Halflings that are unfortunate enough to live under Chellish ruled lands. And if not pressed into service, are looked upon unkindly or as a criminal element.

Despite this treatment these beings often try to keep to themselves. At least until the regions to the North began fighting against the Ironfang Invasion. The pathetic attempts of pushing further Southwest held at bay to the Chellish Military and those that signed on as mercenaries.

One such gathering had amongst them a Hellspawn Tiefling. Skin red as fire and hair whiter than the snow in the Land of the Linnorms. A functional mute all things considered, she kept her head down and completed the tasks set before her.

Orphaned just after the Invasion forces were pushed back Leyoya grew up in an orphanage in Northern Cheliax. Even as a child she chose to learn rather than be enslaved. An opportunity she was given as a secretive band of Irorian Priest and Monks passed through from Molthune through her village. The company stayed for no longer than three months, but in that time, she learned much. Going so far as to keep their deity's doctrine and learned from their fighters.

To this day Leyoya Eiseth is one of few Tieflings to have found an esacpe from enslavement. Even with the threats of death of an adventuring life.

[coineagle]

Ex-Employees Face Lawsuit for Swiping Swan Bitcoin’s Crucial Mining Code

Key Points

Swan Bitcoin has initiated legal action against former employees for allegedly stealing proprietary mining software.

Tether is accused of severing ties with Swan and aligning with rival business, Proton, formed by the ex-employees.

Swan Bitcoin, a notable Bitcoin (BTC) financial services firm, has taken legal action against its former mining division employees. The firm accuses them of misappropriating its proprietary software to establish a competing business.

Details of the Lawsuit

The lawsuit, lodged in the U.S. District Court for the Central District of California, alleges that the ex-employees stole Swan Bitcoin’s mining software code to form Proton Management. Furthermore, Tether, the issuer of the USDT stablecoin, is accused of assisting in the scheme by cutting ties with Swan and supporting Proton.

Swan alleges that the ex-staff orchestrated a mass resignation, taking key business partners and vendors to undermine Swan’s operations. Swan’s attorneys, in their court filing on September 25th, claimed that the ex-employees planned to steal Swan’s mining business from the inside and cut Swan out from the Tether joint venture.

Role of the Ex-Employees

Swan’s former Head of Business Development, Michael Holmes, is identified as the “ringleader” of Proton. Raphael Zagury, who previously served as Swan’s chief investment officer and head of mining, is now the CEO at Proton. According to Swan, both played pivotal roles in implementing the “rain and hellfire” plan, which aimed to unlawfully acquire Swan’s confidential business information and trade secrets essential for running a Bitcoin mining operation.

Swan was reportedly “blindsided” by a sudden influx of resignation letters from its staff on the 8th and 9th of August. Shortly after, on the 12th of August, Tether informed Swan that Proton would be taking over its mining funding agreement.

Despite the ongoing legal tussle, Swan Bitcoin’s CEO Cory Klippsten noted that the company’s financial services revenue is up and the recent news does not affect their core business.

Swan Bitcoin stated that it would continue to investigate the alleged misappropriation of its proprietary data and trade secrets by former executives and employees. The company is seeking a permanent injunction against Proton to prevent further disruption of its mining operations and is demanding the return of stolen equipment and confidential materials.

[themarvelliteraryuniverse]

“Foreign relations we usually work on in terms of trade, occasionally I do work for them though, looks bad if I start asking them for help when I’m supposed to be the expert. And it’s strange how few people want to talk to Stark these days.” Q pointed out, quite happy to assist in setting up security systems when people asked, though most companies preferred avoiding all help possible for… obvious reasons.

“Vibranium would be good though.” He felt Marcus tugging at his awareness and pointed out they were in the office, but oh the urge to make jokes. “Got any spare?” Marcus asked with a low chuckle.

To distract Logan, Q (rather foolishly) let the next words tumble out of his mouth without having time to think. “I’ll let you take a bike if you take me too. I’ll stay out of the way and then you’re not going to steal my equipment.”

"Guy can't be trusted. Everyone's just starting to realize it." Logan huffed, eyes narrowed slightly like he was thinking about a handful of things Tony had done in the last few years. A running list of all the things Logan would bring to a fight if- when- they finally clashed paths again.

He looked over at the shift in the man, sniffing like he could sense a change. The tone was different. And for a flash, it looked like Q was, too. Someone else. Something else. Logan slowly turned, claws springing out like an open invitation to fuck around and find out.

"You wanna try gettin' this shit off my bones, be my fuckin' guest, kid. But if Hellfire and Brimstone couldn't do it, doubt there's a goddamn thing you can do."

Maybe Q wasn't as fragile as he feared, and whatever the fuck just came out of him had Logan's interest. He'd take Q with him if only to figure out why that otjer part of him set off so many alarm bells in the back of his head.

But he couldn't just say yes. "It isn't stealing. Your director owes me a favor, and this is me cashing it in."