#Wilton place
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#street photography#photographers on tumblr#night time photography#los angeles#Wilton place#santa monica blvd#construction#deconstruction#signage
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Canal , Wilton Place - Harry Kernoff , 1940.
Irish, 1900-1974
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AND I BET $40 SAY THIS WILL BE A COMIC!!!
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i'm gonna get back to writing my bg3 wip eventually but i'm deep into "playing dos:2 very badly 6 years late" rn 😎
#lohsebille really hits all the femslash notes for me#🥹 redhead and 😡 brunette? sign me the fuck up#romanceable character voiced by alix wilton regan? sign me the fuck up!!!!#also it is soooo fun to play “spot the bg3 voice actors” all over the damn place#and i'm forced to confront JUST how well i recognize the timbre of tracy wiles' voice regardless of the accent 🤷♀️
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Fruit Desserts - Marbled Chocolate-Covered Strawberries These fun and delicious marbled chocolate-covered strawberries are made by dipping fresh strawberries into different colored candy melts.
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shido's conspiracy is big: koenkai (supporters associations) in japanese politics
How do you take over Japan, if you're a corrupt piece of shit?
On 11/25, when the Shido's Palace mission starts and you're finally released from captivity in Leblanc, the Modest Housewife in the Shibuya underground mall suddenly becomes the Not-So-Modest Housewife. And what does she tell us?
shido has a what now
What's the "supporters association"? In Japanese, it's a 後援会 kouenkai. From Wikipedia:
Koenkai (後援会, lit. "local support groups") are an invaluable tool of Japanese Diet members, especially of the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). (note: in P5, this is the "Liberal Co-Prosperity Party" or LCP, Shido's original party and the original ruling party.) These groups serve as pipelines through which funds and other support are conveyed to legislators and through which the legislators can distribute favors to constituents in return.
The article is fascinating; do give it a read, as I can't possibly do it justice here. These are massive organisations, and relay vast amounts of cash to their members. They organise endless activities for their members—that meeting at the Wilton Hotel on 5/5 is one. They often require a personal connection to be invited, which is why the Housewife says this to her friend:
... she knows she wasn't invited.
Though koenkai are weaker in modern times, there are many examples of them being involved with corruption; here are a couple.
"The Asahi reported in the mid-1970s that the [koenkai of former Prime Minister Tanaka Kakuei] "virtually controls… agricultural committees, popular welfare committees, election management committees". This thorough penetration of Tanaka's koenkai into all important facets of Niigata's people's lives propelled him into becoming the father figure of the district. After his arrest in 1976 on corruption charges, many of Niigata's residents still expressed deep respect towards him."
"Due to the huge support [former Prime Minister] Takeshita Noboru enjoyed as a result of his koenkai, his electoral district in Shimane came to be known as ‘Takeshita Kingdom'. Despite being embroiled in many political scandals, related to insider trading and corruption (for which he was never charged), Takeshita's immense local support never waned."
so what does this tell us
In short, Shido's conspiracy is not a few corrupt high-level officials. It's not just Shido, Akechi, the SIU Director and those people on the ship. It is a vast organisation.
It recruits people by reputation (remember those five recommendations in the Palace?) from all levels of society—and those recruits then operate as a bloc, networking, doing favours for each other, advancing their mutual interests, connected via a hierarchy to Shido at the top. This is why Shido can control everything.
It also explains why everyone seems to be linked to the conspiracy—including the hapless Principal Kobayakawa. Did you think it was unrealistic for him to be involved? It seems likely that he was just a low-level member of Shido's koenkai.
When Shido needed someone at Shujin to investigate the Phantom Thieves, Kobayakawa was there—because they have people everywhere. A quick phone call from a higher-up in the organisation—the SIU Director, most likely, who we know Kobayakawa speaks to—and he's eating out of Shido's hand. And will do anything he wants....
So Kobayakawa wasn't anybody at all. He wasn't important. He wasn't somehow part of the deep state. He was just one of likely hundreds of thousands of paid-up Shido supporters looking to advance themselves, getting the vote out, and funding the cause.
He was in the right place at the right time. After all, the koenkai got Kobayakawa his job at Shujin. All his hopes for advancement are centred on it:
Because just like the two housewives in the underground mall, and probably like everyone else in the koenkai, Kobayakawa is a desperate social climber, impressed by wealth and fame and power and flashy titles.
I hope he thought it was worth it.
revision history
Click here for the latest version.
v1.0 (2023/10/31)—first posted.
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Your Favorite Martian Headcanons, pt 2 of ?
This time, I'm doing it with Gen 2.
Puff Puff
He's going into therapy now. Gen 1.5 him was an asshole and now he's trying to improve.
He's in a huge situationship with Tig, trying to be better for her, but he kinda doesn't know how.
Despite his job as a waiter, it is better pay than his previous job.
Puff Puff lives with his grandma after she left the nursing home back in 1.5, but he lives there half-time. He leaves when he's either on tour with the guys or if he vanishes since he tends to do that sometimes. He always comes back, though. Surprisingly, he is very protective of his Meemaw.
He's made amends with people he's messed things up with. Him and Deejayne aren't friends but are on civil terms now.
He eventually got back in touch with Wilton (Nerdy dude from gen 1.5) and they talk a lot.
Deejay
Him and Deejayne are still very close! They facetime very often, and Deejayne invites him over during the holidays.
He uses online therapy since it's more in his budget, and he definitely finds YFM to be a therapeutic outlet.
His change of voice was because he got vocal lessons from Puff Puff and Benatar.
He got back in touch with estranged family.
Over the years since gen 1.5, Deejay is no longer the "voice of reason" since the guys all matured more and now the role of being the voice of reason is a little more evenly distributed among the 4 members.
He's still in charge of paying Netflix, though.
Axel
He decided to get buff since constant and structured movements helped him focus on his songs and calmed him down.
He's got folks somewhere, he doesn't know where. But he does know that his number one family is in an RV.
Both him and Puff Puff stopped being too mean to Benatar after he openly expressed a dislike for it.
Over the years, the guys have gotten closer as the four of them matured and understood the need to be more deeply connected in order to be a stronger band. As a result, Axel is more open to talking about how he feels now and encourages his bandmates to do the same.
He's still crummy with emotions, but he tries. He mostly uses the drums to convey his feelings.
He's getting treatment for his herpes back in gen 1.5. He's a lot more responsible with sex now.
Benatar
He actually became more assertive over the years. He's still polite, but he doesn't let anyone disrespect him anymore.
He teaches Axel English work and literary analysis since Axel was unable to finish high school.
He was initially picked on because he was the odd one out in terms of lifestyle. The other three were poor and had physically abusive parental figures in their lives. Benatar had a nice house and was well off, but his mother was emotionally, verbally, and mentally abusive, and his father was around but he wasn't emotionally available for Benatar and would frequently parentify him. This explains his passive and quiet demeanor in the past generations of Your Favorite Martian.
He plays GTA 5 and stops at the redlights, acts nice to everyone, but gets headshots every mission, gold every mission, and he stalks pedestrians at night. Don't worry, he stalks all genders of NPCs at night. He's also terrifyingly good at escaping the cops.
He had Puff Puff sing "Real Girl" for him because he's still too shy to sing a whole song by himself. He hasn't done that since "Jupiter."
In the world where Your Favorite Martian takes place, humans in the human world are presented as works of fiction. In our world, Your Favorite Martian is a cartoon band. In the world of Your Favorite, however, humans are works of fiction. We come in the form of movies, books, and other sources of media. Each person in the world is a work of fiction of some sort. With all that said, Benatar wrote "Real Girl" because of his "fictional" crush on a girl from a movie he watched. The movie was about the girl as the protagonist and her life as a young woman navigating the world of womanhood. Benatar made this song because he knew that the screen was a barrier separating two worlds, hence why he called her a "Real Girl" even though in his world, she is a fictional character.
#yfm#your favorite martian#ray william johnson#axel chains#yfm benatar#benatar yfm#yfm axel#axel yfm#yfm puff puff#puff puff yfm#puff puff humbert#deejay johnson#deejay yfm#yfm deejay
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what if there were two (side by side in orbit)
__
(chapter 1 here)
Chapter 2
September 1998
When Will opens the door to the basement office the next morning, there’s a flurry of activity.
“Thornhill, Virginia,” di Angelo says by way of greeting. He squeezes past, handing Will a map. Will accepts it, his eyes following his new partner’s progress across the office. The dark-haired man drops to a crouch to dig through a drawer in the corner. “Little town, right at the edge of the Shenandoah National Forest,” he continues, his voice muffled. “Place is known for maple syrup, mostly. Tourism. Some very picturesque bed & breakfasts. At least, that’s what the librarian told me when I called.”
“Sounds… nice?” Will says, a little confused. He glances to the clock on the wall, just double-checking. Yes, he’s almost 15 minutes early. Di Angelo has clearly been here for a while already. There’s a bag open on di Angelo’s desk. From what Will can see from where he’s stalled several feet into the office, there are files inside, and a jumble of clothes.
“Oh, it’s lovely,” Di Angelo turns to raise an eyebrow at Will. “Except for the recent string of murders.”
Comprehension dawns, probably a little late. “Oh.” Will blinks, trying to catch up. “How – how many murders?”
Di Angelo stands, running a hand through already messy hair, causing it to stand half on end in a way that somehow makes him look even more attractive rather than insane. “Three in the past two months. The most recent being Sarah Wilton, age twenty-four. Her body was found yesterday morning. But I was looking through some old newspaper articles, and the recent deaths are very similar to a string of murders in the same town fifty years back.”
Di Angelo delivers all of this rapid-fire and Will gazes at him for a moment once he’s stopped speaking, still processing. His gaze drifts to the map he suddenly realizes he’s still holding. “Oh. Okay. So, road trip?”
“Yeah, I thought so,” di Angelo says. He’s stuffing a few more things into his bag, then forcing the zipper closed. “You okay with that? If you’re not ready to go out in the field yet you’re welcome to stay here, take a look at some more files. I don’t mind–”
“No,” Will says immediately, “a road trip sounds great. What do I need?” He’d anticipated possibly being out on some overnight trips, or longer. He’s brought a minimal overnight bag to work today, though it won’t be adequate for a longer excursion.
“Shouldn’t be much,” di Angelo says. He plucks his bag from the desk, makes a fluid turn to grab his coat from the hook on the wall. Will stares, transfixed by the other man’s movements. He registers that he’s still standing in the middle of the only open space in the office, and takes the few steps over to his desk.
“It’s maybe a two-hour drive,” di Angelo is saying. “I just want to take a look around, talk to a few people. We should be back by the end of the day, but I’d take a change of clothes just in case. Oh, here,” he adds, fishing a folded newspaper from the edge of his desk. “You can take a look at that on the way. Ready?”
Di Angelo’s eyes are bright. He looks a little manic. It suits him.
::
A car has already been requisitioned, apparently, and Will follows di Angelo to the parking garage.
“Who’s driving?” Will asks, surveying the line of monochrome sedans and hatchbacks.
Di Angelo stops in his tracks, his gaze a little over-intense. “I drive.”
Okay, then. Will’s a decent driver, but he grew up in a house with too many teenagers and only one vehicle, so he never got into the habit of doing it regularly. That, and he still finds the freeways around DC a little daunting.
“Did you grow up around here?” Will thinks to ask as di Angelo turns off Ninth Street and angles the car towards the freeway entrance.
A brief glance to Will, guarded. “Yeah. Sort of.”
When it seems no further information is forthcoming, Will supplies, “not me. I’m from Texas. Little town with one traffic light. My mom lives near Fort Worth now.”
There’s no response to this. Will decides not to take it personally. He reaches across the dashboard for the newspaper di Angelo handed him earlier. Deaths Shock Small Town reads the cramped headline under the fold.
“Three deaths this year,” Will muses, half to himself. The rest of the article is on page six, just a few short paragraphs. “Seems as if something like that would be bigger news in such a small place. Do they get a lot of murders out that way?”
Di Angelo raises an eyebrow. “I’m willing to bet they don’t.”
Will reads further. “New housing development encroaching on the forest… bodies found with limbs ripped off –” he frowns. “Couldn’t these be animal attacks? This place is right on the edge of a national forest. If this housing development is pushing into established animal habitat…”
“That would be the most logical conclusion,” di Angelo says slowly, eyes on the road.
“But?”
“But…” di Angelo lets it hang for a moment. “The bodies appear to have been gnawed on by human teeth.”
Will grimaces, glancing back to the newspaper. “The article doesn’t mention that.”
“No,” di Angelo allows. “But I have other… sources.”
“The librarian?” Will asks.
There’s a pause as di Angelo changes lanes, passing a slow-moving RV. “It can be helpful to keep an open mind when gathering information,” he says cryptically.
Will glances over the article again, then at the other man. “Local law enforcement asked for FBI assistance?”
Now di Angelo looks a little guilty. “I’ve found, in this job, that often it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” he says carefully.
Will snorts.
“The case sounded like it had potential,” di Angelo says, not quite apologetic. “I figure we’ll drive out, have a poke around, talk to a few people. If nothing pans out, no harm, no foul.”
“Sure,” Will agrees. It’s not as if he’s an expert.
Di Angelo clears his throat. “Have you ever heard of the Shenandoah Strangler, Agent Solace?”
Will raises an eyebrow. “No, I have not.”
“There are some legends in this area – a being only ever seen in the forest. People have reported a creature with horns or antlers, the upper body mostly human, lower half more like a goat.”
There’s a brief silence in the car.
“That sounds… unlikely,” Will says evenly. “Is that what you think is going on here? Some kind of cryptid?”
A shrug. “Only one way to find out.”
Will watches the other man out of the corner of his eye for a moment. He reminds himself that this is his second day on the job. And he does always try to keep an open mind. “Have you encountered other reports of… cryptids? In your work?” Will asks.
Di Angelo doesn’t respond for a moment. He reaches up to nudge the rearview mirror, the tiniest adjustment. He flicks a glance at Will, hesitant. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes,” Will says, decisive.
Di Angelo’s lips twitch into a grin, eyes bright.
::
An hour later Will has learned more about cryptids of the Southeastern and Mid-Atlantic US than he ever would have thought there was to know. The more he listens to his new partner, the more he’s surprised how easily their views align, or at least complement each other. Di Angelo doesn’t come across as gullible, or guileless. He’s sharp and thoughtful. Knowledgeable, but more impartial than anything else. Open to possibilities. And who could argue with that?
The further they drive, the more Will finds himself warming to the other man. The idea of acting as a snitch is repellent in itself. As they begin to pass the exit signs for Thornhill and the impromptu cryptid lecture draws to a close, Will feels a wash of relief that maybe, really, he won’t have to.
They arrive at a trailhead just outside of town, miles of forest stretched out before them. The sun’s been up for a few hours but the air still feels cool here, misty. They’re set to meet someone from the Parks department, reportedly. Will trails behind his partner as di Angelo scopes out the area. Before long, a battered-looking red pickup pulls up, kicking up a cloud of dust in the parking lot.
Di Angelo walks back towards the lot, Will following. An older man exits the truck and begins making his way up the path towards them.
“Morning,” di Angelo calls. “Ranger Blanchette? I’m Agent di Angelo, this is Agent Solace.”
They both shake the ranger’s hand. He’s got thick gray hair and a thicker mustache. He’s shorter than Will, and solid-looking.
“Surprised to see FBI out this way,” says Blanchette, gruff. “From what I understood, sheriff’s office had this investigation all wrapped up.”
Di Angelo chooses not to respond to this. “Thanks for meeting us. Do you mind showing us where Sarah Wilton’s body was found?”
The three of them troop into the woods. It’s not far, just a few minutes down a narrow, uneven dirt trail and then a few yards into damp, mossy forest. Blanchette seems in no particular rush; slow, measured steps down the path. Though they’re not moving at any great speed, Will still manages to stumble several times, and reminds himself to keep all-terrain footwear at work. Di Angelo seems light on his feet somehow, even in dress shoes.
Will has spent most of his life feeling clumsy, too big for his body. Di Angelo and Blanchette are both noticeably shorter than he is, and it makes Will extra aware of all the extra space he occupies, as unreasonable as he knows that is. He grimaces to himself.
“You okay?” di Angelo asks. He’s slowed his own pace as the path widens a little, falling into step beside Will.
“Yeah.” Will shoots him a smile.
Blanchette leads them into a small area bare of trees. “This is where they found her. Not much to see. They cleared the crime scene pretty quickly.”
The ground in the little clearing is more trodden than one might expect, but aside from that, there’s nothing of note. Di Angelo crouches, running his fingers over a patch of flattened moss. “Third death in these woods this year, right?” he says, glancing up at the park ranger.
“Yeah.” The older man pauses, thoughtful. “You see some weird stuff out this way. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard.”
“You ever see anything weird?” di Angelo asks. He sounds cool as anything, but Will can tell he’s dying to hear something juicy.
“Hard to say,” Blanchette hedges, a shifty glance at di Angelo and then Will. “There were some similar murders, a few decades back…”
“One case in 1947, right?” di Angelo says. “Man wandered off the trail, body was found a few days later with a leg gnawed off.”
Blanchette nods slowly. “Yeah, and then a couple of other deaths the following year. Folks say it wasn’t a human that killed them. People seem to think it was some kind of… creature.”
Will stays carefully quiet, taking in this exchange. Di Angelo’s face is impassive, but not judgemental. He’s clearly had similar conversations in the past.
“I thought I saw something, a few times,” Blanchette continues, gazing beyond the clearing where the trees thicken to a nearly-solid wall of lush green. “Something almost human but not quite, you know? Thought I saw it come out of the trees once, near sunset. Long, scraggly hair. Looked like it had horns. It kind of sniffed the air, like a dog would. And then it went back into the woods. Scared the crap out of me to be honest.” He glances at Will who nods sympathetically. “After a while, I figured it was just some kids messing around.”
“That’s interesting,” di Angleo says. “How long ago was that?”
“Couple years.” Blanchette rubs the back of his neck. “Everyone’s got their own weird story out here. Something they’ve seen. My brother swears he once found a dead rabbit with a human tooth in it.”
“Whereabouts?” di Angelo asks.
“All in this general area. There are some caves down over yonder.” Blanchette jerks his chin in the direction of thick brush. “People ‘round here tend to give them a wide berth. These murders’ve got everyone nervous. I’d advise you gentlemen to stay armed, if you’re planning on wandering around out here.”
Will has no argument with this. And he has very little desire to go wandering into caves, mythical creatures or not.
They don’t spend any longer in the woods. Apparently di Angelo has already secured an appointment with the county coroner. Will’s privately impressed that he managed to line all this up before the sun had even properly risen this morning.
“Mind if I put on some music?” di Angelo asks as they return to the car. The radio is on, something mindless and chattery, the volume too low to get the gist of the program.
“Sure, go ahead,” Will agrees, remembering Kayla’s comment about di Angelo’s music choices. He smiles to himself. “Got anything good?”
The other man huffs. “Anything good, he asks,” he mutters to himself, pulling a zippered sleeve of CDs from his bag and popping one into the player.
There’s a sharp buzz of electric guitar and then a hum of bass. Well. Kayla’s right about at least one thing.
“Nine Inch Nails,” di Angelo says, glancing over at Will.
Will grins. “Yeah, I’m familiar. A little emo, don’t you think?” he asks the other man – because he’s quickly realizing that there’s something about di Angelo that makes Will want to tease him mercilessly. He won’t, though. Probably.
“Emo,” di Angelo rolls his eyes. “And what do you listen to? Top Forty?”
Will laughs. “Rude. And yeah, sometimes.”
“Should’ve known.” Di Angelo’s eyes are on the road, a smile playing on his lips.
Will shrugs. “I listen to a bit of everything.” With five kids in a small house, there hadn’t been much space to be picky about music choices. “Lots of show tunes lately. A few Disney soundtracks,” Will adds, nonchalant, glancing over for a reaction. He’s not disappointed.
Di Angelo’s brow creases. “Show tunes,” he says, flat. “Like Cats?”
Will shrugs. “Not recently. I’ve been listening to a lot of Rent. And the score from The Little Mermaid is pretty flawless.”
Di Angelo shakes his head, slow. “I’m requesting reassignment as soon as we get back to DC.”
Will laughs, loud. “You could. You might just end up with something worse, though.” He gazes out at the woodland flashing past the window, weak sunlight just starting to catch the bright yellows of the changing leaves. “It’s my turn to choose the music, next road trip,” he adds. He enjoys di Angelo’s cringe immensely.
::
Will’s been feeling a little lost all morning, wanting to make a good impression, eager to prove he’s more than just a tagalong. It’s a bit of a relief to get to the coroner's office. Here, at least, he’s in his element.
The coroner is a tired-looking, bespectacled man. He’s probably only about a decade older than Will, but with the posture of someone who’s been carrying the weight of the world for a good few years. “They say animals can develop a taste for human flesh, but this was no animal,” he tells them, pulling on gloves and reaching for the sheet covering the body.
Will moves closer. White female, 20s, healthy-looking aside from being dead and missing most of her right leg and a portion of flesh at her shoulder. He glances at di Angelo, who’s standing several steps back, paler than Will’s seen him. “You okay?” Will asks under his breath. The other man nods, tight.
“You see these teeth marks, just below the clavicle?” the coroner asks. “Those sure look human to me.”
Will inspects the marks, a semi-circle of dark red imprinted into ghost-white flesh. “Yeah, that’d be my conclusion, too. What was the cause of death?”
“Blood loss, as far as I can tell,” the coroner says. “She was likely still alive while her leg was eaten off.”
::
They pause outside the coroner’s office, neither of them rushing into conversation. Nico leans back against the warm brick of the building, closing his eyes and taking in a deep lungful of fresh air. He’s lightheaded, clammy.
The smell of morgues, the artificial chill in the air – no matter how many times he revisits these scenarios, even years later, his mind always goes right back to Bianca, identifying her body after the crash. His body remembers, even when his mind tries to push it down. It doesn’t help that this victim was a young woman, close in age to his sister when she died. He takes another breath, trying to force himself to feel less like vomiting. Or crying.
“Not crazy about corpses?” comes Solace’s voice.
Nico attempts to unclench his jaw enough to answer. “Morgues, mostly. Can’t get used to them.”
There’s kind concern in Solace’s blue eyes, a crease to his brow. And the sentiment isn’t unappreciated, exactly. Solace seems like a decent guy. But the fact of the matter remains that everything is so much simpler when Nico works alone. When there’s no one here he needs to explain himself to.
Solace’s gaze lingers. “You’re definitely not the only one. Anyway, that’s what I’m here for, right?” He offers Nico a shadow of a smile that Nico can’t quite return.
Solace turns his gaze to the street before them, propping himself up against the wall next to Nico without further comment, not making any move to rush them back to the car. After a long moment, Nico levers himself upright. He scrubs a hand over his face. Solace follows, unhurried.
“You know, I think I’d be willing to gnaw someone’s leg off in exchange for a coffee right about now,” the taller man says thoughtfully, and Nico barks out a laugh, surprised. Solace turns, a sunny, toothy grin.
“Or at least chew on a clavicle,” he amends.
Nico feels his own face relax into something that’s almost a smile, feels the ache of grief fading into the background again. Solace has really nice teeth, Nico thinks suddenly. White and straight, except for one slightly crooked lateral incisor. Nico’s struck by the bizarre thought that those teeth look like they probably could gnaw on a clavicle. He finds himself horrified and intrigued in equal measure.
“Coffee sounds good,” he says.
::
“So what’s next?” Solace asks as they make their way back to the car, coffee in hand.
“Not sure.” Nico unlocks the doors, settling his coffee in the cup holder and flipping his phone open. No new messages. “I tried calling a couple of the previous victims’ families this morning, but I couldn’t get a hold of anyone. I guess we could try going by their residences.”
He reminds himself, not for the first time today, that he’d better play this one by the book. He has a feeling Solace’s field reports will be scrutinized more carefully than he’d like.
There’s quiet as they both buckle in. Solace looks like he’s chewing on something. “You’ve got copies of the police reports from the victims this year,” he begins, sounding hesitant. “Do you think the sheriff’s office would have the autopsy records for the historical victims?”
Nico shoots Solace an approving look. “That’s an excellent idea.”
A tentative smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Nico agrees, anchoring his hand on the back of the passenger seat as he reverses out of the parking spot. That’s perfect, a logical next step. And he didn’t even need to plan it out himself.
Nico glances at his new partner. That look on his face, it’s… relief.
Nico merges back into traffic, taking a moment to make sense of this. It’s almost as if Solace is worried about what Nico thinks of him.
That’s surprising, somehow. Unexpected, at least. Solace is smart and easy to talk to and he wants Nico’s approval. Is it possible Reyna sent the wrong agent downstairs?
Logically, Nico should be suspicious. It’s not an act, though, he’s pretty sure. Nico doesn’t love putting his profiling skills to work on a personal level, but Solace is an open book, emotions painted clearly across his freckled face. And Nico hasn’t exactly conducted extensive polling, but when he ran into a buddy from Violent Crimes in the cafeteria yesterday, the guy had nothing but good things to say about Solace.
Nico finds, occasionally, that friends and acquaintances will expect him to have particular insight into their psyches. It’s so far from the truth that it’s laughable. Nico’s much more adept at piecing together the motivations of serial killers than navigating the complexities of the people right in front of him. And he’s even less interested in examining his own interiority.
Solace told him, yesterday, that he just wants to do good work. Well. That’s something Nico can help with.
“You’re already thinking like a special agent,” he tells Solace, his voice coming out warmer than he meant it to. He clears his throat.
Solace huffs, looking pleased at this. “I’m not feeling very special yet.”
Nico shrugs. “That’ll come.”
::
The ease of their day ends at the sheriff’s office. Deputy Tait is another sturdy old white guy, unfortunately possessing none of the chill of the park ranger they met this morning.
“You don’t have any jurisdiction here,” Tait says, impatient. His face is several shades redder than when they arrived, Nico notes with some interest. “No one contacted the Bureau. I don’t even know how you heard about this incident, but there’s no reason for the FBI to be involved. Woman wandered off a trail at night, got mauled by a panther. I don’t know what you two think you’re going to find here!” His voice rises, and several heads turn in the vicinity.
Solace seems to shrink in on himself a little, but this is familiar territory for Nico.
“Look,” Nico says, still as calm as when they walked in twenty minutes ago, “I’m sure you’re right. We’re not looking to cause trouble. Just let us take a look at the case files and we’ll be out of your hair.”
Nico waits patiently as the sheriff regards him with acute exasperation. Finally, the older man lets out a noisy breath. “Fine. Come back in an hour and I’ll see what I can do.”
Nico glances towards the empty file room and the woman sitting at the desk inside with a crossword spread out in front of her. She meets Nico’s eye and shrugs.
“Thanks so much for your help,” Nico says, trying hard not to roll his eyes.
“And don’t go making a spectacle of yourselves around town,” Tait adds irritably. “We got tourists coming from all over the county this weekend and we don’t need FBI poking around and scaring them off.”
::
Nico’s still hoping to speak with the previous victims’ families, but no one answers when they try knocking on doors. He hasn’t been able to obtain contact information for anyone who might have been acquainted with Sarah Wilton.
Some time later, Nico’s seated beside his partner on a park bench near the center of town, both of them having acquired canned drinks and hot dogs from a cart nearby. The sun filters through the trees above, dappling the yellow leaves beginning to pile up on the grass at their feet. The smell from the hot dog cart is mouth-watering, and the hot dogs are perfect; lightly charred and nestled in fresh, fluffy buns.
Solace groans in appreciation around his first bite. “Oh my god this is so good.”
Nico nods in agreement, mouth full. He shoots a glance to his partner, who’s looking blissful, still chewing. “Um. You have mustard on your nose,” Nico says.
“Oh. Fuck.” Solace grimaces, fishing in his pocket for a paper napkin and then scrubbing at his nose. He turns, looking mildly abashed, freckled cheeks and nose tinged pink. “Better?”
And it would be overwhelming looking at anyone at such close range, wouldn’t it? Nico glances away quickly. He nods. “Yeah. Got it.”
“You still thinking cryptids?” Solace asks. He cracks open his Coke and pops a straw into the can.
Nico glances over, still half-expecting to see disdain or impatience on the other man’s face. But there’s only curiosity. It’s unnerving. Nico finds himself relaxing a little more each time it happens.
He shrugs. “I’m open to the possibility.” He gazes off into the distance, cars zipping by on the street ahead of them, a whole town full of people going about their business as if there isn’t a potential murderer lurking in the woods.
“It’s a nice little town,” Solace says.
Nico nods in agreement. Red brick buildings, a pretty town square edged with well-tended flowerbeds. People lunching on patios and on the grass in the afternoon sunshine. The kind of quaint little place city people like to escape to, especially at this time of year when the leaves are changing. They’d seen several signs advertising harvest festivals and craft shows on their drive out.
“Reminds me of the place my little brother went to college,” Solace offers.
And Nico knows it’s not meant as anything more than an offhand remark, just idle conversation, but he feels his jaw tightening.
“Those files should be ready by now,” Nico says, standing and crumpling the foil from his hot dog.
Solace stays seated a moment longer, blinking up at him. Then he follows. “Yeah. Lead the way.”
::
The files aren’t yet ready, as it turns out, and they pause outside the sheriff’s office.
“Looks like this might be a little more than a day trip,” Solace comments with a glance at his watch.
“Yeah,” Nico agrees. “Not sure why they’re making us wait if they’re so eager to get us out of town. Might be an overnight stay, though. Are you okay with that? If you’ve got someone expecting you home, you could always head back,” he says, suddenly realizing he hasn’t the vaguest idea what the other man’s personal life might entail.
But Solace shakes his head. “No, I’m good. I’ll give my sister a call later and let her know. We share an apartment.”
Okay. He has a sister. And an apartment. And the brother he mentioned earlier. That’s… useful information to have, Nico supposes.
“What about you?” Solace asks. “You have someone at home? A girlfriend?”
Nico snorts. “No.” He unlocks his door, then reaches over to pop the passenger side lock.
And Nico doesn’t know why he feels the need to elaborate, but the words are out of his mouth before he has a chance to overthink it, tumbling into the sun-warmed car as Solace reaches for his seatbelt. “I um. I have fish,” he says.
Solace pauses, seatbelt pulled halfway across his chest. “Fish?”
Nico feels his face warming, the embarrassment and discomfort of being known, even a little. He knows it’s stupid, but that’s what he is. “I have pet fish. At home.”
“Oh. Nice.” Solace looks unreasonably pleased at this.
“I get my sister to feed them if I’m going to be out of town for a while,” Nico continues, for some unknown reason still talking, “but they should be fine for a couple of days.”
“You have a sister too,” Solace says, far too curious.
“Yeah.” Nico turns from the other man abruptly, puts the car in reverse and backs out of the parking space. For good measure, he turns the CD player back on and bumps the volume up.
::
With no luck in contacting the victims’ families and without any joy from the sheriff’s office, di Angelo suggests the library – a scan through old newspapers on the off-chance there’s some insight to be gained there. Will agrees easily. He slowly feels as if he’s getting his legs under him, checking off boxes, following the trajectory of the mystery. He’d been worried he’d feel like he was in the way – di Angelo is surely accustomed to working alone – but the other man doesn’t seem to mind the company, as long as Will refrains from asking any personal questions.
Di Angelo pulls a film sheet off the microfiche reader, sliding it carefully back into its envelope.
“No luck in January 1948?” Will asks. He leans back, rubbing at tired eyes.
Di Angelo shakes his head, pressing a hand to his mouth. Will raises an eyebrow and the other man grimaces. “These things make me queasy,” he mutters.
“Take a break,” Will says, firm. “Pass me the next month and if I find anything, I’ll read it to you.”
But aside from the few short articles di Angelo had in his archives back at the office, there’s nothing. Most of the news from February 1948 is about new, post-war housing being built at the edge of the town. It’s strange.
Di Angelo’s phone buzzes, and he stands, digging in his coat pocket. He glances around at the other library patrons, walking quickly out into the hall as he answers, his voice low. He’s back only a minute later, looking frustrated.
“Everything okay?” Will asks.
“Reyna,” di Angelo mutters. “She’s not happy that we came out here without prior authorization. Sheriff called the Bureau. Reyna wanted us back immediately. I convinced her to let us stay until tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Will says, taking a moment to process. “Reyna. The assistant director. You’re on a first name basis with her?” Ramirez-Arellano hasn’t struck him as the sort of person who’s on a first-name basis with anyone.
Something shutters in di Angelo’s expression. “Oh. I guess.” He turns back to the case of film sheets on the table beside them.
“Care to elaborate?” Will asks, curious.
“No.”
Will resists the urge to tease, though it’s a close thing. “Are we in hot water?” he asks instead.
Di Angelo scrunches his nose.
Cute, Will thinks, involuntary, then inappropriate his brain tells him, louder. What is with him. All he can think is to blame it on Kayla. He never would have considered this man in anything but a professional capacity without her interference.
“Probably not,” di Angelo says slowly. “Reyna’s under a lot of pressure from her bosses. She knows my hunches usually pay off. And I solve cases. Besides, you should be okay.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “You’re new.”
Will bites back a smile. “I’ll just tell her you’re a bad influence.”
Di Angelo shoots him a grin. “Exactly.”
::
There’s a young man waiting near their car when they exit the library, and the two agents exchange a glance as they approach him. He’s thin, mouse-brown shaggy hair brushing the shoulders of a threadbare checked shirt. He watches the two men as they approach, looking like he might run if they get too close. Will’s struck by the thought that the guy looks like someone his father would cross the street to avoid.
Apollo’s mouth, twisted in distaste: “don’t give them any money”. The thought makes Will’s jaw clench and his stomach ache. He has no desire to examine that any further at the moment. Luckily, he doesn’t have to.
“Are you the FBI agents?” the man asks once they’re close enough for conversation.
Di Angelo nods. “We are. I’m Agent di Angelo and this is Agent Solace.”
“I’m Billy Wilton,” he says, holding out his hand. “Sarah Wilton’s brother.”
Billy looks as if he could use a good meal even more than di Angelo, Will thinks. Di Angelo must be thinking along the same lines, because ten minutes later he’s led them to a nearby diner, and the three of them are seated in a red vinyl booth. Di Angelo waves off the younger man when he tries to reach for his wallet.
“Thanks for taking the time to talk to me,” Billy says. “The police didn’t want to. They told me the case was closed, it was an animal attack. I just want to make sure someone knows about Sarah, you know?” He drops his gaze and Will feels a surge of sympathy for the young man.
“Why don’t you tell us about her,” Will says, gentle.
“Sarah was my big sister. She loved the woods,” Billy begins. “When we were kids, we used to go exploring there all the time. She used to tell me ghost stories, stories about half-humans living in caves there.”
Will glances over at his partner, half-expecting the cryptid-fervor back in his gaze again. But there’s only sadness there.
“She was a good sister,” Will says softly.
“Yeah. She was. Our family lived out in the trailer park – until they closed it down to make room for the new housing development, anyway. In high school… well. Our family never fit in. There’s a lot of money here, and we didn’t have that. But Sarah always made me feel like I fit in,” Billy continues, twisting a paper napkin in his fingers. “We were always a team. Then after high school… she kind of got mixed up with the wrong crowd, I guess you could say.” He glances up, looking guilty. “You might have seen that, if you read the police report. She was a good person, though.”
Di Angelo nods. “She’d gotten involved in drugs. Sex work. Is that right?”
Billy nods, his gaze darting back to the table. “Maybe she was killed by an animal, I don’t know. But I couldn’t help feeling the sheriff just wrote her off. Because…” he trails off.
“Because she didn’t act the way she was supposed to,” Will says quietly.
Billy nods.
“Do you know of anyone who would have wanted to hurt Sarah?” di Angelo asks.
Billy lets out a long breath. “Honestly? We hadn’t been in touch as much over the last year or so. But no. I don’t think so.”
::
“Poor kid,” di Angelo says, gruff, as they get back into the car.
“Yeah,” Will agrees. He thinks about the shadows under Billy’s eyes, the way he’d cleaned every crumb from his plate.
Di Angelo puts the key into the ignition and then pauses, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That’s the hardest part of this job. All the people left behind. Sometimes I can find answers for them, and sometimes…” he shrugs.
“All you can do is your best, right?” Will says, soft.
Di Angelo nods, gazing out the window. “You never really forget any of them. Not the ones we help and not the ones we don’t.”
There’s a long pause wherein Will tries to piece together the right kind of reassurance. He comes up empty-handed.
“Anyway.” Di Angelo clears his throat, starting the car, “we should go see our good friend Deputy Tait.”
Finally, the historical files are waiting for them, but they’re frustratingly sparse. Bare-bones, autopsy reports nowhere to be found. There are a few witness testimonies, really not anything more than what they already learned from the park ranger, vague reports of sightings of a creature in the woods near where the bodies were found.
An hour later, squinting in the low light of the small office they’ve grudgingly been provided with, and di Angelo sighs, pushing his chair back. He turns to Will, looking tired and a little regretful. “I might’ve dragged us all the way out here for nothing.”
Will shrugs. He’s not going to start complaining on his second day. “It’s not a problem. You never know unless you try, right? Besides, I need to get my field legs under me,” Will adds. “Probably better with something like this than a super high-stakes chase through the city. You know, scaling brick walls, running after perps.”
Di Angelo huffs. Will shifts in his chair, the gun at his hip digging into his skin. His hand drifted to it, almost subconsciously.
“You don’t like the gun,” di Angelo states, a bit out of nowhere.
Will makes a face, twitching his suit jacket back over his hip. “I don’t love it,” he admits.
Di Angelo nods, thoughtful.
“I do know how to use it,” Will feels the need to add, and the other man offers him a faint smile.
“I wasn’t suggesting otherwise.”
“I’m trained in medicine,” Will continues, feeling as if he needs to defend himself, though he’s been given him no indication that this might be necessary. “I spent a lot of time learning how to save people. Sometimes from this.” He gestures to his hip where the gun is hidden by his jacket.
“Makes sense.” di Angelo gazes at Will for a moment, contemplative. “I don’t love it either, I guess. But it’s a tool. It’s good to have when you need it.”
Di Angelo’s gaze lingers on his face for just a moment longer, a quiet intensity, and Will looks away, feeling his cheeks warm. He reminds himself that di Angelo is experienced in psychological profiling, one of the best in the business. He suddenly feels too exposed.
“So what’s next?” Will asks, eager to change the subject.
::
They both settle into their motel rooms after bidding each other goodnight. Nico pores over his notes. Something isn’t adding up. The sheriff seems way too eager to sell this as a simple animal attack. And then there are the missing autopsy reports. Tomorrow they’ll head back to DC, and the mystery will be lost forever.
He pushes away from the small table, restless and twitchy, not nearly tired enough to sleep. He glances at the TV. He could find something to watch. Or go for a run.
Or he could head back into the woods.
Nico gathers his things quickly, pulling his coat back on and closing the door behind him. Then he stands in the near-dark, conflicted. Because there’s no need to bother his new partner with this, right? The work day is long over. Solace is probably asleep anyway. And Nico’s made similar excursions on his own countless times.
Nico heaves a sigh, stepping a little further from the moths fluttering around the exterior lights of the building. Plans for wandering alone into possibly-creature-infested woods are the kind of thing one should probably share with a partner, when one has had a partner assigned.
It’s late now, almost eleven. Nico decides that he’ll leave a note, if Solace has already gone to bed. But as he nears the door, he can see light filtering through gauzy curtains.
A soft knock at the door and Solace answers just a moment later, surprise on his freckled face. He’s got glasses on, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows. His blond curls are mussed, a frizzy halo in the half-light seeping from the motel room. He looks taller in the near-dark, if that’s even possible. It shouldn’t be. He’s not even wearing shoes.
Nico shakes himself internally. Focus. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, I was just writing up my field report. Should have gotten to it earlier, but there was a good episode of Star Trek on,” Solace grins, easy. He seems like the kind of guy who’s easy with everyone. He’s even easy with Nico. Nico’s never been easy for anyone. He’s certainly not about to start now. Not for all the six-footedness and blond curls and toothy grins in the world.
“I just wanted to let you know, I’m gonna head back to the woods where we met the park ranger,” Nico says.
Solace blinks, owlish behind his glasses. “Right now?”
“Yeah. I can’t sleep. I just want to go take another quick look around before I turn in.”
There’s a beat, and then Solace says, “I’ll come with.”
“No, you don’t have to. I just wanted to let you know where I was –”
“What, in case you turn up missing a leg tomorrow?” Solace asks over his shoulder, dry. “Let me grab my coat.”
::
The drive back to the woods is quiet; no music playing, di Angelo not offering much in the way of commentary. Will gazes out the passenger window at the darkened houses. There’s next to no traffic at this time of night, especially once they leave the town limits and head into rolling hills and woodland.
“So, what are we looking for?” Will asks as they step out into the cool night air.
“Maybe nothing,” di Angelo says, “but most of the sightings of this creature have occurred around this time of night. It can’t hurt to take a look around.” His eyes are serious as he turns to Will. “Just stay alert.”
Will doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s got his gun holstered and his flashlight lit as they walk towards the trailhead. The crunch of leaves and gravel underfoot seems unnaturally loud.
It’s weirdly quiet and still, and it remains so as they make their way through the woods to the place Sarah Wilton’s body was found. It puts Will on edge, like the trees are closing in on them. They pause in the small clearing they visited earlier in the day.
“I don’t think I want to go too much further into the woods. We’ll lose the trail,” di Angelo murmurs after a moment. Will is privately relieved. He’s glad di Angelo hadn’t decided to come out here alone, but before the other man had shown up at his door, Will had been making important plans involving a hot shower and the vending machine he’d seen beside the reception desk.
They wait, flashlights trained on the ground in front of them.
“Flashlights off?” Will says after a moment, quiet. “We’re not going to sneak up on anything like this.”
Di Angelo nods, and they flick the beams off. The silence is eerie, pressing in on Will’s ears, but at least the moon is bright, and after a few moments Will’s eyes adjust and he can see the contours of the landscape. Trees loom over them, moonlight filtering into the small clearing.
Will glances at di Angelo. He’s alert, watchful, scanning the trees around them. But as time passes, even his fervor starts to fade.
Will is just about to suggest that they head back when there’s rustling off to the left. Will resists a gasp at the sudden noise, his heart picking up speed. Both men turn in unison, silent. Will’s hand goes to his gun, a similar motion from the man next to him.
Will’s barely breathing, primed by the stories of cryptids di Angelo shared on the drive out, and honestly off-balance from being in this situation at all. Most of the fieldwork he’s been involved in have involved people who were most certainly already dead. Not… potentially going to be murdered very shortly.
There’s movement among the trees. Will’s definitely not imagining it, nor the way his partner tenses beside him. Will’s hand tightens on his gun, his eyes straining into the darkness.
There’s still and quiet again, long enough that Will feels he’s finally able to take a full breath – but then there’s the distinct snap of a twig and the movement of branches, too close.
Whatever’s moving in the trees looks human, but… not. Will feels a shiver run down his spine at the unreality of it. It’s walking on four legs, but it doesn’t look like any animal Will’s ever seen. It moves parallel to them, loping through the underbrush, a weird, uneven gait. Then it stops to sniff the air and torturously slowly, turns to face them where they stand in the clearing.
Will’s mouth go dry. Di Angelo’s still as a statue beside him, the three of them motionless in the moonlit woods. For an interminable moment, they gaze at each other.
The creature slowly stands, rising to two legs and looking much more human now, except the short, curly horns growing from the crown of its head, just barely visible in the cool moonlight. It’s head has an odd shape, distinctly not human, and the dissonance makes Will’s skin tingle.
The creature surveys the two of them for a long moment before continuing on its path, moving deeper into the woods.
Will let out a long breath. He and di Angelo turn to each other, and Will thinks that his expression must mirror the other man’s – half terrified, half amazed.
“Seen enough?” Will asks weakly.
Di Angelo beams at him. “Holy fuck. Yeah.”
Will laughs, mostly at the expression on the other man’s face, feeling more than a little awestruck himself.
“Did that look human to you?” asks di Angelo once they’re back in the safety of the car.
“I don’t know what to think. Whatever – or whoever that was… they certainly match the description from the park ranger.” Will shakes his head slowly. “So what now? We alert the sheriff’s department?”
Di Angelo nods, his eyes on the road. “Yup. They’ll want to search the woods and surrounding area again.”
It’s nearly three in the morning by the time they pull back into the motel parking lot, and Will decides to forgo the shower in favor of a bag of Hickory Sticks and then bed. He sleeps hard and dreamless, waking to a brisk rap on his door and sunlight already pouring in the window.
Will stumbles across the room and squints into the peephole to see di Angelo fully dressed and looking tense.
“Give me a minute,” Will calls, quickly shedding his t-shirt and sweats in favor of the same dress pants and shirt he wore yesterday. It’s a good thing they’re planning on heading back today, because he really hadn’t packed for a prolonged stay.
Will unlocks the door. Di Angelo is pacing on the walkway. “They shut us out,” he says, before Will can open his mouth to speak.
“They – what?”
“They shut us out,” the other man repeats, angry. “Fucking NSA. They’ve got the whole area barricaded, I couldn’t get in there, couldn’t even get anyone to talk to me. They threatened to arrest me and they gave me an armed escort back to the main highway.”
Will frowns, bewildered. “But - why NSA? Do they think this is some kind of threat to national security?”
Di Angelo throws his hands up. “Beats me. No one’s talking. I’ve got a call in to Reyna and I’m heading to the sheriff’s office now. You coming?”
Will’s already nodding. “Yeah. Of course. Can – can I brush my teeth first?”
Di Angelo’s expression softens, marginally. “Yeah. Of course.”
They gaze at each other for a beat. “Here. Come in.” Will opens the door wide, stepping back. The other man enters, dropping into a chair. He’s still there when WIll exits the washroom, feeling a little more human after having taken the time to shave and splash some water on his face.
“Sorry,” the other man says. “For barging in –”
“No, it’s fine, I was…” Will hesitates. “Okay, I was sound asleep, but it’s fine.”
Di Angelo huffs out a laugh. “Coffee? To make up for waking you?” He holds up a styrofoam cup, clearly from the coffee maker on the desk.
Will’s face must betray his relief, because di Angelo laughs. “What do you take?”
“Oh, um. A sugar and a creamer. Thanks.” Will stands there awkwardly as the other man prepares his coffee. Di Angelo takes care to secure the white plastic lid before handing it to Will.
“Cheers,” Will says, and they awkwardly bump their styrofoam cups together. Their fingers brush and the swoop in Will’s stomach catches him off-guard. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again as he realizes he has no idea what he was going to say.
Then di Angelo gives him a nod and leads the way out to the parking lot. Will follows, giving his head a shake.
::
Deputy Tait meets them at the front desk of the station. “I had nothing to do with this,” he says, raising his hands in surrender, maybe taking in di Angelo’s fierce expression. “I reported what y’all saw last night, and next thing I know we’re overrun with feds.”
In this instance, Will’s inclined to believe the sheriff. If anything, he hadn’t wanted more attention drawn to the matter.
Di Angelo nods, deflating. “What can you tell us?”
“Not much,” Tait admits. “They’ve been searching the woods for a few hours. Last I heard they were gonna blow up a couple of caves on the north angle.”
Will isn’t the only one surprised with the fact, and di Angelo sounds aghast. “They’re blowing them up?”
“Seems they got a hold of whatever animal’s been causing these deaths. They killed it on sight, and they want to make sure there aren’t any others.”
Di Angelo curses under his breath, then turns on his heel. Will thanks the deputy before following the other man back out to the car.
Di Angelo is standing beside the sedan, eyes on the mountain range, his jaw tight. There’s smoke rising in the distance, silhouetted against a haze of green forest.
“Fucking cowboys,” he seethes. He turns to Will. “You saw what I saw, right? That wasn’t any kind of animal.”
WIll hesitates. “It was dark, and I didn’t get a great look at it, but… no. It didn’t look like an animal.”
Di Angelo scrubs a hand over his face. “What happened to discovery? What happened to curiosity? Living in harmony with nature? No. Instead we have to blow up what we don’t understand.”
Will stays quiet, eyes on the horizon, an ache in his chest.
Di Angelo’s gaze flicks over to him. “Don’t get me wrong,” he says, quieter. “I get that they had to do something. But is this the solution?” He waves a hand towards the woods, frustrated.
“It’s not as if this creature, whatever it was – was coming into town looking for victims,” Will agrees. “The deaths only happened once humans started invading its territory.”
“Yeah.” The other man regards the smoke in the distance for another moment. “Reyna’s expecting us back,” he mutters after a long moment. “We should pack up.”
They return to the motel, retrieving their few possessions and preparing to leave town. Di Angelo looks truly defeated.
“Hey,” Will says over the top of the sedan, “I can drive, if you want.”
Di Angelo regards him, inscrutable. “No. That’s okay. Thanks, though,” he says, finally.
Will watches the other man as he hefts his bag into the back seat.. “Why don’t we make one more stop before we head out?”
::
Billy WIlton’s place is on the way out of town anyway, as it turns out. The mansions and wide lawns gradually fade to smaller, post-wartime houses, close together, sagging roofs and crumbling staircases.
Billy’s sitting on his front porch when they pull up in front of the house, and he rises to greet them. He’s already heard the news, or at least some of it.
“I’m so sorry,” di Angelo tells him, “NSA’s shut us out now and the Bureau wants us to leave it alone. There’s really not much else we can do. But whatever killed your sister, it’s gone. I hope that brings some closure, at least.”
Will thinks Billy looks calmer than he did yesterday, something settled in his expression. So there’s that.
He nods in understanding. “I’m glad you came by. I wanted to thank you again.”
Di Angelo shakes his head. “We really didn’t do anything.”
Billy shrugs. “You let me talk about Sarah. It helped. I appreciate your time.”
Will thinks his partner looks almost tearful for a moment. Then he seems to collect himself, reaching out to shake Billy’s hand. “Take care of yourself,” he says.
Billy nods, reaching out to shake Will’s hand, too. “Safe drive.”
::
Will gazes out the window as di Angelo guides the car onto the highway. The day’s turned wooly and overcast, iron-grey clouds hanging thick and low over red-yellow foliage.
“That was a bust,” di Angelo says after a long silence. He sounds exhausted.
“I wouldn’t say that. Billy Wilton was grateful. We helped at least one person.”
“Maybe.”
“You showed me my first cryptid,” Will offers.
Di Angelo glances over, almost smiling. “Yeah? Is that what you’re gonna write in your field report?”
“Something to that effect. Apparent humanoid creature, didn’t resemble an animal, horned, oblong head, four-legged gait.”
“Well sure, when you put it that way,” di Angelo mutters.
Will laughs.
They ride in silence for the next few miles, a far cry from the treatise on cryptids Will was subjected to on the drive out. He glances over at the other man.
“So, Agent di Angelo. How’d you get interested in this field in the first place?” Will asks, fully expecting not to have to say much for the next twenty minutes.
The other man lets out a long breath. “It was a bit of a hobby, when I was a kid. You know. Paranormal… stuff.” There’s a long pause. “And then I became aware of the X-Files when I started at the Bureau. Transferred over from Violent Crimes when the opportunity presented itself.” He falls silent.
“That’s a good story,” Will says, when the silence continues to stretch and the road continues to disappear under their tires. “Detailed and compelling.“
Di Angelo huffs. “How about you?” he asks after a long moment. “You were in med school, before the Bureau snagged you. How’d you end up there?”
Will takes a second, considering his answer. “Hard work. A few scholarships, too many part-time jobs. Lots of sleepless nights and no social life to speak of. My dad could have helped a lot more than he did, but…” Will shrugs.
Di Angelo shoots him a sympathetic look.
“It’s kind of the family business, I guess. My dad’s a doctor. His dad too. It was what everyone expected. I kind of found myself in the middle of it before I’d properly thought it through.”
“Those things are hard to back out of, once you’re committed,” di Angelo says, quiet.
“No kidding,” Will sighs. “I did think I wanted to practice medicine, for a while. And then I didn’t. And then the FBI came calling, and that seemed like a good opportunity. Two years at Quantico, and then I got shuffled over to sit in a car with you listening to –” Will grabs the CD case from the dashboard. “Green Day.”
Di Angelo huffs. “At least you got the last part right.”
Will laughs. They fall back into silence, though it’s briefer this time, maybe lighter.
“You grew up in Texas,” di Angelo says, out of nowhere.
“Yeah, I did,” Will says, surprised at the unprompted query. “Carleton. Sixty miles from just about any kind of civilization. Three brothers, one sister.”
“That must have been nice,” di Angelo says. His voice is almost wistful “Growing up in a big family.”
Will shrugs. “Yeah, for the most part.” It was a big family… until it shrunk by almost half. But there’s no need to get into that right now. “There were too many of us and not enough space,” he settles on, instead. “Lots of good memories, though. How about you? You mentioned a sister?”
Di Angelo doesn’t immediately react, and Will wonders for a moment if the other man didn’t hear him.
“That’s Hazel, that I mentioned,” he says finally. “My half-sister. She lives in Baltimore. But Bianca. She was… my other sister. She died. A little over ten years ago.”
“Oh,” Will says, suddenly feeling as if he’s completely put his foot in it. “That must have been… I’m really sorry,” he says, softer. And for a second he wants to mention Michael, and Lee, but at the closed-off set of di Angelo’s face, he thinks it might be better to move on.
“Thanks,” di Angelo says after a moment. “It sucked. Still does, to be honest,” he laughs without humor.
“Yeah,” Will agrees, his own voice hoarse. He has a stupid impulse to reach out and squeeze the other man’s hand where it rests on the gear shift. Instead he diverts and distracts; much as therapy has taught him it’s not his job to raise the spirits of everyone in the room, old habits die hard.
At least he’s successful, pointing out a Krispy Kreme sign at the next exit and drumming up some excitement about coffee and doughnuts. They get back into the sedan after the brief stop, di Angelo pops in another CD, and there’s not much conversation aside from the occasional “sorry” or “oops” when their fingers bump as they reach for the cup holders.
Traffic is heavier as they near the DC city limits, and the CD cycles back to the first track.
“Want me to change it?” Will asks, reaching for the zippered case between them.
“Sure. You can choose one. Or just stick in whatever’s next.”
Will flips through the discs, trying and failing to find anything he’d choose to listen to voluntarily. There’s a CD at the back of the case with the title written in Sharpie on the disc.
“The Early Years?” Will asks, holding it up.
Di Angelo glances over. "It's Tom Waits. You might like it."
Will’s not entirely sure about that, but he goes for it anyway, surprised at the gentle acoustic guitar that flows from the speakers when he pops it in. They're three tracks in when he catches the dark-haired man smiling, truly smiling at him, and Will laughs. "It's good," he says, surprised.
Di Angelo just nods, looking pleased. He turns his attention back to the road, one hand loosely gripping the top of the steering wheel. Will leans back into his seat, lulled by the quiet melody and hum of the car. He sneaks a glance sideways. Di Angelo looks just as relaxed, Will thinks, the tension of the case in Thornhill drifting away in the hum of the highway, the miles under their tires.
Di Angelo drives the way he moves around his basement office, Will thinks. Languid and graceful, like he belongs in the space. Like he’s a part of it. It’s not… unattractive.
There’s a pause and another track begins, a soft progression of chords in a major key. Di Angelo begins singing along softly, under his breath, then a little louder with the chorus.
Will watches him out of the corner of his eye, something warm and unexpected blossoming in his chest. The other man has a low voice, well suited to hitting the lowest lows of the song. Will grew up in a house full of musicians, and he’s a quick study. When the second chorus begins, Will joins in with a light tenor harmony.
Di Angelo shoots him a smile, not faltering in his melody as they begin passing exit signs for DC and as the chorus slips back into the verse.
The song ends and Will grins. “You have a nice voice, Agent di Angelo,” he tells the other man.
Di Angelo huffs out a laugh. “You’re not so bad yourself. Maybe we can have a second career as lounge singers, if this FBI thing doesn’t work out.”
Will laughs. “Sounds like fun.” He tilts his head. “I’ll bring my Disney soundtracks along next road trip. We can sing the Aladdin duet.”
“Oh my god,” di Angelo mutters. He’s fighting a smile. “Next road trip, I’m requesting separate cars.”
Will laughs. There’s a moment of quiet as the CD continues to play and di Angelo smoothly changes lanes. “You know,” he glances at Will. “You can call me Nico.”
Will grins, somehow feeling like he’s won something, like maybe this whole case wasn’t such a bust after all.
“Nico,” he says, trying it out. Stupidly, it makes his cheeks warm. He carefully turns his face towards the passenger side window.
::
Three weeks later
Reyna pauses in front of a filing cabinet in the basement office, surveying the mess on its surface. Most of it is unremarkable - books, files, newspapers, overdue expense reports. She peers at a framed photo sitting atop a box of envelopes.
Then there’s the slam of the stairwell door and a voice in the hall. Reyna turns, brow furrowed. It sounds like Nico’s voice, but the voice is singing. Not only that, but Reyna’s quite sure she recognizes the song, because it’s from the animated mermaid movie her nieces are obsessed with. So perhaps it’s not Nico? But who else would be in the basement, particularly after five pm?
The office door opens and it is indeed Nico, still singing to himself, eyes on a sheaf of paper in his hand. He crosses to his desk, completely unaware that he has an audience.
Reyna clears her throat.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Nico jumps about a foot in the air, clutching at his chest. Reyna’s gaze follows the trajectory of the papers he was carrying as they flutter to the floor.
Nico slumps against his desk, breathing hard. “What the fuck, Reyna – what the fuck are you – Jesus Christ.”
“Whose fish?” Reyna asks.
“Whose – what?” Nico asks weakly.
Reyna turns back to the filing cabinet, plucking the framed photo from the top of it - four tropical fish in a tank, an array of plastic tropical plants anchored in colorful gravel, a skull sitting in the corner. “Whose fish?” she repeats, holding the photo out to Nico.
“They’re – they’re mine.”
“Yours?”
“Yeah –”
“You have a framed photo of them. In your office.”
“It was a – stupid Christmas gift from Hazel. Reyna –”
“But you brought it to work. And put it in your office.”
“Reyna, what the fuck are you doing here?” Nico bursts out, exasperated.
Reyna carefully replaces the photograph. She turns and watches Nico for a long moment. “I wasn’t aware you were a Disney fan,” she says.
“I’m… not?” Nico says, looking completely lost.
“Part of Your World? The Little Mermaid?”
Now there’s a trace of something other than irritation on Nico’s face – recognition, or embarrassment. Interesting.
“That’s not me, that’s my idiot partner,” Nico mutters.
“You know all the words.”
Nico frowns. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “Reyna –”
“Speaking of which, how are things progressing with Agent Solace?”
Nico’s posture softens. “He’s – fine. I mean, he’s got garbage taste in music. And he thinks he’s funny.”
“You seem to think he’s funny as well.”
“I – what?”
“I saw the two of you walking back into the building this afternoon. I would have said hello, but you were busy laughing at something Agent Solace had said.” Reyna quirks an eyebrow.
Nico sighs, finally dropping into his chair. “Is there a reason for this visit, or did you just come down here to antagonize me? Because I’ve spent the last two days in a car with Solace, and honestly I’ve had my fill of that.”
“Fine.” Reyna clears her throat. “I came to speak to you regarding your investigation in Thornhill.”
“Oh.” Nico sags in his chair. “Look, I know we went down without prior approval, but –”
Reyna raises a hand to quiet him. “That is not what I came to speak to you about. I had a meeting with Octavian this afternoon.”
Nico grimaces. Honestly, Reyna can relate.
“He was initially quite unhappy with what he considers a misuse of resources to chase down a lead that didn’t pan out, especially one he deems outside the purview of the Bureau’s mandate. What I most wanted to impress upon you, however, is that Agent Solace’s field reports were flawless. He was able to outline your investigation in a way that even Octavian was unable to find fault with.”
Nico blinks. “Oh. That’s…”
“Yes, it is,” Reyna agrees. “Agent Solace was also able to delineate your role specifically in a manner that cast you in the best possible light.”
Nico looks a little stunned.
“And, purely as a matter of interest,” Reyna says pointedly, “Agent Solace’s reports were typed, submitted on time, and scrupulously proofread.”
At that, Nico rolls his eyes. “Do you want Solace to take over down here? I can go upstairs and do autopsies if you like.”
“What I am saying, Agent, is that it may be very much in your best interests to be nice to Agent Solace. If you’re very lucky, this partnership could be a significant factor in helping you keep your department.”
Nico scrubs a hand over his face. “I let him play his stupid CDs in the car. What more do you want from me?”
Reyna watches him and he sighs, watching her back.
“Fine," Nico says grudgingly. "I’ll be nice. He’s – he’s not so hard to be nice to. As it turns out."
(chapter 3 here)
Notes:
1. I have done a LOT of work on this chapter and tbh it's still probably my least favourite. I found it really hard to write these two as complete strangers, not to mention this was the first ~case chapter I wrote and I felt entirely out of my element. Not looking for sympathy, just sharing because I like to hear about people's writing processes :) Incidentally, writing casefic got MUCH easier with some practice. 2. On a related note, I wrote this chapter completely cold turkey, no planning, the way I'd usually write a one-shot. DO NOT RECOMMEND. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what was going on when I got to the editing stage. 3. At some point I realized I could just make up town names and it made my life so much better. 4. Thanks a ton to @rosyredlipstick for the beta & to @anything-thats-rock-and-roll for random troubleshooting :)
#my writing#x-files au#solangelo#nico di angelo#will solace#reyna ramirez-arellano#casefic#conservatively rated teen for now#alternate universe - fbi
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Lukola fanfic scenario, Luke POV: Luke and Nicola are in the middle of filming Season 3, and Luke has just realised he is infatuated with Nicola. Only problem is he's in a relationship and so is she. During a short break from filming, he catches up with his parents, who have some sage bits of advice for him...
(Excerpt taken from my fanfiction 'Curtain Fall')
31st October 2022 – Salisbury (UK)
“Oh my God, it’s Colin from Bridgerton.” He heard their hissing whispers before he saw them.
Two young women stood at the entrance of The Bell and Crown pub, trying desperately to appear nonchalant. They were wrapped up warmly in thick coats with hats and gloves and holding an array of shopping bags.
In a situation like this one, he had decided he would follow suit and pretend he did not notice them noticing. He sensed this might be hard to achieve as they were partially blocking his way into the pub, but he did his best to try to manouevre past them with his head down. The brunettes’ eyes widened at the realization that their paths were about to cross. Luke watched as she nervously took a few steps back from him, the back of her legs hitting the giant ornamental pumpkin that was placed on the ground behind her. She had barely let out a squeal as she started to tip backwards before he reached out and grabbed her by the arm, steadying her.
“Woah, careful.” He gave her what he hoped would be his most reassuring smile.
Regardless, the colour drained from her face.
“Oh m-m-my God, I-I’m so sorry.” She sputtered. She looked like she was going to be sick.
“We’re really big fans!” Her friend in the mustard-coloured coat behind her suddenly burst out, her eyes widened with excitement.
He was not sure how to receive their two very different energies.
“Thank you.” He replied, again hoping that he came across kind.
“So, you guys are filming up at Wilton House, right?” Mustard coat continued. “We love it up there, it’s so gorgeous. Are you guys there for the rest of the week? Oh, wait, you probably can’t say! Or wait, can you say? You probably can’t say what you’re filming though.”
“Yeah, we are. I’m sorry, I’m going in for some lunch.” He gestured to the inside of the pub.
“Oh! God! Look at me going on and on. Of course, of course.” Mustard coat shuffled away, pulling her friend away with her.
He knew the whirlwind of emotions that you could experience when you encountered someone famous, he had been the fan many, many times in his life. He hoped he had never been the embarrassing fan though. He had also been recognised before, but this was the first time in his life that he had found himself being recognised this often.
In fact, just a few weeks ago, he and Jade had been drinking in a London bar when a group of girls had realised who he was and had encircled them. The situation had turned incredibly awkward when they started talking about how hot he was and then one of the girls tried to give him her number. It did not help matters that the girls were a group of European models celebrating their last night of work in the city. He had watched Jade’s face go from mildly annoyed by the inconvenience to viscerally angry. They had ended up cutting their night short and heading home; Jade had remained stoically silent the entire way. It had worried him. He knew she did not blame him for the reactions he was getting but he wondered how much she would be able to tolerate. How much could any woman’s self-esteem tolerate seeing other women throw themselves at their partner? He had reminded Jade that it had been public knowledge that he and Nicola were this season’s protagonist and ever since filming had started; fans of the show were constantly awestruck when they saw him or Nicola out anywhere. The reactions were even bigger when the two of them were spotted out together. He had hoped it would reassure her somewhat that this was the Bridgerton effect. He felt a need to remind not just her but also himself that he was not the one changing, it was the situation. He had not suddenly become hot, whatever that meant.
If things are like this now, what will it be like when the season’s out? He thought. He could hardly fathom it.
He thought about the ways Nicola had reassured him about what was to come. In her typical, unflappable way, she had told him it would be hilarious, and they would get through it together. It was silly advice but because it came from her, he believed it. Those words had been keeping him grounded. No matter what happened, she would be with him, and they would surely navigate it all together.
Now though, he felt as if that certainty was threatened. He had been having dreams. Then out of nowhere, Ezra had shown up. He could feel deep in his bones that he was agitated about what Ezra’s presence in Nicola’s life meant more than anything else. He also knew that was wrong. This should not be occupying so much of his brain. He was also aware that he was not very good at hiding how wound up he was feeling. It was becoming apparent in his body language, and sometimes it was slipping through in what he said. This was why he was so grateful for an afternoon away from everyone and everything, and to be around the two people who always helped him gain a sense of perspective.
He walked through The Bell and Crown, taking in its historical features that included wooden ship beams suspended from the ceiling and stone floors. The smell of fried food and woodfire hit his nostrils as he spotted them seated at a mahogany table right at the back.
“Mum, dad!” He greeted them with a small wave as he made his way to them, pulling off his jacket as he did so.
His parents were sat with an assortment of small plates before them and three glasses: one with water, one with wine and the other with beer. His mother, Sharon, was a petite woman with short blonde hair that was scooped up into a ponytail with a fringe. His father, Lee, sat opposite her; his sandy brown hair was covered by a dark red beanie hat.
It was too easy. Luke thought, as he yanked the hat off his father’s head and took a seat next to his mother.
“Thank you!” Sharon exclaimed, putting her hands together in a praying gesture. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Lee looked from Luke to Sharon, and then back at Luke: “Do you want to sit here with a man with hat hair or a man with a hat?”
“It’s ungentlemanly to wear a hat indoors.” Sharon shook her head at her husband. “Just smooth it out.”
“Why aren’t you using that hair gel I got you for your birthday?” Luke added, amused.
There was no escapism like being around your parents and watching them bicker over the smallest things.
“I’m not using any ruddy hair gel! I’m a fifty-nine-year-old man Luke, not a member of One Direction.” Lee snapped back, making Luke roar with laughter.
“We ordered for you.” Sharon nodded at the food in front of them. “We knew you wouldn’t have long before you would have to head back and service here is woefully slow.”
There was something to really love about the predictability that came with your parents’ habits when they reached a certain age. He had all but compiled a bingo card in his mind of the things he knew were going to be coming up during this meal. At the top of the list was his mother picking fault with the service in the pub – never mind that the pub was five-star reviewed. His mother could make Gordon Ramsay look soft.
“Thanks mum, I do have to get back in about an hour.” He popped a fry into his mouth.
“How are you, my love? You look a lot more tired than when we last saw you.” Sharon eyed him carefully.
“You do look a little rougher around the edges.” Lee added, some concern in his voice. “How many hours are you doing on set?”
Luke was appreciative of how much his parents cared for him. Even though Lee was not his biological father, he had always treated Luke like a son – in fact, Luke was sure he was treated better than most sons were by their biological fathers. Lee had also been in the entertainment industry and had taken great pains to ensure Luke was protected and well supported as he sought to make a career for himself. Luke was sure that he would not have been half as successful if it had not been for Lee’s wisdom.
“The hours are fine; I’m just not sleeping too well.” Luke replied, surprising himself with his own admission.
“It’s a lot to be carrying a whole season your back.” Lee said sympathetically.
“Well, how’s Nicola? She will be a good one to help you through.” Sharon advised, taking a sip from the wine glass. “She’s done it all before with Derry Girls. Although I imagine this will be on an even grander scale…”
He had not wanted to talk about Nicola. He knew that between Ezra and his dreams, the topic was too loaded for him. He had wanted to come away for a nice meal with his parents to get a break from those thoughts. Yet, talking about her and about him seemed irresistible to him.
He could barely stop the words exploding out of his mouth. “Oh, I don’t think she’s losing sleep. She’s got a distraction right now.”
The words came with a little more emotion than he had intended them to. His parents knew him too well not to pick up on it.
“Oh really?” Sharon raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“She’s got this… guy friend who’s visiting and she’s all over him.” Luke stated, he hoped he sounded less bothered than he was. He picked up his knife and fork and began to make a start on the giant battered cod that sat on his plate.
“Guy friend? Is that what you millennials call boyfriends?” His mother laughed.
“They’re not calling themselves that… yet.” Luke grimaced.
He caught the exchange of looks between his parents out of the corner of his eye.
“So, I take it you don’t like him then?” Lee asked.
Luke realised there was no one around that could judge him for his real opinions on the matter. He had had to put on a mask on the Bridgerton set but around his parents, he could be honest. He felt liberated.
“I just don’t get what she sees in him.” He replied.
“Oooh, that is really tough.” Sharon made a face. “But she isn’t just your friend. She’s also your scene partner, you can’t upset things at this stage of filming by saying anything too honest.”
“I know.” Luke felt the frustration rise again slightly. “Believe me. I’m swallowing it.”
“Nicola’s got a good head on her shoulders. He might not be as bad as you think.” His father shrugged, slicing into his steak and taking a bite.
Luke shook his head emphatically at this. “No, this guy is everything we would make fun of.”
“Well, matters of the heart aren’t always a straight line.” Sometimes, Lee doled out predictably vague dad wisdom.
“I don’t think you should be making fun of anyone. It seems cruel.” Sharon added, wrinkling her nose as she frowned. Sometimes she said predictably mum things.
Luke pulled out his phone and with a few swipes on the screen, he pulled up an Instagram page and held it up for them both to see. “This is him. LOOK at him. Skinny jeans, v-neck white t-shirt that’s too small for his arms, standing in front of designer luggage with the caption CEO mode. Am I going mad or is this man not a parody of himself?”
Sharon threw her head back in laughter. “Oh God, yes, he’s quite something.”
“And Nic – she’s the opposite.” Luke continued. “She’s down to earth, she’s not flash, she wears designer clothes but it’s tasteful, it’s not like this-”
“I’m sure she is the wonderful, thoughtful friend you know but she’s also a woman.” Sharon interrupted him. She surveyed the photo on the screen with a smirk. “You know, as a woman, I get the appeal.”
Luke made a disgusted face and looked at Lee for some help in the matter.
Lee stopped, his fork mid-air, and moved his face closer to the phone screen. He eventually shrugged. “He's a fine specimen of a man. Sorry, I’ve got eyes, Luke.”
“Ugh.” Luke groaned, taking his phone off the table.
“But hey, this is good, isn’t it?” His mothers’ eyes twinkle with realisation. “You can knead your concern for your friend into Colin’s concern for Penelope. They are keeping the love triangle element?”
“You know I can’t say script specifics, mum.” Luke said dismissively. He could feel the simmering annoyance that had now settled in. He needed to change the topic.
Just then, Sharon reached forward for a napkin that was in the center of the table and her hand knocked her wine glass, causing it to tip onto the table and onto the sleeve of her cream cardigan.
“Oh, Jesus!” She leapt up in her chair. Luke grabbed at the remaining napkins and started to pad the table dry, and Lee started to get to his feet to assist.
“It’s alright Lee, I need to wash this out in the ladies.” Sharon gestured for him to sit. “Thank God it was only a white wine.” She grabbed her handbag and walked away from the table.
Luke continued to dab at the table, which was now drier but also stickier.
“Word to the wise, focus on the girlfriend you’ve got.” Lee’s voice interrupted him, making him stop.
He fathers’ words took him slightly aback.
Lee took in his reaction and continued: “Look, Nicola’s a very beautiful girl. It’s easily done.”
“I’m not… nothing’s being done.” Luke responded, but his voice cracked as he spoke. He knew he was lying to himself and Lee by pretending not to know what his words meant.
“It happens, you know.” Lee spoke calmly. “I saw it all the time. Feelings getting intensified and confused on a shoot like this. I’m just saying, keep the work as work and don’t neglect your real life.”
Luke felt the weight of what was being said. As always, Lee was able to read him better then he could read himself. Yet, the feelings felt too raw to be exposed like this. He could not rationalise them so he did what his instinct told him to: deny them.
“I’m not.” He repeated, firmer this time. “Nothing’s getting confused. She’s my friend, I just don’t like the guy.”
“Well, then do a better job of it.” Lee’s voice was equally stern.
“Better job of it?” Luke was confused.
“Of acting like you’re not.” Lee shot back. “You know, acting? The thing you’re good at but seem to be completely unable to do when it comes to this.”
Luke felt himself getting flustered. He knew he was having a hard time hiding his feelings but was he really being that obvious? Before he could respond, Sharon had appeared behind him, and she was carrying what looked to be a mountain of paper towels.
“Jesus, did you leave some for the rest of the restaurant?” Lee exclaimed.
“Very funny.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “What are you two looking so serious about?”
“Plotting your Christmas present.” Lee spoke before Luke could. That was the signal to say that particular conversation was over, and Luke could not feel more grateful. It was hard enough denying those thoughts and feelings to his father, let alone his mother.
“Oh, I already said I don’t want a big fuss.” Sharon sighed. “Don’t you dare let him make a fuss, Luke.”
“Well, I don’t control the man, mum. I’ve already got him to downsize the gift from a trip to the Maldives.” Luke teased.
“The Maldives?” Sharon gasped.
Difficult as it was, Luke tried to enjoy the distraction of winding his mother up for the rest of the lunch hour.
#luke newton#nicola coughlan#bridgerton#polin fanfiction#bridgerton fanfiction#lukola#polin#colin x penelope#penelope featherington#colin bridgerton#ao3 fanfic#lukola fanfic#derry girls#clare devlin#behind the scenes#on set#bridgerton bts#polin sex scene#polin gifs#nicola couglan boyfriend#jake dunn
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Happy new year!
1, 11, and 22 for the end of year asks?
1. Song of the year?
Already answered but I actually also really liked I Think They Call This Love by Elliot James Reay
11. Something you want to do again next year?
Already answered, so here’s more. I know it sounds so simple but I want to draw again? I’ve had practically zero time to draw anything I like for the past few years and I really want to get back into it because I had a taste of it making my Christmas cards this year and I want to do a lot more!
22. Favourite place you visited this year?
Did a lot of traveling about this year to a lot of historical places so its hard to choose but I think Wilton’s Music Hall (which is a surviving Victorian music hall in London) to see a Dad’s Army radio show performance and Tom Carradine’s cockney singalong, got to meet him too! Titanic exhibition was one of my favourites as well. The reenactor gent playing Captain E. J. Smith asked me out it was really good to see it again after so long and met some more reenactors there too.
Thanks and Happy New Year to you too :)
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mentopolis ep 2 highlights:
1. The Fix with his animal facts is sheer poetry. "I don't think you're the tail of a swallowtail butterfly. I think you're the butterfly"?? holy shit?? thats so sweet and poetic and beautiful??
and everyone goin "aww" at everything The Fix does he's so beloved and its only ep 2 like Brennan said there's nothing fans of play love more than a murderer. ughh The Fix using his Protector and Loyalty features to help Conrad 🥺🥺 what a perfect character I love them
ALSO. "Did you know that more than half the bones in your body are in your hands and feet?" and "Whenever someone says I'm going to break every bone in your body I think thats ridiculous! It'd be way too much work! But I could break half the bones in your body"
2. Mike Trapp committing 1000% to being a student and farming so much moxie only to spend seven just to freak a guy out. his fuckin "I. am. a. STUDENT" fuckin killed me
3. Also so many moments in this ep where Brennan just fully exits standard play just to talk about how much he loves what his players are doing. Like when Conrad goes to hug Justin in combat and Brennan's like aww that's so sweet take a moxie. Or when Brennan comments on how Hank's facts are genuinely nightmarish and in Adventuring Party him saying that breaking his own fingers and going "just kill me man" was how he Brennan would react in that situation.
4. Conrad's "So...how long you've been fixing?". And the. the whole scene in Nostalgia's. Conrad's coffee grounds. Anastatia's room temp vodka. Hunch's the experience of a root beer float for the first time. Imelda and Novelty. Dan Fucks asking for pancake syrup. and The Fix just wanting a calzone. absolutely perfect.
5. the way they did the reveal with the giant screens ahsidifjfifi so cool
6. Hunch at the start IDing the goons by tasting their blood Mike Trapp everyone
7. Gods the whole thing with Wilton and Dan Fucks and the balls and Dan Fucks being like "keep it up one day it'll happen. I love you brother" and Freddie hearing blunt force trauma to the head and being like "Wilton you gotta get down to the balls ASAP"
8. udhhdjsjsgklgk the wordbuilding in Conrad's home with the memories and The Fix being challenged by memories and feelings that come from a place of conscience cos by design shame and guilt and memories when we didn't do right by others or ourselves are not pleasant. They force us to confront our behaviour and the consequences of our actions and it's not gonna be pleasant. but it COULD be. In the same way that conscience can make us feel bad when we don't follow it, it can also feel good to so the right thing despite how difficult it is and the idea that for Elias Hodge his conscience is a lil street urchin and their idea of a banner day would be if Elias held a door for an old lady.
9. Hank saying The Fix doesn't think the job of the mind is to control itself and Brennan's mind exploding and being like "this season's good for me in a lot of ways" eheheheheh crunchy
10. The Fix running his thumb along the ice skates and thinking of Ichabod a kid in the home for wayward interests that isn't there anymore wahh 🥺
11. awawaughh Conrad telling the story of how Elias stood up for his lil sis and got cut up by some bullies using the skates...and that's why Conrad keeps them and that's why he doesn't deserved to be listened to....and The Fix going "I think its time to unlearn that lesson" with somber sincerity and Conrad shaken to his core the captions say "(thoroughly impacted) Okay." as Conrad reacts ajdididjjd. The Brennan commenting about how they talked about balls so much this season and he legitimately almost wept then AJJAKAKSKSKDNBFJD
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lili-loves-whump presents, a 'whump: the musical!' snippet,
Heathers
previous first next
(a tw!! implied/ attempted non-con. be advised)
Whumpee coughs. Their thoughts are sluggish, their head wobbly and too large for their body.
The man across from the bar smiles. His teeth are rotten and yellow. Whumpee takes another sip of they drink, smiling when the warmth of alcohol runs through their bloodstream.
The man scratches at his balding head. A clump of fuzzy blonde hair comes away at his fingertips, but he brushes it away without a second thought.
Whumpee runs the tip of their finger across their drink. The glass gleams in the low light of the bar, and Whumpee can see their reflection.
They look frazzled, headphones still on, but music no longer playing. The time of their nose is pink and their brow is furrowed. The drink burns their throat as they lift it to their lips.
"You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" The man says. He doesn't sound friendly, or kind, and Whumpee's mental blocks rise as he speaks.
His eyes gleam with something like malice, and he hasn't taken another sip of his own glass in front of him.
Whumpee feels warm again, despite not wearing their sweater. The door behind them opens, and a gust of frigid air blows into the air, but still, Whumpee relishes the chill of the cool air.
It is dark now. Whumpee frowns. How will they get home?
The man is talking again. He has reached forward and is running a thumb over Whumpee's knuckles. They frown.
"You really are a beauty. Don't worry, the high will kick in soon."
Whumpee sobers.
"High?" they choke out, voice catching.
The man looks sorrowful. Almost.
"It'll be okay, little birdie. Don't worry your pretty little head."
The world spins, and Whumpee feels violently ill. The man has walked around the side of the bar, and wears a name tag that says Wilton.
Wilton places a warm hand on Whumpee's shoulder. Their stomach rolls, and they stay planted in their seat. The world is fuzzy, and Whumpee goes to flinch, but the movements are sluggish and too slow for their liking.
A hand on their thigh. Are they crying? It feels like Whumper all over again. Poison of some description courses through their veins.
Hands everywhere. They were alone.
A breath of icy winter air.
Whumpee's sweater is still inside. It is beginning to snow. The tears on their cheeks dry. Someone is calling out. They walk away from the warmth and fear of the bar.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
#this was hard to write#im sorry#lili loves whump#heathers#poison#whump#whump the musical#drabble#creative writing#trope#oneshots#whumpee#whumper#tw: drinking#tw: attempted non-con#bar#alcohol#Spotify
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Florida quietly removes LGBTQ+ travel info from state website
FILE - Hundreds of people line Central Avenue and cheer during the 10th Annual St. Pete Pride Street Festival & Promenade in St. Petersburg, Fla. on June 30, 2012.
TALLAHASSEE, Fla. (AP) — Key West, Fort Lauderdale, Wilton Manors and St. Petersburg are among several Florida cities that have long been top U.S. destinations for LGBTQ+ tourists. So it came as a surprise this week when travelers learned that Florida's tourism marketing agency quietly removed the “LGBTQ Travel” section from its website sometime in the past few months.
Business owners who cater to Florida's LGBTQ+ tourists said Wednesday that it marked the latest attempt by officials in the state to erase the LGBTQ+ community. Republican Gov. Ron DeSantis previously championed a bill to forbid classroom instruction on sexual orientation and gender identity, and supported a ban on gender-affirming care for minors, as well as a law meant to keep children out of drag shows.
“It's just disgusting to see this,” said Keith Blackburn, who heads the Greater Fort Lauderdale LGBT Chamber of Commerce. “They seem to want to erase us.”
The change to Visit Florida's website was first reported by NBC News, which noted a search query still pulls up some listings for LGBTQ+-friendly places despite the elimination of the section.
John Lai, who chairs Visit Florida's board, didn't respond to an email seeking comment Tuesday. Dana Young, Visit Florida's CEO and president, didn't respond to a voicemail message Wednesday, and neither did the agency's public relations director.
Visit Florida is a public-private partnership between the state of Florida and the state's tourism industry. The state contributes about $50 million each year to the quasi-public agency from two tourism and economic development funds.
Florida is one of the most popular states in the U.S. for tourists, and tourism is one of its biggest industries. Nearly 141 million tourists visited Florida in 2023, with out-of-state visitors contributing more than $102 billion to Florida’s economy.
Before the change, the LGBTQ+ section on Visit Florida's website had read, “There’s a sense of freedom to Florida’s beaches, the warm weather and the myriad activities — a draw for people of all orientations, but especially appealing to a gay community looking for a sense of belonging and acceptance.”
Blackburn said the change and other anti-LGBTQ+ policies out of Tallahassee make it more difficult for him to promote South Florida tourism since he encounters prospective travelers or travel promoters who say they don't want to do business in the state.
Last year, for instance, several civil rights groups issued a travel advisory for Florida, saying that policies championed by DeSantis and Florida lawmakers are “openly hostile toward African Americans, people of color and LGBTQ+ individuals.”
But visitors should also understand that many Florida cities are extremely inclusive, with gay elected officials and LGBTQ+-owned businesses, and they don't reflect the policies coming from state government, Blackburn added.
“It’s difficult when these kinds of stories come out, and the state does these things, and we hear people calling for a boycott,” Blackburn said. “On one level, it’s embarrassing to have to explain why people should come to South Florida and our destination when the state is doing these things.”
#Florida quietly removes LGBTQ+ travel info from state website#florida#lgbtq#desatan#hateful#pride#lgbtq+#travel advisory for florida#another travel advisory for florida#civil rights
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The roomy space beneath the tarp was a good place to cook this week's hill meal, a smoked tofu curry based on this recipe. Two and a half weeks to the Winter Solstice, 16+ hours of darkness, might as well use that time constructively.
I was finishing off the last remnants of Panang curry paste in that tub, with other ingredients packed inside for the walk-in. When it comes to curries like this, don't bother with tiny, overpriced jars of bland paste from supermarkets. Go for the real stuff, either from local specialist stores or online retailers like Wiltons. Buy in bulk, cook and freeze in batches.
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Don't Say Florida
Business owners who cater to Florida’s LGBTQ+ tourists said Wednesday that it marked the latest attempt by officials in the state to erase the LGBTQ+ community. Republican Gov. Ron DeSantis previously championed a bill to forbid classroom instruction on sexual orientation and gender identity, and supported a ban on gender-affirming care for minors, as well as a law meant to keep children out of drag shows.
“It’s just disgusting to see this,” said Keith Blackburn, who heads the Greater Fort Lauderdale LGBT Chamber of Commerce. “They seem to want to erase us.” The change to Visit Florida’s website was first reported by NBC News, which noted a search query still pulls up some listings for LGBTQ+-friendly places despite the elimination of the section.
#tourism#queer#lgbtq#lgbt#trans#drag#drag show#don't say gay#anti trans legislation#desantis#florida#2024
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AU Thursday: Valicer In The Dark -- Score & Story Ideas Inspired By Other Sources!
Hey, remember this surprisingly-long post of score & story ideas I had for the Valicer In The Dark universe? And how, at the end, I mentioned I still had loads of ideas, these based off other stuff I enjoy or find intriguing in some way? Well, it's taken me longer than anticipated, but here is my surprsingly-long follow-up list of some of those stories! Because you know me and my crossovers -- if I can, I will. :p
-->First up, here's a score idea based off of something unexpected -- the summary of what would have been Alice: Asylum! Now, if you know me, you know that I was never really into this weird prequel/sequel/whatever-the-hell-it-turned-into-before-EA-said-"Nope" entry into the Alice series (justice for Alice Otherlands), and I actually don't know that much about it. But I do know two key things that were apparently part of the final draft, thanks to the wiki:
1. That Wilton Radcliffe, Alice's family's lawyer and that dickhead keeping her rabbit from her in Alice: Madness Returns, was apparently helping Bumby with his activities
2. That Radcliffe, while he was off-screen, somehow sired a daughter, named Angela
That coupled with the fact that I still needed to establish where Alice's beloved toy rabbit (Mr. Bunny, as per my own headcanon) had got to in the VITD universe inspired me to create a score where, after getting a little more settled into their lair and establishing a name for themselves as the Three Pillars, the trio decide to go after Radcliffe to see if they can get Mr. Bunny and whatever's left of Alice's inheritance back. However, when they get to his house, they find it recently abandoned. Searching the place reveals a diary where Radcliffe's role in Bumby's activities is revealed, and his plans to flee the city before the Bluecoats discover he was a collaborator. Specifically, he notes down that he has a meeting with a former "client" on the very day the trio has broken into his house --
Where he intends to hand over his daughter for enough money to get a ticket on a ship heading to Skovlan (a neighboring country, not doing so great after a war with Akoros, where Duskwall is). After Alice recovers from the "when the fuck did he have a child" shock, the trio immediately rush off to the Docks to save Angela and take Radcliffe down, at which aim they of course succeed because fuck Radcliffe. In the process, Alice discovers that Angela has taken Mr. Bunny as her own (renaming him "Rabbity"). Angela, upon realizing that Rabbity is in fact Alice's old toy, offers to give him back, but Alice is content to let him stay with Angela (though she does take the opportunity to give him a big hug first). The trio thus drop Angela off at the new, better Houndsditch run by June, and she quickly becomes fast friends with Charlie. :) Better ending for her than being stuck in eternal limbo, right?
-->I'd already decided a while ago that I wanted to incorporate stuff from Fallout 4 into my personal Duskwall -- "A Murdered Shared Is A Murdered Thirded" is going to have Smiler's parents mention sending Bumby's ledger off to "Miss Wright at Publick Occurrences; she'll make sure everyone knows what he was doing before next Embers," in the final chapter, for example. As for actual scores for the Three Pillars to get involved in, I have two quests so far that I would like to adapt to fit my universe:
Unlikely Valentine -- AKA the quest to save Nick from Skinny Malone! I imagine in this universe the Three Pillars are hired directly by either Ellie or Piper to try and figure out where Nick went while investigating a possible kidnapping by the "Triggermen" -- a new gang on the scene (consisting of a lot of Hounds, since that's the playbook that specializes in guns) that operate out of some half-completed vault some old rich dude once tried to have constructed to protect him and his from another cataclysm. Of course, the twist is that the "kidnappee," a woman named Darla, is actually leader Skinny's new girlfriend and was not keen on going back to her parents, so Nick ended up locked up while the gang tried to decide what to do with him, and the trio have to rescue him AND make sure Skinny and Darla don't decide to just kill them all. And, like in the main game, the other twist is that the trio were expecting Nick to be human, but discover during the rescue that he's a mechanical being -- specifically, that he's a Hull, a steampunk robot animated by a ghost! You see, what happened to this version is Nick is that he died in a scrap with Eddie Winter's gang shortly after the death of his fiancee, Jenny, but the Bluecoat squad he was working with didn't want to lose him and his brilliant detective skills, so they paid off the Spirit Wardens to trap his ghost but NOT dispose of it, and commissioned a human-like robot body for him. Hulls are GENERALLY created with some sort of magical device in them that blunts the mind and free will of the spirit inside so it can be trusted to do tasks, but the Bluecoats were certain they could rely on Nick's loyalty to the department and didn't bother with that. Not like he'd try to escape, right?
...Nick escaped and set up shop on his own in Charhollow the minute he could. XD He's still wrestling with some identity issues (these stemming from the fact that he's now a ghost in a mechanical body that doesn't quite feel like his, but that he doesn't dare leave for fear of losing his mind and becoming a Specter), but he's doing his best to help those who need help in Duskwall, and he is much loved by his community. They just all also happen to be so used to him that nobody thought to tell Victor, Alice, and Smiler what his whole deal is. XD Fortunately the three recover quickly from discovering what he is and manage to get him out without anybody getting killed, and Nick probably becomes one of their contacts from that point on. Nothing like a private detective to help you gather information! (And yes, it would be nice if they could help him finally take down Eddie Winter in a variant of the "Winter's End" quest, but I haven't figured that one out yet...)
When Freedom Calls -- AKA the quest to help Preston take out these damn raiders threatening his group of Quincy survivors! This one is much less fleshed out at the moment, but I know it involves the trio accidentally walking into Preston, holed up in some ruined building in Six Towers (I want to make it a museum, I'm jut not sure of what yet -- one commemorating the Emperor's actions during the Cataclysm?), fighting back against a gang trying to kidnap one of a group of people he's protecting for her mystical powers (much like Jared of the Corvega group of raiders wanted Mama Murphy for her Sight). They end up joining the fight on Preston's side to try and find a way to get his civilians safely out of there...a task somewhat complicated by the arrival of a deathclaw-like Horror (a strange electroplasmic entity that can do Bad Things to people) on the scene. Mainly this score is to establish Preston as a character in my version of Duskwall -- a former Bluecoat who, after his squad was betrayed by a colleague and murdered trying to do their duty, decided to found the vigilante squad the Minutemen to help those whom the Bluecoats won't and take down some of the more unsavory sorts in Duskwall. He considers the Three Pillars "honorary" members after they rescue him and his little group, and I'd imagine they and his Minutemen end up on pretty friendly terms, since the Three Pillars are FAR from the worst criminals in the city. Hell, Preston might even be able to provide a score or two in the future, much like how he's a quest-giver in the game. Wouldn't be THAT hard to adapt some of the named Minutemen-related quests, like the ones for Abernathy or Finch Farm, to the world of Duskwall!
-->Somewhat in-keeping with the Bethesda theme, here's a story that would be loosely based on that one Skyrim quest "A Night To Remember" and The Hangover movies -- "A Hangover To Remember!" Admittedly, I've never played Skyrim nor watched any of the Hangover movies, but I have read quest write-ups and movie plot summaries, and I think I can make this work regardless. XD Basically, what happens is that the Three Pillars are at The Ball & Socket one Names (aka night, since there's no proper "day" in Duskwall), when Smiler ends up challenged to a drinking contest by a demon. Victor is like "Smiler, I don't know," but the demon makes a solemn vow not to tamper with any of the drinks during the contest, and Smiler seems game, so the contest happens. They apparently win, and everybody gets a round of drinks to celebrate...
And the next equivalent-of-morning, the trio wake up with raging hangovers in one of the guest bedrooms of none other than Lord Governor Powerwallet's mansion in Whitecrown, with an Iruvian wildcat hanging out in the en-suite bathroom, a kidnapped Bob Wickerman of the Beornen cult (the cult based on the Wickerman ride at Alton Towers, which has a pretty nasty rivalry with the Advocates -- Bob in particular loathes Smiler, and the feeling is mutual) stuffed in the wardrobe, Victor sporting a new tattoo, and all three of them wearing rings that look like wedding bands. The trio thus have to retrace their steps and figure out what the fuck they did and how to fix any chaos they caused. And while I haven't quite figured out the story behind everything they did (the cat in particular is a mystery), I do know that the reason they're all wearing rings is because they got drunken-group-married at the Ministry of Joy...and while telling them this, the Advocates also reveal that, if they'd been sober enough to sign some paperwork, they could have gotten actually group married because of an interesting loophole in Duskwall's laws (basically, the government will recognize "unusual" marriages if they happen under the purview of a god that could be reasonably seen to back the marriage up -- and as Mar-Mal just wants all their Advocates to be happy, they'll back up pretty much ANY marriage). The trio are like "...why weren't we informed of this before?!" XD Anyway, they eventually get back to the pub, where they find the demon, deeply amused by everything -- as you might imagine, what happened is they tampered with the victory drink, as technically that drink was not part of the contest. XD They are delighted by the chaos though, and tell the group that they have earned themselves a boon for giving them a most entertaining night, no strings attached. And after confirming there are truly no strings, the trio tell them, "Okay, we just learned that we can actually get married if we do it under Mar-Mal -- we want you to do whatever is in your power to make sure our actual wedding goes well." The demon agrees, and there's a follow-up story about the trio getting properly group-married. :)
-->Speaking of stories based off of things I know mainly from pop-cultural osmosis, here's a tale that I would currently describe as a mixture of The Usual Suspects and the tropes "Rashomon"-Style and Once More With Clarity! This one has the trio at a Bluecoat station, having been arrested for a robbery that occurred the previous Names. The captain there doesn't think such a small crew could have pulled off the heist (which happened at a fancy house in Brightstone known for its security), but interrogates them anyway. All three cop to the theft, but tell contradicting stories about how they did it -- Alice says she stole the item by successfully fighting off the guards; Victor says he stole the item by using magic and distracting people with ghosts; and Smiler says they stole the item by talking their way past the guards and using their alchemicals against anyone who couldn't be charmed. The disgusted captain says that he doesn't believe any of them, that they're all just lying to try to get credit for a bigger score than they could pull off, and releases them. The trio reunite outside the station and talk about what they told the guy, and laughingly admit that the captain probably wouldn't have believed what really happened either -- cue a flashback to the actual time of the "robbery," which reveals that the couple being "robbed" were actually having a hell of a fight, and the wife threw the item that was "stolen" out the window -- nearly beaning poor Victor as the trio passed by (having just completed a different job). And when they objected to him nearly getting concussed by the item, she screamed "OH JUST TAKE IT" before going back to yelling at her husband. So they just took it and promptly pawned it. XD What can I say, I think I'm funny.
-->Back to things that I have actually personally experienced, here's a score that was inspired by an episode of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver -- specifically, the episode on freight trains and how miserable the safety standards around them are getting (you know, the one with a faux Thomas The Tank Engine episode at the very end narrated by Matt Berry). The story stuck with me, and resulted in me coming up with a score where the Three Pillars (now known as a group that will help unions and workers, not the factory owners and elites) get hired by two Rail Jacks named John Last and Oliver Weeks to help expose the lax safety standards the owners of the rail lines at Gaddoc Station are enforcing (not entirely sure HOW they would do that yet, but it's definitely something I want them to do). As an added twist, while skulking around the station, they end up encountering some Beornen trying to sabotage a train, which they have to prevent because it puts their own mission at risk. Might be a good way to introduce the whole "Advocates vs Beornen" dynamic, in fact!
-->Okay, so -- back in the very first post I made about various score and story ideas, I mentioned wanting to do one that is kicked off by Smiler overindulging their Pleasure vice at the Golden Plum restaurant, causing the owner and head chef, Chef Roselle (who, incidentally, I've discovered I've referred to by both "he" and "she" pronouns in previous write-ups, so now he's genderfluid and changes pronouns and presentation depending on how he wakes up feeling. Most people think she's a brother-sister team; the trio are one of the few who know the truth thanks to this score), to recognize them as an up-and-coming scoundrel and indulge in a little light blackmail to get the Three Pillars' assistance in getting rare ingredients for new dishes. Which the Three Pillars are reasonably happy to do, with the caveat that Smiler gets first taste of what results (which Chef Roselle is happy to agree to). Now, I'd already decided that the dish that Roselle is so keen to make would be the local equivalent of pineapple pizza (for the LOLs, and to give Smiler a chance to eat one of their favorite foods from the more modern AUs), so all I had to do was justify the pineapple's existence in Duskwall --
And then I came across a certain tumblr post showing off how pineapple skin is weirdly fire- and heat-resistant. Which contained within itself a link to another post about how 18th Century Europeans considered pineapples major status symbols (given they were new and exotic fruits from far-off lands and thus were worth up to $10,000 in modern money, so only the rich could really get their hands on them), and thus a whole business of allowing people to rent them to show off their wealth and make a splash at dinner parties and suchlike popped up. Cue me deciding that, okay, the local equivalent of pineapples in this universe is the Dragon's Bane fruit, named for its incredibly heat-resistant skin, which comes from the tropical Dagger Isles and is extremely hard to cultivate in Akoros's much colder climate. As a result, it's pretty damn expensive and considered a major status symbol by the rich, and some enterprising Dagger Isles merchants have set up a business allowing the upper classes to rent the fruit to show off to their buddies. Those merchants are not about to sell any fruit to Chef Roselle to be cooked, not without some proof that people will like the dish she's trying to make -- which puts her in a bit of a Catch-22 situation, as she can't prove people will like the dish without Dragon's Bane fruit to make it. So he turns to the Three Pillars, hiring them to get their hands on a Dragon's Bane however they can --
And oh, look at that, one Lord Rowan just rented one to show off at one of his parties. XD Cue the trio infiltrating the party and stealing the fruit, and Rowan being furious that they managed to get one over on him yet again. XD We do love humiliating the landlord of all of Six Towers over here!
-->Now, if you guys know anything about me, you know that, in addition to being the Queen of Valice and Valicer, I'm also a big Back To The Future fan -- that trilogy was my life for ages, and I still have a fondness for it and some of the related media (the Telltale Game in particular was freaking great -- the final episode of that was literally the only thing that could lure me away from Alice: Madness Returns when I first played it). So naturally I wanted to put Doc and Marty into my version of Duskwall! And while I was coming up with how they'd fit into the wider world (Doc in this universe is a Leech who travels around the city doing repairs in his motorized cart when he isn't working on his own inventions, with Marty as his assistant who aspires to be a great musician), I had a thought about doing a score with them. Not a time travel-related score, though -- rather, I wanted to explore the consequences of a rather poor decision Doc makes at the beginning of the first movie. You know, the whole "partnering with a Libyan terrorist group to steal plutonium, pretending to make them a bomb, and then giving them a dud made out of pinball machine parts while he took the plutonium to power his time machine" thing? The thing that nearly got him killed until Marty was able to use his accidental time travel to warn him? Yeah, that. I thought it might make for an interesting score if the Duskwall Doc had done something similar and wanted the Three Pillars' help in getting the gang he ripped off to leave him alone --
And then I thought, "Hey, wait a minute -- I was already planning on making the gang Doc ripped off Iruvian because that felt like the closest equivalent to Libyan in the setting...but the book already HAS a major Iruvian gang in there as one of the factions -- the Red Sashes! Why not make it so they're the ones Doc ripped off, and now the Three Pillars -- who have been desperately trying to avoid getting involved in that whole war between the Sashes and the Lampblacks in Crow's Foot -- have to help them in some way?"
And so I did! I haven't got the whole score planned out yet, but the gist of it is that Doc made a deal with the Red Sashes to get some parts he needed for an experiment in exchange for a bomb, only to give them a fake because he didn't want them to actually blow up anything and possibly kill people. The Red Sashes of course now want his blood, so Doc hires the Three Pillars to help him negotiate a deal that will keep him alive and poor Marty out of the line of fire. The Three Pillars are annoyed but take the job (Doc's offering them a decent amount of dosh, or possibly to build them something useful), and the Red Sashes task them with sabotaging the Lampblacks in some way. Maybe THEY'VE got their hands on a bomb, and the Sashes figure that, if Doc gave them a fake bomb to use against the Lampblacks, the least he can do is make sure the Lampblacks don't blow them up in turn? *shrug* I'm sure I'll figure it out when the time comes! Probably going to be a very tense score, that's for sure!
-->In contrast to the above, here's a fun, much more low-stakes score inspired by one of my favorite British TV shows -- Taskmaster! If you're unfamiliar with it, this is a comedy game show run by Greg Davies and Alex Horne, where each season five comedians go spend time in the Taskmaster house doing utterly ridiculous tasks. Greg watches back the footage of how they did and gives them points, and whoever gets the most points by the end of the season gets to take home a fake gold replica of his head. Oh, and each episode starts with an in-studio prize task, where contestants donate objects to win according to a certain theme, and whoever wins that particular episode gets to take all the objects home with them (if they so choose/are able to -- one contestant once offered HIMSELF as a prize. And then lost the episode. XD Phil Wang, I sincerely do hope you did end up spending a few days at James Acaster's place!). It's an incredibly funny show that I thoroughly recommend you check out -- and even better, it has its own YouTube channel, meaning even us Americans have an easy way to watch it! :D
Anyway -- how did I adapt this weirdness to Duskwall? Why, by making Greg and Alex the owners of a traveling Taskmaster carnival of sorts! They go around to various cities in the Imperium, find a place to set up, get the local gentry to donate some silly, moderately-valuable prizes according whatever theme they come up with, then get the local citizens to compete for them by doing a bunch of goofy tasks -- five people competing against each other per go. My idea for this was that the trio would come across Alex while he was scouting for contestants, learn about the whole thing, and go "you know what, sounds like fun" and sign up, competing against each other and two other citizens (who, like in my "Tasksaw" story, may in fact be the local equivalents of Josh Widdicombe and James Acaster XD). I was just wondering how best to do it, as of course if you're doing Taskmaster, you need a Taskmaster House to set the tasks in and around --
And then I was like, "hang on -- the trio live in Six Towers, a neighborhood that is known for having abandoned houses all over the shop. Maybe Greg and Alex take over one of those temporarily for their games?"
And then I was like, "Ooooh -- if they're doing that, then they'll have to get permission from Lord Rowan...who might see an opportunity to try and use them to get rid of the Three Pillars..."
So yes -- currently, things start out with the Taskmaster and his assistant arriving in town and going to Lord Rowan to get permission to use a house in Six Towers for their games. Lord Rowan grants permission (perhaps even contributes to the "prize task"), but lets them know that, if a certain trio come to compete, that he want them to "take care of them." Alex makes a note, and indeed Victor, Alice, and Smiler end up in the games --
And find that Alex is weirdly nice to them, in particular making sure they always have snacks and tea. Turns out Alex chose to interpret "take care of them" as "make sure they're having a good time," because the OTHER interpretation is against the spirit of the game, as the Taskmaster himself lets Lord Rowan know when the guy comes to complain that they're still alive. Greg is more than happy to MOCK contestants, sure, but MURDERING them? Come on, mate. Lord Rowan is VERY annoyed, as you can imagine. XD Of course, he may get some small consolation in that I can't guarantee that any of the trio are going to win their round, but I'm hoping not. XD The real fun of this one is going to be setting my three against some of the weirdest, best tasks from the show -- and there are a LOT of them, trust me. Gonna have to take some time and refresh my memory before writing this one!
-->While we're on the topic of scores and stories inspired by fun and silly stuff, how about one inspired by 2023's The Smiler Takeover at Alton Towers? This was an event that celebrated The Smiler coaster's tenth anniversary by having all the other rides get a bit of Smiler-related theming and setting up some fun stage shows around the coaster in X-Sector -- the Fear Test with Dr. Gladwell and Agent Joytide; Meet the Ministry with a contortionist and a magician; and The Celebration of Happiness with Felix E. Lated! Who, as you may recall, happens to be my Smiler's uncle. However, the thing about Felix is, while I was looking up stuff on the Takeover on YouTube, I discovered he had two very distinct looks during the event -- a brunet Felix with no glasses, and a blond one with glasses. The brunet Felix is the one who is Smiler's uncle (I saw him first, and he looks a bit more like the guy from the Smiler Shop TV video that serves as Smiler's adoptive dad, Matt), but while trying to come up with story ideas for the VITD verse, I thought I might be able to do something with the fact that there were two Felixes...
And cue the creation of a score where the trio are hired by some angry people who paid someone to entertain at their party, only for the guy to never show up. That someone being, apparently, Felix E. Lated. Causing the conversation to go like so:
Smiler: [nervous grin] Oh, uh -- sorry, there's a conflict of interest here. That's my uncle. Client: You're related to that blond bastard?! Smiler: ... [suddenly much more serious] My uncle has brown hair; can you describe this guy you hired?
Yup -- turns out there's a con man in town who is impersonating Felix despite not actually looking much like him, taking people's money for shows and then just never doing them. Smiler is of course like "well, this just became personal" and the trio get the help of the actual Felix to track this guy down and get the money back. I'm not sure how the actual tracking him down goes, but I do know that the score ends with Real Felix and Fake Felix having a sing-off --
And it turning out that Fake Felix can sing. Like, he's pretty much on-par with Real Felix. Smiler is immediately like "why don't you go legit and actually do the shows, you're good!" XD I don't know if Fake Felix will be convinced yet, but I wouldn't be opposed to the score ending with there being officially two Felix E. Lateds in town. XD
-->Time to return to "scores inspired by various video games I've played" -- now, you guys already know that when my friend Squid first got me into Baldur's Gate 3, my VITD trio immediately went "free real estate" and inspired me to come up with a crossover where they end up in the BG3 world thanks to Nautiloid Shenanigans, get infected, and have to find a way to get themselves and their new companions cured and get home (complete with Not-Incorrect Quote collection). However, I also came up with a much more standard score (aka no getting yanked into another universe necessary) inspired by the opening tutorial missions on the Nautiloid! This story starts with the trio being hired by a woodworker named Larian (known for his high-quality craftsmanship), who has been recently hired to make boxes for a group that he considers kind of shady. He wants the Three Pillars to look into what they're doing so he can figure out if he wants to keep working for them or not. The trio agrees and investigates, and finds that the boxes are being used to transport unconscious people for unknown purposes --
But partway through their investigation, they get separated, and Smiler is discovered, knocked out, and boxed up. Victor and Alice realize that they've been kidnapped and hide in some supply crates, and the trio all are transported to the bad guys' base. Smiler wakes up in the storage room for the people, manages to free themselves thanks to the lid not being nailed on correctly, and wanders around until they find some unfortunate dead guy sprawled in a chair with his brain exposed --
And the brain calling for help. And if you're thinking, "wait a minute, is this entire score an excuse to get Us into the canon Duskwall timeline," well, you're not entirely wrong. XD Anyway, Smiler successfully frees Us from their skull prison, and shortly thereafter reunites with Victor and Alice (who are somewhat concerned about the brain creature following Smiler around, but Smiler assures them it's friendly, and not their own brain, so...) Anyway, they find more experiments in their travels, and deduce that the bad guys are attempting to turn people into various Horrors, though they're not entirely sure why yet. They do agree that the group needs to be exposed, though, and start looking for a way off what they assume to be a regular boat --
And then suddenly the side of the vessel is clawed off by some demonic hands, and the trio abruptly realize they're in an airship hundreds of feet above the Void Sea. Well, that makes things more difficult. D: They flee to the helm as more devils start attacking, and find the leader of the bad guys fighting a large air demon -- apparently this guy made a deal with said demon to get this airship afloat and start making his Horrors (haven't actually DECIDED on the reason why, maybe it's just standard 'I want to take over the city mwahaha' bullshit), but has not appropriately satisfied the demon's dark desire in return. And when you fail to satisfy a demon's dark desire, they get to work toward your destruction, so... The trio quickly realize that the bad guys are going to be hoist by their own petard very shortly and resuming looking for an escape. Fortunately, the airship does have lifeboats on the side in case of emergency, and the trio and Us are able to scramble into one --
But, unfortunately, as they start lowering themselves down, the demons attacking the airship notice them and decide to start harassing them too, trying to knock them out of the boat just for fun. Leading to what I think is one of the more badass scenes I've come up with for the trio: Victor -- who, at this point, has figured out the Meta word to make things levitate, but has only levitated light stuff, like books -- clamping his hands onto the sides of the boat as Smiler holds Us safely on their lap, then looking at Alice and saying "Do it" --
And Alice, a la that moment in the Jules Verne Otherlands short, using her Vorpal Blade to slice all the ropes holding them up. Cue the boat plummeting toward the Void Sea below, and Victor desperately pushing himself as hard as he can to make the spell affect the boat so the drop isn't fucking fatal. He does succeed, but it takes a lot out of him --
And oh, I imagine this taking place after he's picked up his "Phobia" trauma of the Void Sea and everything in it, so the minute they land, he's also fighting off a panic attack. ...At least until Us starts eating his fear, leading him to be like "wtf why am I calm now." (Us: Spicy!) He actually appreciates it once they figure out what's going on (though Alice gently scolds Us to "ask first next time"), and they manage to get themselves back to shore as the airship crashes into the water. Cue the gang insisting Larian pay them more (which he is happy to do when they explain what they just went through), and getting a new "pet"/companion in Us, who -- as per their home canon -- uses their powers to disguise themselves as a kitty to the rest of the city. :) Because brain kitty is best kitty.
-->Like scores based on CRPGs that everyone agrees are some of the best games ever? Well, here's one based on everyone's favorite vampire game, Vampire: The Masquerade -- Bloodlines! Or, rather, the Unofficial Patch version of that game, as the score in question is based on one of the cut quests that the Unofficial Patch restores -- "Night At The Library!" If you're unfamiliar with it, this is a quest you get via e-mail from Beckett (after meeting Gary Golden and completing the "More Fun With Pestilence" sidequest Downtown), where he asks you to meet with an associate of his, Scott, in Santa Monica. Which leads you on a wander all around Santa Monica tracking down the notes Scott left behind, and then infiltrating the library Downtown to rescue him from a Sabbat ritual and kill the Lasombra overseeing it. It's a fun little quest, and I thought it might be amusing to inflict it on my crime trio. XD
So! The Duskwallian version of this nonsense (perhaps called "Eternal Night At The Library" because, well, Duskwall does have eternal night) starts with the trio meeting the visiting Beckett, who in this reality is one of the contacts for the Advocates -- they occasionally work together to help Beckett learn more about the history of the world and its forgotten gods. Beckett is still a vampire in this verse, but he's a BITD-style one, meaning he feeds on life essence instead of blood -- he's still got the classic cat-like red eyes and claws though, since I've decided he's from Tycheros, a land where everyone has demonic ancestry and thus demonic "tells" on their body. Anyway, the group is introduced, and Beckett asks if they'd be willing to go meet with his friend Scott in a smoke shop in Silkshore about a cult they've been investigating recently while he attends to business somewhere else in the city. The trio are game, and go to the shop --
Only to find Scott isn't there -- but he did leave a note. Which leads them to a coffee shop at the edge of Crow's Foot, where another note leads them to a particular pier on The Docks -- where Victor's ability to sense supernatural creatures helps them avoid an ambush by another vampire. They manage to defeat it (I'm thinking by knocking it into the water, as vampires are pretty damn tough opponents) and find a hastily-scrawled note stained with blood directing them to a library in Charterhall -- which, fortunately, was where Beckett was going anyway. So they catch up with him and bring him up to speed, and together they infiltrate the library and find a secret passage into a basement, where they discover poor Scott's life essence being used to fuel some dark ritual by a couple of members of the cult he was investigating. The gang and Beckett stop the ritual, and a fight ensues with the leader of the cult, who has control over a demon that lets him manipulate Shadows. It's a tough battle, but the trio and Beckett prevail, and Scott is saved. Beckett and Scott thank the trio for their help, and perhaps in addition to some Coin, the trio also get a Duskwallian version of one of the occult powerup items from the game -- Beckett may not actually hand any of them over in canon, but I'm sure he could get his hands on one of them!
-->And now a brief return to scores based on things I have not directly experienced but have read about, with a major story based on an episode of Leverage! Which, as I understand it, is an excellent show about people using their crime skills to help the helpless and take down corrupt rich bastards that I should be watching, but finding time for new things is unfortunately difficult. *sigh* Anyway -- one of the reasons that I'm aware of Leverage is that it has its own OT3 of Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer, and thus I keep running into it when I look up OT3/polyamory stuff (memorably, finding someone's Leverage OT3 video for the song "Parachute" led to it becoming one of my favorite songs for my Valicer trio -- and hilariously, I do specifically associate it with the VITD version XD). And looking up where a particular awesome gif set of the trio disarming a bomb came from led to me learning about the episode "The Rundown Job," where Hardison, Eliot, and Parker all have to stop someone from releasing a horrifying biological weapon on D.C. in a twisted attempt to prove that the United States is not equipped to deal with such an attack. I was like, "well, that's dark and I'd love to do something with that for VITD," but the idea wasn't quite gelling in my head as a disease-based threat --
And then I remembered Duskwall is a city full of ghosts and horrors, turned my thoughts toward the trio taking on a supernatural threat instead, and -- well. The story as it currently stands in my head starts with the trio having been arrested again (perhaps by the same guy from the "Rashomon"-style story, who now knows not to underestimate them) -- but while they're waiting interrogation, a Spirit Warden arrives and asks to talk to them. The request is granted, and the Warden proceeds to tell the three that one of their own has gone rogue and decided to solve the Shattered Isle's ghost problem once and for all --
By summoning a soul-devouring Horror to lay waste to the city. His fellow Wardens tried to tell him that the damn thing wouldn't stop with just eating the souls of the dead, it would consume every soul in the Shattered Isles, but he wouldn't listen, and now he's locked himself up in his house, preparing the ritual. The Spirit Wardens can't get inside because the guy has naturally warded his house against them, and this has happened so fast that they haven't been able to get any other factions to help (not to mention, they're not sure how effective the local Bluecoats really would BE against this thing). Plus they don't want to cause a panic by spreading the word around willy-nilly. And at this point, not only do the trio have a bit of a reputation as "freaking unkillable," the Spirit Wardens are well aware that they can do things like take down a Jabberwock in the Deathlands, so... The Warden gives Alice a special knife that can kill the Horror so long as it's still in the book that it's currently trapped in, draws them a quick map to the house from the police station, and helps them escape. The trio naturally BOOK it to the house and manage to work their way past traps both mundane (I of COURSE have to have my own version of the bomb defusing scene) and mystical, and make it to the basement to stop the guy --
But while they reach him in time to prevent him completing the ritual, he's managed to do enough of it that the Horror is partially free of the book and trying to claw its way out on its own. And with Alice and Smiler locked up in making sure the guy can't finish what he started, Victor does the only thing he can think of --
Throws himself on the book to keep it closed, sacrificing his soul to save Duskwall. Alice manages to finally knock the guy out not long thereafter and stabs the book, murdering the half-summoned Horror, but for a moment it looks like Victor's been Hollowed in his attempt to save the city...
Then he slumps to the floor, calling for Alice and Smiler in a weak voice. Turns out his soul wasn't entirely eaten (though he very much is suffering Level 3 "Soul Mostly Devoured" harm), and Alice and Smiler are able to get him home so Elder Gutknecht can have a look at him. Gutknecht tells them that it was a near thing, but there's enough of Victor's soul left to slowly regenerate, though it will take some time. Alice and Smiler are very grateful, though they do wonder why Victor's entire soul wasn't eaten --
Cue Victor whispering, "It couldn't...get past...the glass." Which Alice and Smiler realize in shock refers to the "unbreakable bell jar" they had Victor imagine around the core of himself back when they first started playing with hypnosis as a new polycule. AKA, their post-hypnotic suggestion (designed to make sure their games couldn't mess with his core personality) straight up saved his soul. As you might imagine, they have a lot of feelings about this, as do I. End of the score involves Alice and Smiler collecting their payment from the Spirit Wardens (which fortunately includes things like a vial of pure life essence that they can use to speed up Victor's recovery) and a lot of cuddling.
-->And finally, let's end with a story based on, and titled after, a song -- "Used To Be Young." I've talked before about how this particular Miley Cyrus song makes me think about the trio in their older years -- specifically, when they choose to retire -- so I figured, why not turn the music video into my head into an actual story? As per the linked post, the plot would focus around the trio's very last score as the Three Pillars, stealing something random from some rich toffs...and having a harder time than they expected thanks to not being as young as they used to be -- Victor nearly falls while climbing something and it takes him longer to recover; Alice isn't as fast on her feet while fighting some guards and gets hurt; Smiler -- actually, I'm not entirely sure how Smiler is affected yet, since they're the charming alchemist of the group, but I'll figure it out. XD Point is, while they pull off the job, it's more work than they expected, and a few injuries are suffered...
And while Smiler is patching them up back at their lair, Victor admits that he's not sure he can do this anymore. Some discussion reveals that it's been like 30 years since they first met and became the Three Pillars (putting them in their late 40s), and they all decide that that's MORE than enough time spent as career criminals. So they deliver the item to the client and ask them to please spread the word that the Three Pillars have officially retired. From there, they decide to check in on the greenhouse to see how that's going, and we get some major indications of how long it's been and how much they've affected the world around them. The specific ones I have in mind are:
a) The greenhouse being bigger than it used to be and absolutely FLOURISHING, with a whole staff of people tending to it
b) Six Towers in general being in much better shape, with working streetlamps, well-paved roads, and houses in much better repair
c) Smiler maybe encountering their now-elderly parents and letting them know that they're actually free to take over the shop they run for the Advocates now, giving them a happy retirement in Mar-Mal's grace
d) Alice DEFINITELY encountering the grown-up Angela and Charlie, who are now married and have at least one child, a baby girl named Beth -- who, yes, has a familiar rabbit doll
And after all that, the gang gets to go home, have supper, and head to bed, reminiscing on the good times and looking forward to the years ahead. :) Just a nice little epilogue showing that things have turned out very well for our favorite trio.
...yeah, that really went longer than I expected. XD But I hope that all impresses upon you just how much I love this universe and how much I want to write all the things for it. Hopefully you're with me in wanting to see what adventures the trio gets up to going forward! Now I just have to get this all into a rough timeline...
#valicer in the dark au#valicer#corpse bride#alice madness returns#the smiler#blades in the dark#worldbuilding#storybuilding#ARE YOU CONVINCED YET THAT I LOVE THIS UNIVERSE#honestly the amount of 'let's throw things that I love in here' probably makes this some sort of mirror to Secundus#arguably there's fewer characters from different properties living in my Duskwall#but even still#look I just really love coming up with ideas for scores and stories for these three#and there's a surprising number of things from other stuff I found I could adapt#hell even some of these surprised me#wasn't expecting to do anything with Alice: Asylum but inspiration struck#(if you're wondering so far only VITD's Radcliffe was working with Bumby#all the other Radcliffes in my other universes are more garden-variety jerks#which is bad but not NEARLY as bad as that yikes)#and the pineapple one was quite the happy accident#really looking forward to that one#looking forward to ALL of them honestly#I can't wait to shove more of these stories on all of you XD#queued
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