#again seniors discount if you remember when i drew all these

[stayatsam]

Feeling blue (OC)

[topsytervy]

Rented ~ Rafe Cameron

Blurb: Rafe decides to pay your brother Barry to rent you as his date for midsummers and it turns into something a little more.

Word Count: 4,516

Warnings: mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking, swearing, canon Rafe in the beginning, age gap (16 and 19), probably spelling errors, kind of horribly written towards the end, i think that’s all.

I just want to say that it’s not okay to rent out your friends or family members without their consent or just in general so...don’t be Barry. Also, google told me age of consent in North Carolina is 16 but THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. I DO NOT CONDONE A RELATIONSHIP WHERE ONE (OR MORE) OF THE PEOPLE IN A RELATIONSHIP IS A MINOR AND THE OTHER (OR OTHERS) IS AN ADULT. I DO NOT CONDONE IT AND DO NOT RECOMMEND IT. THIS IS PURELY FICTION AND FOR THE STORY.

~~~~~

Being Barrys younger sister sucked ass. 

He was your legal guardian until you were 18 and he couldn't care less about your well-being if you were being honest. It was well-known that Barry was your brother after all the times he dragged you home from somewhere or constantly called you, telling you to get home. If you opted for turning off your phone, he'd come looking for you or offer someone a gram at half-price if they brought you home.

There was the one time you were at the chateau late one night and he told you that if you weren’t home by 10, you'd be sleeping outside cause he wasn’t going to get up to unlock the door.

JJ dropped you off at 10:01 and, sure enough, a blanket and pillow were sitting on the porch for you. When JJ stopped by later to drop off your phone that you left behind on accident, he saw you sleeping on the ground and took a crowbar to your window.

JJ seemed to be the only one who liked you for you. 

Most of the time when people approached you and became your friend, they did it because they thought that being your friend meant discounted coke. 

It didn't. Frankly, Barry didn’t want you sticking your nose in his little empire. You minded your business and he minded his for the most part.

JJ was probably the first real friend you had. It was very simple of how the friendship formed, he saw someone push you, and he punched them. Why? You don’t know. That was just JJ Maybank for you. 

You repaid the favor the next day when a girl poured her water on him and you broke her nose for him. He laughed as you passed him your sweatshirt so he could dry himself off before you were dragged to the office.

You had also tried convincing Barry to stop selling to Luke Maybank but Barry just said "money is money. I’m not turning away a paying customer just so your little boyfriend can be happy. My happiness comes first. How do you think I feed you?"

8th grade was a wild year.

The first time you ever met Rafe was when he was a senior in high school and you were a freshman.

There was a kegger on the beach and you were on keeping JJ under control duty like every other time. It was a well-known fact around that you could talk JJ down from a fight and keep him from pounding people’s faces in. After all, you liked to avoid conflict and would rather have problems talked out rather than fought out.

So it was no shock when Topper, Kelce, and Rafe showed up and stood in front of you guys for their beers, you had a hand on JJs shoulder and shooting him a glance.

Thankfully, you got through filling their cups without any words said and the party went smoothly for the most part until Topper and JJ got a bit too close to each other.

All you remember is coming back from the bathroom and being dragged to where JJ currently had Topped in a headlock.

"Yo, Y/N! Get your boy off of him!" Rafe had yelled at you. 

You rolled your eyes and flipped him off before rushing over to the two boys.

 You grabbed JJs bicep and leaned in close to him so he could hear you. "J, he's had enough. Let him go." 

JJ hesitated before releasing Topper who immediately had Rafe and Kelce by his side.

Rafe glared at JJ before turning to you. "You better keep your bitch under control before he ends up like his dad."

Your grip tightened on JJ as you held him back from pouncing again. JJ spat some blood into the sand and you handed him to John B before walking over to the older boy.

"You better watch your mouth Rafe before it gets you in trouble." You said evenly.

"Oh really? What? You gonna call your coke dealer brother to come fuck me up?" He practically spat in your face.

You didn’t say anything, just drew back your fist and let it connect with his nose.

"No. I'll do it myself." You hissed, leaning down so only he would hear you as he held his nose.

And that was your first-ever direct interaction meeting with Rafe Cameron. 

It sucked ass and you would’ve thought you two would’ve killed each other the next time you two met.

Except, you didn’t kill each other.

You were so adjusted to him coming in and out of the trailer for coke that you were unfazed when you walked out of your bedroom to see Rafe handing Barry money, a smirk present on his lips as he walked past you and out the door.

"Wow. Kooky cokehead seemed real happy this time. What? You give him a 25% off coupon for his next purchase." You joked, flopping down on the couch.

"No. He left empty-handed. And 200 bucks poorer." Barry grinned, counting out the money.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why on God's green earth would Rafe fork over 200 dollars only to leave empty-handed?

"Guess who's going to midsummer’s as Rafe Cameron’s date?" Barry looked at you with a smile.

Your eyes widened as you stood up. "You rented me to Rafe Cameron without my consent! I'm 16! He's 19!"

"Legal age of consent is 16 here. Besides, it’s not like he asked to fuck you. He just needed a date to midsummers and he wanted to take you." Barry explained, walking towards his room. 

"Jokes on you! The only dress I have is from 5th grade!" 

"Jokes on you cause country clubs gonna be taking care of your wardrobe for the night!" 

You let out a yell of frustration before turning around and walking put the door, hopping onto your bike, and booking it to the beach.

You ditched your bike at the bike rack and ran down the beach searching for your friends. You let pit a breath when you saw Kie and Pope sitting on the sand. 

"Hey Y/N/N. You look like you've seen a ghost. What’s up?" Pope asked once you were close enough. 

"Where's JB and JJ?" You panted, slightly out of breath from running across the sand. 

Kie nodded out towards the water and you watched as JJ surfed a wave with John B. You crossed your arms and watched your two friends make their way back to shore. JJ grinned as he approached you, surfboard under his arm, shaking his hair and causing water droplets to hit your exposed arm.

"Look who finally showed up." The blonde laughed, slinging his arm around you.

"Sorry, I was held up for a few extra minutes because Barry decided that he'd rent me out to Rafe Cameron for Midsummers!" You told him, voice getting louder and angrier with each word you spoke.

"Please tell me that’s a joke." John B looked at you.

"I wish it fucking was! Rafe stopped by, gave Barry 200 bucks to rent me for a night, and then walked out." 

"That’s crazy," JJ said, surfboard long forgotten in the sand.

You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by a familiar and unwelcomed voice.

"Hey, Y/N. Haven’t seen you in a bit." 

You and your friends turned to face Rafe, feelings JJs arm tighten around your shoulders.

"You saw me an hour ago tops."

Rafe smirked, hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to let you know that I made an appointment for you to get your measurements taken for your dress. It’s over on the mainland at 11:00 tomorrow."

"What’s the name of the place and I'll take her to the appointment?" Kie crossed her arms over her chest as she spoke.

Rafe shot her a glance before looking back at you. "I’m picking you up at about 9:30 so be ready."

"Hey, jackass. Kie said she would take her. Just tell her the name of the joint." JJ took his arm from around you and took a step towards Rafe 

"Y/N/N, your bitch needs to be put in check," Rafe told you calmly as he looked into your eyes.

You grabbed JJs wrist as he went to lunge and looked at Rafe. "One moment, please. I need to converse with my friends."

Rafe watched you lazily as you tugged your friends away from the older boy. 

"This is really bad timing considering we're in the middle of finding 400 mill," JJ whispered.

"Kie, you gotta stay here and help Pope keep JJ and John B put of trouble and help him reason with them." You told her. 

"And leave you alone with the Kook prince?" John B looked at you like you were crazy.

"I’ll be fine. I'll bring pepper spray." You reassured them.

They all looked at each other before sighing and nodding.

Before you could leave, JJ grabbed your wrist. "If things get weird, send me an SOS and I'll be there ASAP. Even if I have to paddle my way to the mainland." 

You nodded and made your way towards Rafe. "Just don’t try to engage in a conversation with me right away. Unless it’s 10 AM or I've had caffeine, I don’t talk in the mornings." You informed the older boy.

"I'll see you then, angel." Rafe sent you a wink before turning to walk away.

You caught JJs arm, knowing your best friend was close to tackling the kook boy into the sand to pound his face in.

JJ turned to you, leaning in close to your ear to speak. "I’m serious. First red flag, you call or text me. I highly doubt consent is a word in Rafe Cameron’s dictionary."

****

You saw Rafe more in the 4 days leading up to midsummers than you had in a year and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.

The first day was the day you needed your measurements taken. The dress had already been picked out and you ignored the fact that the tailor said that it was about time you two came because he was ready to put it back on the rack after day 3 of holding it.

You stood there, completely out of your comfort zone as measurements were taken and jotted down onto a notepad. 

"How quickly can you get the dress altered?" Rafe asked from the couch, watching the process.

"Depends Mr. Cameron. How quickly do you need it?" The tailor responded.

Rafe rubbed his face, groaning. "Let’s see. Four- four and a half days and that’s counting today. We're coming back to the island on the day of midsummers to pick everything else up, today is just a looking day. So, three days." 

The tailor nodded. "We can do that. We'll make it a top priority."

Rafe nodded before his eyes met with yours. 

The tailor exited the room for something and that’s when you spoke. "A looking day?"

"Yeah. Browse through the jewelry and heels and anything else necessary for midsummers." He glanced down to where you were fiddling with your fingers and immediately pulled out his phone. "And a manicure. Might as well throw in a pedicure." 

"Rafe," you said. He didn’t look up from his phone, probably looking at nail salons nearby. "Rafe." You tried again and still nothing. You sighed before walking over to him. "Rafe!" You went to snatch his phone but he caught your wrist. 

"I heard you the first time now what?" He hissed.

You wrenched your wrist away from him. "How could I know when you didn’t even pay me a glance? At least acknowledge me so I know you heard me and then I wouldn't keep saying your name and get on with what I need to say." You huffed.

"Maybe I like it when you say my name." He smirked.

You rolled your eyes as you felt your face heat up, praying that he either would mistake it for a sudden sunburn or would just ignore it.

"What did you want to say?" He asked, stretching out a bit.

"I’m not wearing heels. I can barely walk in my sneakers without breaking a bone. How the hell am I supposed to do heels?" 

Rafe sat there for a few seconds, chewing on his lip before sighing. "What are your thoughts on little miss perfect?"

"Who?"

"My sister. Sarah. Little miss perfect." Rafe rolled his eyes.

You shrugged. You never really even talked to Sarah except for the whole 'get your friend of my boyfriend' fiasco at the boneyard that one night, but that was more towards Kie than you.

"Tomorrow, she’s teaching you how to walk in heels. Even if I have to hold a gun to her head." Rafe finished as the tailor walked back in.

You grimaced at his choice of words as the tailor reassured Rafe that he would get started right away on the dress and make sure it was perfect for the event. 

Rafe smiled, thanked the man for his time, and then beckoned you to follow him out the door. You shot the tailor a smile and a thank you before following Rafe out the door.

"You hungry?" He asked once you both were out on the street. 

You shrugged once again, shoving your hands into your pockets.

Rafe sighed. "You know, you're going to have to talk to me. Like civil, full sentences, classy conversation." 

"I do know how to be civil Rafe. After all, I haven’t swung on quite yet but depending on how the rest of the day goes, maybe that will change." You answered him before looking at his face, "Is that enough sentences for you?"  

You saw him hold back a smile before training his blue eyes on you. "Just answer the question. You hungry or not?"

You smiled. "I guess I could eat."

"Then let’s go eat then get your nails done."

The second day was nothing completely insane. All you did, was sit about until Rafe dropped by, which was the shortest amount of time you spent with him in those four days. Only being with him for an hour that day for literally no reason. 

"Get dressed. We're going out." He told you when you answered the door.

You sighed, looking down at your pajamas.  "But I’m comfy."

Rafe smiled, shaking his head. "Seriously, come on. Let’s get dinner at the Wreck and then eat it at the beach or something." 

“Was this in the itinerary?”

“Not in the slightest but I’m bored and I’m sure you are too.”

You pursed your lips before nodding. "Alright." 

"That didn’t take much convincing." He commented.

"Well, your offering dinner so I’m not gonna say no." 

"You sure that’s all it is."

You looked back to see Rafe’s signature smirk on his face.

"Don’t let it go to your head, Cameron." 

Rafe rolled his eyes before pushing you in the direction of your room. "Go get dressed. I don’t want anyone else seeing you in your pajamas."

You rolled your eyes with a small smile before walking into your room, leaving Rafe in the hallway.

The evening on the third day was Sarah teaching you how to successfully walk in heels without you ending up in the hospital. 

"Why the hell are these so tall?" You asked, looking up at Sarah and Rafe who sat on the couch.

"Good question. Why are they so tall, Sarah? I said to teach her how to walk in heels, not break her ankles before midsummers." Rafe looked at his younger sister.

"You wanted her to learn how to walk in heels, those are heels. I don’t know what else you expected Rafe." Sarah shot at her brother.

"I don't know, something that still has her feet somewhat horizontal to the ground, not diagonal." Rafe glared at her.

"Then you should’ve bought heels for her to practice in."

"Oh, so it’s my fault?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." 

Rafe didn’t respond, just stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Sarah rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to you.

"Okay, I might have a pair that’s an inch shorter." 

"Bring them out."

You ended up spending the night at the Camerons that night, much to the pogues displeasure.

You just got done brushing your teeth and were laying on Sarah’s bed in a pair of her pajamas when Sarah spoke up.

"So, John B…" 

You shot your head up from the book you found in her room that looked somewhat interesting.

"What about John B?" 

"What’s he like? You know, besides a surfer dude and a felon."

You raised an eyebrow. "What the hell are you on about?"

"He seems… I don’t know… not boring. Not bland. So much better than this life." Sarah sighed, flopping onto her back, arms stretched out.

"Barf in my mouth." You rolled your eyes.

"What? You've never looked at someone and felt a smile tug at your lips for no reason or they look at you and you feel like you are the most gorgeous person in the world. They give you a rush of adrenaline or… or make your head all cloudy."

"Oh my god. You barely even know John B. He's like every other teenage guy. Disgusting, horny, and hungry." You answered. 

Sarah sat up. "That’s the thing. We hung out the entire day today. That’s why I told Rafe to have you come over in the evening. Because I was gone all day."

"So you asked me to spend the night to talk about one of my best friends so you can get in his pants. You've got Topper." You rolled your eyes, getting up from the bed.

"No." She grabbed my wrist. "I think I really like him. He takes me away from the bubble wrap. It’s exciting, the life you guys live. Topper doesn’t take me away from the bubble wrap. If anything, he adds more. When I kissed John B-"

You looked at her. "Wait. What? Listen I like Topper about as much as I like brussel sprouts but I don’t think he deserves his girlfriend kissing another dude before she gets the balls to break up with him." 

"It just happened. And it felt...amazing. I felt breathless like I was on cloud 9." She smiled, ignoring the last bit.

"I'm sure you did. I’m gonna go get some water." You excused yourself.

"Wait." She called.

You turned to look at the blonde and she chucked a pair of heels at you. "Put those on and walk downstairs."

You rolled your eyes before slipping the shoes onto your feet and proceeding put of her room.

Rafe was in the kitchen, snacking on some chips while he was scrolling through his phone. His head shot up when he heard the sound of heels on the stairs. 

He looked towards the entrance of the kitchen and smiled when he saw you enter. 

"You look ridiculous wearing pajamas and heels." He commented. 

You feigned offense, staring at the older boy. "You mean this isn't fashionable? I call it sleeping chic." You did a twirl and Rafe chuckled.

"You know what? It looks wonderful." Rafe placed his arms on the table and leaned forward, watching your every move.

"Your sister threw them at me before I came downstairs. I assume for me to practice but, not to toot my own horn, I think I’m getting the hang of walking in them."

"Go ahead and toot your horn cause if you waltzed up to me at a party the same way you did coming into the kitchen, I would've thought you've been wearing heels your entire life." 

"Why thank you." You grinned, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. 

You walked over to the island and slid into the seat next to Rafe, opening the bottle before taking a drink.

"You know something, Rafe?" 

"Hmm."

"I haven’t hated spending these past few days with you. You're surprisingly not that annoying." 

Rafe sent you a smile. "Yeah?" 

You nodded, looking at him.

"I haven’t hated spending these days with you either." He nudged you with his shoulder.

You stood up as you grabbed your water before placing a hand on his shoulder.  "See you tomorrow."

"Yep. Don’t forget we’re going to the mainland tomorrow to pick up everything." He cleared his throat.

You nodded and said goodnight before heading back upstairs and into Sarah’s room, shutting the door behind you.

The night of midsummer was hectic. You and Rafe quickly went to the mainland to pick up the dress, heels, and accessories before grabbing some lunch.

It wasn’t long before you asked Rafe to drop you off at Kie’s to get ready. You had a shower before Kie and her mom helped you get ready, her mom gushing about how Rafe will drop dead when he sees you.

You were blushing bright red at the thought as Kie rolled her eyes before you quickly excused yourself so you could change into your dress and pull on your heels that were picked up earlier that day. Rafe insisted on getting you a necklace but you declined once you saw the price tag, telling him you had a nice pair of earrings and a bracelet at home you could wear that you'd ask Kie to pick up.

After Kiara’s mom took pictures, you were at the event, completely out of your element as you tried to find Rafe which was weirdly difficult considering his height.

You heard a low whistle and whipped around, tensing slightly before relaxing. Rafe stood there in a baby blue suit, a small smile on his face as he looked at you.

"You look stunning, Y/N." He complimented.

You felt your cheeks heating up again as you spoke. "Thanks. You look rather dashing yourself."

His smile grew before he offered you his arm. "Shall we mingle?"

You linked your arm through his. "If we have to."

****

After half an hour of mingling and Rafe getting you both a drink, Rafe set down his empty glass. 

"Let’s dance, angel." 

You sighed, slightly flushing at the nickname this time around, before finishing off your drink and setting down the glass. You followed Rafe onto the dance floor and placed your hands on his shoulders as his own went to your waist.

You two swayed side to side, a silence hanging over the two of you for a bit before you broke it.

"Why me?" 

"Hmm." 

"Why did you pay Barry to rent me for a night when any kook girl here would’ve gone with you and it wouldn’t have cost you anything?" You asked quietly.

You saw Rafe swallow before answering. "I...I…don't really know.” He lied, feeling his breathing pick up slightly.

"Rafe. Breathe." You told him.

He did as you said before looking around, his eyes narrowing. 

"I'll be right back." He muttered, removing his arms from your waist and starting to walk away.

"Rafe," You said, grabbing his wrist.

He turned to look at you before turning back to where his eyes were previously looking, chewing on his bottom lip in thought.

You followed his gaze to see JJ looking at you, concern written on your best friend’s face. 

"Leave him alone, Rafe. He’s not doing anything. Just….lets keep dancing." 

Rafe’s eyes went back to yours and he nodded slowly.

You mouthed a quick I’m fine to JJ before putting your hands back on Rafe’s shoulders. 

"Can I tell you something? Well, a couple of things." 

You nodded.

"Well, for starters, I've been trying to get off coke."

"That’s great, Rafe." You grinned, squeezing his shoulders with your hands.

"It’s hard. But I find it easier to not think about getting high when...um...you're with me." Rafe admitted, feeling his cheeks getting hot.

You felt your breathing pick up and tried your best to keep it under control. "Really?" You breathed out.

He nodded before taking his hands off your waist and reaching into his pocket. "I know you said no to me getting you that one necklace but here. I picked this up when you were at the nail salon that day we were getting your dress altered." 

Rafe handed you a little box and you could practically feel the nervousness radiating off of him as you took it in your own shaking hands. Rafe, for the first time in ages, felt shy in front of a girl and scared of being rejected.

You opened the box to see a little necklace resting in the box, the word angel attached to it. 

"How much was it?" You asked, not wanting him to spend any more money on you than he needed to for this event.

Too late though.

Rafe scratched the back of his neck as he looked down. "I’d rather not answer that question."

Your eyes widened and you smacked his chest. "Rafe Cameron!" You whispered harshly before putting it back in his hands. "I can't accept and keep that. I already planned on giving you the dress and heels back and paying you back for the manicure and pedicure. I can’t keep this in good conscience just because I agreed to be your date tonight. You don’t have to give me a present, you already paid Barry and bought this shit."

Rafe licked his lips as he looked around before looking back towards you. "I shouldn’t have paid Barry unless I was renting Barry, I should've paid you. I technically should've just asked you without paying but I was nervous and I was scared. I knew Barry would let me take you out for the right price and I took advantage of it. It’s just- I caught feelings for you somehow in the last month okay. Like actual feelings and I- I think you're-"

"An angel. Your angel." You finished for him.

Rafe nodded sheepishly before shoving the box back into his pocket. "I always turned to coke for comfort and I feel like when I’m with you, I don’t need to turn to coke for that comfort. I can turn to you. I’m sorry. It’s stupid, I'll just go." 

Rafe turned around but you grabbed him yet again. "It’s not stupid." You whispered before pressing your lips to his.

Rafe was surprised for a second before he kissed back, his hands coming up to cup your face.

After you two pulled away, Rafe smiled. "Does this mean you'll take the necklace?"

You nodded before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the box. 

"Can you?" You asked, gesturing towards the box.

"I would love to." He said, taking the necklace in his hands and placing it around your neck, doing the clasp in the back. 

"Told you she would catch feelings in those four days," Pope stated as he looked at JJ.

JJ clenched his jaw before turning away. "I gotta go find Sarah."

~~~~~

[detectivejigsawpines]

Relatively Relativity-part 3 (If you give a grunkle Mabel Juice)

Whoa...that was a crazy weird dream…where am I?

Soos slowly opened his eyes-and screamed again when he saw an unfamiliar, wrinkly old man staring down at him anxiously.

“Aaaaah!  Who are you?!  What do you want?!  Where’s Mr. Pines?!”

The old man sighed, and leaned his chin on his hand.  “This is gonna be a recurring thing, isn’t it?”

Something about that voice...plus the thick lumberjack hat perched on his head that looked a lot like the one Wendy used to wear…

“Wait a sec.”  Soos sat up, realizing that he was on the sofa in his break room (even if he was technically in charge now, he still used it as such).  He narrowed his eyes at the old man.  “...Dipper?”

Dipper smiled at him-and even though he was all gray and wrinkled now, Soos could see his buddy peeking out through his face.  “Yeah, Soos.  It’s me.  There was...a bit of an incident on our hike.”

Before Soos could ask for more details, the door burst open again, and the same kid who’d scared him earlier came tramping in, followed by an old woman in a purple sweater who had to be a newly-old Mabel.

“Is he awake yet?”

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper scolded, whirling around to glare at him, “I told you to wait until I called you!”

“Yeah, yeah.”  He brushed his curls out of his face, and grinned at Soos shamelessly, showing that he had a tooth missing.  “How d’ya like the new look?”

Soos’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times as he looked over the little guy standing in front of him.  Finally he asked, voice quivering a little, “...Mr. Pines?”

“Uh-huh.  New and improved!”  He put his hands on his hips and puffed out his skinny chest as far as it would go.

The smile was wiped off his face when Soos finally registered the truth that he’d been resisting, but could not be ignored: “You’re adorable now, Mr. Pines!!!!”

Immediately his still-pretty-bushy eyebrows drew together in a scowl.  “Say that again and you’re fired!”

Soos shrank away at once.  Anything but that!

“He’s the boss of the Mystery Shack now, you can’t fire him!” old-Mabel protested.

“I’m the one who gave him the job, so I can so!”

“But you shouldn’t!  Not for this!”

Stan folded his arms and turned away, grumbling.

“Wait a minute.  If you guys have switched ages, does that mean that Other Mr. Pines is ad-” he saw the warning glare in Stan’s eye, and quickly changed words- “a kid now too?”

“Yeah; he’s down in the basement analyzing the thing that made us like this.”  Mabel sat down on the other end of the sofa.  “We were hiking, and saw this really cool flower…”

********

Ford realized fairly quickly some more of the deficiencies of his new body.  For one thing, when he got to the basement he started to put on his lab coat-only to remember after doing so that his arms and legs were both a lot smaller, so very quickly he was swamped in seemingly an avalanche of white.  He tried rolling up the sleeves, and then pinning them up with safety pins, until at last he gave up in frustration and just hung it back on the rack (causing him further annoyance, because while he wasn’t that short, he still had to stand on tiptoe to get it on the right hook).

At least he was still capable of wearing safety goggles, he thought ruefully as he climbed up onto one of his chairs and pulled on a pair of now-absolutely-huge latex gloves.

Then he forgot about his predicament for a while, as he examined the flower.

********

“...so until we figure out what the flower did to us, looks like we’re kinda stuck like this,” Dipper concluded.

Soos nodded thoughtfully.  “Dude.  This is intense.”  Then his eyes widened.  “Wait, if you guys got stuck like this, would that mean that you little dudes-” he glanced at Dipper and Mabel, and then corrected himself- “little old-old but used to be little-dudes would die sooner, cuz you’re like super old now?”

“Hey!” Stan protested.  “We’re not that old!”

“You said you were pushing seventy!” Mabel squeaked, eyes going wide with panic.

Dipper already looked like he was about to start hyperventilating again.

“...I was lying!  I faked it on my driver’s license so I could get lots of senior citizen discounts and stuff!  We’re only, like, fifty-seven!  Almost fifty-eight!”  Stan quickly scurried around until he was between his elderly niblings, and put his arms as far around them as he could reach.  “And either way, there’s no way we’re gonna let you guys get stuck like this, okay?  We’re gonna figure this out, and get you back to normal, and you won’t haveta be stuck in gross old bodies for a long, looong time.”

“Hey!”  Dipper swatted the back of his head; Stan grinned at him shamelessly.

“I’m just tellin’ it like it is, gramps.”

“Being turned into a kid again is making you even more of a twerp than usual,” Dipper scolded, though while wearing a smile as he gave him a playful jab in the ribs, and Mabel dove in from his other side to vigorously noogie him.

********

It was another hour before Ford emerged into the light.  His eyebrows were pinched together, and he was chewing his lip as he stepped into the kitchen-none of those was a good sign.

“What’s the word, Sixer?” Stan asked; he was standing on a chair and making Stancakes, under the belief that having breakfast for lunch would, if nothing else, make everyone feel just a little bit better.

Ford grimaced.  “Well, the good news is that my analysis indicates the pollen is not toxic, and doesn’t seem to be inherently harmful.  The bad news is, I’m having trouble figuring out what they’re made of or what kind of magic is in them that caused us to turn into...this.”  He gestured between the four of them.  “It would be much easier if we could collect a live specimen of the plant-we’ll have to go back to the forest and see if we can find one.”

“Good idea!” Mabel chirped, pulling a pitcher of sparkling pink liquid out of the fridge.

Stan brought the skillet over to the table, and gave his brother an encouraging look.  “C’mon, Sixer!  You’ll think better when you get somethin’ in your gut!”

Ford sighed, and sat down at the table with far less resistance than he usually would have.  “What’s on the menu?”

“Stancakes-”

“And Mabel Juice!”

“Pass on the Mabel Juice,” Dipper muttered, filling his cup with water from the sink.

Mabel scoffed at him.  “Come on, Dipper, you’ve never even tried it!”  She filled her own cup with a generous amount.

“I don’t need to try it to know that it would probably send me into premature cardiac arrest.  Especially now that I’m old.”

Mabel stuck out her tongue at him, and then lifted it to her lips and began gulping it down.

And a few seconds later she spat it out, gagging.

“Ugh!  What’s wrong with this stuff?!”  She grabbed up the pitcher and stared at it, making the plastic dinosaurs turn and spin around in their liquid prison.

Dipper went to her side in concern.  “Are you okay?!”

“Yeah, I just-I don’t understand!  I just made this stuff this morning, it should be fine!  But it tastes all wrong, almost like it’s-”  Mabel froze, and her eyes went wide with the sort of horror that only comes from the realization of impending doom.  “...Too sweet.”

Stan snorted after a second.  “Now ya know how I feel about that stuff.”

Mabel shook her head a tiny bit.  “No, I-I love Mabel Juice!  I can’t not like it anymore, just cuz I’m old!”

Ford leaned over and patted her hand.  “It’s a very normal thing for tastes to change as you age.”

Mabel’s eyes had become very big and shiny, and her lip trembled; Ford realized that maybe the wasn’t the best train of thought to go down.  “...Don’t worry, we’ll figure out how to change you back so you can drink all the Mabel Juice you want.”

She managed a tiny smile.

“Wait a second…”

Stan abruptly grabbed the pitcher, and poured some of the juice into his erstwhile coffee mug.  “If it’s too sweet for you now that you’re old, maybe I can actually like this stuff now!”  He looked at Ford with wiggling eyebrows.  “You wanna try some?”

Ford grimaced.  “No thank you.”

Stan shrugged.  “Eh, just as well.  You probably couldn’t handle it.”

Ford’s eyes narrowed, and he shoved his cup over towards Stan.  “Fill it up, Stanley.”

He knew, and he knew that Stan knew, that he’d walked right into that one, but he didn’t flinch away as it was filled almost to the brim.

“Um, guys?” Dipper said, for the second time that day.  “Maybe this is a bad idea-”

They each took a drink.

********

Five minutes later

“I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO HANDLE THIS MUCH SUGAR SINCE I WAS IN MY TWENTIES!!!!” Stan hollered, tearing across the back yard so fast he was almost a blur.

“THIS STUFF WOULD’VE BEEN GREAT FOR HELPING ME GET THROUGH COLLEGE!  I COULD’VE STAYED UP AND STUDIED EXTRA HARD FOR ALLLLL MY EXAMS!” Ford yelled back, just before trying and failing to turn a cartwheel.  He landed clumsily on his rear, and the two boys nearly fell over laughing at each other.

“I feel like I could run a mile!  Or climb a mountain!  Or run up a mountain!  Has the world always been this colorful?  Am I talking too loud?”

“I don’t know!  I’m really not the best person to ask right now, because I’m under the influence just as much as you are!”

“Not so under it you can’t remember all your nerd vocab, though!”  Stan cackled, and then tilted his head thoughtfully.  “Huh...I shoulda said nerd words, so it’d rhyme.  Okay, do over!  You can still remember all your nerd words!”

From the porch, Dipper shook his head in mute horror.  Mabel, at least, had recovered from her despondency over her new aversion to Mabel Juice enough to record a video of her hyperactive mini-grunkles-who, it appeared, were now wrestling each other in the grass, laughing wildly.

“...We should really focus on going back to the trail and trying to find that flower,” Dipper pointed out.

“Yeah, well, tell that to them.”  Mabel pointed to the boys.  Neither of them seemed to be in any condition to focus on something important like finding an enchanted flower.

Dipper’s shoulders sagged.  “We’re not gonna get this fixed today.”

“That’s not the worst thing in the world, though, is it?”  Mabel smiled.  “It’s been years since they’ve been able to have this much fun together; we should give them a chance to enjoy it.”

“But what if there’s some kind of dangerous side-effects to our being stuck in these bodies for so long?  I don’t wanna be stuck like this all summer!”

“Grunkle Ford said he didn’t think the pollen stuff was dangerous!  Just relax, bro-bro!”  Mabel slung her arm around his shoulders and squeezed.  “They deserve a chance to be kids again, just for a little while!”

Dipper still had misgivings...but he had to admit that seeing Stan and Ford chasing each other around and throwing grass at each other was pretty cute to watch.

Even so, he hoped things could go back to normal (or what passed as normal for the Pines family) soon.

********

I’m in my late twenties, and I don’t think I could handle Mabel Juice.  As much as I like sugary food, there’s a history of diabetes in my family, and that stuff sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

[emperorsfoot]

This chapter is short and a mess. It doesn’t flow right. I’m pretty sure there are like, million logical errors, and the transitions between the flashback and present don’t feel organic. 

But I updated! 

And that’s what’s really important, right?

...

A holo-screen, no larger than a standard issue datapad was projected from the armrest of Red Hord’s throne. It should have displayed readouts of the rift. Projecting energy readings from the special anomaly, radiation levels, temperatures, gravitational forces if it had any. Instead, the display was taken up entirely by the face of Hordwing.

“Maintain communications as you pass through.” He was saying.

Red Hord only rested his chin on his fist and allowed his fellow cabinet Lord to voice his concerns as if they were advice from a senior colleague. They couldn’t show it, not in front of brothers of lower rank, but Hordwing was worried about him. Hordwing didn’t want him to go to a shadow dimension they knew next to nothing about that had already trapped one of their brothers since his disappearance.

But, their Emperor, no, their Brother, had ordered Red Hord to go, so he must go.

That did not mean that Hordwing had to be happy about it.

“And be sure to send a signal through the rift every six hours so that the rest of the fleet can monitor your progress.”

“Out of curiosity, if the rift snapped shut behind me and I was trapped in there with Hordak, what could you do?” Red asked him. Equal parts annoyed by the other man’s hovering, and genuinely wanting to know what Wing thought he could do.

Hordwing only frowned at him.

Red Hord smirked back. He liked pointing out to the older man when he was being absurd. It made for a fun dynamic to their relationship.

“Just keep the com open for me.” He growled. Then, in a softer tone, so that only Red Hord could hear, he repeated. “For me, Red.”

With a sigh, Red Hord did leave the com channel open. He leaned back in his throne. “Helm, take us through the rift. We might all go to join the Host, let’s not arrive there an embarrassment.”

“When we go to the Host we’ll go together, Red.” Wing reminded him. “You’re not allowed to die without me.”

“You’re not allowed to choose when I die, Wing.” Red hissed back, keeping his voice down so that none of his own crew could hear him. “Only our Brother may choose when we die.”

Every single screen on the bridge –discounting the one Lord Hordwing was on- displayed the rift. From all different angles. Allowing for wide shots of its complete length and width, with measurements on its size, to close up images where one could see the small details of the fabric of space torn and tattered like actual fabric. Threads and strands of reality irradiated and glowing, drifting on the fluctuations of power that held the rift open.

As the Leather Vest drew closer, the readouts changed to data on their ship. Course heading, hull integrity, radiation shielding. Several alerts climbed into the yellow as they drew nearer. When the nose of the ship passed through, everything went to read. Temperature rising, hull plates heating, radiation shielding weakening. A few of Red’s bridge crew looked back at their Lord, silently asking for permission to turn back.

But, Prime ordered them into the breach. So, into the breach they would go. Come high water or the All High Host.

“Continue on heading.” He commanded.

“What is it?” Demanded Hordwing over the com. He could hear the alerts over the channel, but was not at an angle where he could see anything on the bridge. “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing I imagine isn’t perfectly normal for passing between dimensions.” Red Hord growled. It was kinda nice that Hordwing wanted to maintain radio contact and make sure Red was okay. But did he really have to be so annoying about it? Red Hord wasn’t a hatchling fresh out of the tank! He was a Lord, promoted by Horde Prime himself same as Hordwing. He didn’t need one of his older brothers looking out for him.

The ship gave a shudder as it passed all the way through the rift.

Hordwing’s image on the com screen went fuzzy for a moment. His voice breaking up. “You alri- -Red? –Respond- -what- -appened, Red Hor-?”

The bridge crew scrambled to assess any possible damages. Hull integrity, atmosphere leakage, nitrogen levels. Anything that could indicate fatal damage to the ship. Everything came back just within acceptable limits. A little high. Definitely undress stress and definitely close to the border between ‘Acceptable’ and ‘Danger’. But still just the right side of acceptable. Whatever Prime did with his magic sword to open the rift and ground it so that it stayed open, he also grounded it to make it safe for his forces to pass through.

Red tried adjusting the frequency of his com to try and get a clearer channel out to Hordwing. “All systems normal.” He informed the other man tersely. “I shall message the Emperor with an update within the next six hours.”

“And me, too, Red.” Wing added, voice a low whisper again. “You’ll message me too, right?”

“As the situation allows.” He nodded to the other Lord. Then switched off the com. Then to his helmsman, “We’re through. Put us in a stationary orbit over the planet, then do a scan for 66694-42-003’s signal.”

Damn Zero-Zero-Three. The idiot couldn’t just fuck-off happily to the middle of nowhere. No. He just had to rip open a pimple in time and space to wave at Horde Prime. ‘Hello, Brother! I live! Come find me!’ Damn idiot.

And Hordwing’s –for lack of a better descriptor- clingy behavior was due in part to Zero-Zero-Three.

Red Hord and Hordwing always had an interesting dynamic from the first moment Red was named and promoted to the cabinet. They were very close in age, only one batch apart, but from different crèches. Wing rose through the ranks of the First Division and Red through the Second, so they never actually met face to face until his promotion. They worked together well, easily. Red Hord did not have so easy a time whenever he had to work collaboratively with Hordren or even Hode –and Hode was, in part, the reason he was promoted in the first place!

Then Hode turned traitor.

Wing and Red were there aboard the Velvet Glove when Hode and his Gar partner tried to steal the Sword. Wing was one of the ones that held him down when Prime chopped off his head. Wing was one of the few that got to hear the last thing Hode said to Prime before he died. A statement that shook Wing to his core.

Wing didn’t get the opportunity to process, however, because almost immediately, Hode was replaced by Zero-Zero-Three, whom was named Hordak.

Hordak was also close in age to Red Hord –three batches apart- they did not develop the same kind of easy working relationship that Red enjoyed with Wing. But they did work well together. They might have worked better together if Hordak knew more about Hode. Red so desperately wanted to tell him more about Hode. To confide what he knew to another brother.

Red couldn’t talk to Hordwing, he used to be a wing pilot before he was promoted and pilots had no filter. They talked too much and didn’t know what not to say. Red Hord could not talk to Hordwing. Hordak had been Hode’s favorite. He would have liked to talk to Hordak, but Hode never clued the younger clone into what he was doing. Hode intentionally kept Hordak ignorant. In hindsight, that ignorance was probably what, not only saved Hordak from being executed along with the rest of Hode’s Force Captains, but also allowed him to be promoted to the cabinet.

But then Hordak fainted in a strategy meeting and was immediately stripped of his rank and banished to the front lines.

Red remembered Wing suddenly grabbing his hand and squeezing harder than was necessary when they watched Prime wrap his hand around Hordak’s neck and lift their little brother gasping and wheezing from the floor.

Wing held down one brother while Prime cut his head off, then watched a second brother be lifted in a choke-hold before being cast out. Maybe Wing was the brother he should really tell about Hode. But Wing was also an idiot. A different kind of idiot from Hordak, but still an idiot was an idiot.

After Hordak’s –Zero-Zero-Three’s- banishment, that was when Wing started with the whole, ‘when we go to join the All High Host, we go together’ bullshit. He watched Prime banish one cabinet Lord, a brother of equal rank to his own, for having issues that were the fault of the cloning facility and not the brother’s himself. And he watched Prime kill another brother, also a cabinet Lord, but one with seniority, who has served Prime for years!

Somehow, he got it into his head that either he or Red Hord were going to be next. That the first time either one of them failed, Prime was going to kill them on the spot. Wing did not want to be apart from Red, he had grown very attached to his brother. So, if they were to go to the Host, he wanted them to go together. At the same time.

Red almost rolled his eyes at the thought. Wing didn’t get it. If a brother was executed by Horde Prime, they did not go to join the Host. Traitors and weaklings were unfit to fill the ranks of the Host. Traitors and weaklings did not get an afterlife.

After Hode was unceremoniously executed, Red abandoned him. Abandoned his ideas and his Plan. Moved on. Took everything he knew –really knew- about the older brother and locked in a box. Away, deep in the back of his mind where he didn’t have to think about it. His loyalty returning to where it belonged, to where it always should have been. To Prime. His Brother. Brother to all.

It was stupid anyway. Hode turned out to be an idiot. Only an idiot could think to supplant the Emperor of the Known Universe. That was what happened when you let an alien fuck you in the cloaca. It fucked up your brain too. If Hode hadn’t crawled into bed with that Gar from Eternia none of this would have happened. Zero-Zero-Three never would have ascended to the cabinet, and by extension never been banished, and Red Hord wouldn’t be commanding his ship through a terrifying rift in the very fabric of space to a shadow dimension to collect the idiot for Prime.

Sometimes, Red did wonder how things would be different if Hode had succeeded. What kind of Horde Prime would Lord Hode have been?

…

Four-Zero-Eight looked at the droplets of dark purple blood. Hearing the drip louder than it actually was. Hearing a pounding in his ears. His arms shook with just the effort of holding himself up and his vision swam. For half a moment, his mind failed to register what his Lord was saying.

“You stupid, worthless, incompetent, failure!” Lord Horrin was snarling, saliva spraying from his mouth as he spoke. He was so angry.

He kicked Four-Zero-Eight in the side and the younger clone went tumbling across the hanger floor. What were they doing in the hangar again? Was this even the hangar of the Wool Cardigan? Oh. Right. They were abourd the Vinyl Hood. Lord Hode had to save Horrin’s strike force from a mission gone bad.

“The rebels took Nordor because of you!” Looking around the hanger, Lord Horrin lifted a crowbar that had been left out next to a batwing in mid-repair.

Vision swimming, Four-Zero-Eight barely register his Lord raising the crowbar over his head. He closed his eyes, preemptively wincing at the pain he knew was coming.

But the blow didn’t come.

“That’s enough!”

Four-Zero-Eight opened his eyes, vision still blurred. It took his brain longer than he felt it should have to understand what he was seeing. At first, he thought he must have been saved by a shadow. A figure of darkness grabbing Horrin’s wrist, holding back the blow. But that was insane. Shadows didn’t move like figures. Staring at them, breathing hard, Four-Zero-Eight blinked his nictitating eyelids until his vision cleared enough for the scene to make sense.

It wasn’t a shadow. It was a cape. Long, and black, and hooded. The hood drawn low over the head so that the face was all in shadow. The only thing visible, the crimson glow of his eyes. Lord Hode. Lord of the Third Division, and commander of the Vinyl Hood, the ship they were currently on. Lord Hode stayed Horrin’s hand.

“This is not how you educate a Force Captain that has failed you.” Hode said, voice issuing from the shadows of the hood, sounding as deep and dark as the shadows themselves. Hode had the same voice they all had, Horde Prime’s voice, but –somehow- Hode knew how to manipulate his tone and pitch so make himself sound so different when he wanted to. Hode looked down at Four-Zero-Eight, noting just how severe his injuries were. “This is not how you execute one for failure either.”

Horrin pulled his arm out of the other Lord’s hold. “You do not get to dictate to me how I deal with my own Force Captains, you Old Ghoul!”

“But I do get to dictate what goes on, on my own ship.” Hode replied calmly. “And I dictate that brothers are not to be bludgeoned with crude tools on my hangar floor.” It looked like Horrin was about to respond, but Hode cut him off before he could. “If your Force Captain failed to take the rebel stronghold of Nordor, perhaps it is because you –his superior- did not adequately prepare him for the mission.”

“How dare you-!” Horrin turned to fully face the other Lord.

“How dare you!” Hode snapped back, raising his voice only to match Horrin’s. “You fail in the mission our Brother chose to honor you with. You needed me to save you. Then you come into my ship and get blood all over my hangar blaming a subordinate for your own failure as a commander!” Hode snapped his fingers. “Lord Horrin is tired from his ordeal, Zero-Zero-Three, show him to an officer’s stateroom so he may rest.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Four-Zero-Eight blinked blurry eyes as a still pillar wearing a dress and a Force Captain’s badge stepped forward to politely escort Lord Horrin out of the hangar.

Hode bent down in front of him, the only thing in focus.

Taloned fingers gently brushed hair out of his face, examining his wounds. “He really did a number on you, little brother.”

Four-Zero-Eight had to spit blood out of his mouth before he could speak. “I am grateful to my Lord Horrin for taking the time to teach me this lesson.”

The words sounded robotic and insincere, even to his own ears. But working in the Second Division under Lord Horrin had thought him what to say and when to say it. Even when he was half delirious. He knew how to get by. He knew how to survive. It was how he was able to rise to become a Force Captain in the first place. Not because he was the best, most skilled, or most competent. It was because he knew how to play their game.

Those glowing red eyes blinked at him from under the darkness of the hood. His response impressing Lord Hode somehow. “My, my, Four-Zero-Eight, you just might be wasted under a Lord like him.”

…

“Lord Red Hord,” a bridge officer pulled him from his reminiscing, “orbit is stable and we have located a signal consistent with 66694-42-003’s. Your orders, sir?”

Red stood from his throne. “Our Emperor wasn’t his little brother returned to him. Let’s go pick him up.”

[chiseler]

An Interview With Screenwriter Louisa Rose

In 1973, Brian De Palma released Sisters, his Siamese twin mystery thriller starring Margot Kidder and Charles Durning. After a string of social satires which, to be honest, haven’t aged very well, Sisters was De Palma’s breakthrough film, the one that would cement the form and style for which he’d come to be known. A year later he released the horror/comedy/glam rock opera Phantom of the Paradise starring the great Paul Williams. Hitting theaters more than a year before Rocky Horror, Phantom combined elements from Faust, Phantom of the Opera and about a dozen other sources into a bright, fast, wicked comic book satire of the music business. The film went on to become a cult favorite.

Both films were written by screenwriter Louisa Rose, though she is rarely credited for her work on Phantom. After some reputed and proverbial creative differences, De Palma removed her name from the film and rewrote the script, taking sole screenwriting credit. Although Rose disagrees with me, I think it can be argued it was her work on these two scripts, particularly Sisters, that drew attention to De Palma as a director.

After spending the first 20 years of her adult life in New York City, she and her husband relocated first to Spokane and then to Seattle about a decade back. Not long ago, I spoke with her via phone about her career as a playwright and Hollywood screenwriter.

Jim Knipfel: How did you get started in screenwriting?

Louisa Rose: {Laughs} By accident. I was one of those kids who wrote poetry in high school. I went to college thinking I wanted to be an actress. Theater was my primary interest. I found that I really enjoyed the rehearsal process, but really did not enjoy acting for an audience. That was not a recommendation for a career on stage, so part of my theater concentration (we called our majors “concentrations” at Sarah Lawrence) was writing for the theater. And that’s what I really loved. Brian De Palma was at Columbia, and though they had extra-curricular student theater, they did not have the intensive program as part of the curriculum that SLC did, and does.

At any rate, Brian and another Columbia student came to Sarah Lawrence to do theater and some film projects, because the head of the theater department, Wilford Leach, was interested in film as well. He was a mentor for Brian. The first film project, I believe, was a short piece called The Wedding Party. I don’t know if you’ve heard of that.

JK: Oh, yes, I’ve seen it.

LR: After that Brian made Murder a la Mod and Dionysus, I think it was.

JK: You mean Dionysus in ’69?

LR:  Yes, Dionysus in ’69 started out as a theater piece. Scared the shit out of me when I went to see it. It was created by an interesting experimental director, Richard Schechner, as a mass quasi-orgy experience. The venue, The Performing Garage, had stadium seating, actually more like large long shelves almost to the ceiling – and you had to climb ladders to reach them. Then the actors would climb up and invite you to “join the dance.” And I saw one coming toward me… “No, I am not joining the dance. I am an observer” {laughs}.      

Brian did his Masters at Sarah Lawrence, and one of his projects was to direct my senior play. That’s how I got to know him. I then went on to get my MFA in theater. So he knew me and he was looking for someone to write a script for Sisters. He felt his idea for the film would be marketable, but he needed a script. It sounded like fun, and actually became my Master’s thesis.

JK: Really?

LR: Yeah, so that’s how I got to work on Sisters.

JK: So he came to you with the story?

LR: He had kind of an outline. He had this idea that it would be twins, one evil and one good sister…You know, it’s just so long ago it’s hard for me to remember. There were certain points, certain visual things he wanted. We worked together on the story, and then I wrote the script.  

As for Phantom of the Fillmore …

JK: Um, you mean Phantom of the Paradise?

LR: That’s it, Phantom of the Fillmore. It became Paradise.

{Note: After catching wind of the film’s original title, the owners of The Fillmore filed a lawsuit, forcing the change. Another lawsuit, this one filed by Led Zeppelin, forced the name of the films central record company, Swan Song, be changed to Death Records.}

LR: I took time off from working in NYC to go to LA and write scripts for Sisters and Phantom. At that point, I was a single mother, and my daughter Alissa was two and a half. I brought her with me and had her in day care.  I had a contract for a total of $80,000 for the two scripts.  But when it came to getting paid, Brian delayed and delayed, told me it was not a good time and that I needed to wait.   As usual, actors, director, camera persons, etc. were paid. I needed the money, had to sue to be paid, and only received a quarter of the contract money.  Brian had been a friend, and it felt like a betrayal.  

But back to the movie, what is your take on Sisters? What are the things you notice about it?

JK: I went back just a couple days ago and watched it again. Just in terms of De Palma’s career, it was a big turning point for him. Discounting Murder A La Mod, he’d been doing all those goofy satires like Greetings and Hi Mom! And Get to Know your Rabbit. Sisters was the first of his thrillers and the first of his Hitchcock homages, the things he’d come to be known for.

LR: Right.

JK: Ignoring the Psycho model at play, one of the things that always struck me about Sisters was that in lesser hands the big Siamese twins reveal would have been saved until the last ten or fifteen pages of the script, but here we get it about forty minutes in. Even before that, they gave it away in the poster; they gave it away in the tagline. There was no secret the killer—or killers—were Siamese twins. But then of course there’s the later twist, which brings us back to Psycho.

LR: Mm-hmm.

JK: What really sticks with me, though, is the whole final sequence from Jennifer Salt’s hypnotism to that final shot of Charles Durning staring through the binoculars at the couch. It’s so good. I love that ending so much. Also, having come to know of her only later, I was amazed to see what a good actress Margot Kidder was.

LR: I thought she was very appealing and a really good choice for the part.

JK: In the end Sisters, more so than the thrillers that would follow—Dressed to Kill, Body Double, Blow Out—is the one I always go back to, because even the Hitchcock stuff is still fairly understated at that point. So I’m wondering, how much of that final script, what made it to the screen, was yours?

LR I think I have a copy of my original script here, if I could find it. It was much longer and needed to be cut. I really don’t know. It was a long time ago and I’d need to re-read it.  

There is a Blu-Ray copy of Sisters put out by Arrow that has interviews of some people who worked on the film.

I’ve got it somewhere.]

My husband keeps saying I should show it to our teenage grandchildren, but it might destroy their image of me as nice old grandma. On the other hand, some years ago, our two nephews watched it as young teenagers and looked at me with new respect—or was it fear?

Now, what is funny is that Sisters is kind of a cult film, and so is Phantom. About ten years ago, shortly after we moved to Seattle, I got a call from a young woman originally from Winnipeg.

JK: The one city where Phantom was a big hit when it came out.

LR: Yes, it was a cult film there, with a festival and now possibly a documentary about the festival. We had a visit, and she mailed me – I believe it was a production copy of the script for Sisters.

JK: So what was it like for you, a young woman writing films in the Seventies?

LR: There are things funny and not funny that happened…Nothing about the movie business appealed to me, based on my very limited experience. The people were kind of awful. I have memories of someone from the studio, a married accountant. He said, “Oh, I have to go to San Francisco to scout locations, and you could come with me.” The whole approach was making me nervous, and I said, “Well, I have a two-year-old daughter with me, so, uh, no I can’t do that.” And he said, “Well, we could bring your daughter and get baby-sitting for her, and then we could have a Really Good Time.” I thought, oh, just leave me alone—I’m not a gorgeous actress, I’m a writer.

JK: Not that long ago I interviewed an actress from the late Fifties who up and left the movie business for twenty years because she wouldn’t put up with that.

LR: Women were treated horribly in Hollywood as elsewhere. When I went to look for a job in New York after college, there were separate job listings for men and women. Men could apply for management-track jobs and women could be a “Gal Fri” or a “Secy.”  

I was very taken by a piece in Ms. Magazine about a woman who worked in a factory that made plutonium pellets and who became a whistle-blower. I thought it would make a good movie.

JK: You mean Karen Silkwood?

LR: That’s it. So I met a woman who worked at New Line Cinema, who got me an interview with a producer there. I came in and I was supposed to pitch my idea. It was almost like a parody of a scene in a Hollywood movie about a Hollywood movie. The guy is sitting there with his feet up on the desk and he has these three or four male cronies sitting around, and he’s cracking jokes and they’re all laughing heartily at his jokes. Eventually he said, “So you want to write a script,” and I said “Yeah.” I started telling him about it, and he kept interrupting me. He was horrified to learn that Karen Silkwood, a single mother, had left her children with their grandparents so she could take a well-paying job at the plant.  “No one would ever go to see a movie about a woman who leaves her children,” he announced.  Basically, the interview was over at that point.  He looked at me and asked if I knew how to type.  When I said yes, he said,

“Well, you could come and be a typist here.”

JK: My god.

LR: At that point, I said, “I think you’ve really got too much going on here to pay attention, so I think this isn’t working too well.” He sprang up from his desk and stalked off, bright red, furious. He came back and said, “I have never been so insulted in my life.” That was the end of that. {Laughs.}

{Note: For what it’s worth, Rose’s instincts were good. Director Mike Nichols’ take on the Silkwood story, starring Meryl Streep and written by Nora Ephron, was released in 1983.}

LR: Then, because I’d written a horror movie, I was offered other projects. One was to be a murder film involving Debbie Harry, the lead singer with Blondie, the rock group.  The only requirement as far as the potential director was concerned was that it needed to have seven or eight murders. The rest was up to me. I met Debbie Harry and talked to her to get a sense of what she could do. You just get a sense of what people can do. She had no acting background.

JK: Would this have been her first picture?

LR: It would have been, I think, but it was never made. At one point, she said “Well, I just want to play the part of a housewife in the movie.” And I thought she’d be more believable as the person she actually was.  So I made it about a rock group beset by a number of murders. I think it had seven murders. Then I came back for the next meeting. She’d read the script and said, “I can’t do this movie; it’s the story of my life.” And I thought, WHAT? {Laughs.}. I mean, WHAT? So that one didn’t happen.

JK: So that was, what, around 1980?

LR: I think so, late Seventies or early Eighties. Something like that.

JK: So that was after Monique was made?

LR; {pause} So you know about that.

JK: Yes.

LR: How did you find out about that?

JK: Well, it’s listed on your filmography online, and I’ve seen it.

LR: {Sighs heavily and laughs} It has very little to do with me. Believe me, I’ve seen it also. That’s the thing about screenwriting. Who knows? You sit at home and do your writing, but who knows what will emerge?

I was hired by a French would-be feature film director who had done film work for a famous French fashion house.   He wanted a story about a woman who becomes psychotic when she learns her husband is gay and proceeds to murder a bunch of gay men.

I don’t recognize the script part of it and wish I didn’t have a credit on it. It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever seen, and I think you can agree with me.

JK: I was going to hold my tongue.

LR: Well, don’t.

JK: It was pretty bad. But I will tell you, it is extremely hard to find nowadays.

LR: Good.

And then there was the time an agent called and said she had a project for me, and that I didn’t have to do my best writing; I could do my second best writing.

JK: That sounds promising.

LR: Well as a writer if someone called and said they had a project but that you’d only have to do your second-best writing, what would you say?

JK: I think I’d ask how much it paid.

LR: But what would be you’re “second-best writing”? It’s like we have it in categories. It’s like, do I want Double A grade eggs? Should they be certified, “humanely raised”? Or do you just want ordinary eggs? How do you apply that to writing? Sure. I can write bad scenes, but I don’t have a special price category for them.

There was another project that I thought was extremely funny. Somebody, God, I can’t even remember who it was anymore; a producer had bought the rights to The Sensuous Woman. Have you heard of that one?

JK: Oh, sure, yes. It was a huge bestseller back then.

LR: It was written by someone only identified as “J” at the time and was supposed to be an advice book. I think one of the funniest suggestions was supposedly made by a woman who found she could have an orgasm by leaning against the dryer when it was running—or maybe it was the washing machine during the final spin cycle.  {laughs}. My job was to take the book and think of some way to dramatize it and turn it into a movie.  The producer, it turned out, had a history of hiring writers and refusing to pay them by claiming that they had not given him a satisfactory script.  The previous writer had been a well-known playwright.

JK: So it was around that point you decided to walk away from films?

LR: I didn’t walk away in the sense that I said, “I’m not doing film-script writing anymore.”  But, I wanted to do theater, and I was also trying to bring up a daughter. The head of my college theater department, Wil Leach, had gone to work as artistic director at Joe Papp’s Shakespeare Festival.  Wil decided to do an all-black version of Mother Courage. It was to be set in America at the time of the Indian Wars. Post-Civil War. Everything was recast, and he didn’t use the Brecht score. He had a composer to do a new score, and he had a black lyricist, who said, “I’m not doing this, it doesn’t pay enough.” Will knew that I had done lyrics for a couple of theatre pieces I worked on in college. So he asked if I would like to do it. It was a really interesting project, taking the Brecht lyrics in German and finding an equivalent way to do them for this production. I don’t know German, so they gave me a German professor from Wesleyan, and we went over the lyrics word by word. We talked a lot about the connotations of the words. I had a Black English dictionary, and I had all kinds of materials. I just loved doing that.

JK: Now when was this, roughly?

LR: In 1980. Before that I also did a couple of plays at La MaMa, one of which went to Off Broadway. It seems when I look back at the things I’ve done, so many of them involve really painful experiences. I think I’m not well suited to keeping my eye on the ball. I keep getting sidetracked, thinking I don’t want to lose friends, don’t want to make anybody miserable and don’t want anyone to make me miserable. Some people have been able to somehow find a home, a theatrical home. I did not.  My last production was in Seattle.  

JK: What was the play?

LR: It was a play about Catherine the Great. I wanted to write a reflective two-character play based on Catherine’s own writing about her life before she became an Empress. She was a teenager when she went to Russia to marry the heir to the throne, an alcoholic teenage boy from Sweden. Somehow it morphed into a much bigger deal, a costume extravaganza.  I had a wonderful director, Elizabeth Huddle, who was Intiman’s Artistic Director.  But, I had horrible reviews in the Seattle papers, and so that was when I gave up.  

I’ve written three non-fiction books with my husband, who is a physician.

JK: What were they?

LR: The first one was for consumers about how to use healthcare, how to talk to doctors, what to do when a hospital admission was necessary. The second book was called The Too-Precious Child, and it was about parents who become so involved with their own wishes and fears about their child that they are unable to experience his or her needs. They might be very loving or not but they are unable to take the child’s actual self into account. The book was published in 1989, and the problem we discussed seems to have gotten massively worse.

We wrote the third book for Consumer Reports to help people understand the basic types of health insurance, how to choose the best plan for one’s circumstance, and how to get the most out of its coverage. My husband was CEO of a health plan and understood the issues, but I could identify with consumers who were trying to figure out how things worked. It took me two weeks and tears of frustration to understand how a family benefit works. Insurance terminology was painful, but I figured if I could be made to understand it, I could explain it to people. Maybe I could turn that into a movie {laughs}. I’ll go pitch that one.  

by Jim Knipfel

[tvproductionwestminster-blog]

Creating Made to Cheer by Daisy Burton

We have finally uploaded and shared our finished version of Made to Cheer and the team could not be more proud. We have experienced some trials and tribulations on the road to creating this finished piece but it was all worth it! Here is our story...

We started in October and we already knew that the process was going to drawn out since we had to visit our cheer team every week! This means setting aside each Friday up until December for travelling to Thatcham with all that equipment! This wasn’t an easy trip either; it usually had to be via train and then plus a 15 minute walk with the kit. We got to travel by car some days though and we made a fun behind the scenes Vlog for our YouTube channel that was a Day in the Life style video. This was a great way to get people engaged and to get to know the crew so they feel more a part of who we are as Made to Cheer.

Winter Wonderland was the end of season Competition which the Crimson Heat Tigers Senior level 5 team were building towards. This competition was the weekend before our final deadline in December but we took the risk because we all agreed, a competition really rounds off this Documentary.

So we filmed and got ready up until the Winter Wonderland competition which we all were buzzing for! There was a forecast for snow that Sunday however, being skeptical, we believed that it would only be a couple of flakes or sleet. It was an early start for us as we had to make it all the way to Malden, Essex in time. We booked a taxi service earlier in the week and so it arrived promptly. As we travelled, we saw a couple of snowflakes which was exciting but it didn’t seem to be settling. We arrived at the hotel where the competition was being held and the driver of the taxi joked about not being able to pick us up if it kept snowing but we knew it wouldn’t get that bad and since we had prepaid we were feeling pretty confident. Everything was going smoothly, we set up, cameras and sound working fine, and the competition leaders at Future Cheer UK were so welcoming to us. We started filming some cut aways of the room until someone opened a fire exit door and that's when we saw it... SNOW!

Naturally we felt like little kids and our curiosity drew us to it, but then we got a message that changed the rest of the day! Crimson Heat’s coach couldn’t make it through the snow and the roads were too dangerous! They were heading back home.

We honestly were in shock at first, but then we each took it in turns to cry to each other. We collected ourselves and handled the situation with care. We called our tutor who was most sympathetic and said we can have an extension. This was a relief! We could wait until the next competition to film and complete our Documentary. Now it’s great that our Documentary was going to be okay but what about us?? Remember when our taxi driver joked about not picking us up, well that then became our next obstacle! Freezing cold and now stranded we all desperately called every Essex taxi services we could find! Luckily we found one that was understanding to our situation and gave us a discount but we had to wait a few more hours until then. Before the new taxi arrived we took some fun snow pictures in an attempt to make light of the situation. We then piled into the taxi and tried to keep warm as the car made its way like a snail back to London. We witnessed 3 snow related accidents and I can safely say that none of the crew relaxed until our feet were safely back in our own homes!

After Christmas, we all had recovered from that day and we met again to book our next Cheerleading competition trip! This was to the Heart of England Future Cheer UK Competition which was being held in Birmingham. This was without a doubt the best filming day we had! Well deserved after our last day! 2 crew members made their way up the night before to stay near Crimson Heat Tigers so that they could travel up with them via coach just in case something we couldn’t control happened again. The 3 remaining travelled the next morning to join. The train and coach journey was smooth and once we reunited we got busy filming and scoping the venue out. The arena was a lot bigger than before so we started practising immediately. We used Crimsons other teams to work out how we would film so would be perfect by the time our senior level 5 team performed their routine. After they performed we all felt tense but extremely proud. We have watched these girls practise for so long it was emotional to know that this would be the last time we would film them perform.   After the results were announced, although we were still filming we managed to squeeze in a group hug to celebrate our hard work as well as the girls. We travelled home happy.

The week following was full of editing and watching back our footage as every documentary must do. Lots of refining and making sure we showed the best of the best. As of Tuesday 27th February our Documentary is now public on our YouTube page (Made to Cheer) and free for all to see. In its first day of being public it reached over 1k views. After sharing on Facebook and Instagram it is amazing how much love and support we have received today and throughout the project. We know that this 15 minute Documentary will change the way you look at cheerleading and we hope you enjoy watching it as much as we do!

On behalf of us at Made to Cheer, Thank you!

[blacknerdproblems]

We love our fandoms. For those on the outside looking in, it may be their impulse to discount our devotion as superficial or childish. That’s because they don’t understand or see how nerdom has effected us. At BNP, we know that comics and movies and anime and cosplay does so much more than entertain us, it shapes us; we learn what kind of people we want to be—and who exactly we are fighting against becoming. We sent out that bat signal, we sent out notice for an open call for submissions on what nerd lessons you learned and y’all answered the call.

The Author of This Piece and Teacher for This Nerd Lesson : Drew Fletcher

My name is Drew Fletcher and I am a geek, nerd, blerd, bleek (copyright if sounding cool) or whatever sounds good with bl attached to it. Without knowing it, I’m sure my geekdom like others started with Toonami. Toonami was the gate way drug that people don’t realize they were taking. There was no better beginning to my geekdom: Tenchi Muyo, Gundam Wing, Dragonball Z, Salior Moon, Outlaw Star, the list keeps going. Anime has been there for me as long as I could remember. So many lessons and so many fillers. Before going into my awesome morals that I certainly have, I must address the yang part of my geekdom: video games. That started with the slim Red Gameboy. I went from playing Tetris in black and white by myself to now playing Overwatch with trolls. The lessons I learned from my hobbies/ passions are simple but solid.

One lesson I learned is that heroes are made not born (most times). I mean look at my favorite heroes, Mario and Sonic. Mario is a plumber my friends, snaking one pipe at a time. A hero is born when his main squeeze Peach is taken. When it comes to Sonic, all he wants to do is run and eat. That’s it, but a cranky old man keeps wanting to conquer the world. Then somehow with all that going on they do the Olympics. True heroes, to me at least, but what about us normal folk? It’s as simple as being there for your friends when they are sad or turning Super Saiyan when they get blown up.

Unlike my last example being a hero doesn’t need to be grand. I remember I went to an old person’s home in high school for community service. They had a party for the senior citizens and I was asked to dance. I danced literally in circles with this lady for about what seemed like forever. But I looked at her and she just seemed so happy. When I saw her smile, it made the whole trip worth it. My years of two stepping in a circle finally had meaning.

Another lesson I learned from one sage known as Miyamoto is to try, try, try again.

Another lesson I learned from one sage known as Miyamoto is to try, try, try again. The whole Mario series is based upon this and the inability to pay for castle security insurance. Mario jumps through different worlds constantly saving Peach and all for what….a cheek kiss?! That aside gamers, no matter how many times they get fire balled or run into Grombas keep trying. The will to keep going even after failing is powerful. Life has no reset and not many second chances. I have experienced loss, defeat and powerlessness. Whether I contribute the will to continue to my family, friends or my secret Super Mushroom I nibble on from time to time, I keep going.

Read on here. [x]

[akatsukinoawesome]

An Affordable Winter Festivus For All (An AnY X-Mas Fic)

Dearest @uta-chan-meganekko I am SO SORRY that your gift is late, but as they say, MERRY BELATED CHRISTMAS AND SORRY SORRY SORRY (ok, so that might not be an actual saying, but I am still really sorry). 

The prompts you gave me were: 

Hak x Yona Zeno x Kaya Any and all HHB brotps (including Yoon and Hak) Kija x Jae-Ha is fine too! Just Yona and the HHB Shenanigans Angst/Fluff/Humor everything goes I don't mind nsfw, but it isn't something I particularly request for, here

I tried to combine a bit of everything and ended up with a group fic with general interaction between everyone and a healthy dose of Hak x Yona. I hope you enjoy (again, sorry, sorry, sorry and I sincerely hope you enjoy!) 

Very Bestest Wishes for the New Year! 

CharlieChaplin2 (of Akatsukinoawesome)

Title: An Affordable Winter Festivus For All (or an AnY Christmas Fic).

Characters: Yona, Hak, Yun, Kija, Jae Ha, Shin Ah, Squirrel Ao, Zeno.

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Author’s Notes: Written for the @akayonagiftexchange (thank you for organising this and having patience with me!). Manga compliant. Full of fluff. This is the fluffiest of fluff to have ever fluffed. Enjoy! 

“Do you think it'll have a lot of bugs in there?”

The trepidation in Kija’s voice was clear even though his stomach growled loudly enough to nearly drown out his question. Jae Ha grinned but otherwise ignored the noise, saving the Hakuryuu from further embarrassment. To be fair, they were all ravenous after their long day spent climbing up the steepest part of the mountain path, but fortunately their efforts had paid off: just like Yun’s excellent map reading skills had promised, they were about to arrive at a cozy (but suitably large) cave which would do nicely as a shelter for the night.

“Would you rather sleep outside in this freezing cold, White Snake?”

Despite knowing he was being teased it was obvious that Kija was actually considering it as an option. “Once we get a fire going there won't be any need to worry, it’ll chase any bugs away,” Jae Ha offered by way of reassurance.

Hak was having too much fun, however, to let it go. “No it won't,” he said, “creepy crawlers are attracted to heat and light. If anything, more will come towards us.You don't need to worry, though, I'll be happy to protect you through the night in exchange for your portion of dinner.”

“Stop frightening him, Hak.” In spite of her attempt to hide it, Jae Ha could hear the exasperation in Yona’s voice - a sure sign she was also very tired and hungry. He guessed it was that, more than what she actually said which made Hak stop his teasing. “Kija, if you sleep outside you'll catch a cold,” she said as she pulled her cloak closer, “besides, since they'll be so many of us moving around we'll be the ones frightening the bugs, they'll go into hiding and won't bother us. You’ll be perfectly safe in the cave, I promise.”

“Thank you, Princess.” Kija turned to the Thunder Beast and gave him a look of smug triumph. “And while I thank you for the offer, Hak,” he said sarcastically, “I can protect myself just fine. You keep away from my food.”

Hak shrugged. “I was only offering my services, and at a discounted rate for a friend, too.”

“None of you will get dinner if you don't hurry up!” Yun called out from a little further up the mountain road, the Seiryuu and Ouryuu standing on either side of him. “Shin Ah says we’re almost there but it's getting dark quickly.”

Jae Ha’s own stomach rumbled in protest at the thought of going the night without food. “Best we pick up the pace,” he suggested to the other three, “before we upset mother too much.”

“I heard that!”

“He's got ears as keen as a falcon’s eyes, that one,” he grumbled. Yona chuckled lightly, her mood lifted since they were so close to their destination. He couldn't help feeling pleased at having made her smile and it nearly made him roll his eyes at himself. I'm almost as bad as Hak, he thought, go away, dragon blood, leave my poor heart in peace. As per usual, though, it wasn't listening.

~*~

Immediately upon arrival at their new site, and despite the overall fatigue of the group, everyone fell into a well-practiced routine as they each did their part to make camp. As per usual Yun was the one preparing dinner and once the food had been made ready everyone formed an orderly queue… if by ‘formed an orderly queue’ Jae Ha actually meant that while Zeno and Kija bickered and fought between themselves to snag the first bowlful of stew from the pot, Yona had tried to sneak past them, only to be caught by Hak (which started an additional kerfuffle on a whole other level). In the end, whilst everyone was fighting over who was hungriest/oldest/had most seniority, it was Shin Ah who managed to get first dibs on the food… it’s always the quiet ones, Jae Ha thought to himself. Being the big brother and knowing that bickering over dinner was unattractive, he’d stayed out of it, surveying it all instead from his spot next to his sleeping mat. He might have been last to eat, but watching his pseudo-family interacting with each other with such normalcy and comfort was more than worth it.

The only thing that was out of place was the fact that Yun wasn’t telling them off as loudly as usual. Jae Ha might have been hungry, but an empty belly hadn’t dulled his senses. He made a note to ask Yun about it when they were alone but Yona beat him to the punch and spoke to him while everyone was still eating around the campfire.

“Yun, is everything alright? You seem a little… contemplative tonight.” Her voice echoed louder than she intended it to in the cave and drew the attention of the others.

Jae Ha’s sharp, violet eyes flicked over to the boy, curious to see if he would open up.

Yun stopped munching on the wild herbs he was eating and to Jae Ha’s surprise, he looked a little sheepish. “Well, the famous Kouka tradition of Winter Festivus is coming-”

“Ah, my favorite holiday!” Kija sighed, interrupting. “I’d almost forgotten it’s that time of year. Granny will be busy supervising the decorating of the village right about now. There’ll be presents for everyone, warms fires, plenty of feasting, fireworks and sweet drinks!”

Yona heartily agreed with him. “Winter Festivus was so much fun at the palace, we had the best food and games! Father would open up the palace doors for the whole kingdom and finding gifts for everyone was so much fun!” She laughed, revelling in her memories. “Mundok used to dress up as Mr Festivus and give all the children gifts. Do you remember, Hak?” Her eyes creased with nostalgia at the corners. “He used to chase after you when you tried to sneak a peek from his sack!”

Hak unconsciously rubbed at the back of his head, her infectious grin spreading easily to him. “Sometimes he actually caught me, too.”

“Ik-Soo used to pretend Mr Festivus came to leave me a gift in the night,” Yun piped up, that false irritability ever present whenever he spoke about the priest, “but I never fell for it. It was so obvious it was him,” he said, “but I would pretend not to know because it made him so happy.”

“You must miss him,” Yona said kindly, “and I'm sure he misses you, too.”

Yun waved it off. “Bah, since he's on his own he'll probably go visit the mountain shrine. Lots of people from the region travel there for Winter Festivus, they'll be plenty for him to do to in order to help set everything up for the influx of holiday tourists…” he said, deliberately dodging Yona’s point, “although he'll probably cause the other priests more harm than good,” he added in a low mumble.

“I'm sure he'll be fine. And between all the food preparation, decorating, music and fireworks, Ik-Soo will likely have a great Winter Festivus holiday,” Yona reassured him.

Shin Ah’s face lit up under the mask as he listened, imagining all the events which supposedly took place during the celebration. “It sounds nice.”

Kija turned to the Seiryuu, aghast at the implication. “Don't tell me you've never celebrated a Festivus before?”

Shin Ah sat momentarily paralysed, his spoon halfway to his mouth, as if worried he'd somehow given an incorrect answer, and then shyly shook his head. Ao stopped sipping broth from his bowl to mimic him.

“That's terrible!” exclaimed Zeno, his voice echoing loudly within their cave. “We’ll have to throw a Festivus celebration so you can experience it! Zeno loves celebrations.”

Yun’s initial frown had returned. “As I was trying to say before I was interrupted, Winter Festivus is coming up and, well… we’re all dirt poor.”

“That's not new information, Yun-kun, why does it bother you now?” Jae Ha asked.

“Well,” Yun sat up a little taller, evidently proud of his potential new idea, “I've come up with a plan - a way for all of us to celebrate the holiday together in an affordable manner.”

“You never let us down, such a good mother,” Jae Ha teased, seeing the boy was already looking happier.

“Watch it, you exotic leg-beast, or I won't let you take seconds.”

Jae Ha feigned being being distraught. “I take it all back, then. What's your plan, bishi-Yun?”

“We’ll pull names out of a pot. Whoever you get, that's the only person you'll get a gift for. The only person.” He looked specifically at Hak and Yona. “No extra gifts for anyone, got it? That way we’ll all get presents and it'll still be fair and cheap.”

“That sounds like fun!” Yona beamed as a thought occurred to her.  “Do you think when we pull out the name of the person we’re buying the gift for we keep that name a secret until Winter Festivus Day?”

Yun shrugged. “Sure, if you think it'll make it more interesting.”

“Yay!” Zeno threw his arms out in celebration “Seiryuu gets to experience his first Winter Festivus and Zeno will get a present! This is going to be great!”

Simply because Zeno was doing it, Shin Ah raised his arms out, too. “Yay,” he said in his soft voice and smiled, tentatively excited at the prospect of his first Festivus.  

“I'll write everyone’s names down and put them in a pot.”

“Not you, Droopy Eyes,” Hak warned. “I don't trust you to put your own name in only once.”

“Fufu, how mean, Hak.” Jae Ha pretended to pout.

“You can try and look cute all you like, but you're not my type so it won't work.”

The Ryokuryuu’s eyes lit up like stars. “You think I'm so cute when I pout that you tease me deliberately? Oh, Hak-kun…”

Hak sighed. “That’s… that's not what I said.”

“I’ll get the pot ready with everyone’s names,” volunteered Yun, “once we finish dinner.”  

He was rewarded with a chorus of “Thank you, mother!”

“I don't remember raising any of you as children!”

~*~

On the day of Winter Festivus they'd spent the morning and afternoon in the town taking in all the sights and sounds and smells the holiday had to offer them. They ate too many sweets, (some of them) drank a little too much and they spent as much money as they had on games (sometimes even winning little prizes). Shin Ah’s cheeks ached from smiling so much, more exhilarated than frightened at all the hustle and bustle. Zeno got lost in the crowd on more than one occasion and for a while Jae Ha was somehow roped into acting as a substitute for a band whose flute player was ill. For an hour or so Yun even set up shop and sold a few medicinal herbs (and what he marketed as ��hunky beast’ hugs, building on previous experience and exploiting not just Hak, but Kija and Jae Ha as well), although he guarded the money he earned from that business venture tightly, staunchly refusing to allow the others to waste any of it at the Festival.

As the afternoon dragged on and the sensations began to overwhelm them all a little, they agreed to return to their inn until the fireworks began at night. They’d rented two rooms (a small one for Yun and Yona, and a much larger one for the others), and gathered in the bigger of the two for the highly anticipated exchange of their Winter Festivus gifts.

They all sat in a circle, their presents hidden behind their backs as they gleefully tried to spy on one another, each of them brimming with anticipation.

“So, who wants to go first?” Yun asked when everyone was ready.

The Ouryuu volunteered immediately. “Zeno does!” Without waiting for permission he whipped out the gift from his sleeve: a rolled piece of cotton with something wrapped inside it. “This is for the Ryokuryuu! Happy Winter Festivus!” He tossed it to Jae Ha, sitting opposite him. “Zeno hopes he likes it and makes good use of it.”

Jae Ha looked up in surprise once he'd unrolled the cotton and realised what his gift was. “How did you know I needed this?” he asked.

“What is it?” Yona asked, not recognising what it was.

“It's Python skin,” he explained, “for my erhu.”

“Zeno noticed the Ryokuryuu wasn't playing as often after he dropped his bag during that fight in Sei, and that when he did play, the sound wasn't quite right. Zeno guessed that it was damaged and the Ryokuryuu was probably having trouble affording to fix it.”

Jae Ha nodded, surprised at Zeno’s perceptiveness. “This would have been expensive,” he said.

The Ouryuu smiled broadly. “That's why Zeno caught the python himself. It was free!”

Yona’s eyes widened in horror. “But didn't you get bitten?”

“Only a few times,” Zeno said in an attempt to placate her concerns, “but everyone knows the Ouryuu will always recover so it was no problem!”

“‘Only a few times’ is a lot, you careless dragon,” Yun said, “it’s not like a simple thorn prick!”

“But the python isn’t very poisonous and it only managed to break Zeno’s wrist once!”

“That doesn’t make it any better!”

Zeno simply laughed and patted the boy on the head.

“This is a very fine gift,” Jae Ha said, “the quality of the skin it high, and it’s been dried and treated perfectly. This was skillfully done. Thank you, Zeno-kun, I really appreciate it.”

Zeno scratched his hair, embarrassed at the sincerity of Jae Ha’s thanks. “Zeno’s happy his gift made the mister happy, too. Maybe the Ryokuryuu will start playing more for us in the evenings again?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he turned to the group. “Who’s next?”

“Well, since I got my gift, I think it's only fair I give my present next, right?” Jae Ha suggested.

“Oh, that's a good idea! Who did you pick from the pot?” Yona asked.

“That would be…” Jae Ha paused for dramatic effect, “Hak!” He pulled a large, white bottle out from behind him. “I hope you like it.”

“Cheongju, huh? Good choice.” Hak took the gift from Jae Ha and inspected the name. “This is a good brand, too,” he said appreciatively.

“It was difficult to get a hold of, I had to barter for it in a very dubious place, but it’s definitely the real deal.”

“I don’t want to know more,” Hak said, grinning, “but let's enjoy it together later tonight.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“No fair,” Kija protested, “you guys are always sharing drinks together.”

“Anyone’s welcome to join us, White Snake, if you can keep up with us.”

“It's Winter Festivus, the least you could do is call me by my proper title!”

Considering he was in a good mood, Hak felt there was no harm in obliging. “Fair enough, Hakuryuu. But just for today.”

Kija’s jaw fell open and Yona thought he looked adorable enough to giggle over.

To everyone’s surprise, Shin Ah spoke up. “What about you, Hak?” he asked, “who did you buy a gift for?”

“I’ve never seen you so excited, Shin Ah-kun.” Jae Ha said, highly amused. The boy blushed at the attention but from the way he was smiling and how tightly he was holding his hands together, it was obvious he was struggling to contain his glee. This was his first time celebrating a holiday and he was as excited to give a gift as he was to receive one.

Hak reached for a small bag in his robe and then went back in to pull out a pretty cloth folded in half as well. “It’s funny you should ask because it’s you,” he said, grinning, as he handed the goods over. “There are some nuts in the bag for Ao, and the gift in the cloth is yours.”

Shin Ah beamed and even though he was wearing a mask, Jae Ha was convinced the smile had reached those beautiful eyes of his. He held the cloth reverently, as if it could dissipate with a whisper, and stared at it without moving.

“Well?” Kija asked. “Don't you think you should open it, brother?”

Shin Ah looked up at Kija and it seemed to break the spell. He smiled again before laying the cloth onto his lap and carefully peeling it open. Inside were two medium-sized silk, yellow tassels, connected together with an intricate knot and decorated with two round green stones. Ao would have beamed too, except she’d already begun stuffing her cheeks with the nuts she'd found in the bag Hak had given her. “Just like Yona’s earrings,” Shin Ah whispered, holding his gift up for everyone to see. “Thank you.” He immediately got up and collected his sword, looping the tassels easily in the handle’s hoop.

“Hak made those himself,” Yona informed him, unable to hide her pride in her bodyguard’s hidden artistic talent. “That's why he could afford to buy materials of such good quality; he was able to purchase some silk string and unpolished gems and fashioned the tassels himself out of it.”

“Hak can make jewellery?” Yun asked, impressed. Jae Ha snorted with delight at the very idea.

“Weapon accessories,” Hak corrected, half embarrassed and half preening over the Princess’ praise. “It's important to know how to tie knots well, and I know how to polish things because it's an essential skill for weapons’ care.”

“The Mister is amazing,” Zeno exclaimed.

“I’ll treasure it.” Sitting back down with the group (his sword clutched lovingly) Shin Ah placed a clear jar of ointment in front of Kija. “I… I found this in the market. There were lots of different types, but… the lady there, she said that this was the best one. It should work to repel the toughest bugs. Happy Winter Festivus, Hakuryuu.”

Kija all but had hearts in his eyes and grabbed at the large jar eagerly. “Oh Shin Ah, how thoughtful!”

“I hope it works,” Shin Ah said, still holding his sword, “if it doesn't, I'll… I’ll go back and find you something else you might like.”

Kija shook his head vehemently. “No, no, there's no need. It's the thought that counts most of all, although I am sure it will aid me effectively in my battle against those terrible creepy crawlers from hell!” He opened the top and took an experimental sniff, scrunching his nose. “It’s certainly pungent,” he said. Ever the optimist he smiled broadly. “I can’t see how this will fail me!”

Shin Ah’s heart began to pound, happy beyond words at having succeeded in his first attempt to buy someone a present.

Jae Ha, however, smirked, knowing who was next. Almost everyone knew whose name Kija had picked from pot due to his ensuing panic and subsequent dedicated hunt for the perfect gift. “It’s your turn to give your gift now, Kija-kun. I wonder, who on earth could it have been?”

Kija went bright pink. “You know very well who it was! You made fun of me the whole time and turned my shopping experience into an absolute nightmare!”

Jae Ha shrugged his shoulders. “I was only trying to help...” he said, dolefully.

Kija wasn’t buying the act and angrily shook a fisted claw at the Ryokuryuu.  “You made too many suggestions and doubted all of my choices!”

Hak and Zeno couldn't help but laugh at his expression.

“Oh Kija, please don’t worry, I am sure whoever you got will love whatever it is you bought them, especially when you've obviously put so much thought and effort into finding their gift. Like you said to Shin Ah, that’s what really matters, right?”

Yona hadn’t realised it was possible for Kija’s blush to have gotten redder, but it did.

“Well, Princess, I hope that what you say is true because my person is you.” Without looking at her, he extended out his other hand, clutching a small wooden box. “I hope you like them,” he said shyly. “If not, I can always take them back and get them changed.”

“Oh.” Yona was pleasantly surprised. “I had no idea it was me!”

“Everyone else did.” Hak grinned. “He spent ages discussing what he should get you when everyone was trying to sleep and he wouldn't shut up.”

“Zeno remembers that night… he was so tired!”

“These are so pretty!” Yona was smiling widely from ear to ear, holding up a pair of new walking boots. “They look so comfortable, too!”

“Well I noticed your shoes are a bit worn and I know these ones are less slender but it’s the winter and I was thinking about the cold and how your feet might be getting more uncomfortable with the change in season-”

“Kija-”

“-and so when I saw them I thought you would like them but I wanted them to be pretty too because you’re a princess who deserves only the very best-”

“Kija…”

“-so I asked the cobbler to put some decoration on them and he did but if you don’t like them I can get you som-”

“Kija they’re wonderful and I love them,” Yona said loudly, interrupting his babble and doing everything she could to contain her laughter. “I could not be more grateful.”

“Oh,” he puffed out, utterly relieved, “I’m very glad.”

“I was just asking Hak the other day about whether or not I should get a heavier pair of shoes,” she said. “You've done me a great service because now I don't have to look for a new pair myself.” She smiled and held up her new shoes. “I'll start breaking them in tonight when we go to see the fireworks.”

Kija turned to give Jae Ha his familiar look of smug triumph.

“Well, considering there’s only the eternal seventeen year old and me left, I think we can easily figure out the rest.”

“The little lad is clever,” Zeno said, patting Yun’s head again. “Zeno’s excited to see what the little lad’s got him.”

“You’ll have to wait your turn. It’s Yona who’s supposed to give a present.”

“And here they are,” she said, presenting him with two books. “I know they’re a little boring,” she apologised, “I wanted to get you something more exciting, like a epic ballad or a historical romance but all I could afford was this old book of complicated maths. I bought it from a merchant who’d gotten it from a nobleman’s retired school tutor. I found the book on flora and fauna of the Xing Kingdom abandoned in one of the inns we stayed in a while ago.” She smiled at him. “One day, I’ll take you to the library at Kouka palace. You’ll be able to read anything you want, there are so many books there it’ll make your head spin, I promise. But for now, I hope these will do as a start.”

In a rare state of open emotion, Yun, unable to contain himself, got up to hug Yona tightly. The initial act took Yona by surprise, but the boy’s strong grip around her shoulders was a welcome thanks. Once he came to his senses he let go and sat himself back down as if nothing had happened and tossed Zeno a large, heavy bag. “Here,” he said while trying to duck his blushing face into his arm. “I made these for you.”

Zeno’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Sweets! The little lad made Zeno sweets! How joyful!” He shoved three into his mouth, one straight after the other and beamed, throwing his arms up into the air and making a ‘V’ with each hand. “In Zeno’s opinion, this is the best gift of them all! Happy Festivus Day to all!” His exuberance turned suddenly to trepidation, however, as everyone seemed to get the same idea at same the time. “No! Get away!” he yelled as they all pounced on him and tried to steal a sweet for themselves. “The little lad made them for me!”

~*~

“Uh… Princess, wait,” Hak said as the group made their way out of the inn to go watch the fireworks.

Yun eyed them both with suspicion and was about to open his mouth to berate Hak but Zeno caught him by the shoulders and pulled him away. “Come on, little lad, you and I aren’t as tall as the others, we have to go save spots up in the front or we won’t see anything!”

“That’s a good point,” Jae Ha added, winking quickly at Hak as he passed by. “I don’t want to have to carry you to higher ground, it’d be quite tiring, come along everyone.”

Once they were alone in the room, Hak began rifling through his things.

Having had no indication as to why she was asked to stay, Yona stood watching him awkwardly. Her eyes wandered over his muscular form - as they tended to do when she had an unimpeached view of him (stop it, she told herself, your cheeks will go red and he’s sure to notice!). She swallowed down the lump in her throat. “So… tonight was… um, fun? I really enjoyed celebrating Winter Festivus with everyone.” Yona tilted her head to get a better look at what he was pulling out of his pack when he didn’t respond. “What’s that?” she asked, uncertain if her suspicions about what he was about to do were correct. “Is that a new…”

“Yeah,” he said, standing up again and handing her a sleek, large bow. “For you.”

She gasped lightly. “Hak, this…” she took it from his outstretched hands and ran her fingers along the gift, “it’s beautiful.”

He nodded. “Bamboo core, ears of sandalwood and mulberry, and reinforced with buffalo horn,” he described, proud of his own find. “It’s a good bow.”

“But how did you-”

“I traded in the old one and a dagger I wasn’t using as part payment,” he answered, having anticipated her question. “It was worth it, though.”

“Oh…” To afford something so expensive he would’ve had to have sold one of his better weapons. Her heart ached at the thought of his generosity; he already gave her so much. “You didn’t have t-” she stopped herself when she noticed that of all things, Hak - the Thunder Beast of Kouka - was blushing. She immediately thought it better to simply take the gift in the spirit it was given. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel awkward about his kind gesture. “This is perfect, thank you.” As she was about to test the string she noticed something special about the decoration on the inner side of the bow. “Is that the royal crest in the design?” she asked, surprised.

He smirked. “You noticed. It wasn’t safe to make it obvious but this bow should last you a long time if you take care of it properly. I wanted it to be personal for you, so I kept it subtle and worked it into the pattern. It isn’t easy to see unless you’re really looking. I’m glad you like it. The crest is difficult to replicate, I wanted to do a good job with it.”

“You did,” she said, a smile blooming, “and I do really love it.” Her eyes pricked with tears, but she reigned them in.

“It’s a little bigger than the last one,” he said, “so with more training you’ll be able to reach targets which are further away. It’ll be harder to use but you’ve grown a lot in strength and in skill, and even a little in height,” he added with a grin, “so I’m sure you’ll adjust well.”

At his compliment she grinned, too. “I thought we were only supposed to buy a gift for the person whose name we pulled out of the pot,” she teased.

He stretched his arms out and yawned before answering, feigning nonchalance. “Technically it’s not a Festivus gift. It was about time you had an upgrade and it just so happens that I am giving it to you on Winter Festivus day.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “I broke no rules. Yun can’t punish me.”

Yona’s, however, widened with worry. “Wha? Will Yun really punish us for breaking the rules?” she asked in a panic. “You think he’ll deny me breakfast tomorrow?”

Hak lifted an eyebrow. “You bought someone else a gift?”

It was her turn to blush. “Sort of,” she said, looking down suddenly and finding her new bow very interesting all over again.

“Oh,” he said, mildly surprised, “then yes. I heard Yun say that anyone who bought more than one person a gift wouldn't be allowed food for two whole days.”

At that Yonas gaze shot up. “Whaaaa?! Noooo!” she wailed, “I would have eaten more at dinner if I’d-” she stopped when he burst out laughing at her, clutching at his stomach as he doubled over.  “Hak!” she yelled as she marched over to his pack and drew out an arrow from his quiver, “I'll test out my new bow by shooting you.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologised amid residual chuckles. “It was just too easy.”

She huffed, putting her bow down gently to pull out a piece of paper from a pocket in her dress. “I'm reconsidering whether I want to give you your Festivus gift.”

He stopped laughing completely at that. “Me?” he asked, surprised.

She began blushing as the rare look of shock in his gaze turned to assessment. He had a way of piercing straight through her, as if he could read her heart like it was an open book. It took all of her strength not to toss the folded sheet of paper at him and run away in embarrassment.

“What’s this?” He opened it, genuinely curious, and read.

“Your gift. I didn't have enough money so…”

“Princess, this is a list of my chores,” he narrowed his eyes in suspicion as they tore themselves away from the paper and peered into her face. “Are you trying to tell me I'm being a slacker?”

Of all his potential reactions, that one had never actually occurred to her. “What? No!”

“Then-”

“You work so hard,” she explained, “you’ve always- well,” she stopped herself, “maybe not when we were in the palace when you used to take naps all the time-”

“It wasn’t all the time,” he mumbled, but she was too far into her spiel to notice.

“-but maybe even then you probably used to nap a lot because I was always such hard work to protect,” she was blushing furiously as she struggled to get back to the focus of her speech, “but that's not the point, you see my point is-”

“Princess-”

“-you do so much, not just for me but for everyone, but also mainly for me, and you never, ever stop. You're always helping out and you’re always on the lookout and you care about everyone so very much. I'm trying to become strong like you, Hak, but it's taking a little while so in the meantime I wanted to just-”

“Princess, slow down.” Hak placed his hands firmly onto her shoulders, bending slightly so that he was eye-level with her, grabbing her attention. “You're sounding flustered,” he said and gave her a gentle smile of reassurance. “I don't mind doing what I do, truly. I work hard because it makes me happy. There's no reason for you to get so stressed about it, especially when I have so many friends that I can count on to take care of me, too.” Pulling away, he waved the paper briefly. “Thank you for laying out my chores for me in an easy list. I’m grateful, for you and your kind gift,” before she could answer he continued on, “Yun would appreciate how organised I'll be from now on. It'll definitely help.”

It was Yona’s turn to frown. “That's not what that is.” Honestly, she thought, he can be so obtuse sometimes. It was half cute and half irritating, which sort of made it even more endearing to her. “They're gifts,” she explained. “The next time you have to do one of those chores I'll do it for you, instead.” She looked up at him, eyes hopeful that he'd like it. “It's not much, but even you need a break too, sometimes.”

For a second she worried she’d said something to upset him. He stood perfectly still, his gaze intense and focused entirely on her.

“Hak?” Before she could say anything more he’d gripped her into a tight hold, just like Yun had done earlier, only this one was much, much fiercer. He’d pulled her close to him, enveloping her small frame entirely, and then pulled away just as quickly. She’d barely had time to register what had happened.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling broadly and not looking sorry at all, “I was greedy and took two gifts from you instead of one.”

“That’s… that’s ok, I didn’t mind,” she said quietly.

They stood grinning awkwardly at each other for a few moment, happy to be within the presence of the other. 

Eventually Hak cleared his throat. “Maybe you should go put your bow away,” he suggested, “we’ll need to catch up with the others soon or we'll miss the fireworks.”

“Alright,” she agreed and bent down to pick up her gift. “Thank you for this,” she said, smiling happily. “Happy Winter Fesitivus, Hak.”

“Happy Winter Festivus, Princess.”

[shannaraisles]

Set In Darkness

Chapter: 31 Author name: ShannaraIsles Rating: M Warnings: Canon-typical threat and violence; unpopular characterisation of an NPC Summary: She’s a Modern Girl in Thedas, but it isn’t what she wanted. There’s a scary dose of reality as soon as she arrives. It isn’t her story. People get hurt here; people die here, and there’s no option to reload if you make a bad decision. So what’s stopping her from plunging head first into the Void at the drop of a hat?

I, Spy

"Um, Rory? There's a ... man ... here to see you."

"Busy," Rory called back, not even glancing up from her current task.

She was picking maggots out of a wound - maggots she'd put there a few hours ago - much to the disgust of the patient himself. He was oddly enthralled, though, not having believed her when she'd promised the maggots would clean up the necrotic wound much faster than she could. She was right, too; the crawling larvae had picked the deep gash clean of all dead tissue, not interested in living flesh. Now all that remained was to clean and dress the wound, and hope he remembered to come back to have the dressing checked before it went necrotic through lack of care again.

Evy was holding clinic, but it sounded as though she'd come up against something that had stumped her. Rory could hear her apologizing to whoever it was.

"It's fine, I'll wait."

Now there was a voice she recognized. No wonder Evy sounded nervous - the Iron Bull had a big presence, even if you could somehow discount his physical size. The Chargers had arrived the night before, bedding down in their own slightly chaotic camp just outside Haven's gates. Rory was eager to pick their healer's brains about wound care. Still, it was no surprise that Evy was uncomfortable - Kaaras still made her nervous, so no wonder she was eager to hand the Iron Bull over to her senior, unaware that Rory had her own reasons for being wary of the newest Qunari in the village. But it was her job, and she might be able to pick up some news about what Kaaras was doing out there in the world right now.

It took several minutes to clean and pack the wound before her, using cobwebs to stifle the flow of fresh blood before she wrapped the whole thing in several layers of bandage. Tucking his pants leg down over the new dressing, she let him sit up and put his own boot on, packing away the unused bandages as he did so.

"I want to see you back here in two days," she told the man, a local wood-cutter named Aedan who was only in need of her because he'd managed to miss the tree and hit himself with his axe. Frankly, he was lucky not to have tetanus. "If this gets infected or goes necrotic again, we might have no choice but to amputate."

"You can't do that, mistress, I've a family to support," Aedan objected as he rose to his feet.

"Then you need to look after yourself and come back when I tell you do," Rory informed him pointedly. "If you decide to ignore me again, you will only have yourself to blame."

"I'll come back," he promised with a wide-eyed nod. "I'll tell my kids, they'll make sure I do."

"Good."

Rory smiled, sending him off as she returned her maggots to their bucket and set about thoroughly washing her hands and wrists. She was never going to get used to working on flesh and bone without gloves.

"Scare tactics," Bull's rumbling voice said approvingly. "Nicely done."

Rory glanced up at the gasp that erupted from one of the in-patients, drying her hands as she did so. The big Qunari filled the doorway, hunched over to peer inside curiously at the three occupied beds, and the healer and nurses tending them. A quick look at her colleagues and patients showed that he was more than a little intimidating. And it wasn't a shock, really. Kaaras was big, but the Iron Bull was huge. And half-naked. That chest should be illegal, she heard the inner fangirl squeak excitedly. Oh, hello, you've woken up again, have you? Pillowy man bosoms! ... oh, good grief.

"This is a private ward, actually," she heard herself say. "Could you ...?"

The Ben-Hassrath agent eyed her for a moment as she gestured toward him. "My pleasure," he said, ducking to back up as she moved to leave the patients in Andra's capable hands, closing the door firmly behind her.

Evy was standing by the desk, her eyes wide as she stared at the Iron Bull. She caught Rory's amused glance and blushed, forcing herself to look away from their very male visitor. "Should ... should I do the ... thing?" she asked her senior nervously. "With the sisters?"

Taking pity on her friend - whom she knew still blushed and giggled when Rylen took his shirt off - Rory nodded. "You might as well," she agreed. "Oh, and could you thank Mother Giselle? That lotus she had gathered was very helpful."

"I can do that," Evy assured her, gathering her basket of supplies before heading for the door.

The young Trevelyan had grown used to being the go-between for Rory and the Revered Mother over the last few days. It was awkward for Rory herself to speak to Giselle or her lay sisters after that debacle in the Chantry, and likely always would be, but the two sides had come to an accord; namely, that they all stopped sniping at each other and accepted the help offered on both sides. There was even going to be a short service held in the clinic once a week for the patients unable to attend the Chantry itself - Rory's idea, offered tentatively through Evy as an olive branch. Mother Giselle had responded by asking if the healers could spare some time each week to teach basic care to some of her people, and had taken it upon herself to keep an eye on their stock. If anything began to dwindle, it was replenished within days on Mother Giselle's orders. So while it was unlikely they were ever going to be friends, at least there was a productive truce now. Perhaps the dragon wasn't as bad as all that.

As Evy made her escape, Rory sat down at the desk, gesturing for Bull to make himself comfortable. "You wanted to see me?"

"Just making the rounds," the massive warrior assured her, settling his bulk onto the stool set aside for visiting patients. "Introducing myself ... the Iron Bull, leader of the Bull's Chargers." He gestured toward the doors. "Sorry about that - I figured you would all be used to Qunari by now."

"To be fair, you're a very big Qunari," she pointed out through a friendly smile. "Between the eye-patch, the horns, and the ... impressive physique, I'm pretty sure you have most of the village either deeply intimidated or intensely curious."

Bull laughed. "You're right, I do," he agreed with easy confidence. "Fair amount of lust, too."

Rory felt her cheeks pink. "Good to know," she said, laughing a little herself. She was absolutely devoted to Cullen, but she wasn't blind. Bull was sex on legs, and what's worse, he knew it. "Is that why you're here? Do you need to stock up on lubricant?"

This drew a louder laugh from the mercenary leader. "First time a human healer's asked me that," he crowed cheerfully. "But seriously ... Stitches, our healer, wanted me to ask if you have any supplies to spare."

"And he sent the leader of the Chargers to ask for him, did he?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicious amusement.

"No, it's just my flimsy pretext for getting a consult with a pretty redhead," Bull admitted openly, his one eye admiring her where she sat. Just because I'm a redhead.

Despite the squeaky voice in her head shouting Ride the Bull! Ride the Bull!, Rory rolled her eyes. "A taken redhead," she corrected him, ignoring her own blushing. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Ah, you southerners and your committed relationships," he lamented comically, but she thought she saw faint approval in his singular gaze.

"I'm sure you'll have no shortage of people willing and eager to, um ... work off a little tension with you," she assured him with a low laugh. He certainly spreads his oats in the game.

"True, I'm not hurting for partners," he conceded readily. His gaze sharpened. "I was wondering, though ... who do you work for?"

The question surprised her enough that she answered without considering why he was asking that. "The Inquisition, obviously."

"Who else?" Bull asked, and now there was no sign of easy humor. "What I mean is, are we all on the same side here?"

Rory stared at him, feeling the beginnings of fear prickle down her spine. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she told him, her hackles starting to rise.

"Really?" He leaned back, studying her for a very uncomfortable few minutes. It was only when she started to fidget that he spoke again. "You caught my eye this morning. You watch everyone, making sure you say the right thing, do the right thing, making sure you fit in. There's a secret you're sitting on, something that makes you worried to be found out. Professional courtesy, you understand. I want you to know I know."

There was no denying the flash of fear that gripped her as he spoke. Why hadn't she considered this scenario? Of course he would leap to the obvious conclusion. She had a secret; she must be a spy. But who did he think she was spying for, that was the question. And what he might do if his orders came back against her. Bull at this point was definitely an agent of the Qun - he would report the presence of a suspected rival spying on the Inquisition, and he might well receive orders to kill her.

"I'm not a spy," she quavered, wondering if she could make it to the door before he snapped her neck, and knowing with sickening certainty that she couldn't. "Really, honestly, I'm not. I just ... I'm not from here, and ... I don't ... no one would trust me if ... I swear, I swear, I'm not a spy. I'm just trying to get by!"

It was unnerving to be the focus of that steady, one-eyed gaze; to know that he had seen how much she didn't fit here so easily. Her mouth was dry as she faced him, trying to hold down the panic that had her heart racing. Right now, her life was totally in his hands. She found herself hoping that he killed her; that, at least, would be easier than a public denouncement. Every friend she had made would turn their backs, hurt by her duplicity; Cullen would be devastated to discover his trust had been so poorly placed again. She didn't think she could bear to see them all hurt so badly by a lie that she'd only told to protect herself in the first place. She could feel the despair already making itself known ... and then, the miracle happened.

Iron Bull leaned forward, frowning as he noted the true fear in every nuance of her face and form. "No," he said finally, his tone gentle with thought. "No, you're really not, are you." It wasn't a question. "Fear, real fear, is impossible to fake. And no spy would be so afraid as you are right now." He held her gaze for another long moment, eventually leaning back as his expression smoothed. "Whatever you're running from, it won't find you here. And if it does, the Iron Bull will kick its ass."

She'd never felt fear melt into sudden security before. It was a shock to the system, draining the color from her face, setting her hands to shaking as she drew in a querulous breath. In ... out ... in ... he's decided you're not a threat, this is good. In ... out ... A large hand appeared in front of her face, offering her a cup.

"Drink, little red," Bull told her gently. "It's just water."

He watched as she gulped down one mouthful of the painfully cold liquid, then another, the mere act of drinking helping to slow her breathing and calm her thumping heart. It was the closest she'd ever come to a panic attack - strange, that the one who had created that moment of heart-stopping terror was the one now working to calm her down. And it's working, too. With Bull on one knee beside her, she slowly relaxed, trusting that he really didn't mean her any harm. Despite his role under the Qun, the character was startlingly honest, and it seemed that was true of the flesh and blood reality, too.

"That's better," he drawled in approval as she came back to herself. "You don't look so good with no color in your cheeks."

"Is it obvious?" she blurted out worriedly. "That I ... that I'm not from around here?"

He shook his horned head, settling himself back on the stool once again. "Only to me," he assured her. "Maybe to your spymaster. But she trusts you. No danger there."

"Okay." It was still alarming to think that Leliana saw what Bull had seen, but the bard hadn't moved against her. That was encouraging. "Sorry, I, um ..."

"Didn't mean to scare you so bad," the big Qunari said, dismissing her apology. "Just had to be sure, you know? We're good, little red."

Rory bit her lip, surprised to feel herself smile, in spite of her fright. "Little red?" she asked. Why does everyone feel the need to give me nicknames? Cupcake, Ror, sweeting, and now little red?

Bull snorted with laughter. "You're little, and you're a redhead," he explained easily enough. "Cullen's redhead, but still ... redhead."

Despite herself, he'd piqued her interest. "How do you know that? You've only been here one night."

"He bristled up like a lion on guard when I asked who you were." Bull shrugged, grinning at her expression. "Doesn't take much to spot a possessive lover, even if he is wound tighter than the Arishok."

She bit her lip again, oddly touched that the commander was possessive over her. I really do owe him some company tonight, she reminded herself. It was about time she trusted her new nurses to do their job without her supervision. They still hadn't quite reached the point where loving words and kisses became truly intimate, but she felt sure they'd get there. Eventually.

"Anyway, I've got a real reason for being here, too," Iron Bull told her, reaching up to run a cautious fingers over the leather wrapped about his right horn. "This is rubbing down to the quick. Gets painful after a while."

Now here was a challenge. "I don't know much about Qunari, but I can take a look," she offered, rising to her feet for a better vantage point. "May I?"

"Go right ahead."

He was right about the rubbing. The leather strap that helped to secure his eye-patch in place had worn a groove into his horn, deep enough that it almost looked in danger of bleeding. Do horns bleed, she wondered, considering her options. The answer to his problem seemed simple, but she wasn't sure it was workable for him. Still, he had said it was painful, which meant there was living tissue there, so he might not have a choice but to make it work for him.

"Is it possible to re-site the strap?" she asked, reaching for a cloth and water to gently clean the groove, testing it for tenderness or sensitivity. "I don't think it's possible to pad this deep a mark without irritating the tissue underneath."

"I've been hoping not to have to move it," the big mercenary admitted reluctantly. "It's a bitch to get the patch comfortable. What about a pain reliever instead?"

"Hmm ..." Frowning, Rory considered her rack of ointments and potions. "Well, there's one ointment that might help," she suggested thoughtfully. "I usually use it on toothache and arthritic joints, but it does contain elfroot, and that little plant work wonders on just about everything."

"You think my horns are like teeth?" he asked, not sounding impressed.

"I don't know anything about horns," she told him truthfully. "But this does look like it will only get more painful as the strap rubs deeper. I think you should get a wider strap, if it can't be moved, but the ointment should help with the irritation."

"It's worth a try," he conceded, letting her smear a generous amount onto the groove in his horn. "I'll let you know if it works."

"If it doesn't, we can try something else," she promised, wiping her hands clean as he wrapped the leather back into place. "Adan should be able to come up with something." Or Master Dennet, she thought, keeping that to herself. Bull wasn't an animal, but she might need the horsemaster's expertise to work up a treatment for an injury to his horn.

"You're the boss, little red." The Qunari spy rose to his feet, towering over her once again. It was just as well she already felt small around most humans here, otherwise this might have upset her again.

"Kaaras is the boss," she corrected him with a smile.

"Not yet," Bull pointed out, his grin pretending to know all sorts of things she didn't. "Stitches'll stop by later." He stretched, patting her gently on top of her head. "Thanks."

"My pleasure."

As soon as he was gone, she sank back into her seat, shaking all over once again. Holy crap on a cracker ... that was too close.