#all I’m saying is if they were thinking about torture via salt water why not an tazer trident….. classic torture tactic after all…
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Umm… I just realized that out of c!Sam’s two Warden tridents, the one he has Channeling (the enchantment that summons lightning) on is named Wardens Mercy… like what?! Is that supposed to imply he used it or planned on using it on c!Dream as some form of electric shock torture?!…
#all I’m saying is if they were thinking about torture via salt water why not an tazer trident….. classic torture tactic after all…#ya know if Wardens’ WILL BREAKER or Warden’s TORMENT isn’t enough to make Dream talk….#c!dream#c!sam#I’m just not putting it past the ccs… they are insane and what else name a trident Warden’s MERCY like…#pandora’s vault has a singular purpose#c!awesamdude#dreblr#prison arc#this is fine#dsmp#pandora's vault#c!dream and c!sam#lore things#dsmpblr#dsmp analysis#dishing up lore#dsmp lore#lore thoughts#dream smp#SAM!! What the hell is wrong with you?!
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So it’s recently come to my attention that not everyone in the world has actually watched The Old Guard (WHO KNEW?!) so I’m going to try and do some info dumps about the world, the general canon and Andy’s history, personality, powers etc. This will ... probably get kinda lengthy.
Also: MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS FOR COMICS & MOVIE.
The first thing you need to know is that for the main part, the history and the world that TOG takes place in is the exact same one as the real history of the world. It’s set in modern day, though the plot points stretch back to 7k+ years ago. It’s also important to note that there is a lot of historical inaccuracies and some things in canon that conflict themselves so it’s best to just take it all with a grain of salt and just go with what works best for your particular preferences etc.
The main difference between reality and TOG is that in TOG there are a very minute like .00000000002% of the population that are immortals. Now, it’s important to note that these people can die but they resurrect pretty close to immediately after they die no matter the amount of damage done. Now it can take some time to fully heal or reform, depending on how extensive the trauma (being blown to bits or burned etc. will take longer to fix but there’s no amount of damage that we know of that can actually keep them dead).
There are times when, for reasons unknown to the characters in character (or to us as readers of the comics / viewers of the movie etc) that the immortality just stops. There’ll just be a time that they suffer injuries that just don’t heal, and they die. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to this, be it age, number of times they’ve died, whatever. Now, I have my own entirely headcanon and personal preference based theory which you can find HERE but it’s totally just a random idea that I had that I liked to explain the loss of Andy’s immortality in the movie (that doesn’t happen in the comics) and lets me say that she regains her immortality post canon so that I can nudge things back in the direction of the comics for post movie plots and so on.
Andy is, as far as we know, and as far as she knows, the oldest (human) immortal, coming in at around 7,000 years old. She was born into a tribe, the Scythia (hence what she’s generally called: Andromache the Scythian). A nomadic warrior tribe that I headcanon to be a matriarchy, Andy was betrayed by the ‘queen mother’ when she was sixteen and killed in battle because the leader feared that Andy posed a danger to her continuing rule. This person was practically a mother to Andy and it was a horrific betrayal. What was almost as shocking to Andy was the fact that she got back up again after being literally stabbed in the back and killed.
In the vein of trying to thwart prophecies making them happen, Andy killed the matriarch and took her placce ruling the tribe, eventually becoming a God King to her people and ruling over them for hundreds of years until her loneliness absolutely overwhelmed her and one day she just vanished.
At some point after this, she began to dream of a woman, feeling a pull towards this stranger that she couldn’t begin to explain. After dozens, maybe hundreds of years, she managed to track down the woman in question (Noriko in the comics, Quynh in the movie) and realized that they’d been dreaming of each other. (In the comics she meets Lykon before Quynh/Noriko, whom she had also been dreaming of).
Now, the connection between these immortals isn’t explained in canon, and for a long time, Andy, Lykon, Noriko (and eventually Joe, Nicky, Book) thought they were the only ones but there is a scene in the second set of comics that implies that there are other ‘packs’ of immortals. I headcanon that it’s a ‘like calls to like’ / kind of Sense8 simpatico type thing - like minded souls drawn to each other, which is why Andy and the others didn’t know about the other immortals, but again, that’s just entirely my thoughts on the matter.
Lykon is the first to succumb to the loss of immortality, a short couple hundreds years after he and Andy find each other. He dies on a battlefield, one that he and Quynh/Noriko and Andy fought on like a hundred/thousand before, champions for the abused etc. Skip forward a couple hundred years again and enter Joe & Nicky, a Knight and a Muslim warrior who kill each other on the battlefield only to both wake up and spend (an unspecified amount of time) hunting and killing each other before eventually Andy & Quynh/Noriko find them. In time, Joe & Nicky realize that they love each other. (Important to note that Quynh/Noriko and Andy were also lovers). In the movie, when the first major surge of witch hunts began, Quynh/Noriko and Andy go to help the women that stood accused, only to be captured and accused of witchcraft themselves. After being hung, drowned, burned at the stake and coming back to life every time, the witch hunters settled on locking Quynh into an iron coffin and dropping her into the ocean. (In the comics, Noriko is lost at sea during a massive storm that had thrown their ship entirely off course with Andy having no clue where they actually were at the time.)
Joe & Nicky arrive in time to rescue Andy, but Noriko is already gone and despite spending decades tracking down every person even remotely involved in the so called ‘investigation’ into the women’s inquisition and punishment, Andy wasn’t able to find anything about where Quynh could be.
Cue angst & depression & guilt for ages after.
The trio still steps in over the following decades, trying to help prevent the worst of atrocities, but Andy quickly begins to spiral into an, at best apathetic, at worst, entirely distant and withdrawn mindset and steadily begins to lose hope that they’re actually making any difference at all.
Skip ahead a century or two and enter Book; a Russian conscript who had been forced into the fight after being convicted of forgery. Hung for desertion, Book spend days dying over and over again as he hung there, unable to attempt an escape until the troops finally packed up and moved on. He and Andy, Nicky and Joe meet up and Book kinda reluctantly joins their little group. It’s revealed that Book dreams, still, of Noriko/Quynh and while he can’t tell where hse is, dreams of her still dying, drowning on the floor of the ocean over and over and over like she had been for the last hundred or two years.
Book returns at some point to his mortal family which ended in disaster when his last remaining son was dying of cancer, cursing and screaming at Book for ‘choosing not to save him’ by making him immortal too, even though it’s something Book had no ability to transfer or make happen. Between his nightmares, losing his son and a number of other factors, Book decides he wants to end it all but no matter what he tries, doesn’t die and stay dead.
Eventually he’s approached by a pharmaceutical company that has figured out what he is and wants to run tests on him to see if they can unlock his healing / immortality for other people. Merrick’s company works in league with an ex CIA agent whose wife died of a horrific terminal disease who hopes that they can find a way to keep anyone else from dying if they don’t have to. Initially it was just supposed to be him, but he’d set up a display to stream for proof of what he was / they were and the corp decided they wanted all of the immortals. Book ends up betraying the team, and he and the others end up locked up and tested on / killed / experimented on etc.
There’s another character introduced in the meantime, the first new immortals in centuries, an American soldier named Niles. There’s a lot more that goes on here, but the main point is that in the movie, Andy stops healing from her wounds shortly after she tracks down Nile and is put into incredible amounts of danger when Merrick (the leader of the pharmaceutical company) captures Andy, Joe, Book, Nicky. Book is devastated, Nicky and Joe are furious, Andy’s just tired.
Eventually, Andy and the others break free with Niles’ help, destroy the lab they were originally held in etc and set out to try and hunt down any other proof, lab results, anything that Merrick got his hands on during the tests.
The group meets and settles on a hundred year exile for Booker (which I think is one of the stupidest things - like, the man’s clearly desperate and depressed and lonely and mentally unstable so by all means let’s isolate him for a fully century) and at the end of the movie we see him stumbling home to his apartment six months later to find Quynh standing in his apartment, pouring and drinking a glass of water which is a whole power move considering how many millions of times she died by drowning.
In the comics, Quynh/Noriko was driven entirely mad and to the point of wanting vengeance against Andy for abandoning her and spends a while gaslighting Andy and torturing her physically and emotionally and what not until she manages to isolate Andy from the other immortals and scoops in to ‘rescue’ Andy. IDK what they’re going to adapt this to in the second movie,
Again, via the link posted above, my Andy slowly begins to regain her immortality (again, IDK what they’re going to do with the next movie).
Uhhhh yeah. So I .. think that’s the majority of what you need to know for canon info about Andy. THIS is also an important PSA regarding my Andy’s history & her longest lasting relationship that has nothing to do with canon at all but that is part of Andy’s bg in every verse, even if it never comes into play.
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The events following Kylo Ren being stabbed, rebirthing as his former self (Ben Solo) in the waters of Kef Bir and seeking redemption aboard the ship of his father, Han Solo: A Star Wars Fanfic
The cockpit was cold.
That at least, thought Ben Solo, is the same.
He cleared his throat, nervous.
“What was that?” Poe Dameron called from the front of the cockpit – barely looking over his shoulder as lightspeed blurred by in the windows of the Millennium Flacon.
“Nothing,” Ben said, still dripping wet and salt smattered from the oceans of Kef Bir. “Just clearing my throat.”
In the co-pilot’s seat next to Poe, FN-2187 shifted, uncomfortable.
Ben remembered a time where he had sat in that chair as his father took the Flacon to lightspeed. Chewbacca had sat where he was sitting now, but Ben now felt a lot less jovial than Chewy had during those flights.
He gritted his teeth and gripped the wound at his side where Rey had stabbed him. It had been largely cartelized by the lightsaber and the scar itself healed by Rey, but it still hurt.
“Do you have any bacta onboard?”
“What was that?” Poe called again, not even turning his head a little.
Ben opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it. “Never mind.”
FN-2187 was still silent, staring at the dash of the Falcon.
“By the way,” Ben said, this time speaking against his better judgement. “Thanks for the ride. You can drop me off wherever. Coruscant, Kessel, you’re secret resistance base.”
He counted fifteen seconds of silence before adding: “Honestly, whatever works best for you.”
More time passed in silence – only the familiar modulating hum of the Falcon and the blues and greys of hyperspace showed time was passing. As he was sitting there – barely feeling any dryer than before – Ben began observing the interior of the cockpit.
Some nerf herder bypassed the compressor, he thought, noticing a missing modulator.
“Flip that switch for me.”
Ben turned, thinking that someone was speaking to him, but it was just Dameron, telling FN-2187 to push the ship a little harder via one of the levers on the co-pilot’s side of the ship.
“Interesting,” Ben said, without thinking.
Poe fully turned around at that. “What?”
Ben shook his head and looked at the floor.
Don’t force choke them and fly the ship yourself. Don’t force choke them and fly the ship yourself.
When he looked back up, Poe had turned his attention back to hyperspace. FN-2187 seemed to have sunk further down in his chair.
I should tell them, Ben thought. It would be rude not to tell them.
“It’s just not the decision I would have made,” Ben said. “And not the decision I’d have expected from the best pilot in the resistance… might overclock the ship. She’s an antique.”
Poe cleared his throat and cocked his head a little. “Well, I think she’s had some repairs since the last time you were aboard.”
“Uncle Klaud’s efforts?” Ben said, thinking of the slug-like Trodatome who’d been spotted on multiple occasions on board the Falcon over the past few months. “I wouldn’t trust his work…”
“Sorry,” Poe said. “I should trust who?”
“Listen, I understand that was a jab at me,” Ben said, “but Klaud doesn’t have any hands so even his best work tends to be mostly just passable.”
Poe took a long breath, then pointed to the same lever FN-2187 had pressed up earlier.
“Take that up a few notches would you, Finn?”
Finn?
The former stormtrooper complied.
Ben nodded in understanding. “So you’re going by Finn now?”
FN-2187, remained silent.
“Good name,” said Ben. “Strong name. I’m going by Ben now. So… you know, if you pass me in the hallway at the resistance base—”
“We’re not taking you to the resistance base,” Poe said.
“—you can call me Ben… Or Solo… or Mr. Solo even, though Mr. Solo was my father.”
“Yeah,” Poe said, looking back at him again. “How is your relationship with your dad?”
The wound in Ben’s side hurt a little more.
“Okay, I get it,” he said. “You’re mad at me and yeah I did some bad stuff—“
Poe laughed dryly.
“—but in my defense, I had a rough childhood.”
Now FN-2187 spun around in his chair, staring vibroblades at Ben.
“Sorry!?” he spat. “You had a rough childhood?”
Ben had one of a hundred prepared personal anecdotes he was ready to hurl back at the traitorous stormtrooper. But as he opened his mouth to launch into the particular tragedy of his forgotten 12th birthday, he remembered the conditioning chambers aboard the Finalizer.
Now Ben stared at the dash of the Falcon until he felt Finn’s eyes slowly slide off him.
“I mean,” Ben said, at barely a whisper. “It could have been better.”
The ship shuddered as it was taken out of hyperspace. (The kind of shutter Ben associated with an overclocked motivator.) He glanced out the windows.
“You’re dropping me on Corellia?”
“Yep,” Poe said. “It’s where you’re dad’s from right? Thought you might have some family there and I figure they’re probably worried sick about you.”
“Actually,” Ben said – even though he was 90% sure Poe was being facetious—“My closest living family member is on… whatever planet your secret resistance base is located on.”
“Really?!” The mock surprise in Poe’s voice couldn’t be missed as he entered the planet’s atmosphere. “Anyone we know? Anyone you didn’t blow into space?”
“Yes, because, technically, that wasn’t me.”
As Poe landed the ship, he smashed his hand against a button and the sound of the Falcon’s ramp lowering could be heard in back.
For a few more seconds, they all sat in silence.
Poe looked back at Ben again – his shoulder muscles clearly tense. “Well, are you going?”
“Oh… uhm… I guess… I just thought…”
“What?”
“Well, this is my father’s ship... so…”
Silence.
Ben continued. “I know I killed him, but I had a conversation with his memory earlier and we’re totally cool now.”
Poe closed his eyes. “Do you want to keep talking or do you want to get off my ship?”
“Right,” Ben stood up, trying his best to remind himself that he was not Supreme Leader Kylo Ren – feared and dreaded across the galaxy – but cool, smooth talking, regular guy Ben Solo who would never force choke a high ranking resistance officer and a turncoat of the highest order before throwing them through the glass of Han Solo’s ship… no matter how much part of him wanted to.
“When you get back to your secret resistance base,” Ben said before leaving the cockpit, “could you tell my mom where I am so she can pick me up?”
“We’ll think about it,” Poe said. “Now get moving.”
“That was horrible,” Finn said as Kylo left the ship. “He was just looming back there the entire ride.”
“I know, buddy,” Poe said, piloting the Falcon back into the air. “We’ll get out of here and you won’t have to think about it anymore.”
“Say which of us you think he wanted to kill more on three,” Finn said.
In perfect unison the two counted: “One. Two. Three – Me.”
They looked at one another.
“Really?” Poe said.
“I mean,” Finn shrugged, “why would it be you?”
“His mom loves me. Loves me.”
“I used to work for him.”
“He tortured me.”
“He sliced my spine like a stuck gooberfish! The entire trip my spine was tingling, not because I was scared, but because I kept on worrying he’d slice it in half the entire trip!”
Poe nodded in concession. “Okay, yeah that’s fair. Though we did see him throw his lightsaber into the ocean.”
“I don’t care, I’m still not gonna mess with that… We are going to tell the general we left him on Corellia though, right?”
“Course,” Poe said. “She’d want to know.” He flipped a switch and launched them into the cold blue swirl of hyperspace.
#Fanfic#star wars#rise of skywalker#ben solo#sequel trilogy#kylor ren#Poe Dameron#fn-2187#finn#My Roommate made me write fanfic#I haven't done this in almost a decade#Look what you have wrought
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The Piano Man
Request: Yes / No
Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3999
Warnings: TALK OF RAPE I will not be tagging anyone but do not read if you are triggered by rape! (This is based on season seven episode 12)
Y/N: Your Name
Y/L/N: Your Last Name
PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!
If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!
Masterlist
(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)
A long time ago I used to live in Houston. That was a part of my life that I never wanted to return to. But now, it looks like I had no choice. I had joined the BAU team in the FBI and our case was back in my hometown.
“So Houston PD needs our boots on the ground for the Piano Man case.” Garcia said and I silently gulped.
“The serial rapist?” Morgan asked.
“A case we consulted on about eight months ago. Twelve victims over five years.” Hotch said and he glanced at me. He knew that I was one of those women that he had hurt, he was the only one that knew. Not even my boyfriend of one year knew, I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone else. Hotch needed to know because it came up on my psych eval, but that was the only reason. The local PD didn’t even know, I never reported it because I was scared…
“He crosses racial and social lines, ages too.” He added and kept glancing at me, I knew the others noticed as well.
“Power assertive?” Prentiss asked.
“Knocks them out with a date rape drug, and binds them with piano wire…” Rossi said.
“They wake up with no memory of the assault or how they got the permanent scar the wire leaves.” I said, managing to keep my voice leveled.
“So he’s branding his victims. How does he dose them?” Prentiss asked.
“Houston PD still isn’t sure ‘cause, you know, date rape drugs metabolize quickly, and he’s keeping them for twelve hours.” Penelope answered before I could say anything. To be fair, I have no memory of how he drugged me, so even I didn’t know.
“So why are they calling us in now?” Morgan asked.
“Because of these most recent attacks. This piece of work has elevated sick and twisted to a whole new dimension. Cases in point- Brittany Anderson filed a report after she woke up outside the restaurant she was abducted from, and Vanessa Campbell was just reported missing.” Penelope answered and my eyes widened.
“Wait, those were victims two and five, weren’t they?” Spencer asked.
“Yes. He’s going back and attacking survivors a second time.” Penelope confirmed.
“Vanessa was grabbed from her house? He’s changing his M.O. from what we studied. He’s upping his game.” JJ said.
“Well, we know he stalks them. But public venue abduction, he has the power. Home invasion, he’s on their turf.” Morgan said.
“So he’s betting he can gain control before they get to a phone or a gun.” Spencer said.
“The question is why? What is he getting from revisiting old victims?” Rossi asked.
“It seems careless for someone who’s been so controlled up to now.” Hotch said.
“What is this? On the floor?” Prentiss asked.
“Uh, that- oh, God, that is the contents of Vanessa Campbell’s stomach, which she ralphed up.” Penelope answered.
“And in the glass?” Prentiss asked.
“According to the police report, it is salt and water.” Penelope answered.
“Homemade emetic.” Prentiss said.
“E-what what?” Penelope asked.
“Quick and dirty cocktail meant to induce vomiting.” Rossi answered.
“Vanessa Campbell and her husband moved to a new address. They’ve put locks on the doors. They took precautions. She even knew what to do if she was dosed again, and it still wasn’t enough. That’s what he gets out of it.” Prentiss explained.
“Their fear. He wants them to know that no matter what, he can still get to them.” Hotch said and I felt a chill run up my spine.
Everyone was getting ready to get on the jet. I gathered my stuff up and headed to the jet early. I walked on and saw Hotch sitting there alone.
“Hey.” I said.
“Y/N, I’m glad you’re here. Sit.” He said motioning to the seat in front of him.
“I don’t want you to go on the case.” He said and my eyes widened.
“Hotch, I’m fine.” I said and he shook his head.
“No, you’re not. You are too involved with this case.” He said and I shook my head.
“This man is the reason I studied so hard for this job, I want to catch people like him and now I have the chance to catch this son of a bitch. Please don’t take that away from me.” I said and he started at me for a few minutes.
“He’ll try and come after you.” He said and I nodded.
“I know the risks, but Hotch I can promise you I’m okay. I’m not gonna let him scare me.” I said and he sighed.
“Fine, but you listen to what I tell you and don’t try and find him on your own.” He said and I nodded.
“I promise.” I said, although I knew I might not be able to keep it all that well. Hotch and Rossi were talking with the chief and JJ and Prentiss were interviewing the victims. Reid Morgan and I were sent to the latest crime scene.
“Does Vanessa smoke?” Spencer asked her husband.
“Yes, Vanessa smokes. What does it matter?” He asked.
“It might explain how the unsub is drugging these women.” Spencer said and my eyes widened slightly. Thank God I quit.
“The media has done a very good job of warning people to watch their drinks so that bars are no longer a fertile hunting ground, but cigarette smokers aren’t as careful. They might ask to have a cigarette from a stranger, or have their pack swapped out of their purse when they put it down and then unknowingly inhale PCP or scopolamine, both of which mimic the effects of date rape drugs.” Spencer rambled, it honestly was always so cute to me, but now wasn’t the time to be thinking that.
“She hid them in her purse. She didn’t think I knew. She cracked the windows so I wouldn’t smell it when I got home.” Mr. Campbell said.
“You know, if the unsub stalked her from the backyard, he’d have a good view when she lit up.” Spencer said.
“He also took out the window with something like a center punch.” Morgan said.
“What’s that?” Mr. Campbell asked.
“It’s a spring-loaded device used to punch divots into metal. It also breaks glass.” I explained as Spencer walked off towards the kitchen.
“No cigarettes. He must have taken them with him to hide the evidence.” Spencer said while looking through her purse.
“You know, it might not be all he’s trying to hide.” Morgan said.
“What do you mean?” I asked him.
“Mr. Campbell, was this on when you came home?” He asked.
“The police told me not to touch anything.” Mr. Campbell answered.
“Well, you sure got a lot of MP3s on here.” Morgan said scrolling through them.
“Was it playing one of them?” He asked.
“No. Why?” Mr. Campbell asked.
“The media center keeps a history of the last twenty songs that were played, but either you don’t listen to any of them or someone erased it.” I said catching on to what Morgan was thinking.
“It wasn’t me.” Mr. Campbell said.
“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan said, pulling out his phone.
“Whatcha need?” She answered.
“Hey, there’s an MP3 player in the Campbell house, can you tell me anything about the erased history?” Morgan asked.
“Okay, I can’t tell you who deleted that playback list, but I can tell you exactly when the log was cleared. 7:43 P.M..” She said.
“Why erase a history of someone else’s music?” Spencer asked.
“Because he didn’t erase someone else’s music. At 7:36, he loaned an MPS via USB drive, played it, and promptly deleted it.” She said, showing us on the Campbell’s T.V..
“Cleared the history so he could cover up his tracks.” She added.
“The unsub brought his own music to an abduction?” I asked confused.
“Yes, he did, and that is creepy. Fortunately, whatever is imported onto this computer downloaded the home network, so, ladies and gentlemen, the mystery song of Mr. Gruesome is…” She said and the music started playing. “That’s specific.” Spencer said.
“That’s another reason to call this guy the piano man.” Morgan said.
“Turn it off. Please.” Mr. Campbell said. Morgan turned it off.
“Does this song mean something to you or your wife?” Spencer asked.
“Vanessa hates it.” Mr. Campbell said and I gulped.
“How come?” Morgan asked.
“I don’t know. She doesn’t know. But every time it came on the radio, she’d burst into tears.” Mr. Campbell explained.
“So the unsub just happened to play it the night he came after her.” Morgan said.
We got back and JJ and Prentiss brought the woman back in to see if they had songs that triggered them too. All of us were in the room the local PD had set up for us and looked at all the songs these women now hated.
“Lady in Red, Up Where We Belong, Glory of Love. Each victim has her own piano ballad.” JJ said.
“You know, considering the survivors lose consciousness during the rape, we think this functions as the unsub’s signature. He most likely plays the songs repeatedly during the assault, resulting in pavlovian response when they heard it later, sort of a subconscious rape trigger.” Spencer said.
“The night of Vanessa Campbell’s abduction, that signature became part of his torture.” Rossi said. Hotch looked at me and I shook my head.
“We need to know.” He said and everyone looked at me.
“No.” I said.
“Know what?” Spencer asked confused.
“Y/N is one of the victims from the first time.” Hotch said.
“Hotch!” I said and I felt everyone looking at me in shock.
“So, what song is it?” He asked and I looked away from everyone.
“Endless Love…” I said.
“So, why these songs? What do they say about him?” Hotch asked, but before anyone could say anything more his phone rang.
“Go ahead, Morgan.” Hotch said.
“We just found Vanessa Campbell’s body. He didn’t even bother hiding it.” He said and my eyes widened.
“How long has she been dead?” Hotch asked.
“Maybe five hours.” He answered.
“He’s never killed before…” I said.
“Are we sure it’s our unsub?” Spencer asked, he was clearly worried.
“He used a piano wire as a garrote.” Morgan answered.
“Alright, Morgan, you come back here, I’ll go to the coroner's office once they’ve looked her over.” Hotch said and hung up.
“Keep working.” Hotch said and pulled me out of the room.
“You need to go back home now.” He said and I shook my head.
“I’m not going anywhere until he’s behind bars.” I said, standing my ground.
“Y/N this is serious, he’s getting more confident, you need to leave.” He said.
“Hotch is right Y/N.” Spencer said coming out of the room.
“I’ll give you two some time to talk.” Hotch said and went back into the room.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.
“Because I wanted to forget about it. Hotch is the only one that knew because of my psych eval.” I said not meeting his eyes.
“I can help you.” He said, gently touching my arms.
“Spence, there’s nothing to help. The only thing I need to do is to catch him.” I said. He gently guided my eyes to look at his.
“I understand, but this is dangerous for you, he could try and come after you now and what if he kills you? I can’t lose you…” He said with tears in his eyes.
“I promised Hotch I wouldn’t go looking for him alone and as hard as it is to keep that promise, I need to. Because if I ever see him again, I will kill him.” I said and Spencer’s eyes widened, but he saw the tears in my eyes.
“I can’t let him get away with this again.” I said and a tear slid down my cheek. Spencer pulled me to him and held me close.
“Just stay with me okay? I can tell Hotch that we need to stay together, I can protect you.” He said and I smiled.
“You know, I think that’ll be better for the both of us.” I said and he smiled back.
“I love you.” He whispered.
“I love you too, now let’s get back to doing our job.” I said, but he stopped me.
“There’s nothing I can do to convince you to go home?” He asked and I smiled slightly.
“You know there’s not.” I said and he sighed, but nodded.
We walked back in the room and Hotch said the three of us were going to the morgue. So we hopped in a car and headed there. They didn’t have too much to look over apparently.
“Tissue inflammation is consistent with inhalation of some sort of drug. I can’t tell what yet.” The doctor told us.
“And the ligature marks?” Hotch asked.
“Same as before. New wounds on top of old scars.” The doctor said holding up the hand and I felt myself reach for my own wrists.
“No sexual assault, though. Possibly because she regained consciousness at some point and fought back.” He added.
“She doesn’t show any signs of defensive wounds.” Spencer commented.
“No, but I did fish this out of her trachea.” The doctor said handing Spencer a bag.
“Neoprene?” I asked.
“From a glove. My best guess is she bit him.” The doctor said.
“Not enough to break the skin, unfortunately.” He added.
“An exam glove?” Hotch asked.
“Most likely.” The doctor answered.
“Actually, it’s a surgical glove. A little bit thicker than an exam glove. If he was wearing neoprene, it means he has an allergy to latex.” Spencer said.
“I’ll have Garcia check hospital records.” Hotch said and left the room.
“Thank you doctor.” I said and Spencer and I followed Hotch out.
When we got back to the PD Hotch told Spencer and I to take a little break. I objected at first, but he said it was an order so we took a walk around the block.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” I said grabbing Spencer’s hand.
“I understand why you didn’t.” He said.
“I can hear him still you know…” I said and he looked at me confused.
“What?” He asked.
“He sang the song, I remember his voice. I was new to smoking so I wasn’t used to it yet. I was out with some friends and I went to smoke alone, when I tasted it, it tasted off so I got rid of it, but I blacked out after. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I could hear that song and him singing it…” I admitted.
“We need to go back.” Spencer said and grabbed my hand. We ran back as fast as we could and we saw everyone sitting at a table.
“Hey you guys are back, we got a suspect.” JJ said and we looked at her confused.
“Y/N remembers his voice.” Spencer said and everyone’s eyes widened.
“Let’s go, Prentiss you try and get him to talk. Hotch said and the four of us walked towards the investigation room. Emily went inside and started playing to his fantasies.
“It’s not him.” I said.
“He’s definitely assaulted Dianna though.” Prentiss said.
“Arrest him for that, but he’s not the man that raped me.” I said and walked out of the room.
“How can Herman Scodie not be the piano man? We’ve got the medical gloves, the medical record he pulled.” Rossi asked. We were all gathered in the room, after Hotch had sent JJ, Spencer, and Morgan to go check his house anyway.
“The taunt he said to Diana Mitchell, he repeated to us.” Prentiss said.
“Well, Scobie definitely assaulted Diana the second time. He’s probably re-victimizing all of the survivors.” JJ said.
“But apply the profile to Herman Scobie, and look at what’s different. There’s no piano wire, and there’s no song played.” Morgan said.
“You think there are two unsubs, the piano man and a copycat?” Hotch asked.
“A copycat studies the original unsub in order to learn. Herman Scobie’s a doppelganger.” Spencer said.
“He’s trying to pass himself off as the piano man.” I said.
“Why?” Rossi asked.
“Convenience, maybe. If he assaults the piano man’s survivors, they’re less likely to reach out to the police.” Morgan said.
“And if they do, the women claim it was the piano man. No one thinks to look at hospital orderlies.” JJ added.
“So who killed Vanessa Campbell, the piano man or Scobie?” Hotch asked.
“It’s a lay-up. Same neoprene glove in her throat as we found in Scobie’s van.” Rossi answered.
“There’s something odd about that too, though. If Vanessa swallowed this it would be scarred by digestive acids. I mean, even if it got caught in her trachea as he choked her out, gastric reflux would be evident, but there isn’t any.” Spencer said.
“So the unsub placed that in her throat postmortem.” I said.
“Which unsub?” Prentiss asked.
“He used the piano wire, he played the song, it must be the piano man.” Morgan said.
“So he plants a piece of evidence to frame Scobie.” Rossi said.
“Okay, let me get this straight. The piano man is trying to convince us that Scobie is responsible for all of these crimes.” Prentiss said.
“And if these two have studied each other this closely, then Scobie is the key to finding the piano man.” Hotch said.
“His lawyer’s here. Scobie’s not gonna talk to us.” JJ said.
“He will when he finds out he’s been set up.” Hotch said.
“Let me talk to him.” I said and everyone looked at me.
“No way.” Hotch said.
“If he’s studied the piano man he’ll know who I am. He’ll want to talk to me.” I said and Spencer shook his head.
“No, we can’t let you do that.” He said.
“Fine. I’ll go in with you. That’s the only way.” Hotch said and I nodded.
“Hotch, you’re serious about this?” Spencer asked shocked.
“She’s right, if he knows who she is then it might put him on edge.” He answered.
“Let’s go.” He added and we walked inside. Herman and his lawyer looked up at us and I noticed Herman’s eyes flash with realization.
“My client has nothing to say.” His lawyer said.
“Good. We’d rather he listen anyway.” Hotch said.
“You’re going away fro rape. The question is whether you’ll let your competition hang Vanessa Campbell’s murder on you as well.” I said.
“I didn’t kill her.” Herman said.
“I didn’t even touch her.” He added.
“Herman.” His lawyer warned.
“From what you’ve told us, we know exactly what you think of these women.” Hotch said.
“You don’t need to kill them.” I said speaking as if I wasn’t one of them.
“They’re not worth that much effort to you.” I said and he never took his eyes off me.
“But the piano man can’t take that risk. When he’d heard what you’d done, he killed Vanessa Campbell.” Hotch said.
“He went back to an old victim, just like you, but then he places a piece of neoprene down her throat. Does that sound like an accident?” I asked and he glared at me.
“He’s setting you up.” I added.
“I need to discuss this with my client.” The lawyer said.
“No, he talks to us now, or he takes his chances with a jury.” Hotch said.
“What do you want to know?” Herman asked, eyes still never leaving mine.
“Who is he?” I asked and he smirked.
“You should know, I know who you are.” He said leaning forward towards me.
“His unknown victim. The one that didn’t report him.” He said.
“Who is he?” Hotch asked again.
“I never met him. I just read about what he did in the hospital records.” He said looking up at me.
“You were the only one that didn’t report him, but you came in with the same marks as those other women.” He said, looked at me again.
“The weird thing though, I had three chicks picked out to do next. I was gonna start with Vanessa, but… He got to her first.” Herman said.
“Who was the other ones?” Hotch asked.
“Regina Lampert and Y/N Y/L/N.” He answered.
“You’re going away for a long time.” I said and walked out of the room. Spencer grabbed me and pulled me to him.
“It’s okay.” He whispered and kissed my head. We all met in the room and tried calling Regina.
“Okay, guys, regina Lampert is not answering her phone, and I found something hinky on her, which I’m sending to your tablets.” Garcia said.
“Alright, Garcia, what are we looking at?” Hotch asked.
“It’s a surveillance video from the bar that Regina Lampert works at. Do you see the guy she’s talking to?” She asked.
“PLaying the piano. He’s taunting her.” Rossi said.
“She knows it too. Look at her body language.” Hotch said.
“Watch what happens when I fast-forward to closing time.” Garcia said and sped up the video.
“She seems to warm up to him.” I said.
“And then, watch this.” She said and the video changed to a different angle.
“Garcia, freeze it right there.” Hotch said.
“Look at her face. No, she doesn’t. She set herself up as bait.” Hotch said.
“Credit card says that the guy at the piano is Hamilton Bartholomew. This is what I know, his wife just filed a missing persons report on him this morning. She directed me to some job he just applied for, so I got a background check from that where they did his fingerprints.” She said.
“Alright, Garcia, pull Regina Lampert’s rape kit and cross-reference the prints found with Bartholomew’s, and see if you get a match. We need to get to her house.” Hotch said.
“Sending her address to your GPS.” She said and then we hung up. We all left to get to her house.
“Garcia, did she pick up?” Hotch asked, answering the phone.
“No, but we did just get a 911 call from her house, and it is freaking weird.” Garcia said and then started playing the call.
“911 operator. What’s your emergency?” A lady asked.
“Hello?” She asked when no one said anything.
“My name is Hamilton Bartholomew. I’m being held captive by a lunatic!” He said then a gunshot went off.
“She took the piano man captive?” Prentiss asked.
“Unless he’s not the piano man. I mean think about it. Would the piano man call us to rescue him?” Morgan asked.
“She could be shooting at the wrong guy.” Rossi said.
“No, it’s him.” I said.
“What?” Spencer asked.
“That’s his voice… I know it.” I said.
“The lab just confirmed, it’s him.” Prentiss said. We pulled up to the house and everyone got out.
“Y/N you stay out here, that’s an order.” Hotch said and I knew there was no fighting this on.
“As long as I’m the one that puts the cuffs on him.” I said and Hotch nodded. They went in and Spencer stayed out here with me. Hotch and Prentiss came out with both of them and Hotch handed him to me.
“Hamilton bartholomew, you’re under arrest for the rapes of thirteen women and the murder of Vanessa Campbell.” Hotch said and I put the cuffs on him.
“It’s you…” He said to me.
“I’m gonna make sure you stay in jail for the rest of your damn life.” I growled at him. Hotch took him from me and Spencer came up and held me tightly.
“Should have let her pull the trigger.” I said.
“Come on baby, let’s just go.” Spencer said and took me to the car.
“He’s never gonna see light again, you know that.” He said.
“But he’s still alive…” I said.
“And I’ll be here for you, whatever you need.” He said and held me close.
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15x01, a look at the future through the past
Back home! I watched the episode last night and rewatched it just now. I’m sorry to say that I was baseline bored on most levels but the second time through things felt better (yay!) even if the bland factor was still there for me personally (I’m bored with most ghost stuff from SPN these days). Imo the characters basically served the plot of 15x01 instead of the other way around which is very Game of Thrones-y and 1000% not what I’m here for but I won’t talk about the details of that because I’m sure no one wants to hear that and I’m also sure things won’t stay that way long so I’ll talk about some other things instead. There are some things I can tell are a thing but I don’t know exactly what the shows means in depicting them, and others where I’m more confident in my interpretation so here we go.
I’m like 99% sure the demon in Jack is actually Chuck and that he’s basically trying to maintain his torture (I mean... the guy admitted to being a torturer ffs) of the Winchesters with the best viewing seat possible as it were (he even tells Dean point blank he’s a “fan”). For some reason only Dean and Cas got the focus for this (torture) tho and not Sam. With Dean it was the demon reminding him of how dark and brutal Dean can be himself (via his time with Alastair). Dean blows that off pretty quick and isn’t too visibly effected, commenting that it was a long time ago. With Cas the torture came in the demon’s possession of Jack himself, Cas saying bluntly that he can’t even look at Jack and that demonic possession is basically defilement. Cas is clearly more effected and Dean’s harsh “Jack is DEAD!” tonally recalled S13 in many ways. Also oddly the demon admits Dean is gorgeous but not the same is said of Cas, with the demon insulting him instead. Two interactions. Two wildly different responses. It’s the demon putting Dean and Cas at odds without any interaction needed from them themselves, though the latter comes in spades and is the only focused on “true” conflict of the episode, set against soft Sam/Dean exchanges.
The blend of Cas’ angelic nature along with his human nature was also heavily, heavily highlighted in the episode. It was probably the most highlighted thing in fact. Cas smiting and healing. Cas shooting a gun and throwing rocks. Cas tells Dean he wouldn’t starve to death in the crypt (which, on a side note, has huge Buffy vibes for me, along with Belphogor (sp?) calling the Hell rip or whatever the “Hellmouth”). Cas can see the demon’s demonic face easily despite episodes like 14x01 (also written by Dabb) where he can’t see a room full of them (I think I argued back then that Cas was willingfully trying to ignore and was annoyed with his angelic nature). Cas’ angelic side gets another highlight when Sam accidentally shoots Cas and he doesn’t get truly injured. This particular scene seemingly serves no other purpose other than to highlight Cas’ difference (as non-human) in general. Emotionally tho, Cas’ human side is on full display. He’s worried about the town’s people. He’s annoyed with both Sam and Dean for different reasons at different points. Cas bodily removes the demon from sharing the same space as him because the demon upsets him. Cas can not even LOOK at “Jack” but Dean (and Sam) can. As I said, it’s similar structurally to how S13 handled Dean dealing with Cas’ death in comparison to Sam moving on from it. It functions to show that for Cas his relationship with Jack is different from Sam and Dean’s, however otherwise similar in the fact that TFW all see Jack as their child, their family. It’s exactly like how Cas is different to Dean as compared to Sam.
Back onto demon “B” whatever tho. Interestingly, we never see the demon smoke into Jack. Then he just “”happens”” to know every spell needed to help the Winchesters but for Dean and Cas two things are required for sacrifice/gathering. In each, one component is dead-like and protecting (salt, goofer dust) and the other channels life/creation (a heart and angel blood). Each time there’s a duality in play. Curiously Sam is not involved in any of this with the demon for whatever reason, making the demon (within the season’s structure as presented so far) a primary component of Dean and Cas’ differences. They are tests of free will for them specifically in a way. What will each person “freely” give/obtain for the demon? To me, it just all screams this thing/demon is really just God fucking with them in every way he can but while maintaining some ally aligned position physically. It’s Chuck’s literal MO.
Also. The show is back to Dean blanketly treating Cas like shit. Which we know happens in waves constantly but as a Cas fan it’s still annoying to watch for the umpteenth fucking time. And they haven’t even pinpointed the *exact* reason here for all the snapping (yeah, pacing, I know). The audience has to do some connecting the dots here I feel. They have to have a certain understanding of how Dean needs Cas. I *think* the takeaway is that Dean uses Cas as an emotional punching bag when he’s actually mad at himself and that instead of getting so angry with himself these days that Dean’s decided yelling at Cas is a better/healthier way for him to deal with himself. Which is absolutely unfair and devastating to Cas, but it’s what Cas (unfortunately) has become to Dean. It’s like when he told Cas he was dead to him at the end of S14 because of Jack killing Mary. Dean’s really mad at he, himself, for ignoring the warning that was always there. Not really Cas. But Dean has yet to apologize and/or rectify this. This is the (ongoing) problem for Dean and Cas. Point blank.
At this point if I was Cas I’d just leave and not come back. He doesn’t deserve the way Dean constantly treats him. Dean doesn’t “need” Cas like this but he’s become comfortable using him like this. This is so jarring from the understanding Dean shows Cas in late S12. And from the grief arc he has in S13, followed by the relief he shows when Cas returns. Dean never learns how to properly “claim” Cas, however. Looks like this time instead of killing Cas the show (like in S8) is gonna have Cas choose to stay away (after 15x03?) I guess, prompting Dean to do some reflecting or whatever following this (What is Cas to me? Why do I actually need him? How should I treat him?). But honestly I’m not thinking of the reflecting right now. Or the “after” or whatever. I’m just thinking about how shitty Cas is being treated RIGHT NOW and it 1000% makes me wanna just drop the show and not watch anymore until it’s over. I’m just not interested in torturing myself for months watching this slowly drag out but apparently I’m so masochistic and love Cas so fucking much that I will. GODDAMMIT
Onto “pipes” I guess. This is where I point out that I don’t know what the show is going for here but I’ll throw around some ideas. Pipes had a lot to do with the episode. Sam thinks he hears water flowing in a pipe in the crypt and they think they can escape through the sewers. Wrong. Later, Sam tells the sheriff that a pipeline burst near the town. Lies. And lastly there’s a plumbing truck outside the home where the clown ghost slaughtered the birthday party (uh... where’s the bodies btw?). So everywhere we have the imagery of pipes bursting and needing to be fixed. Which, water has nothing to do with Hell, not really. I guess the Hell “rip” is kinda acting like a burst pipe?? Water is usually associated with angels/Cas/change tho. My best guess is that it’s repurposed Michael imagery since good ol’ Bel-whatever let us know Michael’s cage door is busted open and he’s just sitting there for now apparently. I’m not confident in my interpretation here at all though. All I can tell is that busted pipes as imagery (something likely associated with lying/wrong) for something is a thing.
In general I’m going to say 15x01 didn’t even feel like a Dabb episode to me. I honestly wouldn’t have guessed he wrote it. Since I didn’t care about the random people under attack (women running and scared and not tougher is always a hard sell for me personally) I found myself frequently saying “why aren’t they doing _______?” a lot during the episode. Ghosts needing to run? Why? I mean, I get the show wanted to show how the magical border worked but this could have been done in many other more effective ways utilizing tension more. It almost felt like the show didn’t know what to do with its S1 self and so visually everything ended up looking so very incredibly cheesy and not just in the way the colors are no longer desaturated. It literally looks like the show can’t go back into what it was. We saw this visually with a sign that cropped up in several shots as Sam and Cas tried to get the girl and her mom to safety. It was a cul de sac sign.
Here’s a video on why cul de sacs as a design became popular. In short, following the rise in popularity of the automobile neighborhoods are designed for safe car use, above all else. They don’t want outsiders passing through and they want things to be slower. When cars got popular streets were redesigned away from the traditional city “grid” (where accidents happened at intersections most commonly) with features that instead had safety in mind. I choose to interpret this as a visual comment on the show’s design. The Sam n Dean show is like a city grid, dangerous, while the Sam, Dean, Cas, Rowena, and Jack show offers more “safety”. That’s why we get it framed like this imo, between Sam and Cas. Things looked one way before Cas, and another after. Things have changed from the grid and they aren’t going back, for a variety of reasons.
Since the episode title recalls the movie Back to the Future I thought we’d have more of a visual/dialogue tie in tbh. I’ll try to talk about what we thematically did tho. BTTF is a movie about a boy overcoming his impulsiveness to be an alpha male who isn’t scared. This wasn’t a goal of the boy himself necessarily but it was an effect had upon him just the same by the story and his experiences. The movie bookends on this character development. In between the movie is about the disconnect of generations, how kids don’t see their parents in the way they see themselves and vice versa. It’s also about trying to set right familial relationships into proper categories. Marty’s mom, Lorene, accidentally falls in love with her own son instead of Marty’s father, George. Marty’s existence is then threatened and he must spend the movie trying to understand his parents and help them fall properly in love, thus saving and changing himself and them. We only get shades of these themes in the episode, like when the demon (in Jack’s body) calls Dean gorgeous and it makes him uncomfortable. Divorce (unhappy marriage) is also touched upon with the sleepover/makeover girls. In BTTF Lorene and George do not have a great marriage as George lacks confidence but Marty’s interactions with George in the past help change this in the future and their family is much better for it.
We are told in PR that Dean’s “conditioning” and him changing from that is a big part of what SPN is and has always been about. This is similar to how Marty must learn to properly deal with bullies (as he sees his father as weak and overcompensates to distinguish himself from him) and not letting them have power over you. Chuck is like Biff in this structural comparison. Biff is someone we watch become depowered over the course of the movie and I feel this is similar to what the show will likely do regarding Chuck. I could go further in depth here but these are the general thematic points this episode alone addresses. Only with Marty’s character development does he stand to have a happy life with his girlfriend, Jennifer. Back to the Future ends with another call to adventure and its script is widely regarded as “perfect” by many. Quite the structural comparison for SPN to be making. We’ll see. We’re currently stuck in the past for now. Onward, to the future...
#spn speculation#15x01#zerbe discusses things#final themes#duality#alchemy#narrative structure#back to the future#pop culture references#destiel for ts#if you squint#cul de sac storytelling#the spiraling narrative of supernatural#spn criticism
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1x22: Devil’s Trap
The Road So Far:
Sam and Dean Winchester are hot on the trail of the thing that killed their mom. She’s dead though, and never coming back.
Now:
John Winchester is kidnapped by Meg and her fellow demons. They know where the brothers are and they know they have the Colt. Dean decides it’s in their best interest to get the hell out of Dodge Salvation. Sam wants to keep going, fighting for their dad. Dean needs a plan and everything else stops until they get their dad back. And WOW, like to this day Sam loves powering through the tough times and Dean’s emotions mess with how he thinks at times. Resigned to Dean’s plan, Sam asks how they’re going to find their dad. They need help.
*BOBBY ALERT*
The boys head to Bobby Singer’s Salvage Yard.
He’s an old friend of John’s (and a surrogate father to Sam and Dean, even if they don’t know it yet) and an expert in supernatural lore. He tells the brothers about how demon possessions are on the rise --and whatever storm that’s coming, Sam and Dean are right in the middle of it. HMMM. Chuck’s writer’s block just cleared it seems.
Meg shows up. She wants the Colt. Sam and Bobby start to slowly back away from her, further into Bobby’s house. Meg keeps talking and walking, until she ends up under a demon trap.
They tie her up during the commercial break. Dean asks where John is. Meg sasses back so Dean calls her a bitch and I continue to recoil at early seasons’ misogyny. Meg tells Dean that she killed John. Dean can’t process that potential reality so he punches her. Bobby points out that Meg is a demon possessing “a girl”, and I continue to recoil at the word “girl” when she’s clearly over the age of 12.
They decide to exorcise the demon from the woman. Sam starts reciting the exorcism (and he has to read them, sweet bby).
Dean continues to interrogate Meg about where John is. She tells him of the gruesome way she killed him. Meg eventually gives up the location of where they’re holding John, but doesn’t know anything about the Yellow Eyed Demon.
Dean tells Sam to finish the exorcism. Sam wants to keep using Meg for their plan. Bobby says they’ll kill the girl inside her if they do it. (And I’m like, uh Bobby, you really think letting Meg possess her is better than death??) Dean wins and Sam finishes the exorcism.
Meg, the woman, is still alive. Dean instructs Bobby to call 911 (WHAT?). She’s broken and dying. Before she dies, she tells the brothers where to find John.
Bobby sends the boys on their way in search of John.
On the road, Sam, so into his research and not having a decent tablet to work on, starts defacing Dean’s car. He’s drawing a couple devil’s traps to keep the Colt safe in the trunk.
Dean wants to bring the gun to help with springing John from the demons. Sam argues that John would be pissed that they used the Colt to find him. Sam wins and they leave the Colt behind.
They find the place where the demons are holding John and realize that demons could be possessing any of the humans around. They can’t kill the humans AND the demons know what Sam and Dean look like. “This sucks out loud.” Dean suggests they pull the fire alarm to remove all the civilians. They’ll have seven minutes before the police respond.
Sam does his best to skulk suspiciously into the building.
As soon as the coast is clear, he pulls the fire alarm in the lobby. Inside an apartment, a creepy couple look around intently then head into the bedroom where they’ve strapped John Winchester spread-eagle-style. Kinky? ((Grimacing face))
Outside, Dean does his best to distract firefighters from Skulking Sam, who’s pulling yet another wacky prank. “I’ve got a yorkie upstairs and he pees when he’s nervous!” Dean whines. Dean, I am LIVING. Sam picks the lock on the firetruck and steals two fire-proof suits and full face masks. As they walk through the building, Dean reveals that he always wanted to be a fireman and, to be perfectly honest, I now die a little inside. My soul is a weeping storm cloud! (Send me all your firefighter Dean/Cas AUs. I’ll wait!)
They track the demons via EMF and get the creepy couple to open the door. It’s fighting time! Our guys use their water tanks and fists to handily trap the satanic suburbanites behind a door. A little salt circle and they’ve got ‘em trapped. They find John, who’s unconscious on the bed. Sam stops Dean from untying him right away. Thoroughly his father’s son, Sam does the holy water test on John before freeing him. He’s clean!
Outside, an onlooker is suddenly possessed by a demon and rapidly after that, one of the firefighters. Yeah. It’s season one. We’re just learning about demons so there’s no flashy flashy smoky smoky. It’s just a gentle stroke and….POSSESSED.
The demons head inside. Time for fight number two!
Not if the Winchesters can help it, though. They leave via the fire escape and make it down to the sidewalk. Another demon heads in for the assault, beating the crap out of poor Sammy’s concussion-prone head. Dean shoots the demon, whose head sparks… The demon dies. After all, a shot from the Colt is fatal. The camera takes a moment to really mourn the human who has just died (which is honestly something I miss before we went all stabby stabby knifey knifey).
Somehow, they all manage to drag themselves to the Impala and out to a safe house. Salt is poured. Probably some alcohol too, let’s be honest.
Sam admits that Dean saved him, and Dean snarkily comments on how it’s a good thing he brought the Colt after all. (Hey guys, remember that time when Dean brought the First Blade on a job without Sam’s knowledge? I love patterns.)
Dean’s somber. He’s still thinking about the demon he shot - the man he shot. He tells Sam that he’s not bothered by killing the otherwise innocent demon-possessed man. Rather, it’s helped him to realize, “For you or dad - the things that I’m willing to do. Kill. It scares me sometimes.”
John appears and praises Dean, telling him that he made the right call. “You’re not mad? I used a bullet,” Dean points out, looking thoroughly unsettled.
“I’m proud of you,” John says. Dean quietly - oh so quietly - thanks him. Suddenly the lights flicker. John rushes to the window and announces that the demon has arrived. He sends Sam to recheck salt lines and demands the Colt from Dean.
Dean looks at the gun and resolve settles on his face. Slowly, he backs away. “He’d be furious,” Dean says, “that I wasted a bullet.” He points the gun at John. “You’re not my dad.”
Dean tells John (Demon John) that he knows his dad well. And validation isn’t part of the package. When Sam bursts in, Dean tries to explain that John’s “different” now. Please, join Boris and I in this quilt huddle so we can gnash our teeth and think about Dean’s low self image and cracked father-son relationship which helped him realize almost immediately that it wasn’t his father giving him compliments. Let us collect our tears in tiny, artisanal bowls together, then dry that saltwater and sweep up the salt to make Moste Potente Demon Trappes™.
Sam looks between John and Dean and when pressed, chooses Dean’s side. John tells them to shoot him and it is VERY EMOTIONAL UP IN DEAN’S FACE.
And I’m fine with it. Completely fine. No emotions up in here.
John turns on a dime, descending into mockery before he demon-hurls them across the room.
The gun falls to the ground and Demon John picks it up. His eyes glow YELLOW. Sam wonders why holy water didn’t tip them off but Yellow Eyes says it has no effect on him. (But come on, it doesn’t even...tickle?) Yellow Eyes tells Sam that he should use his psychic powers to float the gun to himself. (SOLID plan!) Sam does not float any guns.
Yellow Eyes strolls up to Dean. He tells him that Dean killed his children via exorcism and bullet. (I have to remind myself that Dean and Sam know jack shit about demons at this point, and they don’t know that Meg swirled down to Hell for an iced coffee before heading back topside.) Yellow Eyes then shifts to Sam, taunting him about the death of their mom and Jess. “They were in the way” of his glorious plans for poor Sam.
Dean snarks and Yellow Eyes shifts his attention once again. “You fight and fight for this family but the truth is they don’t need you. Not like you need them.” DEAN BEAN don’t listen to him!
Dean taunts Yellow Eyes about his fallen children. As a reward, Yellow Eyes mind-slices into Dean. Blood pours from Dean in rivulets and he begs, “Dad, don’t you let him kill me.”
I AM EXPERIENCING EMOTIONS! (I used to rewatch this episode way more than was likely healthy.)
Dean starts to slump over, losing consciousness, when John takes control momentarily. It’s enough to stop the bloody torture, and gives Sam the split second he needs to lunge for the Colt. He grabs it and shoots John in the leg.
John wakes up. He’s unseated Yellow Eyes for the moment, and begs Sam to kill him. Sam lifts the gun. John begs for an end to the demon, consequences be damned. Dean begs Sam to spare John. Sam, torn between them again, makes a choice. He drops the gun.
Yellow Eyes smokes out of John and sinks into the floorboards, leaving John free and clear. And steaming mad.
They’ve managed to haul themselves into the Impala. Sam’s driving. Dean’s in the backseat, barely conscious. John berates Sam for sparing his life, but Sam’s hopeful. They’ve got the Colt. They’ve got one bullet. They tracked down Yellow Eyes once and gosh darn it, they can do it again!
Then…
THEN
WHAM! Out of nowhere, a semi truck crashes into the side of the Impala. In the light of the headlights, we see all three Winchesters unconscious and bloody.
And then fade to black. See ya next season.
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The Mystical Quotes Gun Solves Everything:
“Last time we saw you, you did threaten to blast him through with buckshot. You cocked the shotgun and everything.” “Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people.”
You get a demon in - they’re trapped. Powerless. It’s like a Satanic roach motel.
You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask.
______________________________
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At the Heart of Darkness (9/11)
Hello, hello! I almost forgot that today was Thursday - I started at a new job! Anyway, you don't care. Thank you for your continued interest in this fic. I love reading your tags. I appreciate all the support!!
Thank you Mods of @captainswanbigbang for being chill about a lot of stuff and for being so freaking organised.
@sambethe was so great throughout. Thank you, for the banner and the artwork for chapter 2 and chapter 5. And for being a third set of eyes on this fic! @downeystarkjr I still can't get over how great your videos are, both the teaser and the longer one. Please go to their tumblrs and check their hard work out!!
@accio-ambition, thank you for being so sweet and for finding the time to edit this despite how busy you were. Ily.
Also, special mention to @peglegsjones whose portrayal of the Dark One in her fic Alone, until I get home inspired me and the way I chose to write the Darkness.
omg we're almost at the end!!!!
Summary: Killian Jones lives in the Land without Magic, with no memories of his family. Until Emma Swan comes into his life like a whirlwind, reminding about everything he had lost. He embarks on an adventure to destroy the Darkness, only to discover that Emma might not be telling him the whole story.
Rating: M
Content Warning: Mentions of Miscarriage, Angst, Gothel (Please heed the Gothel warning, ugh God, she sucks)
Prologue: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 1: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 2: tumblrao3ff.net | Chapter 3: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 4: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 5: tumblr ao3ff.net | Chapter 6: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 7: tumblr ao3 ff.net
Current Chapter: ao3 ff.net
Chapter 8: Don’t bother writing (I’m gone)
Present Day: Enchanted Forest
“What did Emma tell you again?” Killian asked, taking leaping steps just to keep pace with his daughter’s rapid steps.
“That the Dagger was with an old friend. There is only one person Mama would give it to,” Alice replied, trying to hurry as much as she could.
“Someone she trusted the most?” Killian guessed. But as far as he knew, Emma hardly trusted anybody, let alone enough to entrust his dagger to them.
“Nu-uh, that would be the first person anyone would torture. She gave it to Ariel, Queen of the Water Realms. She can travel between the realms anytime she wanted, and could make a quick getaway.”
Killian knew Ariel; they had been something like friends at some point, despite the animosity between pirates and mermaids. “Ah. She’s a nice lass. How are you going to contact her though?” he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.
Alice huffed, stopping in her tracks, pulling a seashell necklace from around her neck. “Using this. I have already sent her message via shell. She should be waiting for us, we must hurry. Now, stop asking questions and follow me!”
Killian frowned, a reprimand ready on his tongue. But he realised with a pang that she was not a little girl anymore; she had been right to take that tone. Emma and Alice had a plan in place and he needed to respect that she knew what she was doing. They had only a small lead, with Gothel being occupied with Emma. She would come after them soon if she realised that they had the Dagger. So far, the only person Gothel thought knew about the Dagger was in her custody. And they had to maintain the ruse for as long as they could.
It took them a few hours, but Alice and Killian finally managed to break through the treeline and onto the short beach. Alice looked around frantically, vibrating on the spot like she was ready to explode. Killian might not know much about this version of his daughter, but her anxiety was not anything new.
“Starfish, Ariel will be here. It will be fine,” he said in a soothing, slow tone, grabbing Alice softly by the shoulders and making her look at him. “Deep breaths, sweetheart. That’s it, just concentrate on your breathing.” He did the breathing exercise along with her, until he felt she had calmed down enough.
Alice sighed, rubbing at her forehead. “Why would Mama do that?!” she exclaimed. “I never should have let her.”
Killian chuckled, despite the situation they were in. “Love, I’ve come to realise that once your mother has set her mind on something, it is neigh on impossible to change her mind. Besides, in her place, I would have done the same thing.” He let out a long breath, his hand and hook resting on his hips. “That does not mean I condone what she did.”
“That’s exactly what you did. Actually, what you did was a million times worse.” Alice’s tone might have been matter-of-fact, but her words hit him in the gut. He had had the chance to apologise to Emma, but he hardly even said goodbye to his little girl before he left her.
“Starfish, I’m so sorry. I-” But Alice held up her hand to half him mid-sentence.
“It’s alright, Papa. I mean, it’s not alright, but it is for now. We will have time for apologies and regret after we get rid of the Darkness and save Mama.”
“That is exactly what your mother said.” He was in awe of the young woman in front of him, and he owed it all to Emma. She was the one who had raised Alice into a smart, brilliant young woman. He couldn’t have done a better job; there would always be a part of him that loathed himself for missing out on the chance to be a good father. And unwittingly, he had lost that chance again because of what had happened with Charles.
He was saved from the dark direction his thoughts were taking by Ariel’s timely arrival. His joy was short lived, though, because the moment he stepped closer to Ariel, the voices in his head grew louder, the Darkness calling out to him, telling him to take his Dagger and run away. To protect himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, staying rooted in place and watched as Alice greeted the mermaid and exchanged pleasantries that he was too far away to hear, and too consumed by the sudden urge to hunt Gothel down.
He lost track of how long he had stood in one place, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to block his ears against the assault of the Darkness. He realised that he had been in control for so long because the Dagger was in another realm. It was a hundred times harder now to quell the voices in his head. He was forced out of his catatonic state by Alice dumping a bucket of cold water over his head. He started at her, dripping with salt water as she stood above him, panting slightly and the now empty bucket still held aloft.
“Th-ank you,” he sputtered out, pushing his hair from his face, and standing up properly. “I apologise, Starfish. I don’t know what got over me.”
Alice nodded, dropping the bucket next to him and taking a seat. She patted the spot next to her, but he could still hear the dull echoes of the Dagger and chose to stand instead. “Was it the Darkness?” she asked softly.
He hesitated to answer her for a very long time, but finally relented, letting out a giant sigh. “Aye.”
“It’s the Dagger.” It was more of statement than a question, and Killian was unsure what he could reply to that. Alice nodded to herself, staring at the horizon for a long time, both of them in somewhat comfortable silence.
“D’you know I hate magic?” she asked, but he had a feeling it was rhetorical, and allowed her to talk. “I do. Magic is what trapped me in that tower, magic is what took you away from me. Magic is what caused Emma and I so much pain in our lives. I could never understand why Mama loved it so much, even after all that had happened. She even wanted me to learn, harness my own magic. But she always understood. She even stopped using magic for me. She’s- She my mother in every single way. Not just in the way that counts. I actively reject Gothel as my mother.” The last part was said with such vehemence, so completely different from the tone she had adopted for the rest that it startled Killian.
He finally took a seat next to Alice, while still maintaining enough distance from the Dagger. “Darling, I realise that I have not been the best father. I know that Emma has made sure that you do not have to suffer the same fate as we both did as children. You are right, she truly is your mother in every single way, and I have just treated her so terribly. I have treated you terribly. How do we get past that? I don't have the answer to that question, I don't have the answer to so many things. I just feel so lost, I feel so miserable and ashamed. So tell me, what do I do?”
Alice sighed heavily, resting her chin on her bent knees, and just stared at the horizon. Killian waited with bated breath for a moment, before deciding that he would not be getting a reply from her. But just as he was about to get up, Alice finally responded. “You don't do anything, Papa. You just need to give her time, give me time, and be there for us. We will get past it because we are family, and family means we never stop trying.” She got up, giving him a hand and pulling him up, dusting the sand from her dress. Killian nodded at her, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. This might not have been forgiveness, but Alice’s words gave him hope. She hesitated, as if she was contemplating saying something. “I love you, Papa. Even when I feel like I should hate you. I love you, because you’re my Papa, and because you’re here now.”
Killian swallowed thickly at the lump in his throat, wordlessly accepting the olive branch she had offered. “Let’s go, love. We have quite the journey to Camelot.”
She reached into Emma’s satchel, retrieving a leather cuff from it and handing it to him.
“I don’t think that’s my style, Starfish,” he chuckled. Regardless, he took the cuff from her, examining it. As far as leather cuffs went, it was fairly routine, nothing that stood out to him about the craftsmanship or the quality.
“It suppresses magic,” Alice explained. “In case you lose control,” she added.
Killian’s jaw clenched, the Darkness in him hissing at her insinuation. It scared him, how quickly his darker impulses came to the fore. The fear of doing something to harm his daughter was enough for him to place the cuff on immediately.
If Alice noticed the haste in which he put it on, she did not comment on it.
-/-
20 years ago: Enchanted Forest
Killian could feel every cell of his body corrupted by the black sludge of the Darkness, burning him from the inside out. All the pain and heartbreak that he had gone through amplified until his heart was nearly bursting from the agony, so much so that all he wanted to do was rip his heart from his chest and cut off his feelings all together. He felt unbelievably violated, the Darkness had taken over his body. He could feel the muck and grime settle in every crevice of his soul.
And when he emerged from his transformation, the Darkness had taken over so entirely - he felt born again, no longer restricted by the whims and restrictions of human existence. He felt the immensity of power at his disposal. He was Captain Hook once again. His lips spread into a wild grin - he had a blonde beauty to thank for liberating him.
Little did he know that Killian Jones was trapped, but alive, under the layers of rotten, filthy darkness.
-/-
Emma teleported herself back to the tower, making both Smee and Alice jump in fright. She couldn’t blame them; she did practically stumble in like a deranged maniac, frantically yelling at Smee to “Leave, now!” Alice backed away from Emma, her eyes wide and blue, fear crystal clear in them. Emma sucked in a deep breath, if only to not frighten Alice any more than she already had.
She quickly relayed what had happened to Smee, promising to tell him the whole story after she had made sure Killian was fine. She hurriedly packed a sack for Alice, carelessly throwing together outfits for her. But she had not been fast enough. When she rounded the corner from Alice’s space into the main room, a silent and docile Alice in tow, Killian was waiting for them, leaning casually against the window ledge. He looked up at that exact moment, a predatory grin on his face as he stalked towards them
Emma stopped dead in her tracks, pushing Alice behind her, the only defense between the child and the Dark One. Because the thing in front of her now was not the man she loved. This was not Killian, and frankly, she was afraid to find out who he was.
Killian stopped just in front of her, his head tilted to the side in a disapproving manner, lips in a slight pout.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He crouched in front of Emma, his gaze shifting to Alice who was hiding behind her, her grip tightening on Emma’s trouser’s leg. “It’s me, Starfish,” he crooned, his predatory look shifting into something far more soft.
“Papa?” Alice sounded scared, tentative. Emma saw Killian’s jaw clench and he glared up at Emma, as if she was the one at fault for Alice fearing him. Emma met his gaze fearlessly.
He was the first one to look away, all of his attention focused on Alice. “Aye, my love. Are you ready to get out of here?”
“Really?” the child asked, a slight edge to her tone, almost like she was afraid to be hopeful.
“Aye, Starfish. Papa found a way. Told you I would, didn’t I?” he grinned, reaching past Emma and taking a willing Alice into his arms, balancing her on his hip. He turned to Emma, his electric blue eyes fixed on hers.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked in an unexpectedly soft tone.
Emma was afraid for him. She was scared about what the Darkness was doing to him, his mood all over the place, unreadable to her. But she did not fear him. But she knew, she could bring her Killian back. She stepped forward, tentatively brushing her knuckles over his cheek, her magic sparking, triggered by the Darkness in him. He then closed his eyes at her soft touch, his entire countenance losing the air of a man with great power. When his eyes opened, they were back to the cerulean of Killian Jones. She smiled.
“I could never be afraid of you. I’m afraid for you, my love,” she confessed, her eyes shifting to Alice, who had her head resting against her father’s shoulder, her thumb in her mouth. She only did that when she was most distressed.
-/-
Killian nodded in acceptance. He grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, and pulled her closer, enveloping his girls in his arms. Once he was certain that they would be shielded properly, he expelled a blast of magic, strong enough to break any spell. He wanted to get the Dark One to free his daughter, and one way or another, that was what he did. The tower started disintegrating around them, and once he felt the spell keeping Alice trapped break, he magically transported all of them to a safer location.
His feet hit the ground hard, jostling the little girl in his arms, while Emma managed to land quite gracefully on her feet. Both the adults turned their gaze on Alice, who looked around her in awe. She was truly outside the tower for the very first time. She squirmed in Killian’s hold, forcing him to let her go. And he hesitated for just a moment, concerned about her exploring too far. But Alice remained by their side, walking around and touching each tree, plant, and rock, gasping each time.
He had been enraged at Emma in the beginning; if it weren’t for her insistence that he grab the Dagger, he would have escaped this curse. But it was only because of the Darkness that he had been able to save his daughter. That couldn’t have been a bad thing, could it? He watched with amusement as his daughter explored the area around her, keeping up a constant chatter.
He chanced a glance at Emma, who was standing on the other side of the clearing they were in, but she was already looking at him with a strange expression. But she smiled at him when she noticed him looking. Odd, she looked almost contemplative.
Emma walked up to him, her hands behind her back. “I have something for you.” She looked serious, confusing him further.
“What is it, Swan?”
“Something that belongs to you,” She brought her hands forward, revealing the Dark One’s Dagger.
The Darkness flared up, screaming at him to possess it, to never let it out of his sight. With the Dagger in his hands, he could do anything he wanted. He reached for it, his hand trembling, but Emma stopped him just before he could touch it.
“Wait. Wait, we need to talk about this.”
“About what?” he growled, not able to take his eyes off of the Dagger.
“You seem different, Killian. You’re not you. Maybe I should just hold on to the Dagger for you,” she suggested. “I am just wo--”
Whatever the rest of her sentence was, Killian could not hear her over how loud the voice in his head was.
How dare she? The Darkness screamed inside his head. It’s yours to take. She is trying to control you. Is that what you want?
“Shut up! Just shut up.” He meant to snap at the voice in his head, but Emma jumped at his harsh tone, hurt flashing in her eyes.
“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered, dropping the Dagger and backing away. “I’m going to go, and um, find us some food.” Emma walked away from the clearing and toward the dirt road that led to the village. He watched as she glanced at Alice, hesitated, and then kept walking. His gut clenched: he scared her.
What if she was running away from him?
He took and Dagger and placed it in his jacket. He grabbed Alice, despite her protests against being dragged away from turtles, and followed after Emma. Alice continued to cry, beating on his back to let her down, but as much as it pained him, he needed to find Emma, and reassure her. It was just a misunderstanding; everything would be alright.
-/-
Present day: Enchanted Forest
Emma struggled against the magical shackles Gothel had her bound in, but it was in vain. Her binds were too tight. Her wrists painfully rubbed against them when she tried to wriggle her hand out.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you after me?” she spat out at Gothel.
Gothel ignored her, rummaging through the myriad of bottles on the table opposite, her back turned to Emma. A couple of moments passed and Emma started to sweat in the humid room. Gothel had restrained her in the woods and used magic to transport them both. The place resembled the mines, except instead of stone, the walls were made of soil. So it was damp, but still very hot.
Gothel let out a triumphant shout, finally having found what she had been looking for. She moved to face Emma, dangling a small vial at her. “Do you recognise this?”
“Should I?” Emma sassed, glaring at the witch.
“It’s something I made, just for you. It’s mostly sulphur.”
“Aw, you shouldn’t have.”
Gothel ignored Emma’s cheekiness. “Actually, I did use it on you once. Do you remember that?”
Emma glared at her, her heart raced simply remembering the pain Gothel’s poison had caused. But Gothel continued, observing Emma with curiosity. “It was meant to corrupt you; that was what the sulphur was meant for. It destroys light magic from within. You should have never been able to survive that.” She crouched in front of Emma, her head tilted to one side, her cold eyes staring at her unblinkingly, unnerving her. “I wondered, how you managed to stay so young over the years. I always assumed you used a glamour spell or a potion. It was only when I realised that my potion did not work that I started understanding what was really going on.”
Gothel smirked at her. Emma knew her panic was clear by her expression. “You have a part of the Darkness in you, Princess,” Gothel whispered gleefully. “My dark magic is no match for that, I know that now. I’m sure you’re suffering enough as it is. You wouldn’t survive losing your magic - you can’t live without it and you can’t live with it.”
Emma couldn’t understand how the witch had figured out her secret. She had been so certain that no one knew about it - not even Alice. It had taken a couple of years for Emma herself to even realise and understand. When Killian had linked the two of them together, some of the Darkness from him transferred to her. Emma assumed that the dark magic she had been sensing had been through the link belonged to Killian. But it was the dark magic in her own veins. Her magic was corrupted, both light and dark a part of each other. It had only become worse over the past 20 years.
Emma had not revealed this part of the plan to Killian for this reason - once they destroyed the Darkness, it would destroy her magic as well. It had been made pretty clear what would happen to her without her magic. She couldn’t bring herself to tell her daughter and her love that she would not survive this. That there was no happily ever after for her.
-/-
20 years ago: Enchanted Forest
Emma heard Alice’s cries before she heard Killian calling her name. She whirled around, startled to see the latter run up to her, holding a crying Alice in his arms.
“Swan,” he breathed, stopping a few feet away from her.
“What’s wrong with Alice?” she asked, stepping forward and taking the crying child into her arms, rubbing her hand over Alice’s back to comfort her. Alice wrapped her arms tightly around Emma’s neck, her cries muffled on Emma’s shoulder.
Killian looked helpless, like he was on the verge of crying himself. He sank to the ground, sitting slumped against a tree, running his hands through his hair, pulling at it painfully. It hurt Emma to see him in such a condition, but she was clueless to help him.
“I think I frightened her. I just- I needed to come after you. I needed to stop you, Swan,” he said after a long while, desperation dripping from his voice.
Alice’s cries had died down by then, and she had drifted off, slumped against Emma. She did not blame her; Alice had had a very eventful evening and it must have been too frightening and confusing for a six-year-old to handle, no matter how intuitive she was.
“Stop me from what, Killian?” Emma snapped, her voice coming out in harsh whisper. “You yelled at me to ‘Shut up.’ I thought you needed a moment to calm yourself.”
“I do not need to calm myself. I’m fine,” he bit out through clenched teeth.
“No, you are not. This is not who you are - flying tempers, making Alice cry? That is the Darkness. You are losing control. We need to get rid of it.”
He rose up, his eyes narrowed, and he looked at Emma contemplatively. “Oh, is that why you held on to my dagger? So you can ensure I don’t ‘lose control?’ You want to control me, is that it?”
“Of course not!” Emma protested. She switched Alice to her hip, leaving one hand free. She did not want to, but if it came down to it, she had to protect herself and Alice against the Darkness. Even if it meant she had to harm him. “Killian, this is not you.”
“No, Emma. This is better,” he argued, keeping his voice down. Emma was relieved that he did not wake Alice up: she did not want the little girl to see her father this way. “I was finally able to get my daughter out of that hell. The only way I was able to do that was with magic. My magic. Not yours.”
Emma reeled at that, feeling like she had been slapped. “I offered to use my magic. I would have done anything for Alice, you know that!”
But Killian ignored her, powering through his own speech. “You told me to grab the Dagger, Swan. You forced this on me, and now that I actually seem to like it, you just can’t handle it.” He wagged a finger at her, grinning like a maniac. “That’s it, isn’t it, love? You can’t handle the fact that I’m stronger than you. That I don’t need your magic.”
Emma bit her lip, her heart clenching at his accusations, trying to convince herself that it was the Darkness making him say these things. He wanted to hurt her, but she couldn’t give him that satisfaction.
“You and I both know that that’s not true. We are a family. It doesn’t matter who is more powerful.”
“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong, Swan. All this time, you had me convinced that I needed you, that I needed your magic to save my daughter, when in fact, I didn’t need you at all. Maybe you knew all along what needed to be done. You were just afraid that you would be left alone again, forever the orphan Princess.”
Tears came unbidden to Emma, every word coming out of Killian’s mouth hitting the mark. She pulled Alice closer, drawing comfort from her daughter.
“That is not fair. You’re not thinking straight,” she said quietly. Whether she was trying to convince Killian or herself, she wasn’t sure. Her hand trembled as she reached for his, the dark magic sizzling under his fingertips. “This is not you. This is not the man I love.”
“Perhaps the man you love is no more,” he whispered, his eyes looking away from her, unable to meet her gaze.
Emma was rendered speechless. She was not sure what she could possibly do to bring her Killian back to her.
“I refuse to believe that,” she said with conviction, drawing his attention back to her. “I love you, Killian Jones. Whether the Darkness likes it or not, I am not leaving.” She grew more confident when he seemed to listen, drawing closer to him, her hand drawing up his arm and resting against his chest. “I know your heart, I know you’re still there. Push the voices away. It’s just the three of us here - you, me, and Alice.��
Killian let out a deep breath, stepping away from her, Emma’s hand dropping. “I don’t know what’s happening, Swan,” he confessed, biting down hard at his lip. He squeezed his eyes shut, massaging his forehead.
Emma looked on, worried and helpless, wondering what she could possibly do to help her fiancé. “Talk to me, tell me what is going on inside your head. Lean on me.”
Killian nodded, pulling her closer. He hesitated, before holding his arms out to take his daughter, and letting out a relieved breath when Emma handed her over. He held Alice close, centering himself.
“I apologise for the things I said to you, Emma. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Emma nodded, wordlessly accepting his apology. But she had to know. ”Did you mean any of it? Do you really think- do you think that I kept things from you? That I tricked you into falling in love with me?” Her questions slipped out one after another, her insecurity rearing its ugly head.
Killian immediately pulled back, his hook resting on her waist. “No, absolutely not! I was- They were senseless words said in spite, my love. I was being an arse, and I’m sorry.” A beat later, he added, “I never meant for those words to come out, Emma. It- I was just so angry, I was hurt. And in that moment, I wanted to hurt you, like you hurt me.”
Emma swallowed thickly, not allowing him to notice the fear she felt building inside, painting a smile on her face instead. “It was the Darkness, Killian. It wasn’t you. I’ve seen this before, I’ve seen the way it corrupts and destroys. We need to get rid of it, once and for all.”
-/-
Present day: Camelot
It had taken Killian and Alice a week to reach Camelot by foot. He couldn’t use his magic, and Alice had never tried using hers. While it had given them plenty of time to talk and for Killian to get to know his daughter again, each day was agonising as they both feared for Emma’s life. Neither of them could understand why Gothel would want Emma, but the longer it took them to get rid of the Darkness, the worse their imaginations became. It had come to a point where neither of them spoke about what was happening to Emma; once again, she had sacrificed herself for Killian and Alice. Talking about it did nothing to relieve their guilt.
“Have you met this Merlin fellow before?” Killian asked, turning to Alice.
“Well, sort of. A very long time ago, we heard a rumour of an ancient sorcerer who could destroy the Darkness. But after a couple of months of research, we grew tired. It had been ten years at that point, I think, since you had been gone. It was a difficult year, for Mama. I was a hellion during my late adolescence,” Alice said, making Killian chuckle.
Another good thing about the time he had spent with Alice? He was slowly beginning to let go of his guilt and enjoy learning new tidbits of information about his daughter’s life.
“I’m sure if anyone could have handled it, Emma could have.”
“You’re not wrong. But that did deter her from looking for a way to get rid of the Darkness. Perhaps, if we had kept looking, we could have been reunited sooner.” Alice shot him a tight smile, before looking down, remorseful.
Killian couldn’t have his daughter blaming herself in any way. He stopped her, grasping her shoulders with hand and hook, waiting patiently for her to meet his eye. “Listen to me, Starfish. You have nothing to feel upset about. Things happened the way they were bound to happen. Emma made a decision to be a mother first. If I were in her place, I would have done the same thing.”
Alice shook her head, pushing Killian away, her arms crossed petulantly. “This is all my fault. This started because you wanted to rescue me from that tower. Maybe I was better off-”
“No!” Killian snapped, making Alice jump. He wouldn’t blame her; even when she had been a child, he had never raised his voice at her, let alone as an adult. “You need to stop blaming yourself. That is far too heavy a burden to carry on your shoulders, love. Gothel trapped you in that tower, and nothing you could have said or done would have stopped either me or Emma from saving you. You’re our daughter - and that is what you do for your family, Alice. So, don’t you dare think we would be better off. You saved me from a life of a pointless pursuit for revenge, you were there for Emma all those years I was gone. I probably never would have met Emma if it weren’t for you. I owe everything to you, my darling.” He smiled, drawing her into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head. “Enough with such talk. Let us get to Merlin.”
Another fifteen minutes of walking led father and daughter to a dilapidated bridge, both of them looking around concerned and confused. The more they ventured into Camelot, the more they were starting to realise that there was no one there; everything in Camelot seemed to be broken down, vines and shrubbery overgrown on the buildings. Everything looked abandoned, not like the thriving city Killian had come to expect.
“Are you sure this is the right place, Starfish?” Killian asked, helping her over a large, fallen pillar.
“Aye,” she said, jumping to the ground with a grunt. “At least, I think so. This is Camelot.”
“And this is where Merlin is supposed to be?” Killian asked with a scoff. “It looks like he hasn’t been here for a while.”
“Looks can be deceptive, Captain Jones,” a man’s voice spoke from behind them.
Killian and Alice whirled around, both of them drawing their cutlasses out and pointed them at the man’s throat. He seemed oddly calm, smiling at them despite the threat. Killian regarded him curiously: he was dressed in brown and gold robes, his arms at his sides and looking at them pleasantly, as if his life wasn’t being threatened. Killian could only think of one person who could be that brave.
“Merlin,” he declared, his sword still held pointed at the wizard.
“Indeed. Now, if you could be so kind as to lower your weapons…”
Killian and Alice complied, sheathing their weapons. But Killian couldn’t shake the wariness he felt. “What did you mean, ‘looks can be deceptive?’” Killian’s eyebrow raised questioningly at the wizard.
If possible, Merlin’s grin grew wider and he waved his hand. Killian and Alice gasped at their surroundings melted away like candle wax, the decrepit area replaced by a thriving town square, people milling around them, vendors selling their wares.
Killian and Alice gaped as they saw all the people - Killian could not wrap his head around the display of magic. Just a moment ago, the place had been completely empty and neglected.
“Just a simple glamour to keep out unsavory characters,” Merlin assured, his hands clasped in front of him. “Queen Guinevere had it put up when she formed the kingdom with Ser Lancelot,” he informed them.
Killian was taken aback; all the stories that he had heard in the Land without Magic, King Arthur was the ruler of Camelot, and Lancelot was just a knight. “What about King Arthur?”
Merlin sighed, shaking his head. “Arthur...Well, he was nothing but a disappointment. Thankfully, our queen recognised it and made sure the people did not suffer from his obsession and neglect.” He clapped his hands together, making father and daughter stare at one another doubtfully. “However, you are here for a different reason, aren’t you?”
Killian shared a look with Alice before he stepped forward. “Perhaps there is somewhere else for us to speak, mate? Somewhere private, maybe?”
-/-
Present: Enchanted Forest
Emma let out an agonising scream, straining heavily in her bonds, as Gothel’s newest creation wreaked havoc on her. The witch had been torturing Emma for the past week, injecting her with different concoctions, exploiting the Darkness in her to make her weaker. For so long, she had been able to manage having the Darkness be a part of her, had resisted using her magic for this very reason. Every time she had used her magic, it had been painful. It had taken her a year or two to get used to the Darkness and to train herself to draw from the light magic only. It had been fairly easy, there was hardly any dark magic in her. But she had not accounted for the Darkness to draw power from the light magic, never accounted for its growth.
The more the Darkness grew in her, the weaker she had become. She hadn’t noticed it all until a year ago when she had found Merlin. He had noticed the growing Darkness in her, he had been the one to tell her of her fate; he had also told her that there was no way for them to separate the dark and light magic in her. They exist as one and would be destroyed as one. Perhaps, if you had come to me sooner, he had said. He had been the one to tell her Killian would be the only other person who would be able to remove just the Darkness. It had originally been a part of him, and would thus go back to him, leaving her light magic behind. Theoretically, that would be the outcome. She had almost tested that theory out, before Alice had come back.
Unfortunately for Emma, Gothel had learnt her secret as well. She had been injecting Emma with different potions to activate the Darkness in her. The weaker Emma grew, the less resistant she could be to Gothel’s magic. She intended to get Emma as weak as she possibly could, before Gothel forced Emma to reveal the plan to get rid of the Darkness.
For the past week, Emma had been confident that she would be able to make it. Until today, Emma could feel the Darkness take root. She could feel the pain in every cell of her body, as if she was burning from within. It was unbearable, and Emma couldn’t help but cry out. She had almost given up, almost begged Gothel to make it stop - but she refused to give the witch that satisfaction. She was stronger than that - she was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. Her parents had faced death with dignity; they might have been defeated, but they had their integrity. If Emma had to die, she would prefer to have her integrity intact. It was all she had left of her parents.
“My, my, aren’t you the stubborn one,” Gothel spat, wrapping her hand around Emma’s throat and squeezing. “But you are so weak now, Emma. You’re no match for my magic.”
“Do whatever the hell you want. You can never stop the Darkness from being destroyed.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear. You’re going to tell me exactly what your plan is, and I’m going to make certain you lot rue the day you met me.”
-/-
20 years ago: Enchanted Forest
Killian and Emma had managed to set up camp at a riverbed. He caught them some fish, despite not feeling hungry, and Emma built a fire. Alice, now awake, watched everything they did with rapt attention, and she even helped Killian catch fish, jumping with joy when she first felt the water lapping at her feet, the smaller fish tickling her as they swam past. Killian silently enjoyed her carefreeness, her heart soaring at her happiness. This was all he wanted for her - but he had never anticipated the price would have been so steep. He knew what needed to be done, now. He had no control over this Darkness. He was weak, he had succumbed to it before in the past, and he had let it take over today. He could not imagine what would happen when he was not strong enough to pull back. He had seen the way it had wrecked Baelfire’s family, seen what the Darkness had turned Rumplestiltskin into.
He did not want that for his family. He pulled out the magic bean he had been carrying with him for centuries, having stolen it from Pan on his very last visit to Neverland. He had held on to it in hopes that he would use it once he had freed Alice. But he needed to get away from here, where the temptation was always there. Nothing would be able to stop him from sinking, not even his family.
He had heard of the Land without Magic from Baelfire; he would use the bean to go there. He would make sure he did not have his memories, that he would have nothing that would bring him back here. Not until Emma had found a cure to this plague. She would understand his reasons, she had to. Killian could not handle being here, he did not want to fight against the Darkness for a second longer than he had to. And if he went to the Land without Magic, he wouldn’t have to.
Once the fish was caught, cooked, and consumed, Alice promptly fell asleep again. That was good, he decided. He would not be able to tell Alice goodbye; he couldn’t watch her cry again. He had hurt her enough.
“Killian?” Emma called out, pulling him away from his thoughts. “Is everything alright? Is it- is the Darkness speaking to you again?” she asked, worry evident in her tone.
He smiled at her half-heartedly, grabbing her right hand in his own, fiddling with the green stone ring on her finger. He remembered the night she had told him the story about it, about how her mother had stolen the ring from her father, and how Prince David found Snow White, and how they fell in love. He wanted something like that for them. He wanted True Love. He wanted to believe that they would find each other again, no matter how long it took.
“No, darling. Just my own thoughts that are keeping me awake.”
“Do you want to talk about it? After all, aren’t married people supposed to share their burdens?” Emma teased, smiling coyly at him.
“Oh, Swan,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her to him. Emma snuggled into his body, pressing her nose to his neck, exhaling softly. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too, Jones.”
He closed his eyes, revelling in the moment, burning it to his memory. He needed just a moment, where everything was alright. He had finally managed to free his child, and he was engaged to the woman he loved. If it weren’t for the Darkness, this would be the best moment of his life; he wanted to pretend that it was. Just for a moment.
So he did, but he pulled away the next. “I need to talk to you, Emma.”
Emma pursed her lips, staring at him seriously. “Why do I get the feeling that I won’t like what you are about to say?”
“Oh, you will most surely hate it. But I-”
“Don’t say it,” she cut him off. “Don’t do it. Whatever you are thinking of - don’t.”
He sighed deeply, reaching for her hand, but she pulled away. She eyed him warily, her arms wrapped around herself protectively. “You don’t get to hold my hand and break my heart, Killian.”
“Dammit, Emma. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m doing this for you,” Killian snapped, standing up and starting to pace. “I need to leave, get far away from here. I am not strong enough to control this. I will descend much deeper into the Darkness, and I cannot come out of it. I will hurt you and Alice. I don’t want that.”
“What about what we want?” Emma whispered, eerily calm. “What about what I want? I want you to stay, and fight this. You have us, lean on us.” She stood up too, her eyes glassy with tears, her teeth biting the inside of her cheek.
“I can’t, Emma. Please, don’t make me. I can’t fight. I will fail, and I don’t want that. I don’t want this Darkness. I never should have taken the Dagger.” Killian could hear the desperation in his own voice.
Emma let out a long, shuddering breath. “What do you want to do?” she asked, after a long silence.
And so he told her, every detail of his plan laid out in front of Emma. He could practically see how every word out of his mouth broke her heart a little bit more. But she let him talk and listened attentively. She didn’t say a word, not until he was done.
“You’ll be in this Land without Magic, and you will not have any of your memories, is that right?” she asked softly, her eyes trained on the ground.
He waited a beat, hoping she would look up at him. But when it became evident that she wouldn’t, he replied with a simple ‘Aye.’
She took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, nodding to herself. She finally looked him in the eye, her gaze sharp and determined, every bit the stubborn, strong woman he had fallen in love with. “I will get the answer to this dilemma, and I will come for you. I will find you.” Her words were confident and firm. Before he could thank her, however, she cut him off. “Do not think for one moment that this doesn’t break my heart.”
He swallowed thickly, knowing that there was only one thing left to you. “I need to leave now. Before Alice wakes up.”
Emma’s brows pulled together, and he could sense her anger. “You’re not even going to tell your daughter goodbye?” she demanded.
“I can’t do it, Emma. She will be devastated, she will make me stay. I can’t allow that to happen.”
She stared at him quietly, her rage radiating off of her in waves, her eyes wide and nostrils flaring. “You are a coward, Killian Jones,” she declared.
He hung his head in shame, moving toward his sleeping daughter, kneeling beside her. His throat was thick with tears, his heart hurt simply thinking about leaving her. He had never been so far from her - now, not only would he be in another realm, he would have no memory of her. It was for the best, though. It had be.
He squeezed his eyes shut, brushing Alice’s hair away from her forehead, pressing the lightest of kisses there, lingering for a moment before he pulled away. He took her in for a moment, knowing that he would miss watching her grow up. Just a few years, he told himself. You will see her in a few years.
“You don’t have to leave, Killian.” Emma’s soft voice floated through the air. “You could stay.”
Killian got up, taking one last look at his daughter before he turned to Emma. “Have you come up with a way to replace my memories in the Land without Magic?” he asked her, ignoring her statements.
She sighed, clearly still angry with him, but nodded. “I can modify your existing memories, I can store the real ones in a Dreamcatcher.”
“Let us do this, then.”
-/-
Present: Camelot
“This is yours?” Killian asked, tracing the hilt of Excalibur, Merlin’s name etched on the blade. It looked just like the Dark One’s dagger, only much longer and with an end missing. But Merlin explained that as well - how he had forged Excalibur, how the sword was broken by the first Dark One, how the Dark One had murdered his love, Nimue. How he tethered the Darkness to the Dagger.
The Darkness hissed at that, screaming at Killian to destroy the wizard and ravage Camelot, to let it free. He was thankful for the cuff preventing him from doing any magic, because he was certain he would have given in. He could hear the whispers from the Dagger, driving him insane.
“Yes,” Merlin answered. “Now you know everything you need to. We need to hurry, rid the world of this Darkness. Once and for all.”
“What about Gothel?” Alice asked. “What if she decides to stop us?”
“She will need to go through me, then,” Killian piped up, his jaw clenched tight. “Where do we need to go to find this Promethean flame?” he asked, addressing Merlin.
“It’s not too far, but I need to warn you. This is your battle, Killian. The Darkness will try everything to convince you not to do this. You will either win, or it will take over you, forever. There can be no cuff stopping you from using your magic,” Merlin warned. “This is ancient magic, more powerful than you could ever imagine. You did not have to face its true extent for decades, if what you say is true.”
“Aye, I understand.” Killian had made up his mind - after everything his daughter and Emma had sacrificed for him, he needed to step up. He had to face everything he had run away from, and he needed to start with the Darkness.
“Papa, perhaps we should talk about this?” Alice suggested, looking vexed at the task ahead of them. “Couldn’t I do this?” she asked Merlin.
“No, Starfish. It is my turn to take care of you now. I need to face my demons. And I will,” Killian vowed. He turned to Merlin. “Tell me everything I need to do, and I will do it.”
-/-
Present Day: Enchanted Forest
Emma panted heavily, her wrists sore from the constant friction against the shackles, feeling weak and useless as Gothel used her vile magic to delve into her mind. It was the worst torment, feeling a strange presence in her mind, moving through her thoughts and memories, invading her. It was a great violation, one that left her sick to her stomach. No matter how much she tried to resist, Gothel’s magic was stronger than Emma’s.
If there was any light magic left in her, it was hindered by the shackles she wore or was buried deep under layers of dark magic. Emma wanted to cry; her light magic had been the only constant in her life, and for it to be violated and corrupted, hurt in innumerable ways. She had never thought there could exist a person so cruel, a person who understood how precious natural magic was and could still inflict such horrors on another, like Gothel was.
She had tried so hard, for so long, to fight. But she had lost all ability to - and if she was being honest with herself, all will to. Emma was tired of being strong. She had finally been broken, and she did not have the fight left in her. She knew that was what Gothel wanted, and she had tried so hard not to give the witch that satisfaction - but she couldn’t hold on anymore.
Emma closed her eyes, tears running down the corners of her eyes, and she gave complete control of herself to Gothel. The Darkness had won.
-/-
20 years ago: Enchanted Forest
Emma gave the Dreamcatcher to Killian, not able to bring herself to take his memories. He understood, knowing that what he had already asked of her was a great enough price. She could not believe what Killian was about to do. She was certain that it was the Darkness in him that had made him so paranoid and so selfish. She would have fought him on his decision, if she had been talking to Killian alone. But the Darkness was unpredictable, and she could understand Killian’s fear. She might not support his decision, but she could at least understand where he came from.
She stood to the side, as she watched him perform the spell to transfer his memories on to the Dreamcatcher once he had crossover to the other realm. She still had him here with her, for a few moments at least. She fiddled with her mother’s ring for a moment before she took it off all together. Emma approached Killian, both of them smiling shakily at each other.
“My pirate,” she whispered fondly, looking up at him, her eyes roaming over every inch of his face, etching him into her memory. “It’s almost time, isn’t it?”
“Aye. Emma. I am sorry, love.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek softly, looking at her with a kind of broken tenderness that made her gut clench.
She pressed her mother’s ring in his palm, shocking him. He stared at her, his lips moving wordlessly. “I just thought - Well, you gave me a ring. It felt right, to give you my mother’s. It’s a promise, I guess. And- We never got to the wedding, technically, and I expect that once you come back. But until then….” She trailed off, closing his fingers around the ring.
“Until then,” he vowed, softly, but with great conviction.
She nodded, swallowing hard at the lump in her throat. It was useless, though, as tears welled heavy in her eyes. She clutched the lapel of his greatcoat tightly, pulling him down to her. She pressed their lips together, kissing him with everything she had, wet and desperate, their breaths mingling every time they pulled back for air. She was loathe to end it, biting down on his lip. Killian was the one to pull away, his hand on her shoulder, both of them breathing heavily.
He pulled the Dagger from inside his jacket, handing it to Emma with a trembling hand. “Hold on to this for me, aye?”
Emma took the Dagger with both hands, her thumb tracing his name etched in the metal. “There’s still time to change your mind.”
“Swan.”
“I know...I - I don’t know how long it will be until I see you again. What if I never find a way to save you? You’re immortal, I am not.”
Killian nodded, his eyes serious and unwavering. “I know, love. And I think I know a way to prevent that.”
“What?” she asked, curious. He hesitated, looking at her with a strange, apologetic look in his eyes. “What is it?” she demanded, pulling away from him completely.
“I’m sorry, Emma. I couldn’t think of another way,” he said, sounding helpless.
“What do you-”
But before she could finish the sentence, he released a burst of magic her way. Emma gasped, feeling the Darkness hit her, the force of it sending her flying. She felt her magic flare up to fight against the invading power, the heavy, foul magic pushing its way through. Emma could feel it flow through her veins, her entire body unbearably hot. She could hardly move, laying slumped against a tree.
Emma gaped at Killian, the betrayal causing bile to rise in her throat, tears of anger threatening to fall. He looked remorsefully at her, his heartbreak apparent on his features.
“I am so sorry, Swan,” he called out. He threw the bean to the ground, the portal opening up immediately. “I love you. This was the only way I could make sure we see other again.”
Emma choked on a sob, feeling breathless and crippled, watching as Killian walked through the portal, leaving her with a gaping hole in her chest, and whatever spell he hit her with, destroying both her heart and soul, in one fell swoop.
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Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits
Your Marine Water Heaters Distributors Talk About the Importance of Coffee Science and Boating
Raritan Engineeringyour marine water heaters experts would like to share with you this week some great information regarding great ideas for brewing coffee while boating.
A few years ago, a gourmet coffee maker contacted us*about a new blend it had developed especially for sailors. As I recall, the medium roast was formulated to create a full-bodied taste and aroma when savored outside in the salt air.
As far as I can tell, no one yet has designed the ideal way to make cup of coffee underway aboard a sailboat. With the hopes of sparing other coffee-lovers years of frustration, or possible injury, I'm sha ring my experience with the several methods we've tried.
Instant coffee: We spent a couple weeks re-caulkingour ketch,Tosca,in Cartegena, Colombia and were chagrined to discover that Nescafe was served at all the restaurants in this coffee-producing country, prompting us to give it a try. Perhaps the South American version was different from the one we knew? Nope.
Cowboy coffee:We were introduced to this method by a couple of Canadian conspiracy theorists in Fiji, who refused to buy anything made in an industrialized nation that they did not absolutely need. As I recall, all their meals like their coffee were made in one large pot.
Your Marine Water Heaters Manufacturers Share Great Coffee Making Options With You
Stovetop percolator: Your marine water heatersprofessionals d iscuss how we picked up one of these at a hardware store in Venezuela. It worked tolerably well at anchor, when the tall pot remained upright, but if you need your morning coffee fast, waiting intently for the telltale gurgle and drip (it seemed to take forever) is a sadistic form of torture.
French press:I only recently learned that I have been using this wrong all these years, which might be why I never really fully appreciated the taste. The correct approach involves freshly ground beans of a uniform coarseness (apparently only achievable with a special kind of grinder), and a carefully timed steeping. Here'sa linkto one of several sites that describe the process in detail. There are so many ways this process can go wrong that I don't know where to start, but two words sum it up quite well burr grinder.
Stovetop espresso maker:We bought this at the same time we picked up the percolator. (Venezuelans have more kinds of coffee than we h ave breakfast cereals.)
We were giddy with the excitement of making espresso (real espresso!) onboard, until we realized that this contraption, in the process of brewing, transfers all of the water from the bottom of the container to the top.
Manual drip cone:In the end, we settled for this method. It uses a funnel-type basket that accepts the same type of filters you use in drip coffeemakers. On long passages, we'd make one thermos full in the evening in the sink, in case of spills and this was usually accomplished without injury.
Bottom line: It works, but not without risk. A good teapot that pours without spilling helps prevent disasters. When its just me in the morning, I still make my coffee this way.
We are currently investigating other methods of making coffee onboard, including the Aeropress, which works something like a French press to make espresso. Interestingly, it's made by the same company that developed the far-flying Aerob ie flying disc.
Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
One study surveyed more than 520,000 people in 10 European countries, making it the largest study to date on coffee and mortality, and found that drinking more coffee could significantly lower a person's risk of mortality.
The second studywas more novel, as it focused on nonwhite populations. After surveying over 185,000 African-Americans, Native Americans, Hawaiians, Japanese-Americans, Latinos and whites, the researchers found that coffee increases longevity across various races.
People who drank two to four cups a day had an 18% lower risk of death compared with people who did not drink coffee, according to the study. These findings are consistentwith previous studies that had looked at majority white populations, said Veronica Wendy Setiawan, associate professor of preventative medicine at USC's Keck School of Medicine, who led the study on nonwhite population s.
The study on European countries revealed an inverse association between coffee and liver disease, suicide in men, cancer in women, digestive diseases and circulatory diseases. Those who drank three or more cups a day had a lower risk for all-cause death than people who did not drink coffee.
The fact that we saw the same relationships in different countries is kind of the implication that its something about coffee rather than its something about the way that coffee is prepared or the way it's drunk, he said.
The biological benefits and caveats
Coffee is a complex mixture of compounds, some of which have been revealed in laboratories to have biological effects, Gunter said.
Both studies separated smokers from nonsmokers, since smoking is known to reduce lifespan and is linked to various deceases. However, they found that coffee had inverse effects on mortality for smokers too.
Even if it was in some way true, it doesn't make sense to me, because by smoking, you increase your mortality several-fold. Then, if you reduce it by 10% drinking coffee, give me a break, said Ascherio, who was not involved in the study.
I think it's a dangerous proposition because it suggests that a smoker can counteract the effects of smoking by drinking coffee, which is borderline insane.
The studies complement work that has been done on coffee and mortality, he said, and it has been reasonably documented that coffee drinkers have a lower risk of death.
I think that the solid conclusion is that if you're a coffee drinker, keep drinking your coffee and be happy, Ascherio said. And if you're not? I think you can go on drinking your tea or w ater without a problem.
Meanwhile, Gunter and Setiawan stand a bit more firmly on coffee as a health benefit.
Click hereand find more information regarding marine water heaters at Raritan Engineering. We are your #1 experts in marine sanitation supplies.
Find out more about Raritan Marine Water Heaters Below
youtube
viaAdventures in Onboard Coffee Making
*Posted by Darrell Nicholson
via Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
The post Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits appeared first on .
0 notes
Text
Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits
Your Marine Water Heaters Distributors Talk About the Importance of Coffee Science and Boating
Raritan Engineeringyour marine water heaters experts would like to share with you this week some great information regarding great ideas for brewing coffee while boating.
A few years ago, a gourmet coffee maker contacted us*about a new blend it had developed especially for sailors. As I recall, the medium roast was formulated to create a full-bodied taste and aroma when savored outside in the salt air.
As far as I can tell, no one yet has designed the ideal way to make cup of coffee underway aboard a sailboat. With the hopes of sparing other coffee-lovers years of frustration, or possible injury, I'm sha ring my experience with the several methods we've tried.
Instant coffee: We spent a couple weeks re-caulkingour ketch,Tosca,in Cartegena, Colombia and were chagrined to discover that Nescafe was served at all the restaurants in this coffee-producing country, prompting us to give it a try. Perhaps the South American version was different from the one we knew? Nope.
Cowboy coffee:We were introduced to this method by a couple of Canadian conspiracy theorists in Fiji, who refused to buy anything made in an industrialized nation that they did not absolutely need. As I recall, all their meals like their coffee were made in one large pot.
Your Marine Water Heaters Manufacturers Share Great Coffee Making Options With You
Stovetop percolator: Your marine water heatersprofessionals d iscuss how we picked up one of these at a hardware store in Venezuela. It worked tolerably well at anchor, when the tall pot remained upright, but if you need your morning coffee fast, waiting intently for the telltale gurgle and drip (it seemed to take forever) is a sadistic form of torture.
French press:I only recently learned that I have been using this wrong all these years, which might be why I never really fully appreciated the taste. The correct approach involves freshly ground beans of a uniform coarseness (apparently only achievable with a special kind of grinder), and a carefully timed steeping. Here'sa linkto one of several sites that describe the process in detail. There are so many ways this process can go wrong that I don't know where to start, but two words sum it up quite well burr grinder.
Stovetop espresso maker:We bought this at the same time we picked up the percolator. (Venezuelans have more kinds of coffee than we h ave breakfast cereals.)
We were giddy with the excitement of making espresso (real espresso!) onboard, until we realized that this contraption, in the process of brewing, transfers all of the water from the bottom of the container to the top.
Manual drip cone:In the end, we settled for this method. It uses a funnel-type basket that accepts the same type of filters you use in drip coffeemakers. On long passages, we'd make one thermos full in the evening in the sink, in case of spills and this was usually accomplished without injury.
Bottom line: It works, but not without risk. A good teapot that pours without spilling helps prevent disasters. When its just me in the morning, I still make my coffee this way.
We are currently investigating other methods of making coffee onboard, including the Aeropress, which works something like a French press to make espresso. Interestingly, it's made by the same company that developed the far-flying Aerob ie flying disc.
Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
One study surveyed more than 520,000 people in 10 European countries, making it the largest study to date on coffee and mortality, and found that drinking more coffee could significantly lower a person's risk of mortality.
The second studywas more novel, as it focused on nonwhite populations. After surveying over 185,000 African-Americans, Native Americans, Hawaiians, Japanese-Americans, Latinos and whites, the researchers found that coffee increases longevity across various races.
People who drank two to four cups a day had an 18% lower risk of death compared with people who did not drink coffee, according to the study. These findings are consistentwith previous studies that had looked at majority white populations, said Veronica Wendy Setiawan, associate professor of preventative medicine at USC's Keck School of Medicine, who led the study on nonwhite population s.
The study on European countries revealed an inverse association between coffee and liver disease, suicide in men, cancer in women, digestive diseases and circulatory diseases. Those who drank three or more cups a day had a lower risk for all-cause death than people who did not drink coffee.
The fact that we saw the same relationships in different countries is kind of the implication that its something about coffee rather than its something about the way that coffee is prepared or the way it's drunk, he said.
The biological benefits and caveats
Coffee is a complex mixture of compounds, some of which have been revealed in laboratories to have biological effects, Gunter said.
Both studies separated smokers from nonsmokers, since smoking is known to reduce lifespan and is linked to various deceases. However, they found that coffee had inverse effects on mortality for smokers too.
Even if it was in some way true, it doesn't make sense to me, because by smoking, you increase your mortality several-fold. Then, if you reduce it by 10% drinking coffee, give me a break, said Ascherio, who was not involved in the study.
I think it's a dangerous proposition because it suggests that a smoker can counteract the effects of smoking by drinking coffee, which is borderline insane.
The studies complement work that has been done on coffee and mortality, he said, and it has been reasonably documented that coffee drinkers have a lower risk of death.
I think that the solid conclusion is that if you're a coffee drinker, keep drinking your coffee and be happy, Ascherio said. And if you're not? I think you can go on drinking your tea or w ater without a problem.
Meanwhile, Gunter and Setiawan stand a bit more firmly on coffee as a health benefit.
Click hereand find more information regarding marine water heaters at Raritan Engineering. We are your #1 experts in marine sanitation supplies.
Find out more about Raritan Marine Water Heaters Below
youtube
viaAdventures in Onboard Coffee Making
*Posted by Darrell Nicholson
via Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
The post Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits appeared first on .
0 notes
Text
Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits
Your Marine Water Heaters Distributors Talk About the Importance of Coffee Science and Boating
Raritan Engineeringyour marine water heaters experts would like to share with you this week some great information regarding great ideas for brewing coffee while boating.
A few years ago, a gourmet coffee maker contacted us*about a new blend it had developed especially for sailors. As I recall, the medium roast was formulated to create a full-bodied taste and aroma when savored outside in the salt air.
As far as I can tell, no one yet has designed the ideal way to make cup of coffee underway aboard a sailboat. With the hopes of sparing other coffee-lovers years of frustration, or possible injury, I'm sha ring my experience with the several methods we've tried.
Instant coffee: We spent a couple weeks re-caulkingour ketch,Tosca,in Cartegena, Colombia and were chagrined to discover that Nescafe was served at all the restaurants in this coffee-producing country, prompting us to give it a try. Perhaps the South American version was different from the one we knew? Nope.
Cowboy coffee:We were introduced to this method by a couple of Canadian conspiracy theorists in Fiji, who refused to buy anything made in an industrialized nation that they did not absolutely need. As I recall, all their meals like their coffee were made in one large pot.
Your Marine Water Heaters Manufacturers Share Great Coffee Making Options With You
Stovetop percolator: Your marine water heatersprofessionals d iscuss how we picked up one of these at a hardware store in Venezuela. It worked tolerably well at anchor, when the tall pot remained upright, but if you need your morning coffee fast, waiting intently for the telltale gurgle and drip (it seemed to take forever) is a sadistic form of torture.
French press:I only recently learned that I have been using this wrong all these years, which might be why I never really fully appreciated the taste. The correct approach involves freshly ground beans of a uniform coarseness (apparently only achievable with a special kind of grinder), and a carefully timed steeping. Here'sa linkto one of several sites that describe the process in detail. There are so many ways this process can go wrong that I don't know where to start, but two words sum it up quite well burr grinder.
Stovetop espresso maker:We bought this at the same time we picked up the percolator. (Venezuelans have more kinds of coffee than we h ave breakfast cereals.)
We were giddy with the excitement of making espresso (real espresso!) onboard, until we realized that this contraption, in the process of brewing, transfers all of the water from the bottom of the container to the top.
Manual drip cone:In the end, we settled for this method. It uses a funnel-type basket that accepts the same type of filters you use in drip coffeemakers. On long passages, we'd make one thermos full in the evening in the sink, in case of spills and this was usually accomplished without injury.
Bottom line: It works, but not without risk. A good teapot that pours without spilling helps prevent disasters. When its just me in the morning, I still make my coffee this way.
We are currently investigating other methods of making coffee onboard, including the Aeropress, which works something like a French press to make espresso. Interestingly, it's made by the same company that developed the far-flying Aerob ie flying disc.
Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
One study surveyed more than 520,000 people in 10 European countries, making it the largest study to date on coffee and mortality, and found that drinking more coffee could significantly lower a person's risk of mortality.
The second studywas more novel, as it focused on nonwhite populations. After surveying over 185,000 African-Americans, Native Americans, Hawaiians, Japanese-Americans, Latinos and whites, the researchers found that coffee increases longevity across various races.
People who drank two to four cups a day had an 18% lower risk of death compared with people who did not drink coffee, according to the study. These findings are consistentwith previous studies that had looked at majority white populations, said Veronica Wendy Setiawan, associate professor of preventative medicine at USC's Keck School of Medicine, who led the study on nonwhite population s.
The study on European countries revealed an inverse association between coffee and liver disease, suicide in men, cancer in women, digestive diseases and circulatory diseases. Those who drank three or more cups a day had a lower risk for all-cause death than people who did not drink coffee.
The fact that we saw the same relationships in different countries is kind of the implication that its something about coffee rather than its something about the way that coffee is prepared or the way it's drunk, he said.
The biological benefits and caveats
Coffee is a complex mixture of compounds, some of which have been revealed in laboratories to have biological effects, Gunter said.
Both studies separated smokers from nonsmokers, since smoking is known to reduce lifespan and is linked to various deceases. However, they found that coffee had inverse effects on mortality for smokers too.
Even if it was in some way true, it doesn't make sense to me, because by smoking, you increase your mortality several-fold. Then, if you reduce it by 10% drinking coffee, give me a break, said Ascherio, who was not involved in the study.
I think it's a dangerous proposition because it suggests that a smoker can counteract the effects of smoking by drinking coffee, which is borderline insane.
The studies complement work that has been done on coffee and mortality, he said, and it has been reasonably documented that coffee drinkers have a lower risk of death.
I think that the solid conclusion is that if you're a coffee drinker, keep drinking your coffee and be happy, Ascherio said. And if you're not? I think you can go on drinking your tea or w ater without a problem.
Meanwhile, Gunter and Setiawan stand a bit more firmly on coffee as a health benefit.
Click hereand find more information regarding marine water heaters at Raritan Engineering. We are your #1 experts in marine sanitation supplies.
Find out more about Raritan Marine Water Heaters Below
youtube
viaAdventures in Onboard Coffee Making
*Posted by Darrell Nicholson
via Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
The post Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits appeared first on .
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Text
Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits
Your Marine Water Heaters Distributors Talk About the Importance of Coffee Science and Boating
Raritan Engineeringyour marine water heaters experts would like to share with you this week some great information regarding great ideas for brewing coffee while boating.
A few years ago, a gourmet coffee maker contacted us*about a new blend it had developed especially for sailors. As I recall, the medium roast was formulated to create a full-bodied taste and aroma when savored outside in the salt air.
As far as I can tell, no one yet has designed the ideal way to make cup of coffee underway aboard a sailboat. With the hopes of sparing other coffee-lovers years of frustration, or possible injury, I'm sha ring my experience with the several methods we've tried.
Instant coffee: We spent a couple weeks re-caulkingour ketch,Tosca,in Cartegena, Colombia and were chagrined to discover that Nescafe was served at all the restaurants in this coffee-producing country, prompting us to give it a try. Perhaps the South American version was different from the one we knew? Nope.
Cowboy coffee:We were introduced to this method by a couple of Canadian conspiracy theorists in Fiji, who refused to buy anything made in an industrialized nation that they did not absolutely need. As I recall, all their meals like their coffee were made in one large pot.
Your Marine Water Heaters Manufacturers Share Great Coffee Making Options With You
Stovetop percolator: Your marine water heatersprofessionals d iscuss how we picked up one of these at a hardware store in Venezuela. It worked tolerably well at anchor, when the tall pot remained upright, but if you need your morning coffee fast, waiting intently for the telltale gurgle and drip (it seemed to take forever) is a sadistic form of torture.
French press:I only recently learned that I have been using this wrong all these years, which might be why I never really fully appreciated the taste. The correct approach involves freshly ground beans of a uniform coarseness (apparently only achievable with a special kind of grinder), and a carefully timed steeping. Here'sa linkto one of several sites that describe the process in detail. There are so many ways this process can go wrong that I don't know where to start, but two words sum it up quite well burr grinder.
Stovetop espresso maker:We bought this at the same time we picked up the percolator. (Venezuelans have more kinds of coffee than we h ave breakfast cereals.)
We were giddy with the excitement of making espresso (real espresso!) onboard, until we realized that this contraption, in the process of brewing, transfers all of the water from the bottom of the container to the top.
Manual drip cone:In the end, we settled for this method. It uses a funnel-type basket that accepts the same type of filters you use in drip coffeemakers. On long passages, we'd make one thermos full in the evening in the sink, in case of spills and this was usually accomplished without injury.
Bottom line: It works, but not without risk. A good teapot that pours without spilling helps prevent disasters. When its just me in the morning, I still make my coffee this way.
We are currently investigating other methods of making coffee onboard, including the Aeropress, which works something like a French press to make espresso. Interestingly, it's made by the same company that developed the far-flying Aerob ie flying disc.
Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
One study surveyed more than 520,000 people in 10 European countries, making it the largest study to date on coffee and mortality, and found that drinking more coffee could significantly lower a person's risk of mortality.
The second studywas more novel, as it focused on nonwhite populations. After surveying over 185,000 African-Americans, Native Americans, Hawaiians, Japanese-Americans, Latinos and whites, the researchers found that coffee increases longevity across various races.
People who drank two to four cups a day had an 18% lower risk of death compared with people who did not drink coffee, according to the study. These findings are consistentwith previous studies that had looked at majority white populations, said Veronica Wendy Setiawan, associate professor of preventative medicine at USC's Keck School of Medicine, who led the study on nonwhite population s.
The study on European countries revealed an inverse association between coffee and liver disease, suicide in men, cancer in women, digestive diseases and circulatory diseases. Those who drank three or more cups a day had a lower risk for all-cause death than people who did not drink coffee.
The fact that we saw the same relationships in different countries is kind of the implication that its something about coffee rather than its something about the way that coffee is prepared or the way it's drunk, he said.
The biological benefits and caveats
Coffee is a complex mixture of compounds, some of which have been revealed in laboratories to have biological effects, Gunter said.
Both studies separated smokers from nonsmokers, since smoking is known to reduce lifespan and is linked to various deceases. However, they found that coffee had inverse effects on mortality for smokers too.
Even if it was in some way true, it doesn't make sense to me, because by smoking, you increase your mortality several-fold. Then, if you reduce it by 10% drinking coffee, give me a break, said Ascherio, who was not involved in the study.
I think it's a dangerous proposition because it suggests that a smoker can counteract the effects of smoking by drinking coffee, which is borderline insane.
The studies complement work that has been done on coffee and mortality, he said, and it has been reasonably documented that coffee drinkers have a lower risk of death.
I think that the solid conclusion is that if you're a coffee drinker, keep drinking your coffee and be happy, Ascherio said. And if you're not? I think you can go on drinking your tea or w ater without a problem.
Meanwhile, Gunter and Setiawan stand a bit more firmly on coffee as a health benefit.
Click hereand find more information regarding marine water heaters at Raritan Engineering. We are your #1 experts in marine sanitation supplies.
Find out more about Raritan Marine Water Heaters Below
youtube
viaAdventures in Onboard Coffee Making
*Posted by Darrell Nicholson
via Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
The post Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits appeared first on .
0 notes
Text
Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits
Your Marine Water Heaters Distributors Talk About the Importance of Coffee Science and Boating
Raritan Engineeringyour marine water heaters experts would like to share with you this week some great information regarding great ideas for brewing coffee while boating.
A few years ago, a gourmet coffee maker contacted us*about a new blend it had developed especially for sailors. As I recall, the medium roast was formulated to create a full-bodied taste and aroma when savored outside in the salt air.
As far as I can tell, no one yet has designed the ideal way to make cup of coffee underway aboard a sailboat. With the hopes of sparing other coffee-lovers years of frustration, or possible injury, I'm sha ring my experience with the several methods we've tried.
Instant coffee: We spent a couple weeks re-caulkingour ketch,Tosca,in Cartegena, Colombia and were chagrined to discover that Nescafe was served at all the restaurants in this coffee-producing country, prompting us to give it a try. Perhaps the South American version was different from the one we knew? Nope.
Cowboy coffee:We were introduced to this method by a couple of Canadian conspiracy theorists in Fiji, who refused to buy anything made in an industrialized nation that they did not absolutely need. As I recall, all their meals like their coffee were made in one large pot.
Your Marine Water Heaters Manufacturers Share Great Coffee Making Options With You
Stovetop percolator: Your marine water heatersprofessionals d iscuss how we picked up one of these at a hardware store in Venezuela. It worked tolerably well at anchor, when the tall pot remained upright, but if you need your morning coffee fast, waiting intently for the telltale gurgle and drip (it seemed to take forever) is a sadistic form of torture.
French press:I only recently learned that I have been using this wrong all these years, which might be why I never really fully appreciated the taste. The correct approach involves freshly ground beans of a uniform coarseness (apparently only achievable with a special kind of grinder), and a carefully timed steeping. Here'sa linkto one of several sites that describe the process in detail. There are so many ways this process can go wrong that I don't know where to start, but two words sum it up quite well burr grinder.
Stovetop espresso maker:We bought this at the same time we picked up the percolator. (Venezuelans have more kinds of coffee than we h ave breakfast cereals.)
We were giddy with the excitement of making espresso (real espresso!) onboard, until we realized that this contraption, in the process of brewing, transfers all of the water from the bottom of the container to the top.
Manual drip cone:In the end, we settled for this method. It uses a funnel-type basket that accepts the same type of filters you use in drip coffeemakers. On long passages, we'd make one thermos full in the evening in the sink, in case of spills and this was usually accomplished without injury.
Bottom line: It works, but not without risk. A good teapot that pours without spilling helps prevent disasters. When its just me in the morning, I still make my coffee this way.
We are currently investigating other methods of making coffee onboard, including the Aeropress, which works something like a French press to make espresso. Interestingly, it's made by the same company that developed the far-flying Aerob ie flying disc.
Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
One study surveyed more than 520,000 people in 10 European countries, making it the largest study to date on coffee and mortality, and found that drinking more coffee could significantly lower a person's risk of mortality.
The second studywas more novel, as it focused on nonwhite populations. After surveying over 185,000 African-Americans, Native Americans, Hawaiians, Japanese-Americans, Latinos and whites, the researchers found that coffee increases longevity across various races.
People who drank two to four cups a day had an 18% lower risk of death compared with people who did not drink coffee, according to the study. These findings are consistentwith previous studies that had looked at majority white populations, said Veronica Wendy Setiawan, associate professor of preventative medicine at USC's Keck School of Medicine, who led the study on nonwhite population s.
The study on European countries revealed an inverse association between coffee and liver disease, suicide in men, cancer in women, digestive diseases and circulatory diseases. Those who drank three or more cups a day had a lower risk for all-cause death than people who did not drink coffee.
The fact that we saw the same relationships in different countries is kind of the implication that its something about coffee rather than its something about the way that coffee is prepared or the way it's drunk, he said.
The biological benefits and caveats
Coffee is a complex mixture of compounds, some of which have been revealed in laboratories to have biological effects, Gunter said.
Both studies separated smokers from nonsmokers, since smoking is known to reduce lifespan and is linked to various deceases. However, they found that coffee had inverse effects on mortality for smokers too.
Even if it was in some way true, it doesn't make sense to me, because by smoking, you increase your mortality several-fold. Then, if you reduce it by 10% drinking coffee, give me a break, said Ascherio, who was not involved in the study.
I think it's a dangerous proposition because it suggests that a smoker can counteract the effects of smoking by drinking coffee, which is borderline insane.
The studies complement work that has been done on coffee and mortality, he said, and it has been reasonably documented that coffee drinkers have a lower risk of death.
I think that the solid conclusion is that if you're a coffee drinker, keep drinking your coffee and be happy, Ascherio said. And if you're not? I think you can go on drinking your tea or w ater without a problem.
Meanwhile, Gunter and Setiawan stand a bit more firmly on coffee as a health benefit.
Click hereand find more information regarding marine water heaters at Raritan Engineering. We are your #1 experts in marine sanitation supplies.
Find out more about Raritan Marine Water Heaters Below
youtube
viaAdventures in Onboard Coffee Making
*Posted by Darrell Nicholson
via Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
The post Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits appeared first on .
0 notes
Text
8x07: A Little Slice of Kevin
You’re not misreading this. We’re recapping a Buckleming episode by choice! Is it a hot mess? Yep. But does it also have literal pining!Dean, gothic romance stormy night window visions, boner scenes, roadside confessions, and badass Cas? Yep, yep, yep, yep, yep.
Then:
Where’s the angel? Also, Mrs. Tran is a bit of a badass.
Now:
At a playground (!), a small boy makes a mess with paints so his teacher takes him to the bathroom to clean up. Her eyes flash black for a moment before the two disappear inside (literally). A windstorm suddenly blasts its way through the park revealing the now empty bathroom.
Meanwhile, Dean is cruising around in Baby in a pine forest (while listening to The Animals’ “We Gotta Get Out of This Place”. LOVE.) He sees a dirty, bedraggled Cas walking on the side of the road and slams on the breaks. Backtracking, he sees nothing.
Well, nothing but a literal sign indicating there’s multiple pining situations happening. Dean then gets. out. of. the. car. to stare forlornly at his surroundings.
Later, at the cabin, Sam finds a case --the missing boy/tornado from the cold open. He notices similar happenings all over the world. They guess demons but have no clue how any of it connects.
Crowley is peak evil demon while he tortures poor Samandriel out of names. It also seems that Sam and Dean were right about the missing people. Crowley has collected them all in his dystopian sci-fi factory.
Kevin and Mrs. Tran are on the run, and she has 1000% embraced the mother of a prophet gig. She’s making holy water traps, hex bags, salt barriers, and has even hired a witch to make demon bombs. (Sidenote: This scene is the only time I hear Amy Wong on this show.) They check in with Delta Mendota via Skype. *insert gross Buckleming innuendos* She’s ready to help and is in no way, shape, or form going to backstab these two.
The brothers interview the teacher of the little boy who disappeared.
Later that night, while Sam sleeps and Dean googles “how to save an angel from Purgatory”, lightning flashes and Cas suddenly appears outside the window. He’s gone just as soon as he appears. Dean rushes to the window and stares at the rain in disbelief.
Sam awakens and wonders what Dean is doing. Dean confesses to seeing Cas outside, and earlier on the side of the road.
Dean then starts to replay his time with Cas in purgatory, wondering why Cas didn’t try harder (while beating himself up for the same reason.) Before finding the portal, Cas pulls Dean aside and thanks him, “for everything.”
For Science:
(Like, ouch. It’s little moments like this that make me really feel the profound effect Dean has had on Cas. This human, of all humans over the course of Earth’s existence, made such a lasting change in this angel.) Dean “Save the Hallmark” Winchester refuses to even humor the idea of Cas not making it through the portal.
Crowley is having second thoughts about abducting all these people, who believe they were abducted by aliens.
He tries getting them to read the demon tablet, but they are hopeless.
Meanwhile, Delta arrives at the Tran hideout with the demon bomb materials. *insert more gross Buckleming innuendos*
The next morning, Sam is discovering more missing people, while Dean hangs out in that liminal world between worlds where Cas and him meet so often, the bathroom (Lol, I typed that thinking it was going to be a poetic line, but that just sounds dirty.)
“Hello, Dean.”
Cas appears, for real this time. I’m not sure Dean’s eyes could pop out any further from his head.
Cut to Sam being all chatty and questioning about Cas’s return from Purgatory, while Dean continues to stand and stare in utter disbelief. Cas has been trying to reach out but hasn’t been at full power (Ahem, at this moment I would like to point out that the brothers still have the Enochian warding on their ribs and shouldn’t be detectable by angels. How strange that Cas can still find Dean though.) Cas has no explanation as to how he got out. Dean flashes back to their final moments in purgatory.
I love this exchange:
Benny: Aren't you guys all about faith? Castiel: Not particularly
Benny’s soul gets sucked into Dean’s arm via a spell, and Dean and Cas head for the portal. They find the portal at last, led to it by the delicate dance of a leaf. I love this! It's so pretty.
Leviathan arrive.
In the present time, Dean and Sam discuss the improbability of Cas being back with them, while Cas cleans up in the bathroom.
A story told in two gifs:
I mean, what the actual fuck, show?
Meanwhile Linda Tran continues to be my favorite, chewing out the witch Delta for trying to change their deal. Suddenly Kevin comes running in. The salt line's been brushed away from the bathroom windowsill! Enter Crowley and a demon lackey, who were let in by Delta. Crowley zaps away with Kevin and orders the other demon to kill Linda. But Linda is ready!
Sam and Dean are busy tracking more demon omens. Sam lists out the names of the missing people and Castiel recites along and then completes it (as he watches TV). Damn it, Cas, stop being adorable. STAHP.
Turns out, those are names of the prophets and they're written on the subway wall in Castiel's mind. Just like slayers, there's only one active prophet and the rest are potential prophets, who get activated when a prophet dies. There's a brief mention here of Chuck. The idea is set forth that Chuck died, thereby activating Kevin. (Chuck you got some 'splaining to do!) Their prophet talk is interrupted by a call from Linda Tran, asking for help.
In Crowley's latest dank industrial hideout, he swans around the table of prophets and bullies Kevin. If the other potential prophets can't do anything to interpret the tablet, they can at least die for it. Crowley brutally kills one of the women when Kevin refuses to translate the tablet, dousing Kevin with blood.
Elsewhere, Dean, Sam, and Castiel wait on a lonely highway for Linda to show up. With nothing more exciting to do, Dean flashes back to Purgatory again. They're fighting the leviathans and it's sharp and brutal and hard. Just barely, they manage to defeat them. Dean steps into the portal and reaches for Cas. They grasp hands, Dean trying to pull Castiel along with him, but the pull of the portal is too strong. Castiel slips from Dean's grasp as Dean zaps away from Purgatory. Dean jolts back to the present and asks Cas to step out of the car to talk. Dean shouts at Cas that he did all he could to get him out. He didn't leave Cas. HE DIDN'T, DAMN IT! Cas squints at him. “So you think this was...your fault?” (Me: Oh my lord these two are bad at words.)
Their confrontation is interrupted by the arrival of Linda who shows them the demon she has in her trunk. It's demon interrogation time!
Speaking of interrogation, Kevin's tied to a chair in Crowley's weird industrial dungeon. With no answers, Crowley chops off one of Kevin's fingers. After screaming in agony, Kevin agrees to read the tablet. He skims through the table of contents for things such as the “collective tapestry of the soul” and “demonic transport to the regions of hell.” (I love this.)
The Winchester-mobile and Linda drive off to Crowley's mysterious industrial pit. Sam cuffs Linda to the car (SAM) and Dean kills the demon in the trunk. Then they head for the compound.
While Crowley casually blows a pinwheel, Kevin discovers a section about sealing the gates of Hell. NOW Crowley is interested.
Sam, Dean, and Cas infiltrate the plant. Sam heads inside and encounters a ton of demons. He pulls out a jar and chucks it at the ground. It explodes and blasts away the demons. There goes their one demon bomb. Meanwhile, Dean and Cas get waylaid by a solitary demon, who knocks the crap out of Dean with a telekinetic blow. Castiel smites the demon, but staggers immediately afterward. His power is super low.
They find a locked door – behind which is Crowley - and while Dean tries to pick the lock, Cas flaps his way into the room alone. Crowley greets him with, “Which Castiel is it this time? I'm never sure. Madman or megalomanic?” They both pull out angel blades and when Crowley scoffs and questions Castiel's power, Cas goes full on angel. His eyes glow blue and he unfurls his wings. “You're bluffing,” Crowley shouts.
“You wanna take that chance?” Castiel asks (and I pause to fan myself). The tablet breaks in two, and Crowley grabs half of it and zaps away.
The next day, Sam bids farewell to Mrs. Tran and Kevin. He's sending them off to Garth. (Yessss I want to watch that show.)
While Sam and the Trans are off having semi-adult conversations, Dean flips out at Castiel, berating him for heading in alone. “Look, I don't need to feel like hell for failing you, okay? For failing you like I've failed every other godforsaken thing that I care about! I don't need it!” OUCH. There are no underlying issues here AT ALL.
Castiel tells him that it wasn't Dean's fault that Cas got left behind. Cas intended to stay behind in Purgatory to do penance. He tells Dean to reexamine the memory. Instead of Cas desperately trying to hang on, Cas actually pushed Dean away and told him to leave. He didn't want to be saved. “I didn't deserve to be out. And I saw that clearly when I was there. I planned to stay all along. I just didn't know how to tell you. You can't save everyone, my friend. Though you try.” GUH CAS
Sam interrupts because, of course. And then suddenly the world disappears and Cas finds himself in a white room. “Hello, Castiel,” a woman in a neat gray suit says. She tells him that he's in Heaven and asks him about Sam and Dean. Castiel immediately spills all the beans EVERYWHERE like a firehose of bean soup.
“Why am I telling you any of this?” he grits out. The woman in the suit is the angel Naomi and she orders Castiel to report on the Winchesters' comings and goings. The angels saved him from Purgatory and reprogrammed him for this one purpose. Castiel refuses, but is powerless to resist her as she zaps him back to the conversation with Sam and Dean. He looks confused, but doesn't remember a thing. Not long afterwards Cas walks off, looking unsettled, leaving a very perturbed Dean behind.
Boris: This post by @elizabethrobertajones makes me very happy.
Quotus Interruptus:
I hired a witch off of Craigslist
You know the rules. Casual encounters. That means no questions asked.
Are we on a spaceship?
I lie, I don't get lied to.
You can't save everyone, my friend. Though you try.
I was going to say that you look like you’ve seen a ghost, but you’d probably be stoked.
This hurts you more than it hurts me, so I can go on forever.
Thank you, for everything.
Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!
#spn recap#spn rewatch#spn 8x07#a little slice of kevin#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#cas#crowley#kevin train#linda tran#delta mendota#samandriel#supernatural season 8
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Marine Water Heaters Specialists Give Great Ideas for Brewing Coffee Aboard Your Boat & Coffee Benefits
Your Marine Water Heaters Distributors Talk About the Importance of Coffee Science and Boating
Raritan Engineeringyour marine water heaters experts would like to share with you this week some great information regarding great ideas for brewing coffee while boating.
A few years ago, a gourmet coffee maker contacted us*about a new blend it had developed especially for sailors. As I recall, the medium roast was formulated to create a full-bodied taste and aroma when savored outside in the salt air.
As far as I can tell, no one yet has designed the ideal way to make cup of coffee underway aboard a sailboat. With the hopes of sparing other coffee-lovers years of frustration, or possible injury, I'm sharing my experience with the several methods we've tried.
Instant coffee: We spent a couple weeks re-caulkingour ketch,Tosca,in Cartegena, Colombia and were chagrined to discover that Nescafe was served at all the restaurants in this coffee-producing country, prompting us to give it a try. Perhaps the South American version was different from the one we knew? Nope.
Cowboy coffee:We were introduced to this method by a couple of Canadian conspiracy theorists in Fiji, who refused to buy anything made in an industrialized nation that they did not absolutely need. As I recall, all their meals like their coffee were made in one large pot.
Your Marine Water Heaters Manufacturers Share Great Coffee Making Options With You
Stovetop percolator: Your marine water heatersprofessionals discuss how we picked up one of these at a hardware store in Venezuela. It worked tolerably well at anchor, when the tall pot remained upright, but if you need your morning coffee fast, waiting intently for the telltale gurgle and drip (it seemed to take forever) is a sadistic form of torture.
French press:I only recently learned that I have been using this wrong all these years, which might be why I never really fully appreciated the taste. The correct approach involves freshly ground beans of a uniform coarseness (apparently only achievable with a special kind of grinder), and a carefully timed steeping. Here'sa linkto one of several sites that describe the process in detail. There are so many ways this process can go wrong that I don't know where to start, but two words sum it up quite well burr grinder.
Stovetop espresso maker:We bought this at the same time we picked up the percolator. (Venezuelans have more kinds of coffee than we have breakfast cereals.)
We were giddy with the excitement of making espresso (real espresso!) onboard, until we realized that this contraption, in the process of brewing, transfers all of the water from the bottom of the container to the top.
Manual drip cone:In the end, we settled for this method. It uses a funnel-type basket that accepts the same type of filters you use in drip coffeemakers. On long passages, we'd make one thermos full in the evening in the sink, in case of spills and this was usually accomplished without injury.
Bottom line: It works, but not without risk. A good teapot that pours without spilling helps prevent disasters. When its just me in the morning, I still make my coffee this way.
We are currently investigating other methods of making coffee onboard, including the Aeropress, which works something like a French press to make espresso. Interestingly, it's made by the same company that developed the far-flying Aerobie flying disc.
Drinking more coffee can lead to a longer life, new studies say
One study surveyed more than 520,000 people in 10 European countries, making it the largest study to date on coffee and mortality, and found that drinking more coffee could significantly lower a person's risk of mortality.
The second studywas more novel, as it focused on nonwhite populations. After surveying over 185,000 African-Americans, Native Americans, Hawaiians, Japanese-Americans, Latinos and whites, the researchers found that coffee increases longevity across various races.
People who drank two to four cups a day had an 18% lower risk of death compared with people who did not drink coffee, according to the study. These findings are consistentwith previous studies that had looked at majority white populations, said Veronica Wendy Setiawan, associate professor of preventative medicine at USC's Keck School of Medicine, who led the study on nonwhite populations.
The study on European countries revealed an inverse association between coffee and liver disease, suicide in men, cancer in women, digestive diseases and circulatory diseases. Those who drank three or more cups a day had a lower risk for all-cause death than people who did not drink coffee.
The fact that we saw the same relationships in different countries is kind of the implication that its something about coffee rather than its something about the way that coffee is prepared or the way it's drunk, he said.
The biological benefits and caveats
Coffee is a complex mixture of compounds, some of which have been revealed in laboratories to have biological effects, Gunter said.
Both studies separated smokers from nonsmokers, since smoking is known to reduce lifespan and is linked to various deceases. However, they found that coffee had inverse effects on mortality for smokers too.
Even if it was in some way true, it doesn't make sense to me, because by smoking, you increase your mortality several-fold. Then, if you reduce it by 10% drinking coffee, give me a break, said Ascherio, who was not involved in the study.
I think it's a dangerous proposition because it suggests that a smoker can counteract the effects of smoking by drinking coffee, which is borderline insane.
The studies complement work that has been done on coffee and mortality, he said, and it has been reasonably documented that coffee drinkers have a lower risk of death.
I think that the solid conclusion is that if you're a coffee drinker, keep drinking your coffee and be happy, Ascherio said. And if you're not? I think you can go on drinking your tea or water without a problem.
Meanwhile, Gunter and Setiawan stand a bit more firmly on coffee as a health benefit.
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