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the-sloth-woman · 2 years ago

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Under the Surface Chapter Four: Players

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Part four of my Titanic Fic series! If you haven't read this before (or need a refresher, I know I did when working on this) I highly encourage you to check out the previous chapters! As always, thank you to @cattestfanciest for being my beta reader and for letting me bother him late at night when I have story ideas.

Words: 7122

Summary: After spending the last few decades studying in England, Alrick’s father sends for him to come to America. They just so happen to book tickets on the RMS Titanic, unaware that they’re about to be part of one of the biggest events in history…

Lilly passed the afternoon before Alrick’s poker game pacing their stateroom. She had spent most of the day in a state of constant worry. There was no conceivable way Alrick wouldn’t end the night without pissing off every wealthy man aboard the Titanic. Sleeping with their wives was a low blow, but taking their money was the icing on the cake.

She had thought of a thousand dangerous scenarios by the time dinner rolled around. Visions of guns, bullets, wayward forks, dinner knives, and holy water danced in her head. Some of these thoughts were utterly ridiculous- there was no possible way that John Jacob Astor was both a millionaire and an ordained priest- but she couldn’t keep these horrible thoughts from coming. At dinner, her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped her spoon in her punch romaine twice, earning her a glare from one of the ladies across the table.

“Maybe I should go with you,” she said for the third time. “What are they going to do, throw me out? I’d like to see them try.”

Alrick sat at the mahogany table in their room rolling his cigarettes. He carefully measured out a line of tobacco onto the paper before tapping the excess away. “And make a scene? A proper upper-class lady would know better than to embarrass her husband like that.”

She frowned. “Then perhaps I could wear a disguise…” she paused in front of the mirror over the mantle. It would take some effort to bind her breasts down flat, but it wouldn’t be impossible. The biggest struggle would be to find masculine clothes that fit her. She had only packed ladies’ clothes in her steamer trunk for the voyage itself, everything else was in the cargo hold down below.

A plan was beginning to take shape in her mind. First, she would have to sneak down to the cargo hold to get more of her masculine clothes, maybe even one of Alrick’s spare dinner jackets. Then, she would return to her stateroom, bind her chest, and don her disguise. She’d have to get a hat to hide her hair. Then she could join the men in the smoking room and make sure nothing terrible happened to Alrick.

“But where to get a fake mustache this late in the evening…?” she mused aloud.

Alrick snorted from the table. “Lilly, you’re being ridiculous. It’s going to be fine.”

“But what if it’s not?” she whirled around. “What if this is the one time that things go wrong and I’m not around to help you?”

“Then I can take care of myself,” he slid his new cigarettes into their pewter case and snapped it shut. “You’re acting like I’m incapable of protecting myself. I am a demon Lilly, I’m a lot more durable than you are.”

“I know!” She threw her hands in the air. “I know, I know. I just-“ she took a deep breath. “It’s my job to worry about these things.”

“Take a night off.”

She made a face. “That’s easy for you to say, you’re allowed to take breaks.”

He scoffed with indignation. “I’m sure my father would say differently. Come,” he pushed out the opposite chair. “Sit with me, I’ll teach you to play poker”

“I don’t think I can focus on cards right now-“

“Sit,” the word was a command more than an invitation.

The table creaked slightly as Lilly slid into her chair. “Yes, Alrick,” she said, her toes already tapping on the floor.

“Good,” he withdrew a deck of cards. He shuffled them in quick, smooth motions. “Are we playing poker or twenty-one?”

Lilly blinked. “There’s a difference?”

He shook his head. “Your naïveté astounds me.”

She huffed. “It’s not my fault I don’t spend my evenings in shady pubs getting drunk with strangers.”

“Oh don’t get your corset in a twist, I’m only teasing,” he dealt them each one card facedown and another one faceup. “We’ll start with twenty-one, it’s easier. The goal of the game is to get as close to twenty-one as possible without going over. Aces can be played as either one or eleven, so keep that in mind.”

Lilly frowned. She picked up both cards and saw that she had a Jack of clubs and a five of spades. “What if my cards don’t add up to twenty-one?”

“You’re not supposed to tell me that,” he chuckled and set the remaining deck to the side. “But if you want more cards you tap the table with two fingers or tell me that you want a hit. I’ll be the dealer, so you’re playing against me.”

She nodded and passed her two cards between her hands. “Okay, then I want a hit.”

Alrick slid her a two of hearts. “Do you want another card?”

“Um…” she furrowed her brow. The two brought her total up to seventeen. It was only four away from twenty-one. Was that close enough?

She glanced at Alrick’s card, a three of hearts. “I think I’ll keep what I have,” she said, delicately folding her cards on the table.

Alrick nodded and flipped over his other card. “Eight of clubs. As the dealer, I have to play until I reach seventeen. Right now I only have eleven, so-” he set the top card down, a four of diamonds. “Fifteen, not quite.” He withdrew another card from the deck and set it beside his stack. “A six of clubs. I’m at twenty-one exactly.”

Lilly turned over her losing cards with a sigh. “How is anyone supposed to win when they play against you?”

“You shouldn’t have played it safe,” he tapped his four of diamonds. “If you had taken one more card you would have beaten me.”

“Yes, but how was I supposed to know that?”

“You don’t,” he grinned and began shuffling the deck again. “Sometimes you have to take risks.”

“But what if I had gone over twenty-one? I would have lost.”

“Ah, that’s exactly how you can tell a good card player from a bad one.” Alrick dealt them a new set of cards. “Most men don’t play to win money, they play to keep themselves from losing.”

“That only works if you have a lot of money to lose.”

He shook his head. “You’re thinking about it all wrong. Gambling isn’t that much different from playing a game of chess. You want to play your opponent more than you want to play what’s in your hand.”

She frowned. “But you hate chess.”

“Tch, I don’t hate it,” he rolled his eyes. “I just don’t spend hours obsessing over it like you do.”

She shrugged. Chess was one of the few hobbies Lilly was allowed to have in her free time. She didn’t often have anyone else to play with her, so she would map out matches in her head before even reaching the board. Then she would analyze different moves that she could make and try to change the outcome. “It keeps me busy.”

“I’m sure.” Alrick leaned back in his chair. “Tell me, how are you enjoying your vacation from your responsibilities this week?”

“What do you mean?”

“On the Titanic,” he gestured to their stateroom. “It isn’t very often that you get to pretend to be an upper-class lady. What do you think about how the aristocracy lives?”

“Oh.” she shifted in her seat. “It’s very nice. Everything on the Titanic is so lovely, and I’m lucky to be able to wear such nice clothes and eat such nice meals.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Now tell me what you really think.”

“T-that is what I really think!”

“Oh?” He nonchalantly turned over his cards. “Is that all it takes to make an aristocratic life worthwhile, loveliness?”

“Not exactly, I just-” she sighed at another losing hand before tossing her cards onto the table. “If I complain I’m going to sound ungrateful.”

“Not to me you won’t.”

“But you’re the one who bought my ticket-”

“And? I asked, that means I want an honest answer.”

She bit her lip. “Well… I meant what I said about everything on the ship being nice. But I never realized how… How little there is to do as an upper-class lady.”

“To do?”

“Yes.” Lilly crossed her arms over her chest. “I hate to say it, but I’m just so… bored of upper-class life. For example, I’ve already been to the library and the lounges. There’s only so much time I can spend reading. After promenading three times today I went to the gymnasium to see if I could flex my muscles, but two girls stopped to talk about how unladylike it would be to use any of the weights in there.”

Alrick threw his head back and laughed. “Of course not. Proper ladies wouldn’t be caught dead lifting weights or using a row machine. They’re too busy judging everyone else around them.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this upper-class stuff.”

“Of course not, you’re a servant. But-” he waggled his eyebrows at her, “I guarantee none of the other fine young women on this ship will be able to hustle cards like you will.”

She blushed. “You can’t say that until I can beat you.”

“Sorry Lil, it’ll be a cold day in Hell when that happens.”

“So I only have to wait for winter?”

He laughed again. “Since when did you become this funny? I don’t remember you being this witty at home.”

Her eyes flitted to the table. She wasn’t usually allowed to speak this much at his father’s castle. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “Maybe your bad influence is rubbing off on me.”

“I like it,” he beamed. “This ship is turning you into a whole different person, Lil. I can’t wait to see what else you’ve been hiding from me.”

“Prepare to be disappointed,” she smiled half-heartedly and tucked a curl behind her ear. “At my core, I’m very, very boring.”

“Oh yes, the most boring Nephilim I’ve ever met. Certainly more boring than the thousands of humans on this ship. I’ve met countless humans in my lifetime and only one Nephilim, and somehow being over two-hundred years old makes you the most uninteresting of them all.”

“Okay, okay, I get your point. Don’t make me throw my cards at you.”

He held his hands up in the shape of a goalpost. “Make sure to aim away from my face.”

Lilly covered her mouth in an attempt to hide her sudden onset of giggles. It was so easy talking with the prince. She had known he was charming- there wasn’t a young lady in his father’s court who didn’t know that. But she had always thought Alrick’s ease with women came from one-liners designed to make them swoon at his feet. He could do that to her with no problem, but there was more to his charm than simple flattery. Alrick was easy to talk to. Laughing with him was effortless.

She felt a warm buzz settle around her heart. For a moment, Lilly let herself imagine what it would be like to spend every night with him like this. She could see hours filled with laughter, secret smiles passed between the two of them like handwritten notes. The halls of the castle would feel less foreboding, less empty, with someone to wander them with. She let the fantasy carry her further under; imagining taking meals with him, swapping books in the library. She wouldn’t have to sneak around the shadows of the castle to watch him paint. No, she could live freely beside him, out in the open. As an equal.

The clock on the mantle chimed. Lilly jumped in her seat, fantasies dissolving into thin air.

“It appears my time has come,” Alrick dusted the stray tobacco from his pants and stood. He was still dressed in his dinner suit. The black velvet set off the crimson in his eyes, and for a moment Lilly felt as if she was looking up at a man made of solid smoke.

“Right,” she stood along, feeling awkward at the empty table. “I’ll be waiting until you get back.”

“You mean worrying until I get back.” He shook his head. “Lilly, I’m giving you an order. You are forbidden from sitting there and doing nothing while I play cards.”

The protest bubbled to her lips but he silenced it with one hand. “Do something. Get out of the room. Go to the gym or the library. I don’t care about whatever it is, but you’re not allowed to sit there.”

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “It might be a bit late for the gym, but I can always visit the Turkish bath.”

He whined playfully. “Without me? Maybe I should skip the card games after all.”

Her face flushed. “Alrick, they wouldn’t even let you into the ladies' bath.”

“Ah, but you’ll lend me one of your dresses for that, yeah? I’m sure I can squeeze into a corset for a few minutes.”

He was being a cad again. “Go, go,” she practically shooed him out of the cabin. “Before I kill you myself.”

He laughed. “Like you’d even raise a hand against me. Don’t worry Lil,” he gave her a wink. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

The first-class smoking lounge was only slightly more interesting after hours. The walls were decorated with stained-glass windows, each one illuminated by an electric sconce. Alrick paused before a window that depicted an old sailboat passing through layers of ocean waves. He nodded once in approval. He liked the new fashion of decorating saloons or pubs with stained glass. Biblical or religious scenes were becoming less common, and it was refreshing to see colored windows be used in spaces other than churches or mosques. Being forbidden from crossing church thresholds, Alrick hadn’t been able to appreciate its artistry until now. Perhaps he’d have to learn how it was made and try making his own designs.

He left the window behind and began scanning the smoking room. Stewards flitted around carrying trays of drinks to tables full of upper-class patrons. The air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke and freshly opened brandy.

That was his target, something to drink. There had to be a bar nearby stocked with alcohol. There was no point in playing cards against humans if he couldn’t enjoy himself at least a little bit.

A few of the other gentlemen nodded at him as he walked the perimeter of the smoking lounge. He would have to return their greetings at some point, but for now, he was on a mission. He had hoped to see an open bar in the back of the lounge with an easily-manipulated barkeeper but found no such luck.

Shit, he cursed inwardly. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

He circled the back of the lounge and found an empty table. A steward was at his side in minutes, as well trained as a dog. “Good evening, sir,” he said. He carried a small humidor on a tray and presented it to Alrick with a flourish. “Can I interest you in any fine cigars tonight? Or perhaps a glass of brandy?”

“Perhaps,” Alrick gave the steward a wry smile. “I was wondering if I could have a look at your wine selection, actually.”

“I can list all of our wines for you, sir. We have a particularly popular Piedmont red-”

“I’m sure you do,’ he cut the steward off, “But I’d like to see the wines myself before making a decision.”

The steward bristled a little. “I’m sorry, sir, but passengers aren’t permitted in the crew’s stations. I’d be more than happy to read you our wine list, or perhaps offer you a sample.”

It took all of Alrick’s carefully cultivated self-control not to reach across the table and throttle the man. “You misunderstand me. I want to appraise the entire selection before making my choice.” The steward opened his mouth to offer a stern protest but Alrick cut him off. “I can see that nothing I can say will sway you. Perhaps if I use another method of persuasion…”

He withdrew a crisp twenty-pound note and flashed it to the steward. Alrick had no idea how much money this man made in tips, but surely this had to be several times more than his ship’s salary.

The steward’s face changed in an instant. “Of course, sir,” he beamed, quickly pocketing the money. “If you’ll follow me.”

Alrick followed the steward to a small alcove at the rear of the room. He once again wished that women were allowed in the smoking lounge. It would have been much easier for him to charm a young stewardess into letting him see their wine selection. She would taste better too.

The steward waved his hand at the cramped wine rack. “As you wish, sir. Here’s our private selection of wines. I could recommend a decent bottle of champagne, although I fail to see how I couldn’t have done so in the smoking room.”

Alrick gave the small storage a cursory glance. The ambient noise from the smoking room was the only sound that passed between the two men. He could hear the other stewards serving passengers cocktails. It would be moments before someone intruded upon him, so he would have to be quick.

He proceeded to pull two bottles of red wine from the top shelf. He turned them over, not quite recognizing their labels. “Are these any good?”

“Of course, sir. All the wine on the Titanic is of the finest quality.”

“Excellent. I want a taste,” he pushed the wine toward the steward. “Of both.”

Alrick could practically feel the steward’s indignation as he uncorked the first bottle. He poured Alrick a small tasting glass and presented it to the prince without a word. Alrick drank it and nodded once. “It’ll do.”

“Sir, this is highly irregular. I would be more than happy to bring you a taste in the lounge, but passengers are not allowed-”

Enough with this farce. “Look here,” he instructed. The steward glanced up, his unremarkable features twisted into a scowl. Alrick imagined what he must look like to this servant. A demanding aristocrat, probably one intending on sneaking bottles of wine to his cabin to feed his drinking habit. What a pathetic caricature this human version of himself was. A man so lost to his vices that he resorted to bribing stewards for drink.

No matter. Alrick’s true intentions were for a far more noble pursuit.

He snapped his fingers, giving the steward a jump. He stared deeply into the man’s dark eyes, willing his mind to give way. “You’re not going to make a sound,” he instructed. Alrick used the tenor of his voice to tug at this man’s consciousness, pulling it free from his own train of thought. Hypnotism wasn’t a difficult task for an immortal, but it required some finesse nonetheless. You wanted to nudge a human into doing your bidding, not into forgetting how to speak.

The steward’s face began to go slack as he fell under Alrick’s spell. “You will speak of this to no one. Make one sound, one peep, and I’ll kill you. Understand?”

The man nodded wordlessly. Alrick uncorked the remaining wine bottle and took a large gulp. Human wine, like all human food, was tolerable by taste only. Alrick could eat endlessly at a buffet and never sate the hunger that resided deep inside of him. He could drink barrels and barrels of human wine and never feel drunk. Both lacked the ingredient necessary to sustain a demon’s body.

Blood.

Moving faster than the human eye could perceive, Alrick grabbed the steward’s arm. He brought the man’s wrist to his lips and bit down savagely. Blood spurted into his mouth. It was thick, rich, and tasted similar to cedarwood. The steward unconsciously squeaked in fear. His body was a prisoner to the control Alrick held over his mind, and he could do little more than watch helplessly as Alrick held the man’s bleeding wrist over the two open wine bottles.

Alrick waited until the bottles had been refilled with blood before pulling the steward’s arm away. He licked the wound with his tongue, wrinkling his nose at the taste. It was so ordinary, so… uninspiring. Women tended to taste sweeter than men, and they were easier for Alrick to charm. But even compared to the few other men that Alrick had tasted, this one was so bland. Nothing like the blood that was waiting for him back in his stateroom, the scent that had been haunting his dreams for centuries-

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

He swished one of the bottles and took an experimental sip. The wine was improved by the addition of the human’s blood, but not by much. This would pale in comparison to true demon alcohols. True demon wine required decades to ferment. Some varieties were made from the blood of virgins, others focused on young men. It was all a matter of personal taste, of course. This was by no means good, but it would get him drunk enough.

“Serve me glasses from these bottles only,” Alrick instructed, recorking the wine. “Only you are to touch this wine, and if anyone asks tell them it’s been saved for a special patron. Do you understand?”

The steward nodded, his eyes unfocused. Alrick moved to snap his fingers and remove the human from his hypnosis. He paused, his other hand snatching to grab the twenty-pound note from the man’s pocket. No use in paying the man when Alrick had done all the damn work.

He tugged the steward’s sleeve down to cover his wrist before leaving the servant’s alcove. There would be a bruise and some distinctive marks, but he wouldn’t remember how he’d gotten them.

A moment later he emerged from the servant’s alcove, the befuddled steward trailing not far behind. Alrick could hear him adjust the sleeves of his uniform but he paid the man no mind. He served his purpose, and with any luck, he wouldn’t remember their encounter whatsoever.

“Mr. Rosenfeld!”

Mr. Christman sat at a small table under one of the stained glass windows. He set his Murphy cocktail down and waved the demon prince over. “There you are. I’d thought that you’d changed your mind about this evening.”

Alrick took the opposite chair. “Of course not. I needed to take care of some personal matters before meeting you here.” He waved to the steward he had bitten and the man dutifully brought him a glass of wine. Alrick took a sip before turning back to Mr. Christman. “Did you bring your sketches?”

The man turned sheepish. He set a slim briefcase on the table and turned it towards Alrick. “Are you certain you want to look at them?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.” He withdrew several pages of paper from the case. Alrick flipped through them slowly, pausing to look over each one. Each drawing was done in black ink. “These aren’t bad,” he began. “You have a good grasp of basic anatomy, although there are some parts that need work. Do you have a pencil?”

Mr. Christman pulled one from the briefcase and handed it over. Alrick began sketching over the existing drawing lightly. “This is where the proportions should be,” he said. “You have a very distinctive style. It reminds me of those pictures in Penny Dreadfuls.”

“I know,” Mr. Christman sighed with disdain. “I can’t seem to get rid of it. Everything I draw looks the same.”

Alrick shrugged. “That’s the mark of being an artist. We hate our own work above all others.”

“No, no,” Mr. Christman. “That’s not true. You may think that way, but my art is legitimately terrible.”

Alrick snorted. “It’s not terrible. You only think that because you drew it.” He picked up what was arguably the best of his pieces. It was a portrait of a woman looking over her shoulder, her black hair spilling across the nape of her neck. Her lips were open in an expression of surprise, yet her eyes looked almost impassive. As if she was putting on the expression because she was expected to.

He pointed to the drawing. “If someone else had drawn this, would you still think it was rubbish?”

Mr. Christman shrugged, not meeting Alrick’s eyes. “Probably.”

He rolled his eyes and set the drawing back in the pile. That was the problem with humans. They were too stubborn to see what was in front of them. Alrick had seen it a hundred times. He’d seen painters and artisans scoff at some of their finest works, works that showed true mastery. Pieces that Alrick, in his endless amount of time to study, could never hope to equal. It was eternally frustrating.

He looked back at Mr. Christman’s drawing, his temper briefly flaring. How was it that he could spend decades studying the lines of the human form and still be unable to make something as honest as this amateur’s work? Alrick remembered sketching the human maids that his father employed in secret, swearing to cut out their tongues if they told Burai what he was up to. He studied anatomy, composition, the balance of light and darkness. Painting, sculpture, charcoal, watercolors. He could capture a young woman’s physical form perfectly, but none of the essence that made her a living creature. His art was never bad, it couldn’t be bad after two hundred years of study, but it couldn’t compare to human genius.

Perhaps the difference was fundamental. Alrick wouldn’t ever be able to make anything as beautiful or inspiring as a human could because he lacked a human soul.

“If you truly despise your art we could dispose of it.” His voice was cold. “Toss it in the fireplace over there. I’m certain it would make good kindling.”

“N-no,” Mr. Christman set his hand over the drawings. His voice trembled as he spoke. “I think I’ll hang on to them a little longer.”

Alrick blinked. He shook himself a little bit, his temper dampening. Fuck, he sounded just like his father. The realization made him feel sick to his stomach, and he took a generous gulp of wine to force the feeling away. “I’m only joking, of course.”

“Right,” even so, Mr. Christman tucked his drawing back into the briefcase, his voice missing its friendly cadence.

They sat in silence. Alrick stared into the rim of his wine glass, his mood darkening by the second. That overbearing old man. This trip was supposed to be his chance to live without Burai’s constant scrutiny. He was safe here from his father’s court spies, safe to act and do whatever he pleased. But even now his father’s words found their way into his mind, twisting and turning his thoughts until they were no longer his.

For a moment he pitied the steward under his mental control. Was this what it was like to lose your own thoughts?

“Could I trouble you for a smoke?”

Mr. Christman’s question snapped him from his melancholy. Alrick pulled out his pewter cigarette case and handed it over wordlessly. The other man thanked him and pressed a new cigarette to his lips. “I hope I’m not being too forward with this, but is your wife expecting you back any time soon?”

Alrick shrugged. “I doubt it. I told her to go enjoy herself this evening, although I doubt she’s doing much of that.”

“Oh?”

“She worries too much. Probably about me gambling away the family fortune. Or conversely, stealing someone else’s,” a light smile touched his lips. “She doesn’t know how well I can control myself.”

What Alrick didn’t say was that his self-control was nearly at its limit. Part of the reason he agreed to gamble tonight was that sharing a small room with Lilly was driving him mad. There was nowhere he could escape her sweet, tantalizing scent in that stateroom. He could smell traces of her in the furniture, the carpeting, and even his own clothes. It wasn’t so bad at the castle where he saw her perhaps once or twice an evening, but now it was insufferable.

What he wouldn’t give to taste some of his Nephilim’s blood. He thought it would be easy. She liked him well enough, that much was painfully evident. Alrick knew how to charm women into letting him near their necks. He tried it on the first day of their journey, offering to let her share his room. But she rebuked him! She pushed away every one of his advances, her smell taunting him as she did so. This was supposed to be his chance to do what he wanted with her without any repercussions, and yet she was what stood in his way.

Maddening. He balled his hand into a fist under the table. Perhaps he should just give in and attack her when he returned. Alrick imagined himself returning after the game. Lilly would be waiting for him at the table, her hair still damp from her bath. She would rise to greet him and Alrick would return the gesture by knocking Lilly to the floor. He would pin her fragile wrists above her head and hold her to the ground with his body. Her red hair would fan out behind her head, a few curls coming loose from the fall. She was strong, but she couldn’t overpower him in such close captivity. He imagined himself clamping one hand over her mouth, just in case she was frightened enough to scream. Then he would rip her cream nightgown away from her throat and sink his aching fangs into her. Her blood would be hot, almost burning the inside of his mouth. Finally, finally, he’d find some relief from the hunger that plagued him. And she would taste… She would taste like-

He sighed inwardly, annoyed by his fantasy. He had imagined what Lilly would taste like hundreds of times, yet he hadn’t the faintest idea of what the actual act would be like. Thoughts like this turned his wine sour and only served to make his fangs ache.

He knew his plan wouldn’t work in the slightest. She would probably be asleep by the time he returned to the cabin. Besides, it wouldn’t be the same if he forced himself upon her. Alrick wanted Lilly to want him. He wanted her to wrap her arms around him and draw him in against her. To willingly bare her throat for his fangs. To need him as much as he needed to find his release inside her.

He thought she did, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“Mr. Christman! There you are, we had been wondering where you had gone off to.”

Two men broke Alrick free from his mental torment. The man who spoke was short- shorter than Alrick, and stocky. He wore a bowler hat and had a thick mustache, like a walrus’s. The other man had his hands thrust into his pockets, his eyes darting to Alrick as if appraising a rabid dog. His features were unremarkable, a human head full of dark brown hair and dark brown eyes.

If he noticed their apprehension, Mr. Christman did not acknowledge it. “Ah! Yes, so glad that you could have joined us.” He stood and eagerly shook their hands. “This is Mr. Thompson and Mr. Morris. Gentleman, I’d like you to meet Mr. Rosenfeld, I’ve invited him to play with us tonight.”

“He looks a little young to be playing,” Mr. Morris interrupted.

“Eternal youth is one of my better curses,” Alrick replied with a sip of wine. “I only hope to look this good when I’m your age.”

Mr. Thompson let out a peal of laughter. “You’ve picked up a sharp one!” he said, clapping Mr. Christman on the shoulder. He sat down beside him and called a steward over to freshen their drinks. The other man twittered around for a moment, expecting Alrick to make room for him at the table. When he did no such thing, Mr. Morris awkwardly sat between Alrick and Mr. Christman, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Mr. Morris pulled a well-worn deck of playing cards from his pocket. He began shuffling the deck in practiced motions. “What are we playing?” he asked gruffly.

“Big-two?” Mr. Chrismtan suggested.

Alrick blinked. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of that one before.”

“You always want to play that,” Mr. Thompson chortled. “It’s easy to learn, sonny. Mr. Morris will deal out the whole deck, and we’ll take turns playing hands. You’re not too green to have played poker before, right?”

Alrick opened his mouth, a sharp retort hot on his tongue. He’d been hustling poker for at least half a century. But he stopped, choosing to smile with mock innocence. “Once or twice.”

Mr. Thompson laughed, his stomach shaking with the motion. “Whoever gets the three of clubs starts. If I had the three of clubs I could play it in a set of two cards, called a pair. You can use pairs, three of a kind, four of a kind, and then there’s a special hand-”

“A straight flush?” Alrick held out his empty wine glass. The steward he’d enchanted was at his side in an instant, refilling it for him without a word.

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Thompson raised an eyebrow at Alrick after the steward left.

“I tip well,” he explained. Alrick sipped the wine, letting the blood coat his tongue. “But do go on.”

“Must be remarkably well for that service,” he muttered, quietly enough that the other humans couldn’t hear it. “But as I was saying, you play poker hands until you run out of cards. The highest hand denomination takes the pile, and twos are played high.”

“I think I’ve got it, thanks.”

“Good,” Mr. Morris dealt the cards unceremoniously. His eyes did not meet Alrick’s as he slid the cards across the table.

Interesting, he thought.

Feeling the tension, Mr. Christman cleared his throat. “Mr. Thompson owns a small gold mine out west in the states. He and I met the first night aboard and have been meeting to play poker every night since.”

“Yes, but I won’t shed a tear if you lose a bit of money tonight,” Mr. Thompson grinned. “I’ve not quite forgiven the first night you beat me.”

“Fascinating,” Alrick said dryly. Why was it that as soon as men were alone together the first thing they ever talked about was business?

“I believe I was only twenty ahead of you from last time,” Mr. Christman laughed. “And Mr. Morris here is the heir to a railroad fortune. He and his wife are returning home from a holiday, I believe.”

Mr. Morris grunted. He took a sip of his drink and glowered at Alrick over the rim of his glass. Someone must have pissed in his brandy, and it certainly wasn’t Alrick.

“And how did you meet Mr. Christman here?”

“Oh,” Alrick grinned impishly. “He was flirting with my wife.”

“I-I was not!” Mr. Christman spluttered. “I was simply inquiring about her Sherlock Holmes book-”

“Isn’t that what they all say?” He rolled his eyes theatrically, earning another laugh from Mr. Thompson. “I was planning on killing him for the infraction, but that wouldn’t have been very polite of me.”

Mr. Christman’s face was a bright shade of red. He tried hiding it behind one hand, earning a round of laughter from the table. Laughter from all the members but one. Mr. Morris’s eyes bored into Alrick’s face, his expression hard and unmoving.

“Didn’t think you’d have a wife,” he grumbled, “With the way you came outta that room with the steward.”

The laughter at the table died immediately. In a fraction of a second, Alrick realized why this man had seemed familiar. He had been standing next to the woman he had taken to bed the first night aboard the Titanic. Before he had been rudely interrupted by Lilly, she had mentioned something about being afraid of her husband finding out. That he was a brute of a man.

Alrick smiled so widely at the realization that he almost laughed. “Oh, that? I was just making sure that he had my favorite brand of wine in stock.” He avoided the man’s thinly veiled attempt to get a rise out of him and held out his wine glass. It was refilled immediately. “I made sure to get two bottles of it for myself. You can try it of course,” he held the glass out across the table. The blood gave the wine a slightly different viscosity than regular liquid. “Although it may be too bitter for your liking.”

Mr. Morris grumbled wordlessly. Alrick returned the glass to his lips and took a peek at his cards. It didn't particularly matter to him if he lost tonight’s game. He’d already won against this man. Besides, if he left early he knew he’d find Mr. Morris’s wife alone in her bed. She probably wouldn’t object to Alrick climbing in beside her, promising to give her one good memory on the Titanic.

His thoughts turned briefly to Lilly’s disappointment if she had found out. The idea turned sour in his head and he banished it away. What did it matter who he spent his time with? She was turning him away, it wasn’t his fault if he had to find someone else who would invite him into their arms. Besides, it was for a good cause. To humiliate this asshole sitting beside him.

Alrick deliberately lost the first few rounds of cards. He made simple mistakes playing his high cards too early in the game. It took him a bit to grasp the full strategy. High cards were best played at the end of a round to gain the advantage of going first. He could force the other men into playing their good hands early by letting out an ace or deliberately playing a low pair. He didn’t allow himself to lose more than a hundred dollars, but he wasn’t playing it for the money. He wanted to clean the table with Mr. Morris’s gruff face.

He began baiting the other men into making foolish mistakes by being careless with his money. Mr. Thompson was the first to fall for this trick, eagerly playing his high cards in an attempt to win Alrick’s stacks of twenties. Alrick was nonplussed at his efforts, how could he be when he kept getting dealt all four of the twos in the deck? Mr. Christman, on the other hand, turned out to be a formidable opponent. While luck wasn’t on his side like it was Alrick’s, he seemed to understand the layout of the game better than anyone else at the table. The majority of the money won was passed back and forth between him and Alrick.

“It would appear that you’ve brought a sharp to the table,” Mr. Thompson muttered under his breath. His boisterous laughter dimmed with the increasing number of games he lost. “If this kind of behavior continues, we may have to end our friendly game early.”

Mr. Christman stopped winning quite so much after that.

Each time a new round began Alrick stuck his wine glass out for a refill. His hypnosis on the steward didn’t waver, and he was faithful in making sure Alrick’s glass never ran empty. He’d lost count of the number of glasses he’d drunk, but he knew the second bottle of wine was opened sometime during the latter half of the evening. The steward was right, both bottles were decent. They would have been better if his blood was more flavorful, but that was hardly the winemaker’s fault.

Alrick tossed his losing hand on the table, letting Mr. Thompson win a measly ten dollars from him. His tongue felt thick in his mouth as he asked “S-shall we begin another round?”

Mr. Christman rubbed the side of his temple. “I think it’s about time for me to head in, gentlemen. I’d like to get breakfast tomorrow before service starts.”

“But the night’s still young,” Mr. Thompson had regained his good humor after Mr. Christman’s luck turned. “Why don’t we play a different game?”

Mr. Christman smiled weakly. “And let you win more of my money? I think not.”

He stood and stretched his shoulders. Alrick watched him gather his briefcase before moving to stand himself. The blood rushed to his head, and he grabbed the back of his chair to steady himself. The table seemed so very far away, but the longer he looked at it the closer it seemed to get.

“Whoa!” An arm was thrown over his shoulder. He was tugged upright, his face swimming dangerously close to an empty cocktail glass on the table. Alrick blinked. How did that happen?

“I think-” he began, the word ‘think’ getting caught somewhere in his throat. “That ish time for me to return to my shtateroom as well.” Alrick grabbed handfuls of his winnings and stuffed them in his pocket. “Goodnight, gentlemen.”

The arm that steadied him guided him to the edge of the smoking room door. Alrick almost tripped on the way out, his hand flying out to grab the door jam. Mr. Christman was beside him, and Alrick wondered if he’d gotten there before him.

“Careful,” Mr. Christman hissed. “You’re going to bash your head in at this rate.”

Alrick threw back his head and laughed. “T-there’s nothing on this ship that could do me in,” he grinned. “N’t unless s’mone got reeeeeally crafty with their fork.”

Mr. Christman rolled his eyes. He helped Alrick stumble back to his stateroom.

“Y’know,” Alrick stopped. He swayed against the door. “You should shtop letting other men win.”

Mr. Christman blonked. “Pardon me?”

“Mr. Thompson,” Alrick couldn't help but slur the man’s name. “You let him beat you f-four times! Knock that shit off,” he wagged his finger. “No- no one wants ta’ win if it’s jus’ given to them. Takes the sport outta it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yesh you do!” He hiccuped. “Lilly does th’ same shit to me at chesh. I mean shesh. Chess,” he spat. “Sh’ thinks I don’ know, but I do. Ev’ry time. So knock it off.”

Mr. Christman blinked at Alrick’s drunken intonation. “Right…”

“I’m sherious!” He hiccupped. “Tha’ man’s not worth loisin’ to anyway. You’re better off winnin on your terms.”

Mr. Christman cracked a smile before guiding Alrick inside his stateroom. “But Mr. Rosenfeld, I’m perfectly content to lose on my own terms too.”

#under the surface #alrick #lilly #i feel like this chapter took me ten thousand years to write #it doesn't help that I had school while working on this #but we got this done!!#now to wait for the five notes hehehehe

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adiabolikpastel · 1 year ago

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I'm not sure if you got the question I sent you the other day, so I'll send it again, (I hope this doesn't bother you, if so ignore this 😣).

If really this guy Carnelian was so dangerous and powerful as to make all the clans make an alliance to kill him, how do you imagine a battle between Karlheinz, Burai, Ajax and the king of the Wolf clan vs Carnelian? I guess it would be a fucking epic fight, because I can even imagine Alrick, Alexander and Shu helping their fathers in battle! Even MC/Yui could give them blood since from what I know, Cordelia's blood is like an elixir that heals and makes the one who drinks it more powerful.

Oh gosh! I sorry, tumblr must have eaten it! I am happy that you sent this in again, since I didn't get it before. You will never bother me with ask~ always feel free to send them in!

First off, thank you so much for mentioning him by name! I am so honored that you remembered and even used Alexander in your ask! Ah, it means a lot to me that you know his name and that you see him in the blog. Thank you for that!

Okay the rest will be under the cut, I just needed to get that out! Thank you for this ask I love these world building ask! I have also reached out to @the-sloth-woman to ensure facts for her characters.

How do you imagine a battle between Karlheinz, Burai, Ajax and the king of the Wolf clan vs Carnelian?

I think that this battle - at least for the cannon in my own universe of Excruciating Duplicity - would serve as a catalyst for what is to come. From what I have seen / been told about the Carnelian Blood story line - it feels like some kind of battle is what it is trying to lead up to. Putting a fight between all of the major demon lords vs. Carnelian in the near coming future.

To that extent - I don't think it would only fall to Shu, Alrick and Alexander (as well as the Wolf's son! - Eberto perhaps is that was his son). At least not for our DL cannon boys. It will probably be something that needs all of the Sakamaki / Mukami / Tsukinami boys to be apart of - because it would most definitely involve Yui.

The battle itself, is hard to say. From the bits of information that I have learned about Carnelian himself (which BTW, the tragedy of this man, my goodness he's been through it), I don't think that he would have the man power to do a big war like battle. He barely has the 5 sons - unless he comes up with a way to amass an army. So to that, I think it would come down to a literal 4v1 situation.

Where Burai, Karl, Ajax & Gottfried (dead in cannon, but so is Burai - we play with the timeline here), are fighting Carnelian and the boys are fighting his sons. If there were any armies or followers outside of his son's that is where Alexander, Alrick & Eberto would come in - along with any other siblings from the Adlers or soldiers.

As far as Yui's involvement, because I know she is technically the MC of the cannon - I am sure Carnelian will either take her or she will be simply support for the boy of her choice. I don't think she herself will do much, but she would be present. Idk if she would be conscious though. I can see Callista there as well, doing her part to either keep Yui safe once returned to the 'heros' or there for support.

But this battle would be one for the older generation, and what is most important for it in my cannon would be the affect it has moving forward.

The Catalyst

I believe that it would be from this battle that Gottfried would die. Out of all the lords, he would be the one to fall - and it would be Ajax's fault that it happened. While I am not sure what his royal bird brain does, it is form this that the major war begins to stem.

Burai, while not particularly close with anyone, is upset by the loss of Gottfried. Whether that be from not liking his son Eberto who follows after him - or simply the fact that once again Ajax proves to be worthless (probably more this reason). This battle, while won, spells the end of the old regime.

#ask mun #ask answered #excruciating duplicity #carnelian blood

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julianobungus · 1 year ago

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I came up with this idea back in the summer when we were discussing Phillip/Amelia ship. That was before you decided to take a break from writing long posts, and I thought I'd just write it when everything would befine, but this idea makes me suffer from brain rot, so I'm finally telling it.

So, this is a crossover of the Owl House and Infinity Train.

Philip, after returning to the human realm, recovers faster than in the canon. And he learns how much the world has changed. He is glad that humanity has created so many things without any magic, but the realization that his views are outdated, that magic is no longer considered evil, that witch hunters are not considered heroes, makes him feel very bad.

He studies everything that has happened over the centuries. This world is not the world that he left once. There are completely different problems in this world (Which he could solve with magic, but he can't even think about it). It makes him feel even worse. Some part of him wants to believe that all this is not true, some part of him wants to return to the Boiling Isles and continue to rule the witches, as he has done for many years, some part of him just wants to be a hero or at least a good person.

He uses the ability to turn into slime to get into different places and steal different things. He feels bad that he has to do this to people, but this is the only way. After some time, he decides to leave Gravesfield and move to another place that will not remind him of the home that is no longer there.

And that's how he gets on the Infinity Train. I think that Philip would be the first passenger whose number would cover the whole body immediately after getting on the Train.

This place amazes him, each car has its own separate world with different inhabitants. But he doesn't know what to do with them. The variety of these creatures reminds him of the inhabitants of Boiling Isles, but he knows that his actions on the Isles would be considered evil if he told anyone about them.

He remembers what he heard from the video from the Conductor, about the Denizens and about the essence of the number. All this sounds strange and so unlike what he managed to learn about the modern Human Realm. He's not going to just believe the words of some sphere. If he was naive, he would have been dead long ago. So, he decides to study the Train the same way he once studied the Boiling Isles.

Honestly, I'm not sure if he would have called his real name or called himself Belos. But he would act the same as in Elsewhere and Elsewhen. As Lilith said, “The confidence, the compliments. He says everything you want to hear.”

He wears his suit, he has bags with things from the Human Realm and he is ready for anything. And at some point, he meets Amelia. Maybe it was just a chance meeting, or maybe she was purposefully looking for him, a passenger with such a high number, after she saw him on one of the monitors in the Engine.

She is a human being just like him, so he asks for help. And Amelia is shocked to hear Alrick's voice. At first, she thinks that Philip is another Turtle Person who can transform into a human, like Hazel. But his number looks so real, unlike Hazel's number. She agrees to help Philip, simply because it is the only way to hear Alric's voice besides Aloysius. And it is more enjoyable for her to talk to a human than to a turtle.

What do you think about it? Oh, and I do not know where to put it, but Simon is alive and he has Catra as his partner. This ship still seems interesting to me

Wawawa I love this! For real, this was a delight to read. Philip finally meeting a human who kind've(??) understands him? He has no idea of the effect his voice has on Amelia though, not that she needs to tell him right now. Amelia herself honestly can't explain how it's happened, but she doesn't want to leave the guy who sounds so much like him - *and* is a human man, as a plus.

And don't you worry, Simatra is still very much alive in this lil joint AU. They're still travelling the train, with Simon having a high, body-spanning number, and Catra dreading the day he'll have to leave (she understands what happens now), although she doesn't really talk about that with him. Not right now, anyway.

imagine all four of them meeting up.

#Simatra #Philmelia #crossover ship #crossover shipping #i'm back on my crossover shipping bullshit #belmelia #Amelia/Belos #Belos/Amelia

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typhonserpent · 2 years ago

Text

Death-Head's Gift

Fandom: Death-Heads Deal/Pokemon crossover Rating: Teen (swearing, violence) Genre: Slice-of-Life Pairing: Primm (Grimm/Pearl) Summary: Pokemon AU. Grimm wants to surprise his wife with a new Pokemon, but catching the one she wants will be a challenge. Luckily, Alrick and his team are there to help.

This is a gift for @LittleGrayRam as a part of the DHD Discord's secret santa event. If you want a macabre but surprisingly warm hearted webcomic to read, pick up Death-Head's Deal, join the discord, and of course read this fic. <3

✦ My Writing Tag ✦

✦ AO3 Link ✦

All day long, the full-face bear couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

He wasn’t doing anything unusual. He’d gone to a meeting with some high profile bank owners, filed the necessary paperwork to sell his share of his company’s stock, met for lunch with his wife, and spent the afternoon chasing down a few local street rats to pay them for a job well done. After work, he went out for dinner with his other wife and then wrapped up the night at his favorite bar, where he snorted lines of coke with a few of his colleges. Now the night had turned pitch-black, and the bar was emptying. He wasn’t keen on leaving his brand new car at the bar until morning, so he was taking a walk to clear his head. Every now and again, it felt like someone was staring over his shoulder, but when he looked behind him, nothing was there. Just like at the bar … and the coffee shop … and the restaurant … and in the park …

He looked behind him, and again, saw only shadows and parked cars.

He quickened his pace

He was only a few blocks away from the bar. He’d be fine. He just had to make it to his car.

The streetlights flickered. The shadows beneath his feet shifted unnaturally. He froze, eyes wide, swiveling at breakneck speed.

Behind him. A new shadow.

It approached. His forehead was damp with sweat.

A tiny Yamper stepped into the light.

Hand over his chest, the bear sighed, finding every inch of him still tense and shaking. The Yamper gave a single, high pitched bark

“Hey there, little guy.” He said, kneeling, “Gave me a scare. You lost?”

The Yamper leaned forward to sniff his fingers and suddenly the streetlamp above him shattered, bathing them in broken glass and darkness. He looked up and into a pair of wicked, glowing red eyes. A sharp-toothed smile appeared below. The eyes bounced in delight with the sounds of a deep-pitched laugh that sent chills down his spine.

Terrified, the man stood and stepped backwards, only to trip on a vine that had suddenly spread behind him. Immediately, the vines wrapped themselves around his ankles, and the accompanying Bulbasaur stepped into his field of view.

“Fuck …” He breathed as the Gengar revealed itself, still standing behind the happy, panting Yamper.

Two half faced rabbits followed behind the Pokemon, their Death-Head masks glowing white as they stepped out of the darkness. They were carrying bats.

He reached for his belt, where three Pokeballs were clipped. He’d paid a lot of money for this team, for exactly this reason. His hand was shaking. He blindly threw the ball, and his wrist was immediately snagged by one of Bulbasaur’s vines. The ball flew and slowed to a stop, encased in the purple glow of Gengar’s ghostly hold.

The shorter of the two Death-Heads, whose bare arms were covered in scars, laughed, “Oh fuck no. Batter up!”

He hit the ball full force with his bat, and it shattered into pieces.

When the man reached for another ball, the silent Death-Head his hit hand full force. He heard the crunch of bones in his wrist. With chilling calm, the silent Death-Head removed the remaining balls from the man’s belt. He was regarding this task as though it were another pile of papers dropped on his desk.

“NO! PLEASE!” He cried, throwing up his uninjured hand in surrender, “DON’T DO IT! PLEASE!!!”

“Too bad, buddy.” Joon said, “Sucks to be on the receiving end of a deal.”

Alrick snapped his fingers, and the Bulbasaur turned to him. Fingers extended, he closed his fist, and the Bulbasaur’s vines crept up and bound the man from head to foot.

The man was gagged, blindfolded, and transported by the cold touch of Ghastly’s levitation. Twenty minutes later, he was thrown onto a metal chair. The Bulbasaur finally released the man, only for his hands to be cuffed behind him. The blindfold was removed. He stared face-to-face with a warthog woman, her tusks sharpened to fine points, her features hidden behind a familiar skull mask.

“I’m going to cut the crap and get right to the point.” She said, “We’ve had a hell of a time finding you. You’ve worked really hard to maintain a double life, and confirming you’re you, much less approaching you with that black-market pokemon team of yours, took not one, but two of my boys. I ran out of patience a long time ago, but unfortunately for you, someone is paying us a lot to squeeze information out of you.”

The man’s breathing was fast and heavy. She yanked the duct tape off his mouth, earning a cry of pain, leaving his lips raw and chapped.

“So … let’s start why you sold your company’s stocks this morning.”

He squirmed. The edges of the metal chair cut into his pants, “I… I just planned on retiring early is all. It’s time to move on.”

She heaved a sigh, “And here I thought it would be easy … Torkoal?”

Beneath the chair, the man felt movement. He looked down. The Torkoal’s head appeared and met his face.

“N-no … NO!”

The volcanic opening on Torkoals back glowed an angry orange. Smoke belched. The Torkoal lit its shell ablaze, and the mans screams filled the room.

x – X – x

Grimm reached into the kitchen cupboard, removed a box of sugar, and was greeted by a demanding mew. The Espeon below him flicked her tail in annoyance and nudged her food bowl in his direction.

“So demanding.” He chuckled, putting back the sugar and reaching instead for the Pokechow.

“Jasper! You know better.”Pearl scolded from her seat at the kitchen island.

“My own fault for being so audacious as to prepare my coffee before her breakfast.” Grim replied, pouring the food into into the bowl.

Pearl lowered her phone, “She’s been so clingy ever since they switched my schedule. I feel awful that she’s cooped up by herself all day.”

“Perhaps she’d like a companion?” Grimm took his seat across from her, coffee and bagel in either hand, “Pokemon generally perform better in teams, and my Charizard and Nidoking aren’t exactly housepets. We could look into adopting another Pokemon.”

“Oh! That reminds me.” Pearl picked up her phone and pulled up the article she’d been reading, “Look at this, someone spotted a Pikachu at this campground. It’s just a couple hours outside of Lywood.”

Grimm skimmed the article, pausing to study the attached photo. It was mostly blurry trees and shadows, but there was little doubting the creature that was hiding in the darkness; that distinct shape and familiar yellow color, those pointed ears atop.

He gave her an incredulous look.

“You want a Pikachu?”

“Oh, goodness, no. Are you kidding me? I mean breeding was banned so long ago, and it’s so highly regulated you can’t even find them on the black market. Not that you’d want one that’s so horribly inbred anyway, I mean that’s why they banned it in the first place, and even if you’re lucky enough to find one being sold legitimately it’s worth more than our house, and forget finding one in the wild unless you live in Kanto or Alola, and even then-”

She froze, suddenly noticing the amused smirk on Grimm’s face.

When she’d first met him, before she’d ever met any Death-Head, that look might have sent frozen her in place. His eyes always told another story. He was amused, but he was looking at her with the same eyes he might watch her undress with. He loved watching her be excited.

She froze in place, but not from fear. She was blushing.

“I have to confess,” She said with a sheepish smile, “I know it’s seen as kind of childish these days but I always really loved Pikachu. Back when it was popular, my room as basically covered in merch.”

“So you do want a Pikachu?”

“Sure, and I want to win the lottery too, but I’d have to buy a ticket first.”

“Waste of money. You’re better off buying a Pikachu. Pad thai for dinner?”

“Now that sounds worth the price.”

“I’ll pick it up on the way home.” He stood, giving her a quick kiss.

“You’re the best.” Pearl caressed his cheek, not shying away from his Death-Head mask. It was as much a part of him as the markings beneath, and she loved every part of him.

Grim took her hand and kissed her knuckles, then left for work.

x – X – x

Three mugs of beer clacked together.

“To a job well done, boys!” Rena cheered.

Rena, Alrick, and Joon had a feast of fried noodles, dumplings, curry, and rice laid out before them.

“Dig in, boys. You’ve earned it.” She continued, “That job netted us a big payout, and a huge influx of new clients, and it’s all thanks to your and your teams.”

Joon had already begun stuffing his face with fried rice. Alrick was politely picking at some white rice and soy sauce.

“I’m not going to lie, Joon, I thought Gengar’s scary face routine would have stopped working years ago. You’d think people would get used to it.”

“It never fails!” Joon replied, brandishing a butter knife as though it were a sword, “Sometimes I let him out of his Pokeball at night and he gets me just for shits. We wouldn’t have figured out about his double life if it weren’t for Alrick’s new addition, though.”

Alrick gave him a thumbs up.

“That Yamper of yours is a good tracker.” Rena added, “About time you got a companion for your Bulbasaur. Next you should try convincing the stubborn thing to evolve.”

He shrugged.

A shadow fell over Joon’s plate of fried prawns (now reduced mostly to chewed tails). He looked up to see a fellow Death-Head looming over them. He paused mid-bite, meeting the half-face cat’s deadpan stare.

“Hey, I’ve seen you before.” Joon said, pointing the prawn at him, “North faction, right?”

“Grimm!” Rena raised her mug, “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Actually, I’m just picking up dinner. I didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but I overheard some of your conversation.”

“Eavesdrop all you want, I’m bragging!” She laughed, “My boys earned dinner and a few beers on me. Real tough case. Had use Torkoal to get the pig to squeal, but I wouldn’t have caught him in the first place if not for Joon’s Gengar and Alrick’s Yamper.”

“Your Yamper is a good tracker, then? Would you be willing to use him for another job? I have something in mind.”

Alrick typed on his phone.

‘If the work is safe and reasonable, I am willing. However, Bob Barker is not mine. You will have to ask his owner.’

Grim paused, staring at Alrick’s face through the phone.

“… His nickname is Bob Barker?”

x – X – x

LouLou was greeted by two Burmy that dropped from the ceiling and a Yamper wiggling the back half of its body.

“Bobby! It’s good to see you, too!” She said, kneeling to scratch the Yamper’s ears. The two Burmy shook their leaves loudly.

“And good to see you two as well.” She said, nodding at them, “Your cloaks are growing in well. Alrick really is a miracle worker.”

Alrick stepped out of the kitchen with a tea tray in hand, setting it on the coffee table. LouLou’s attention was drawn to the dark man sitting on the couch. He rose, revealing a painted skull mask and the lines of a permanent scowl etched over his face.

He was eating a cheese stick.

LouLou didn’t hide the fear that washed over her face. The Yamper weaving between her feet wasn’t helping the mood.

“Alrick, you didn’t tell me your friend was another Death-Head.” She whispered.

“I am not here on Death Head business, miss. Nothing official, no deals have been made. If anything, I wish to make a deal with you.”

She looked to Alrick, who had poured himself a cup of tea. He walked to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. She felt her nerves melt under his touch. She felt safe around him, and if he said this man was safe, then she would believe him.

“Let’s start with introductions.” The man said, gesturing to the couch. The three of them sat around one another while Alrick poured tea. The Yamper settled in on LouLou’s feet, and the Burmy retracted to quietly cling to the ceiling.

“My name is Grim,” He said, “I know Alrick from work, though we don’t work in the same faction.”

“LouLou,” She said, accepting a cup from Alrick, “Alrick and I grew up in Lywood together. I actually just moved back a few months ago. Alrick was nice enough to rehome Bobby for me.” She patted the Yamper on the head. He wagged his its stubby tail in response.

“I had to move into a much smaller apartment and they don’t allow pets. I was impressed by how Alrick was able to command his Bulbasaur with hand signals. Bob Barker’s still pretty young so he has a lot to learn, but he’s the puppy of the Yamper I had growing up. He means a lot to me. It’s been so nice to be able to visit him and know he’s in good hands.”

“Your Yamper is the actually the reason for my visit. His tracking abilities are becoming a bit of a legend. And you’re comfortable with him being used for jobs?”

“I trust Alrick, and I know he won’t put Bob Barker in any danger. He assured me his only fighter was Bulbasaur, and that Bobby wouldn’t be involved in any battles. Only for tracking. I didn’t even know he had such a good nose! Though I guess that explains how he always found where I hid my hats. I still don’t own any hats without bite marks. Hold on!” She looked up, realization seizing her attention, “Please don’t tell me you want to use Bobby for a job. I don’t want him to be hurt. He means too much to me.”

“No, no.” Grim said, holding up his hand, “Not for a job. At least, not for a Death-Head job. No danger will be involved, you have my word. I wish only for his help tracking a wild pokemon, A Pikachu, specifically. As a gift for my wife.”

“Your … wife?”

“You seem surprised. We Death-Heads have families and loved ones, too.”

“No no, I know that, of course. I guess I just didn’t expect such a … sweet gesture from such an intimidating looking man. No offense.”

“None taken. Will you agree, then?”

She sighed, glancing down at the Yamper on her feet.

Grim moved from his seat, kneeling in front of her. He scratched the Yamper on the head, stirring it from its sleep. It looked up at him, wagging it’s tail.

“Ma’am, you have my word. No harm will fall upon your Pokemon.”

“No battles?”

“None whatsoever. On my honor.”

She glanced at Alrick, who gave her a thumbs up.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded.

“Alright. I trust you.”

A few days later, she was bidding them goodbye outside of the flower shop.

“I’ll make sure the Burmy stay out of trouble.” She said, taking Alrick’s keys from him, “The Cherrim is moved to the balcony any time the sun is out, and the Sunkern gets water every other day, right?”

Alrick nodded. She gave him a salute.

“Take care of my pokemon, and I’ll take care of yours. You two stay safe out there!”

“We shouldn’t be gone for more than a day or two, but if the area is flooded with trainers, it’s likely the Pikachu has retreated further into the woods.” Grim explained, “We won’t have a phone signal that far out, but if we wind up gone for more than a week, we’ll return here and make a new plan.”

LouLou knelt, letting the Yamper jump into her arms and nuzzle into her neck, “Be a good boy, now. I love you.”

The Yamper yapped in response. She set him down and Alrick pressed the button on his pokeball, allowing him to retreat with a familiar mechanical sound.

On the street, Grim’s Charizard was outfitted with a saddle and bags on either side. Grim hoisted himself onto the Charizard’s back, and Alrick straddled the spot directly behind. With a gentle nudge, the Charizard was in the air. LouLou waved as they took off.

They cleared the skies of Lywood, leaving the familiar smog of the city and soaring over surrounding fields and farmland. They followed the road until the settled land turned into wild trees and untamed wilderness. Flocks of Spearow passed by every now and again

It was evening by the time they reached their destination. The road leading in was littered with cars and ride pokemon. The hiking trail and campgrounds were crawling with trainers. They flew further in, until the officially marked campgrounds disappeared and all that could be seen was trees and the occasional tent or campfire. They flew further still, until there were no signs of civilized life whatsoever. It was pitch-dark when they eventually landed in a small clearing.

Hopping off Charizard, Alrick released Bobby while Grimm tended to Charizard. The excitable Yamper spun in circles, sniffing every inch of his new surroundings, until Alrick snapped his fingers, causing the Yamper to stand at attention. From his pocket, he produced a plastic baggie with a lock of yellow hair inside, opening it, he allowed Bobby to sniff. After a few seconds, Bobby put his nose to the ground, and paced, eventually working his way in circles to the edge of the clearing.

Grimm was feeding his Charizard a pokepuff when Alrick typed a message on his phone.

‘He’ll bark when he’s found a trail.’

It happened before either of them could react. Immediately, the Yamper’s terrified yelps carried it away from the shadows at the edge of the clearing, darting across the field, through the two Death-Heads, and into the woods at the opposite end. Alrick panicked, his eyes wide, his gaze darting from the place Bobby had come from, to the place he’d run into, and then back again.

“I’ll find out what’s over there.” Grimm said, “He couldn’t have gotten far. Probably just spooked by another pokemon. Take Charizard for light and meet me back here in an hour?”

Alrick gave him a thumbs up.

Alrick left, his path illuminated by the light from Charizard’s tail. Grim went the opposite way, feline eyes glowing in the darkness.

Alrick kept his ears perked. While they walked, he occasionally snapped his fingers. When he heard a rustle in the bushes, he swiveled and immediately released Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur stood poised to attack. When the Fearow rose from the foliage, Alrick quickly realized his mistake. He snapped his fingers twice. Dodge.

The Bulbasaur scrambled to move out of the way, still managing to catch the edge of the Fearow’s wing attack. Bulbasaur fell, his bulb split in twain. Not easily beaten, the Bulbasaur stood on shaky les to face the Fearow as it took to the sky. Alrick snapped his fingers and clapped his hands once. Attack one.

Bulbasaur unleashed spores of sleep powder from its bulb. As it swooped Fearow kicked up the wind with its wings and dissipated the sleep powder with ease. Alrick dove, encasing Bulbasaur in his arms to block the impending attack. He felt the brush of feathers against his back, expecting the sharp pain of a peck to follow. The attack was interrupted when Charizard leapt into action with a ferocious growl.

Alrick rose to his feet, clutching the injured Bulbasaur to his chest, and watched as Charizard and the Fearow went head to head. Feathers and blood alike flew. Charizard had a long gash across his forehead and had Fearow’s wing in his teeth. Fearow pecked at Charizard’s neck and chest until Charizard released it. The second it was able, the Fearow took to the air. Charizard responded with a flamethrower, missing the Fearow and instead lighting the foliage nearby.

Charizard looked past the Fearow, past the flaming bushes, and for a brief second, Alrick swore he saw a the shadows shift behind the flames. Charizard’s eyes widened, and immediately released another trail of flames from its mouth. Instinctively, Alrick snapped his fingers. If Charizard understood him, it didn’t matter. The panicked pokemon was attacking every shadow around them, and every dried twig and tree was catching alight as he did so. Alrick stepped back until he was up against a tree. Helpless, he watched as the flames crackled around him and grew with every panicked attack. Everywhere he turned, there was more fire. Charizard took to the air.

He still clutching his Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur dug his claws into Alrick’s shirt, looking up at him with large eyes. Hesitantly, Alrick touched the injured bulb, and Bulbasaur yelped in response. With a sigh, Alrick returned Bulbasaur to his pokeball and clutched it tight.

He tried stomping the flames, then he tried tossing dirt onto them. He removed his jacket and tried smothering them. He crawled on all fours hoping one of the bushes would let him through. Maybe there was a gap somewhere. Anywhere.

The leaves behind the ring of fire rustled. Like a bloodied phoenix, the Fearow rose, its beady eyes trained on Alrick. He clutched pokeball close to his chest, weighing his options, when he heard a tiny yap. His fur matted and tangled with leaves, Bobby crawled under roots and bushes to reach Alricks side and face the Fearow. Bobby’s lips curled in a snarl and his fur bristled with electricity. Before Alrick could react, the Fearow swooped, and the Yamper opened his jaw wide to reveal sets of sharp, crackling teeth.

Thunder fang.

Bobby jumped and sank his teeth into the Fearow’s neck as soon as it was within range. The Fearow’s eyes widened, its whole body stiffened with the jolts that ran through its body. Light flashed, and the smell of burned feathers overtook the smell of smoke. The Fearow collapsed, and Bobby released it. When it stirred, Bobby growled. Despite its injuries, the Fearow unsteadily rose to its feet, glaring at Bobby and Alrick.

Suddenly, Bobby was enveloped in a white light.

Alrick stood slack-jawed. The Fearow poised to strike. Thinking fast, Alrick snapped his fingers and clapped his hands once. Attack one The newly evolved Boltund charged.

It was over in a second. The weakened Fearow fell to another thunder fang, and Bobby, looking very proud of himself, ran back to Alrick with his tail wagging.

For a moment, Alrick felt a flood of relief. Bobby jumped to his hind legs, now easily able to rest his front paws on Alrick’s chest. He rewarded Bobby with ear rubs. What a good boy

A tree branch snapped and fell near them, spitting embers and charred debris up in its wake. The wood crackled and split. Bobby looked up at him with his ears bent back, and whimpered.

His heart sinking, Alrick returned Bobby to his pokeball, then clutched the pokeballs of both of his precious pokemon to his chest.

x – X – x

Grimm’s Nidoking finished off the last Spearow with a swipe of his tail. The bird fell in a crumpled heap on the ground. He immediately returned Nidoking to his pokeball.

The forest was quiet here, save for the songs of bugs and the cries of nocturnal pokemon. Grimmm’s boots crunched dry autumn leaves. A babbling brook could be heard close by. A flock of Zubat flew overhead, but seemed uninterested in him. Glowing feline eyes narrowed to make out a nearby cave from which the last of the Zubat flock was pouring. When a flash of yellow disappeared into the cave, his cat ears perked.

He cave was overtaken largely by the stink of Zubat guano. His nose wrinkled. There were plenty of nooks and crannies where a pokemon could hide, but he couldn’t gauge how deep it was just by looking.

He decided, quite quickly, that he didn’t want to waste time spelunking tonight. He released Nidoking from the pokeball and said in a cold, calm voice, “Nidoking, sludge wave.”

Nidoking opened his mouth and released a torrent of toxic purple liquid. The cave floor was flooded with a thin layer of poison. Grim picked up a foot and kicked a bit off his boots.

From behind one of the rocks, a large shadowy claw reached up. The darkness parted into a wicked smile, accompanied by wicked, glowing red eyes. Nidoking took a few steps back. Grimm stood off to the side, just out of the face’s direct line of sight.

“Nidoking.” Grimm growled, “Stand your ground.”

The pokemon glanced behind at his master, then back at the shadowy visage, then back at his master. It was clear which one was scarier. Grimm cocked one eyebrow and rubbed his chin, studying the scary face before them.

“Not unlike Joon’s Gengar. Fascinating. Nidoking, ice beam. Now.”

Nidoking obeyed, unleashing an icy spray with so much force that the rock before them was shattered. The familiar yellow pokemon was revealed, and no sooner did it see its predicament than did Nidoking’s ice beam hit the pokemon full force, flinging him a few feet back. The pokemon skidded to a stop and stood, dazed and wobbly. At the neck, his head flopped to one side as though broken.

“Wait.” Grim commanded, and walked past Nidoking. The pokemon, his head hanging limp, turned to Grimm as he approached. On the pokemon’s stomach, two black dots seemed to widen. He jumped and backed up against the wall.

Taking out his phone, Grim opened his Pokedex app, and scanned the creature before him.

Mimikyuu – Disguise Pokemon - It wears a rag fashioned into a Pikachu costume in an effort to look less scary. Although it's a quiet, lonely Pokémon, if you try to look at what's under its rag, it will become agitated and resist violently.

“Hmm,” Grimm hummed, pocketing his phone, “So it wasn’t a Pikachu after all. I suppose you’re the one who scared Mr. Barker earlier, too.”

The Mimikyuu trembled.

“I won’t hurt you. Here.” Gently, he took the head of the Mimikyuu’s disguise and stood it upright. Producing a potion from his pocket, he sprayed it on the Mimikyuu, healing whatever wounds the battle had inflicted.

“I can relate to you, you know. Most people are scared of me, and a precious few have seen under my mask.”

Looking up at him, the Mimikyuu made a little squeak.

“You’re welcome.” He said, patting the Mimikyuu’s head.

He left the cave with the Mimikyuu in his arms and Nidoking at his back. His ears twitched when he heard the familiar roar of his Charizard. The Charizard landed before him, and Grimm’s disappointment was evident by the glare he wore.

“Where is Alrick?” He asked, and the Charizard replied with a sheepish look.

He sighed. The smell of smoke was quickly apparent, and the story in full came together.

“You’re a real troublemaker when left unchecked, aren’t you?” He said to the pokemon in his arms. The Mimikyuu glanced up at him innocently, “Come along then, let’s clean up this mess”

x – X – x

The fire roared around Alrick. His long, sensitive ears were bent back against his head. The two precious pokeballs stayed close to his chest. His shirt was tugged up over his nose and his eyes were squeezed shut against the stinging smoke.

Suddenly, a crackling whoosh, like dirt thrown into the wind. A sudden sense of cool cut a line against his side. He dared to look up, and saw as another flaming bush was suddenly doused in sand.

Grimm pointed, and Nidoking put out a third fire with it’s sand tomb.

Stunned, Alrick watched until the flames were all drowned. Grimm approached him and held out his hand for Alrick to take. He had a strange yellow pokemon perched on his shoulder.

Alrick had never felt so relieved, and his expression spoke every word that he couldn’t. Grimm helped hoist him up and rested a hand on his shoulder. There was a moment of silent comradery between them. Neither of them needed to talk. In fact, the silence was welcome.

When their moment was over, Alrick took out his phone and scanned the pokemon on Grimm’s shoulder. Reading the description, he smirked and shook his head.

“I owe you a debt for your help, and I owe Charizard some firm re-training, but it seems we’ve found our little troublemaker, as well as the source of the Pikachu sightings.”

He motioned for Alrick to follow. Charizard was waiting close by.

“We’ll find somewhere to rest for the night and return to Lywood tomorrow. I imagine LouLou will be happy to see Mr. Barker again.”

Dread sank into Alrick’s chest. He glanced at the pokeball in his hand.

He had no idea if LouLou was going to be happy to see him.

x – X – x

They parted at the street in front of Alrick’s apartment. Grimm stayed seated on Charizard while Alrick dismounted. They paused and met eyes just as Alrick’s boots hit the pavement.

“Why the long face?” Grimm asked.

Alrick released Bobby from the pokeball. The Boltund gave him a happy bark.

“… I see.”

Alrick turned, motioning for the Boltund to follow.

As Grimm flew away, his sensitive feline ears could hear as Alrick entered the apartment.

“Welcome back, Alrick! Did it go w-WHAAA? BOBBY!? IS THAT YOU?”

x – X – x

Equally as loud as LouLou had been, Pearl squealed, holding her cheeks in her hands.

“OH I love it! It’s even better than a Pikachu!”

Sitting on their dining table, the Mimikyu squeaked, and for a brief second, seemed to be blushing beneath his disguise.

“You’re the best husband ever!” She threw her arms around Grimm. He who remained stoic but bore a soft, gentle smile uncharacteristic of the hardened Death-Head that the streets knew. “Is this where you’ve been all night? I thought you were just on a job!”

Grimm shrugged, setting his hands on her hips. “It was a job, in a way. Seeing you smile is worth any Death-Head’s price.” He kissed her forehead.

“You softie … wait, you didn’t actually make a Death-Head deal for this you?”

“Not a Death-Head deal, no.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She sighed, clutching her chest, “Well let’s get this little guy fed and washed. We’ll have to come up with a name, too.”

“I had a name in mind, actually.”

x – X – x

LouLou flopped onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. Bobby sat on her feet as before, but his eyes now easily met hers. He panted and wagged his tail.

“This is too much to take in.” She groaned, “Is this why you were always picking on the neighbor’s Meowth?”

Alrick returned from the kitchen with a mug in each hand. He glanced at her sheepishly as he sat one coffee on the table and sat in the armchair with the other.

“I can’t be mad about it.” She sighed, leaning back, “Especially when Bobby jumped into the fight on his own. I guess if he wants to fight so bad, I can’t forbid it anymore. But no dangerous missions, I mean it! I won’t forgive you if Bobby gets hurt.”

Smiling softly, Alrick nodded.

x – X – x

Two full-face bears crouched under a window. The smaller of the two shook with fear.

“Y-you sure about this?”

His companion had malice in her eyes and a crowbar in her hand, “I’ve been staking this place out since yesterday. I just saw the Death-Head get back this morning. He lives here, and so does his wife.”

“Y-yeah, but … what if she’s a Death-Head too?”

“Then she deserves to suffer. A Death-Head tortured and killed my husband. Cheating bastard he may have been, but now I’m out a husband, a house, and all his money. I’ll have my revenge. I’ll hold this bitch hostage for info, and if she’s a Death-Head, I’ll knock her upside the head, too.”

He swallowed. Together, they peered over the window ledge, into the house.

“What the fuck is that? Is that a fucking Pikachu? Damn, this guy’s loaded.”

Pearl finished tying a bright pink bow around her pokemon.

“Like a distinguished gentleman.” She said, “Come with me, sir. Your dinner awaits.” She gave a dramatic bow, then headed to the kitchen. The pokemon briefly glanced at the window, then hopped off the couch.

The woman watched her disappear. “Alright,” She hissed, “Looks like the hubby isn’t home. We probably got a couple hours before-”

She froze, her own words caught in her throat. She stared wide-eyed at the massive black claw that dragged razor-sharp nails across the window. A pair of wicked, glowing red eyes appeared appeared behind it, and a sharp-toothed mouth, grinning, laughing, and mocking her. She stumbled back. Her companion was already running away, screaming.

“F-fuck! What the FUCK is that!?” She shouted. She scrambled to her feet, abandoning her weapon. She ran faster than she ever had in her life. She would never trespass on a Death-Head’s house again.

The Mimikyu’s pitch-black claw retracted back into his disguise. He held his little head high.

“Trouble!” Pearl called from the kitchen, shaking the box of Pokechow, “It’s dinnertime!”

Perking, Trouble happily followed her to the kitchen.

#death head's deal #dhd #typhon writes #fanfic #fanfiction #pokemon #crossover #alrick #primm #grimm #pearl

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werevampiwolf · 2 years ago

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I posted 39,420 times in 2022

That's 9,773 more posts than 2021!

6 posts created (0%)

39,414 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@flange5

@luidilovins

@spongebobssquarepants

@bloodfetcher

@renthony

I tagged 928 of my posts in 2022

#toh spoilers - 24 posts

#hot damn - 18 posts

#stained glass my beloved - 12 posts

#youtube - 11 posts

#i don't go here but - 11 posts

#flashing lights - 7 posts

#hell yeah - 7 posts

#mochi - 7 posts

#i love her - 6 posts

#owl house spoilers - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i got distracted trying to decide if i'm too tired to make myself dinner or if i should just eat a snack and go to bed because it's 9pm lol

My Top Posts in 2022:

My roommates are throwing a party and it's so fucking loud and I can't sleep and this is a fucking autistic/PTSD sensory hell

3 notes - Posted May 1, 2022

Fun fact, blaze posts ignore tag filters. Also I'm not sure how well Tumblr screens blazes before they post.

@staff

[Brief image description: a tumblr blaze sponsered post to a fic that is tagged with both "dead dove: do not eat" and "incest"]

3 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

It's my birthday today

4 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

Mr. Man got his first-ever tag today and is very proud of it!! I’m so in love with the tags we got all 3 of my dogs (they’re the same but Milo’s is blue, Laika’s is gold, and Loki’s is black) that I’m gonna get 3 more with their names to use as keychains lol (I have no idea why I call him Mr. Man, it just came out one day and now I can’t stop lmao)

Those are amazing tags and now I want one for my dog lol. I want to get my dog a collar with a matching bracelet for me

Also I'm now going to accept that Man is his last name (or middle name if you consider your dogs to have your last name)

4 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

@niuniente

Here’s what my dumb questions were leading up to. I present: bubblegum Death-Head with extra eye and makeup. She’s a half-face tuatara, which have an extra eye on the top of their heads, though I took some liberties with the placement. She can’t see details with it but she can sense light and dark, like a real tuatara. She doesn’t have human ears, just little earholes like a lizard, so her glasses are actually magnetically attached to piercings she has right there. Her spikes go down her head and they’re naturally green, but she paints the ones on her head with nail polish. She used to always wear pink eyeshadow on all three eyes, but with her mask and all, now she only does the middle eye. She’s also got a tail that’s hidden in the shawl, because I cannot draw a lizard tail that doesn’t look terrible. And while I didn’t draw any teeth details, they’re very sharp, and she will not hesitate to bite.

I think I’m gonna call her Anahera, which is Maori for “angel“ (since tuatara are from New Zealand)

Made in Inkscape, and I did it pretty fast, at least for me, so the anatomy isn’t exactly amazing lol.

(also the model I found to reference was already wearing the glasses, so I figured it was fate since it matches Alrick’s)

30 notes - Posted September 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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quercus-queer · 4 years ago

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Shoutout to Alrick Timmens, lowkey a harbinger of chaos

#infinity train #alrick timmens #i have feelings for you #what a fucking icon #managed to bag amelia and then brought about this shit #i love that man #is there an alrick timmens appreciation post...#enjoy this low quality meme

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artbyblastweave · 4 years ago

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A Theory about The Unproduced Amelia Season

I think Amelia’s book would have served to reframe her takeover of the train as, at least initially, a good thing. On some level, I think it was a good thing. When we first meet Amelia in Book 4, she’s in some form of Dialogue with One; he’s walking her through the proceedings of the train, laying it all out for her. And frankly, he’s framed a lot like a supervillian here.

This isn’t the One-one that traveled with Tulip. He’s a united front, with a specific goal and ethos. His name drips with ego. He’s cold, calculating. He’s a robot hidden behind an uncanny face. He knows the train kills people. Probably a lot of people. He doesn’t care. They fix their shit- with limited guidance and resources- or they die. For all intents and purposes, he’s either PG Jigsaw or he’s playing Metatron to one.

Then there’s Amelia. Amelia, about whom we can observe several things;

She’s known to have a knack for subverting tyrannical, bureaucratic systems. She undercuts the phone company. She jokingly tries to talk Alric into ditching graduation. She does poorly in a classroom setting but she’s brilliant when she applies herself.

In an era when all passengers have specific uniforms-branded with One’s face, no less, Amelia is wearing the boots, (which physically can’t be removed) but not the soulless; identity-erasing uniform.

She’s penetrated very far into the infrastructure of the train. You don’t get this far on your first day, or without subverting a lot of systems to get One’s personal, undivided attention.

She has no Denizen with her here. That’s odd; with the exception of Grace, most passengers tend to accumulate denizens pretty quickly after they board the train. Kez demonstrates that, under One, this is what Denizens do- it’s their duty to explain the set-up and assist the passengers, although she personally isn’t “conventionally” good at it (she helps by being so incompetent they have to devise workarounds to the problems she creates.)

So what we’re looking at here is coded like a Bond Villain Speech to a protagonist that you’d get at the climax. This is after the plucky, headstrong, anti-authoritarian heroine has pushed through countless dangers on the train proper, to break into the inner sanctum of a sanctimonious demigod. This is after she’s asserted her individuality with clothes instead of a uniform.

This is after any denizens she potentially encountered have left her company; maybe through second-act heroic sacrifice, or just by being left behind when One brought her into the main tour. (It’s possible she never encountered any, but from a meta standpoint it’s unlikely the whole book would have been her with One-One and no one else.) In the construction of a typical horror thriller or heroic action adventure, we’d be witnessing zero hour. Now let’s look at her influence on Ryan and Min’s adventure. She exerts influence twice; once at the Party Car, and once at the castle. In the Party car, she gives them back their stuff. Ryan’s Guitar, Min-Gi’s minisynth, their clothes. All flatly necessary to get through the car, to resolve their problems in general, and it’s pretty clear that One wasn’t going to give them that stuff if Amelia hadn’t suggested it; she’s in some kind of dialogue with him that can be heard through the Steward.

And someone pointed out that in the other seasons, the stuff that the passengers bring on board with them is a reflection of themselves, their strengths and their pasts. Someone aside from me pointed out that under One’s system, Tulip wouldn’t have had the pocket knife that she used to rescue Lake- and that was the only conceivable takeaway from that car, that you need to extend empathy even to people who are hurting you while pursuing their own needs. They pointed out that without his phone and the recording, Lake wouldn’t have been able to help Jesse through his issue with Nate and Troy. He could have kept dancing around that forever. So this is clearly Amelia at a point where she’s trying to introduce a Reform to a broken system. And it’s a good one! The second time she shows up, she takes the pair’s magnoboots, proclaims that “we are on our own,” and (accidently) self-destructs the stewards. That’s a demonstration that she’s in control at this point, if not competent control.

It’s telling that the most prominent thing One’s regime provides to the Passengers are boots that can be used as restraining bolts if they start doing something he doesn’t like. It’s also telling that Amelia’s first act as Conductor was to remove those restraining bolts from everyone on the train. Her breakdown at the end of Book One is at least partially informed by her knowledge of how callously One-One ran things when she hadn’t rendered him a complete moron. Her brusque, no-nonsense attitude in Book 3 results from the fact that she’s not actually sorry about overthrowing One-One; she recognizes that there was a mechanical limit stopping her from bringing back Alrick, that she took One-One’s little speech about the train being capable of anything too literally, and that her time in charge could have been spent far more productively. But that was purely a practical error, not necessarily a moral one; she isn’t shown to care about denizens any more than One One or the Apex do, and she doesn’t care about the train working beyond what’s necessary to burn off her sentence.

Considering all of this, I think that a book about Amelia would have been framed as a full-circle revolution; a story about Dorothy finding the man behind the curtain, finding him lacking, and usurping him. The tragedy isn’t that the real conductor was overthrown; the tragedy is that Amelia fails to improve meaningfully on his performance. She failed to recognize her newfound capacity, and her moral responsibility, to improve the system for everyone; Instead, she got lost for thirty years in the pipe dream of bringing back Alrick, with nothing to show for it but turtles.

#infinity train #it #Infinity train book 4 #Infinity train amelia #amelia hughes #One-one #infinity train one one #duet #infinity train season 4 #infinity train theory #meta

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niuniente · 7 months ago

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OH MY GOD KIZZIE!!! she is so snuggle worthy, i don't know why i feel so much for Kizzie but she had my heart from the moment she first appeared. she could burn the world down and destroy the whole city and i'd probably still simping for her. Man what a ass her dad must have been. he must really fucked up, eh?

Kizzie has grown on me, too. I'm really happy that readers have taken her under their wings so willingly and lovingly, especially when there seems to be romantic chemistry between Alrick and her. I was a bit worried about it because I said long ago that no dating for Alrick and DHD isn't a romance comic.

My impression of Kizzie's father is that he was a hot heated man who acted first and thought later. This went too far when he refused to step back or stop, and now Kizzie has to unfortunately deal with its aftermath.

I try my best to keep the classy feeling on Kizzie :3

You all have loved both Kizzrick crumbs and the whole side plot of Primm so does this mean that I genuinely need to draw a romance comic?? I never considered myself as a romance author but maybe it's my thing?

#ask niu #kizzie #DHD

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mmikmmik2 · 4 years ago

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If you were to sort the Infinity Train cast(s) into the Major Arcana a la the Persona games, which Arcana would you give everyone?

anon I had SOOOOO much fun thinking about this, thank you so much for sending me this. I sorted all the major characters, plus a few other entries, based on a mix of Arcana symbolism, Persona series character archetypes, and general vibes. I came up with answers I feel pretty good about for all but four of the Arcana. (Was really tempted to say Strength is every human character who doesn't board the train because they can handle their problems on their own lol.) This is going to be a long-winded post, so I thought I’d post just the list as an image (which hopefully won’t be too blurry!) rather than wrestle with Tumblr formatting trying to make a short list, and put a big text wall under the readmore talking more about my picks.

If this list does end up illegible, the same info is under the readmore as text! Plus some characters for Magician, Strength, Justice, and Death that I didn’t want to add to the “official” list because they’re more based on headcanon. (Although my reasoning for some of the “official” picks is pretty weak lol.)

One-One as 0. The Fool

Oh my gosh, what am I?

IT is great at fleshing out character backstories and families, so One-One at the beginning of S1 is one of the few characters who really feels like a blank slate. He's got a lot of his baggage back by the end of the season, and I think One and One-One are more similar than they seem at first glance, but S1 does seem to have been very formative for One-One and how he thinks about what he's supposed to be doing and how he relates to other people. So it does kind of feel like his fool's journey.

Alrick Timmens as I. The Magician

The magician begins the journey... by beefing it on a dirt bike, dying, and sending his wife flying off the deep end. Rip.

Alrick was an engineer like Amelia, so I could see him suiting some of the themes of the Magician, like conscious thought and manifesting ideas. His apparent playfulness and insecurity are similar to the Magician characters in Persona.

Kez as II. The High Priestess

“We can’t make this decision for you, Kez.” “You know what to do.”

I thought really hard about making Kez the Magician because just like every Magician since Persona 3, she's dumb, horny, and insecure dlkjasfdkl

(and also her showing up at the start of the story arc and being helpful but also super needy is very Magician)

But the idea of "intuition" really does suit Kez. Sometimes her intuition is as bad as her conscious reasoning, but I think that's a lot because she's so confused about what happened with Jeremy, and Morgan making Kez feel like she did a bad thing by helping him.

Tuba as III. The Empress

She made me feel like I was warm all the time.

Tuba's a mom. Sorry, this one's not that deep, haha.

Simon Laurent as IV. The Emperor

Highest number! I'm the leader now.

Simon has a lot of issues, but the one that felt the most prominent to me was his unhealthy relationship with power, authority, dominance, and rules. Another quote I considered using here was what he said in Grace's memory of meeting Amelia: "I never thought I'd get to see the Conductor with my own eyes. He's perfect! Everything finally makes sense again." In his emotional crisis, he thought everything could be fixed just by the existence of a huge, scary, powerful, male authority figure, even if they weren't doing anything helpful or informative.

Atticus as V. The Hierophant

I like to think that our stones are sturdy and handsome, like the Corgis that crafted them.

Atticus is a figure of traditional authority who deeply loves the history, society, and culture of his people. He often provides spiritual wisdom and encourages Tulip to get out of her own head and engage with the world around her. Also in Persona, Hiero is the Dad Arcana so it's very funny to me (a) to make the little dog be Hiero and (b) that the little dog really does have the strongest Wholesome Dad Energy of the whole cast.

Jesse Cosay as VI. The Lovers

Don't tell me what to do. I'm not going to be a part of anything like this, on or off the train.

This was my first and easiest pick lol, Jesse is sooooo Lovers. Like, the focus on choice and personal values and relationships? Yep, that's Jesse. It works on an "actual meaning of the Arcana" level and a "vibes with the Persona characters" level lol... popular, upbeat, and having such an identity crisis.

Lake as VII. The Chariot

I'm my own person, who is getting off this train!

I don't know if Chariot captures all the ways Lake grew over the course of S2, but I feel like they had the most externally focused conflict of all the IT characters, which suits Chariot. They've been fighting to stake out their personhood from start to finish, and they took action and used their willpower to achieve that goal. Also they have at least a little jock energy which is a prereq for Chariot tbh.

Frank as VIII. Strength

I dunno, I kinda imagine him as a simple man and easily underestimated, but with a lot of heart. The Cat may say they're keeping things casual but I don't think she'd take him with her on her private vacation unless he had some kind of inner toughness that would let him stand toe-to-toe with her.

Morgan as IX. The Hermit

I need to be alone right now. Kez... maybe... we can talk later.

I like that Morgan embodies toxic self-isolation and stonewalling and rejection, but that she seems to be moving towards the positive aspects of Hermit and taking some time to calm down and process and think. I like it when characters can embody the best and worst of their Arcana.

Tulip Olsen as X. The Wheel of Fortune

We have to adapt to the changes in our lives. It's the only way things can get better.

Tulip has a lot of themes and conflicts, but this one is a clear standout as the most important. I also like it for Tulip because, while she has to handle a lot of difficult and even traumatic situations, some of the change that challenges her isn't as unambiguously bad as e.g. the death of a loved one. It really is just change itself she's struggling with, and that's Fortune babey. Also, from the perspective of the train itself and lots of other characters, by reversing Amelia and One-One's positions again and changing how One-One administrates the train, Tulip is the one giving the wheel a spin. That's fun.

Lucy as XI. Justice

One of my friends once described the Justice characters in Persona as "the ones the player character is ultimately accountable towards", and I like to think of Lucy as kind of being that for Grace (...since Hazel has excused herself). Lucy is the Apex kid we see Grace interact with the most, the first Apex kid Grace admitted to herself that she had harmed (see Grace very briefly showing distress and then regret when Jesse points the harpoons at his face and she stops him), and the first person to confront Grace when she came home in The New Apex.

Min-Gi Park as XII. The Hanged Man

I don't know if we'll sell a single album, but we'll figure that out as we go.

Min-Gi sacrifices his "realistic", "sensible" goals for a more personally (spiritually, even?) enriching life that's beyond his control and outside of the expected norm. Like the Hanged Man, who dangles foolishly upside-down, but as a deliberate choice and in a state of serenity and enlightenment. I also think this arcana suits a reading of Min-Gi's character development as starting off going slower as a way to stall and live in denial, but then going slower with deliberation. Compare his arrogant insistence on refusing to act in The Astro Queue Car to his patience and care in The Castle Car and The Train to Nowhere.

Jeremy as XIII. Death

This isn't about the death of his family - I'm thinking of his reluctance to admit his number was going down. He cared about Morgan and Kez, and it's possible both that he may have really wanted to stay with them despite his exit and that that might even have been a healthy choice - they're real ass people with feelings and everything, not holodeck characters. But I also think Jeremy was using his life with them to avoid moving on out of that fog (because it was hard and it hurt and he didn't want to think about what that would mean for him and Morgan) and Morgan was enabling him.

Ryan Akagi as XIV. Temperance

Maybe the experience is the point. I wasn't just rushing you. I was rushing myself.

I think this one speaks for itself. Also, the other quote I considered putting here, from The Art Gallery Car: "You told me I can't appreciate the song without taking in the rest of the album. I need the whole package."

The Cat as XV. The Devil

I always do the right thing.

Honestly, this is one I really wasn't sure about. The Cat isn't a great pick for a lot of the meanings of Devil. She is definitely consumed by material comforts, and the short-term rewards of ignoring her issues at a long-term cost, though. This is more of a "vibes with Persona characters with this arcana" pick... Devil characters tend to start off being somewhat exploitative or even antagonistic towards the player character, and gradually showing a more conflicted and genuine side.

Amelia Hughes as XVI. The Tower

There's a hole in the universe where Alrick used to be.

Amelia's life is defined by catastrophe and upheaval - both those she's suffered and those she's inflicted on others.

Hazel as XVII. The Star

I'm going to keep loving you like you're still here.

When I think of "The Star" as a small but inextinguishable light in the darkness, Hazel seems like the obvious choice. Although we left her deeply wounded, I think she still has a flicker of her hope, faith, and purpose.

Grace Monroe as XVIII. The Moon

But it's unfair for me to tell you how to understand yourself. I mean, I don't even fully understand me.

Grace is probably the most complex and dynamic character on the show and hence one of the most difficult to place. I considered Empress, Strength, Devil, and Judgement for her... I think ultimately, lies and illusions are the most unifying theme of her character arc. Also, from a Persona angle, her pursuit of status out of a lack of true self-worth reminds me of Ai and Mishima.

Alan Dracula as XIX. The Sun

Brought together by the majesty of a superpowered deer!

I'm sorry dkjasfklads this is largely because I thought it was funny to have this completely inexpressive dead-eyed deer as Sun akfk but also... like... it kind of works okay!!! Think about the genuine joy and comfort and positivity he brings to Lake and Jesse (and me)!

The New Apex as XX. Judgement

"Then what are we gonna be?" "Guess we'll have to figure it out?"

This is kind of a Persona mythology gag again because of Judgement being a group social link near the end of the narratives of P3 and P4, when the protagonists have pierced through the lies and actually figured out who the villain of their game is and are ready to really start making progress.

0 as XI. The World

Ah, train does it again!

It's an ending and the completion of a journey, but also the beginning of a new one. And the world is literally what the passengers receive at the end of their train journey. Welcome home.

#infinity train #infinity train spoilers #protagonists of IT #Anonymous

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