#and all i had to do was use the freaking firearms?!! this game is actually going to kill me

[zaynes-left-chesticle]

Alright, I'm done sleeping on these freaking Hunter Firearms. It's literally been 4 days of trying to beat stage 30 of the open trials and all I had to do was drop my pride and break them out again?? That's 3 times now that they've helped me win a battle I've lost 20+ times.... Wth.

"I'M GOING TO BEAT STAGE 30 OF THE OPEN ORBIT TRIAL!!!", she says confidently.

She in fact, did not beat it. Time ran out with the Wyrmlords HP bar at .000001% remaining, and the game didn't want to be nice and give her the win.

HOW THE HELL DO YOU BEAT THIS STAGE???!!!!! AHHHH

[kobblefort]

Rushsly: Into the Depths 2

Clean-up time starts with the retooling of our marksbold squad, and on the plus side, we get a bunch of steel and iron back, if the kobbles can be persuaded to actually give up their bows. We sort of just let the caged ratfolk sit in the trap hallway and think about what they've done for now. Are we really going to kill them? well I mean probably, right, they killed some of our birds. I love birds. Blood will be repaid in blood and all that. In the real world I actually really like rats, but I hate mice - rats are basically dog software running on rodent hardware, but mice are skittering little freaks that will run into your room in the middle of the night literally just to suddenly roll over and die on the fucking floor. I do not live in a place with mice anymore and I hope to never have to deal with mice again (and I do everything in my power to make any environment I reside in completely inhospitable for them) but when I had to deal with mice they made me so violently angry that, had I ever owned a firearm, I would have just started fucking blasting. I know I'd probably miss, they're upsettingly fast and have the devil's luck. But it's the principle of the matter. However, in the greatest simulation game of all time Dwarf Fortress I really quite detest these ratfolk, especially because whenever they're spotted it plays a really fucking loud and scary alert sound. I ultimately want to do something funnier than "just dropping them down a pit" but worst comes to worst I am not at all opposed to "just dropping them down a pit." Forcing them to scout the cavern for me could be useful, but sounds inefficient and risks their necromancer turning some actually powerful monsters to their side. Digging a little "arena" for captured invaders to amuse the kobbles is another idea that feels at least worth considering, but I don't know how much the kobbles would actually like that. Well, we're in no hurry.

Alsrta, our caravan voice, is suddenly elected clan leader by the kobbles, requiring the construction of some new lodgings for her. Something I forgot to mention is that, besides the triplets she had while drunk, she had a fourth child, a peasant. When I try to click over to them in her "Relations" tab...

...it turns out he was the peasant crunched up in the bridge by the first were-beast attack. Uhh, fuck, sorry dude. In spite of it all, she's actually in the best possible mood. Maybe it's just the bump from getting elected, but she hasn't showed up on my radar of "kobbles in shitty moods" at all. I'll admit it's a pretty low-quality radar, and I am a pretty low-quality radar operator, but like it's there, and she hasn't really pinged on it.

Checking a random engraving in her room reveals that the kobbles worship a deity of deformity, disease and death named "Tulrac Dungsgalls." That's so fucking metal

On the other side of the spectrum, our most unhappy kobble is Zil Dentedleaks, who doesn't seem to actually be having a very bad time or any serious current issues. I mean like sorry about the trauma and shit but pretty much everyone has that at this point.

Speaking of trauma, the first bird tower gets its windows, but nobody particularly wants to get this dead peachick out of it, so uhh... I guess it's staying... This isn't related but just now at 288 hours of playtime on the Steam release I have just fucking now figured out how to get my kobbles to gather fruit. People have told me "you're so smart" for a lot of my life and I've always been dumbfounded by that, because if they saw how many obvious and simple things I miss they would probably not say that. I'm not sure what causes me to make problems 1000x more complicated in my head than they actually are but I've basically always been that way, I could read before I could tie my shoes, I can grasp the theoretical stuff in algebra just fine but actual basic arithmetic like making change is completely impossible to me, and when I play puzzle games I often flounder around trying absurdly overcomplicated solutions for entirely too long because some part of me just does not believe the solution can be simple and so unconsciously overlooks the most basic and obvious options. I don't know if this is an autism thing or what - yes I am autistic if you somehow couldn't tell - but it has made my life impossibly frustrating at times. You should see me play Zachtronics games, I like them but the kind of solutions I come up with on my first pass are fucking efficiency nightmares.

I like that this gets announced via the combat log for some reason, lol. Relax lil buddy we have literally no interest in any facet of your existence. We're just building some bird windows. The bird towers all have windows now and I find myself suddenly wondering if we'd have been able to just wall them in and carve fortifications, but oh well. Glass is free, baby!!!

Steel is most assuredly not free, but we have it now, and besides some iron pieces they've grown attached to, all the kobbles get some sweet-ass upgrades. There's also been some more personnel shuffling...

Kody, Ris, and Iltos were all in terrible moods, so I figured we might as well give them positions of authority, because, well, I don't know. I don't know what my reasoning was there. Zil was also made into the first squadron leader basically just as a lark.

Huge day for it/its bitches. No gender no problem. Well actually they're all fucking miserable. Agender, aproblem. A man, a plan, a canal: Paizuri! Uhh, wait, that's not quite right. Panama. Not paizuri. But whatever. You can't win them all. Sometimes you do everything right and you just lose anyway. Sometimes the person who goes through your entire 3 year history of Instagram posts and makes you really feel actually special and not just like another little bug in the world and makes you realize you're perfectly able to thrive in a polyamorous relationship isn't actually polyamorous and just wanted to enlist someone to tank a bit of emotional abuse from their clingy obsessive self-deprecating and wildly insecure partner. But I said I wasn't going to talk about David Cage. When success is impossible, what's important is to fail in fun and interesting ways.

Continuing the trend of boring artifacts, Roron Lastmelt creates a sheep wool cap with absolutely no distinguishing features.

Again, huge day for it/its bitches.

Moods are bad enough to make me consider building a mist generator, but I'm probably not going to for two reasons. First of all, levitating water around all willy-nilly like that can do some serious damage to the framerate, and it's already starting to struggle a bit outdoors even at just 50 kobbles. Second, it just sort of feels like cheating, and I understand that this seems insane considering I literally cheated to make the magma furnaces and wells, but I am literally dialing the difficulty level to my exact desired specifications and if you can't appreciate that I don't know what to tell you. Not having to run up and down 100 z-levels to make metal stuff, good. Putting kobbles in perfect moods for basically free after 5 mins of investment, bad. That's the game at least it's the way I see it you're free to see it some other way. You don't like how I play it's only like $30 on Steam and the ASCII version is literally free. Sorry I keep getting defensive, I just really need to win the argument against the demons that detract from everything I do residing inside my own head.

While the thought occurred to just gift them to the visiting Dwarven traders, it was ultimately decided to just throw the ratfolk prisoners (and their undead dog) in the dungeon and have them stripped of all their weapons and armor. And suddenly I decide, you know what, it would be funny to force them to fight in an arena, but just as I start digging one out:

Hey remember how I said we'd be fine as long as no forgotten beasts who can fly don't show up? Ok well something really funny just happened.

It must've smelled kobble blood, because it heads straight for the exit of the caverns, where I immediately stationed both squadrons. Unfortunately, it sunk its teeth into a civilian before they were able to stop it.

Susle loses an entire fucking foot, but under the full might of our expertly-trained steel-armored kobble army, the forgotten beast Murlu is not long for this world.

As the kobbles pile on, the beast is barely able to retaliate, and Ace Steel wins the killing blow, slicing the monster's head clean from its body. While she may have started out as kind of a mean-spirited joke about pro wrestling, she has won a great victory today. And so, she deserves a slightly less stupid title, even if I'm going to keep the name.

Shislik "Ace Steel" Trimgleeful - the Beast Slayer. Hell of a first kill to put on the record

Interestingly enough, the corpse is spattered with some ratfolk blood it must have spilled on the way here - too bad the enemy of your enemy really isn't your friend. It's a catchy saying, but sometimes the enemy of your enemy is also your enemy. Sometimes trying to see things in binaries will get you into real bad fucked up situations. But we are most assuredly out of this particular real bad fucked up situation.

I think the entire military has earned themselves a little vacation, at least for a time. Even Zil's mood has improved from the victory, though Ris is still in the absolute worst possible mood - his work is just about to begin. Or... well... it should be?

Susle basically refused bedrest, and while he's still faint, he only laid down long enough to be evaluated and given a crutch, then immediately got up and went to get drunk and have a bath. He headed back to the site of the battle to pick up the sock and shoe that once belonged to his now-dismembered foot and put them away in his bedroom cabinet, in case he ever needs them again or something, and now just wanders. We'll have to check back in on him later, but for now...

We're making progress on our second tavern and the ratfolk arena. The randomly generated name The Tooth of Midnight is very fucking cool and appropriate, and in just a bit we'll be able to toss the rat bastards down that hole to duke it out with whatever other nasties we can capture. The necromancer might just need to take a magma bath, though, I don't like thinking about the kind of cascade he could cause with those powers. Everyone else, though? Well they came here looking for a fight, and damnit they're going to get one - but we're keeping their weapons and armor, lol.

But that will all happen later, because I am being asked to play FPS games with my Gang, and would never deign to Leave my Gang Hanging, even if it means having to peel myself away from the greatest simulation game of all time Dwarf Fortress for a few hours. So that's all for now, next time we'll throw some rats down a big hole.

Oh, real quick before I go, I just got psychically assaulted by the thought "PawgChamp" and I'm dumping it on you instead of making my friends have to hear it. Sorry! Bye

[ninjakitty15]

Chapter 10: Tricks Are For Gods (Loki x OFC Pairing)

"That right there is why guns are a dumb idea against zombies," I pointed out as we all watched one of the zombie movies Tony bought just to debunk for future reference. "Their eyes are shit but they hear just fine and if you want them to stop coming you need a firearm that causes maximum damage."

"But do they run that fast?" asked Clint on the couch adjecent from Loki and me.

"I mean if you really want them to but its like having explosive shits with them, the faster they run the more they fall apart."

A collective groan of disgust came from the other Avengers.

"Ask stupid questions, expect stupid answers. They're rotting corpses, c'mon people."

"IZombie's got a point," Tony agreed. "How was the outside world by the way?"

"I was very disappointed to find out people still royally suck and creeps still roam free unchecked and uncharged for their crimes, what the hell are you lot doing that this is still happening?"

"Dealing with bigger threats with bigger weapons obviously," Tony remarked. "Should I look on the video feed for what you were up to?"

"Nothing illegal, just fought fire with fire and creeped out the creeps of the streets."

"She's very good at it too," added Loki.

Of course that didn't stop Tony from snooping and of course he found footage of me scaring them off. "What did you say to that last guy that made him turn into an angry tomato?"

"Told him his dead mom and wife are ashamed of his existence, which isn't a lie at all, he's kind of a monster."

"What did he say to start this?"

"Told me pretty girls like me should smile more. Maybe I should sharpen my teeth."

"Please don't," Loki spoke up.

"Why not? All the better to eat you with, my dear."

"Can you not ruin my childhood stories please?" moaned Clint.

"Listen, most of them are from horror stories anyway just dumbed down for your innocent ears and eyes."

"Ring around the rosie, for starters. Grimm's fairy tales were all dark, some of the disney movies definitely," Tony agreed.

"Sleeping Beauty was raped in her sleep by the king she later married," I added on. "And girls still wanna be the next disney princess, hard pass there."

"I beg your pardon, what kind of people are you reading these kinds of tales to your children?" Loki demanded.

"Hey don't look at me, I don't even have children, I'm just a fan of horror stories and those popped up."

"What would you read to them if you did though?" asked Nat.

"Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, all three of them, don't look at me like that, I raise the dead for a living, my kids need to have nerves of steel just to live with me."

Loki studied me curiously, probably wondering how good or bad a mother I would be if that was possible or maybe what kind of family he envisioned us having if again possible. I turned to catch his eyes with my own and arched an eyebrow.

"Something you wanna share with the class?" I challenged.

"Just pondering a what if future," was his simple response.

"Don't strain yourself." A couch pillow was his response to my quip that had everyone kind of staring in shock at his childish but very amusing reaction. "That's real cute but unfortunately for you I'm gonna have to kill you now, eat feathers you glorified smurf!"

"This better not lead to what it usually leads to when one of you pounces on the other, what if Peter walks in? His innocent eyes!" cried Tony.

"He's a teenager, he's probably seen better porn than us at some point on the interwebs," I stated while beating an amused god with a throw pillow.

"Better porn? Is there such a thing?" asked Steve.

"Rule 34 hun, if it exists there's a porn for it, if it doesn't then there will be." And with that I continued to beat my lover with a pillow to the head.

"Free porn aside, I'm actually kinda curious who would win in a fight now, you or Loki," Clint mused.

We both stopped pummeling each other and looked at him then each other curiously. "With or without magic?" Loki asked.

"Without, just close range hand to hand or with blades if you must," Nat added.

My gaze went to her with an arched eyebrow. "Ya'll thinking about this?" A collective nod from the rest of the group was my answer before I returned my gaze to Loki. "What's your vote on this?"

"I'm all for it if you are."

You would think he'd go for the knives or rather the sticks that substituted knives but nope, ever the man of mischief, he chose the bo staff.  Thor would later tell me its because while he favors knives as they're easy to hide and stash away, Loki had much better luck with staves. I found out quite quickly how right that was. While I was no Michelle Yeoh, I did take martial arts even before I became a leader of undead battles as children are merciless and if they decide you're a freak they make you a target. Just outside the training area of the compound stood the not busy Avengers and not surprisingly Tony was already placing bets on who would win, hell I knew who would win, the one that's probably been training and fighting for half a millennia at least. But as a wise cigar smoking Goth dad once said, just because it's a bad idea doesn't mean it won't be a good time. I chose a different kind of bo staff, if the weapon worked for the Buddhist monks, it would work for me, right? Loki was very much like a cat or maybe he just was with me, stalking his prey, pacing, biding his time, calculating his moves whereas after being obsessed with old timey wushu movies at one point, I opted for a simple nonthreatening stance resembling Wong Fei-Hung, a ruse as I couldn't fight off 10 men or so with a bo staff like the legend did but no one had to know that. One foot forward, one perpendicular in a short fighting stance, staff held behind me with one hand, the shaft pressed against the arm, the other arm stretched out in front of me beckoning him forward. Most people would think twirling it a bit is the typical first move but that's more to show off or intimidate the opponent and I'm not the show off type, especially if I'm not the best at what I'm showing off. Loki moved first though, lunging and thrusting one end of his staff at my head, I easily side stepped it, , my head tilting away but my eyes never leaving his. I figure if I couldn't wear him out despite him being ancient compared to me, and I couldn't outright beat him in strength, I could probably just frustrate the hell out of him by never letting him land a hit. Getting under people's skin was my specialty after all. So that's what it was like for the beginning, letting him attack first and either simply dodging his staff or blocking it with my own staff.

"This is boring, make a move, Aang!" called Tony from the sidelines.

"Hey, he was the best Avatar in the series, and he kicked ass!" I called back.

"Then why don't you?"

"Patience is a virtue, old Stark!"

"You say old like you're not sleeping with the oldest person in the building!"

I snorted and blocked Loki's staff once more. "You're only as old as you act, grandpa." I watched Loki carefully, waiting for the opportune moment when he thought he could let his guard down believing I wasn't gonna go batshit crazy on him.

He sped up his attacks, probably thinking I'd step into action if I was being rushed but I still kept my leisure defense up, he tried a few more changing tactics to try to get me to strike back first before I saw the sign I was waiting for the whole time and forced myself to keep the poker face I wore, resisting the urge to smirk wickedly as he seemed to relax and go back to simply trying to hit me anyway he thought was an opening. I blocked his staff once more as he went for my stomach then quick as a whip swung mine to strike his knee, stomach, and head and he went down. The utter look of shock on his face was more than enough to make me break my expression into one of pure wickedness, a canary eating grin cracking through. The game had begun. He quickly got back to his feet and lunged at me again with his staff, no longer holding back as he whipped the ends at me one after another, the only sounds now were that of wood hitting wood and the shuffling of our feet as we went at each other. Several times he left himself wide open when he was swinging his staff behind and around him to hit me from another side which was amusing because although kinda cool looking and showy, he was totally exposed and I took full advantage of that hitting him in the stomach and causing him to drop his staff mid-swing though he was quick enough to catch one end and come down at me with the other. I raised my staff to block it and shifted my upper strength to hold him off while pulling apart my staff which was actually a two piece one almost seamlessly held together and struck him in the ribs with the other piece. He glared at me, the god of tricks being tricked in a fight by some dead chick he only met recently.

"Clever girl," he growled at me.

I grinned wider. "Give up, or are you thirsty for more?"

"Very well, you asked for it."

Somehow it didn't click in my head that being a god and all, he not only had enhanced strength but apparently speed too as me verbally challenging him and getting extra sneaky had me suddenly and swiftly struck several times in the stomach and side, my feet swept out from under me, and I was on back with one end of a bo staff pointed at my head.

"Isn't this a familiar position?" he purred above me, his eyes glittering.

I held back a retort in order to roll over to avoid his staff and then lock my legs on either side of one of his then roll again, knocking him to the ground as well and making him drop his staff again. I wasted no time in getting on top of him and still holding onto my two pieces of my staff the entire time, i crossed them against his throat. "Prefer this position myself."

"I'll have to remember that later." He raised his arms to his head while still on the ground in what I thought was him surrendering but quicker than a cheetah, snatched back his bo staff and swung, knocking me off him and making me drop both pieces he was just as quick to kick away from me before pinning me to the floor, a knee against each of my arms and the shaft of his staff against my throat. "The things I could do to you in this position."

"Pretty sure you've already done them and I recall you not wanting others to see us doing them."

He smirked but made no move whatsoever from where he knelt on top of me. "Don't act like you're not thinking what I'm thinking."

"Oh that's no secret here but I'd prefer it in the bedroom where there's soundproof walls and there's other options to keep me in place the whole time."

Both his eyebrows shot up at what was implied there. "I can arrange that. For now though, I'm not moving till you say the words."

I rolled my eyes but sighed in defeat. "I yield."

"Good girl." He got off me and offered me his hand to help me up which I took easily and was yanked up and flush against him, a hungry, hot kiss stolen from me. "We should do this again sometime," he breathed in my ear.

"We'll see." I nipped his earlobe teasingly before shoving him away and walking out of the training arena.

"Does everything have to be sexual between you two?" asked Tony.

"Listen, if you were cut off from all forms of pleasure for as long as I have and suddenly are given the ultimate form of it after, you'd take it with a smile too, as many times as you can."

"I'm the ultimate form, am I?" teased Loki behind me.

"Don't let that get to your head or your excessively ornate helmet won't fit on you anymore," I retorted. "And it really brings the whole outfit together."

"I was under the impression you liked me more without an outfit."

I shrugged innocently. "A woman can change her mind."

"Am I going to have to separate you two or something?" Tony interrupted.

"I mean you could just let me go home..."

"Tempting but till our mutual enemies are out of the equation, I don't see that happening."

"Well then, I'll have to refer you to the three T's."

"The three T's?"

"Tough titties, Tony." I grabbed Loki's hand and poof we were gone.

[callsignbaphomet]

Ok! Here we go! 37, 42, and ALL of The Deep Lore. For whoever you want! :p

Thank you, darlin’ <3<3<3

Loke!

37. Do they have any phobias?

Phobias per say? No. They are quite uncomfortable around cats. So far the only exceptions have been Bheka, Ice Cream and Cheesecake. Just give them time to get to know the cat and they'll let their guard down.

42. What’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

Oh this is constant let's be honest. When he sees someone's in danger he rushes in to help even at the detrament of his own well being.

47. What was this character’s biggest turning point in their life, something that changed them almost completely?

Daaaaamn, sorry, I'll try to tl;dr this aa best I can.

When he was 21 years old he and Jelani (8 years old at that moment) went to deliver some supplies to a village. On the way they ran into raiders who attacked them but Loki ran off to keep the supplies safe but more importantly keep Jelani safe.

He put Jelani on his horse and ran the horse away so his little brother wouldn't be in danger. To keep the raiders from him he stood his ground and tried to stall them for as long as he could. Given the fact that this was a large group of raiders he knew he was gonna die but this just goes to prove the validity of question 42.

He tries to fight 'em off and is actually doing fairly well as raiders are used to a certain fighting style from the locals but Loke one of Loke's parents is not a local and taught him how her people fight so successfully splicing both styles meant he had the element of unpredictability on his side. However, one of them found his horse's tracks and annouced he was gonna give chase which freaked Loke out and in a moment of letting his guard down he gets run through with a sword. In pain and scared for his brother he tries to grab his axe and doesn't see the behemoth sized creature quietly watching from between the trees. So as the leader of these raiders is about to stab Loke the creature grabs this dude and everyone in the area is staring like wtf is this thing and start attacking it. With the little bit of energy he has left Loke just watches but somehow he ain't scared bc the more he stares at the creature the more familiar it feels. Creature makes short work of them rips the leader's arm right off and tosses his body away.

The creature actually changes size to amount the height of an adult human and turns to find Loke had bled to death (he has that thing where his blood doesn't coagulate and he just keeps on bleeding). Creature nudges him a bit as it kneels next to the body and places its hands on the injury and breathes a weird mist from out of its mouth onto Loke's face who quickly sits up in a coughing fit. Creature helps him up but Loke faints into its arms.

Loke then wakes up to see Jelani sleeping next to him and it's night time now. He checks himself to see he doesn't have a stab wound on him or even a scar, he doesn't even see any blood anywhere. He looks around and sees the horse and a small fire next to them. He goes to check Jelani but finds a black feather underneath Jelani, as he picks it up he sees small embers floating up from it and he suddenly remembers the creature but weirdly enough he wasn't afraid of it. He just remembers a weird familiar feeling after he saw it.

So basically he died but came back and somehow it was Jela that did it. To this day he still has the feather. It hasn't rotted or broken apart and it still feels warm to the touch.

48. What was their lowest point? What was their highest point?

Lowest point was when they lost their fiancé. They were injured so their fiancé went to the aid of another village but most in the group died. This kinda left Loke in a daze for a while and if it hadn't been for their family they woulda just faded away probably.

Highest point? They went to med school just like their mom did. So whenever they feel like retiring they'll fall back on that. Mean time, the thrill of being the field medic who has full mastery of any firearm you can think of is where they'll remain.

49. What are some themes tied to your character’s story?

Love, more specifically unconditional love. Love is stored in the redhead.

50. What are some motifs associated with your character?

Protection, healing and calm.

51. What were some inspirations for your character (people, movies, games)?

Ok so not much, check question 53 for better explanation. I will say that his original name was supposed to be Loki as I was still drooling like a dog in heat over Marvel Loki. But I didn't wanna be too direct about it so I named him Loke which honestly...lmao same thing but ya know. It's "different" enough for me to get away with it.

52. How are you and your character the same? How are you different?

Both of us are clingy, needy and a bit emotional tbh. We're both really protective of people we love. It literally takes just a word and we're both gunning for whoever's acting up towards family, partners or friends. Also gamers. We also enjoy singing except they can sing well and I can't lol.

They're a hell of a lot braver than I am that's for damn sure.

53. Expectations vs Reality: what did you expect and what did you get with this character?

Expectation: He was supposed to be some plot point with no real purpose except to die very horribly to push Jelani in a specific direction. He had no personality and no real info save for a name and the fact that he was Jelani's older brother.

Reality: I'm a pain in the ass and cover all my bases as much as I can so I started giving Loke some background info and a personality and then I expanded on it and fell head over heels in love with him and things drastically changed and from there we have the Loke we know of today. He's grown as a core character and tbh it would NOT be the same without him.

54. What does your character want, and what do they need?

They're pretty comfy where they're at. They have a fantastic little dog that they spoil and love to bits. The job while dangerous is exciting and they know it's for the greater good. They have their brother with them which to them is super important. Their friends are close and family is just a drive or flight away. Out of my OCs Loke is probably one of the few that has everything they need and want tbh.

Some more video games and coffee and food wouldn't hurt tho.

55. What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? What happens when these all interact with each other?

I think it's sort of a tie between patience and love. Best trait is def understanding. Worst? Overprotectiveness.

Like I've said before on a violence scale Loke is the second most violent character due to them being so overprotective. Understanding kind of goes out the window if it means they're brother, family or friends are in any kind of trouble. I don't personally see it as a fault but maybe some people might ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

56. What’s your overall goal with this character? Will they get a happy ending or will they succumb to their faults?

Tbh I don't really know how to answer this. They fill the role of the medic in the field, they're also the "big brother" figure within the group. They're also like...the calming presence.

They most definitely will get a happy ending. They deserve it.

[the-delta-42]

Rule of Precinct One Vol. 2

Rules of Precinct One Vol. 2

1. Detective Wilde has been authorized for use with all firearm ballistics, don’t ask how, we’re trying to figure that out ourselves.

2. Detective Wilde has been banned from use of all non-firearm weapons; we are running out of tail splints.

3. Detective Wilde is now required to wear a tail guard on duty, we really don’t need to go to hospital to get the damned thing reattached.

4. Do not underestimate Detective Wilde's ability to harm his own tail, seriously, don’t.

5. Detective Wilde is to stop stealing balls from the sports cupboard, we can’t get his wife to retrieve the balls every time.

6. Detective Wilde and Detective Hopps-Wilde are no longer allowed to take the nightshift together, I’m sure you can figure out why.

7. Whoever took the donuts from Clawhauser, well done, he’s supposed to be on a diet.

8. Do not make Box or Funny jokes with Detective Hopps-Wilde, we don’t need to find out that a Rabbit can actually go savage.

9. No stating Detective Wilde’s full name, there is a reason he dropped the John.

10. No asking why Detective Wilde’s father calls him Junior, at all.

11. Never, EVER suggest, imply, or otherwise insinuate that Officer Wilde is capable, or indeed, talented, at cheating at cards, in front of Officer Hoops. This will not end well.

12. Do not attempt to play cards with Officer Wilde. This includes Black Jack, Three Card Monty, and All forms of Poker

13. Amendment to the above: Cheat, Go Fish, and Snap are not excluded from this, on account of not traditionally being betting games. You may think that will prevent you from losing money. This will not prevent you from losing money.

14. A reminder to all Officers, Officers Schneider and Wilde are not to be in the same room together especially if they're both armed.

15. Whenever Detective Wilde is entering the station don't yell out "The British are coming!" Officer Fangmeyer is still recovering from broken ribs.

16. Reminder to all officers, trying to scare Detective’s Wilde and Hopps is generally a bad idea.

17. Reminder to all Officers, posting photos of new equipment on Furbook is now banned.

18. Don't EVER put a muzzle on Detective Wilde's office desk. Whoever did it, I hope you’re happy that he has to now spend a week in therapy. Seriously, we don’t need one of our best Detectives going into shock.

19. Do not, under any circumstance, show Detective Hopps anything Creepypasta related. The last time she saw Jeff the Kitty, she refused to let go of Detective Wilde until he passed out.

20. No one is allowed to use the Ion Cannon in storage. We don’t know what it does or why it’s there.

21. To all officers, stop trying to setup Chief Bogo with another mammal. Last time we had to rescue him from a cross dressing tiger and his friends.

22. Clawhauser is to stop playing matchmaker. It did well with Hopps and Wilde but not so good with others. See previous rule for proof.

23. Detective Wilde is not allowed to pick the movies on Movie Friday anymore. Many are still in trauma counselling.

24. Detective Wilde is not allowed to sing Happy, it caused every Officers in the station to break out dancing.

25. No one is allowed to play the Police Story Movie Series in the station, except on Movie Friday.

26. No one is to play the British Grenadiers within Detective Wilde's hearing distance, he may be an excellent singer, but it does get annoying.

27. All Officer patrolling the slums must wear a stab proof vest. We don’t need another incident where Detective Hopps-Wilde nearly became a Widow.

28. FOR THE LOVE OF ASLAN DON'T PLAY WITH Detective WILDE'S POISON CONTAINER FROM THE SAS.

29. Who played with Detective Wilde's EMP Grenades again? All the Police Cruiser's electronics are fried.

30. All Narcotics Operations are to be jointly operated with the ZDEA, not go out and do an Anti-Drug War with the Cartel, Detective Wilde was spotted wearing Combat Gear with an M4 during one of the Raids.

31. No matter what, Detective Wilde is not to be disturb during his investigation unless it's important.

32. Stop telling the Rookies that Detective Wilde is James Bond.

33. Who gave Wilde military grade super glue?! He somehow glued his tail to the ceiling of the station and it took a long time to get him down!

34. We all know you like Guns N Rodents, Detective Hopps, but whenever you're entering the Rainforest District don't play "Welcome to the Jungle" through the sirens. Same goes for any officers.

35. If you have a backstage pass to a Gazelle concert, make sure to hide it from Chief Bogo and Clawhauser. Officers Delgato and Wolford were nearly trampled to death last time.

36. Only Detective Wilde is allowed to use the Ion Cannon, it seems that he knows what it does and how to handle it. He also has yet to shoot his tail off with it.

37. Reminder to all Officers, Detective Wilde is only allowed to use a Baton in non-lethal situations.

38. Even though Wilde is British doesn't mean he's a stereotype, even if he does like drinking tea.

39. No one is to bet a Schneider vs Wilde fight, Schneider involved the GSG9 and Wilde involved the SAS.

40. No trying arrest a badger because he "stepped on your tail" this means you, Wilde.

41. Whoever keeps putting up bunny/fox adoption papers, please stop. Detective Wilde and Detective Hopps-Wilde become unavailable for the rest of the day when this happens.

42. Reminder to all Officers to not allow any more male bunnies to be in sight of Detective Wilde or Detective Hopps. We don't need another flirting incident.

43. It is now banned to arrest the driver of the ice-cream truck and "confiscate" all of the truck's merchandise because he wouldn't stop. (We're looking at you Officers Fangmeyer, Wilde, and Schneider.)

44. Whoever put up pictures of Detective Hopps getting changed around the station, be aware that none of us will subdue him when Detective Wilde finds you; he WILL find you.

45. Do not even joke that there is someone named Shere Kahn here to see Wilde about his time in the secret service. Last time this happened Detective Wilde disappeared for two weeks and Detective Hopps-Wilde was crying her eyes out.

46. Detective Wilde is to take home all of his personal gear immediately. We can't keep replacing every computer and electronic device in the precinct every time someone uses an EMP grenade.

47. Detective Wilde is no longer allowed to bring personal equipment to work without permission. A Stinger missile launcher isn't police gear.

48. Detective Wilde is allowed to use the ion cannon. He somehow knows how to use it.

49. Do not ask Detective Wilde about his time in the secret service. Last time this happened Detective Wilde freaked out and disappeared for a week, you know I’m starting to see a pattern here.

50. To all Officers, stop baiting Clawhauser to doing your paperwork through the use of donuts and cereals. Be responsible for your own work and Clawhauser is on a diet!

51. No one is to ever label fox repellent as Genuine Zooisiana hot sauce EVER again, Hopps is still crying in my office and Wilde is still being treated for the blindness that was caused by it.

52. Remember kids, fire hot. Someone should probably make a note on that.

53. Attention officers, attention, remember to work the shaft. Wilde we know this was you.

54. If it wasn’t clear before it is now, By no means are Wilde and Hopps allowed in the copy room together and apparently I need a new secretary.

55. Do not use the mini-gun. Half of our officers are still in the hospital.

56. Do not prank Officer Hopps with anything ghost related. Wilde took an hour to literally drag her out of her home because she believed there was a ghost at the station.

57. Reminder to all officers, do not pull pranks that involve any hot sauce or Ghost Peppers. Some of our officers still have ice packs on their tongue.

58. Don't ask why Wilde has the British Flag and a London Metropolitan Police Bobby Helmet on his desk.

59. New Patrol Cars maybe bulletproof, but that doesn't mean it's a target for target practice.

60. All Officers must use the code 10-8 if you’re on duty.

61. All detectives must have their badges on the at all times, I really don’t want another incident where the Mayor mistook Detective Wilde for some shady business man.

62. I don't care how, but Detective Wilde is forever banned from using TASERS so stop giving him TASERS. We really don’t want another ‘king’ incident again do we?

63. Yes, Detective Wilde, we get that you are a Doctor Who fan, especially Sir John Hurt.

64. We don’t need the constant thing of The United Kingdom leaving the EU, Detective Wilde is still trying to deal with the other British Citizens here who have started to break out in riots. This is quite possibly the first time Detective Wilde has used any standard Police equipment properly.

65. Please do not mention Gazelle in front of either Detective Hopps-Wilde or Clawhauser, it took us three hours to get them both to shut up.

66. Officer Cody, there are no contingency orders that tell you to kill/subdue any of the Detectives on the force.

67. Alright, which one of you lot petitioned for Detective Wilde to be removed from the Force?

68. Please, who ever brought the little Vixen into the precinct, bring her again, she’s adorable.

69. Alright, who gave Wilde (Both of them) Coffee? They’ve locked themselves in their Office and frankly I believe that you can all here them from where you are.

70. Detective Wilde, please call your mother, this is the seventeenth time she’s called in at the front desk. PS. We now know your actual first name.

71. Please refrain from commenting that Detective Wilde acts like Conan from the Anime Detective Conan when he finally solves a case.

72. Who created a real Phantom Thief, who is based off Magic Kaito 1412?

73. Could someone please explain to Detective Hopps-Wilde what the previous rule is?

74. Reminder to all Officers, Detective Wilde is an Authorized Firearms Officer, and his Unmarked Squad Car is a moving armoury.

75. Kevlar Vests are now Standard issue and must worn at all times.

76. This a warning to all racists Officers, you are outnumbered 100 to 1 and Wilde has a Pranking/Torture arsenal.

77. Detective Wilde: you may be a detective now, but that does not give you an excuse to dress up like Furlock Holmes on the job. That bubble-blowing Meerkatz pipe is simply ridiculous.

78. To all feline officers of Precinct One: having roaring contests at the station is expressly forbidden.

79. Officer McHorn: from now on when your office door is jammed please wait for a locksmith instead of charging at it with your horn. According to the contractor that was a supporting wall you nearly destroyed.

80. To whoever pumped helium into the chief's office before he passed out the morning assignments, your commanding officer is not amused.

81. To whoever told Detective Hopps-Wilde about Detective Wilde's Playbunny magazines, he has sworn vengeance.

82. Just because the chief is a Buffalo that does not mean that he is angered by the colour red like a bull gets. The fact that Bogo automatically gets aggravated at the sight of Detective Wilde (Wilde's fur being red and all) is purely a coincidence.

83. The hoses on armoured police vehicles are not to be used as showers. I don't care how clean you may get or how funny it is to see bald patches on Detective Wilde's fur we cannot afford the clean-up from flooding the garage... for the fifth time this month

84. When Detective Wilde warns you about someone conning you, listen to him. The ZPD budget is still recovering after the whole fake Gazelle autograph incident.

85. To the practical joker who subscribed Chief Bogo to the Gazelle Gossip magazine, the joke is on you: he's already a subscriber

86. No one is to mention the word "neuter" in the building. It took the whole day to find the male felines, lupines, and the vulpine.

87. NO VIXENS IN SIGHT OF DETECTIVE HOPPS-WILDE OR DETECTIVE WILDE!

88. Do NOT ask Judy's parents if they had vasectomy yet.

89. NEVER underestimate Detective Hopps-Wilde. We have now learned she can beat anybody to a pulp in a sparring match, including Chief Bogo.

90. Reminder to all officers: just because Wilde is a designated firearms officer, doesn’t mean he's a sniper. Also, don't request for any weapons for the armoury, we can't have a Barrett m107 .50 or an M240, we also can't have AT4's.

91. Detective Wilde is only allowed to sing at Karaoke Saturdays.

92. Please don't disturb Detective Wilde, both of them, when they are explaining their deductions.

93. Reminder to all Racists Officers Detective Wilde is armed for a reason.

94. The new Helicopters are for police work not Romantic Flights.

95. Detective Wilde is not Sherlock Holmes.

96. All officer in Precinct 1 must sign a pact to eat Clawhauser's donut everyday at least once. He was supposed to be 'weight reduced' to normal level of fitness.

97. To any officer out there who using police superbike as patrol vehicle, DO NOT give Detective Wilde and Detective Hopps YOUR SUPERBIKE KEY.

98. To any officer who think bringing Clawhauser's family to 'Bring Your Family To Work' day, DON'T. We can't have Clawhauser being scolded for being 'fat'. It reduces Clawhauser's work productivity. And there's a reason why he doesn't live with his family again.

99. - All officer must not pushes Chief Bogo to give you case. When there is no case, there is no case. I'm watching you, Hopps.

100. For the last time, who brings laser to Precinct 1? The productivity of Precinct 1 dropped to zero just because all officer chased after it.

101. ALRIGHT, WHO BROUGHT THE LASER HERE?

102. To all officers, Officer Moon Moon is to be supervised by at least one officer at all times. He's a new recruit and a walking hazard when left unsupervised. Just ask Grizzoli in the infirmary.

103. No more bringing of pets in the precinct, especially spiders. The giant huntsman spider Officer Fangton brought is still on the loose and a third of the force won't come in until it has been caught.

104. Detective Wilde, do not take advantage of Officer Moon Moon's gullibility. The poor guy lost his first pay check when you tricked him into playing cards with you.

105. If anyone, only Detective Wilde is allowed to refer to Detective Hopps-Wilde as "cute". Anyone else risks her fury.

106. WHY ARE THERE ZOMBIES IN THE PRECINCT?!

107. Whoever dressed up as those zombies, your commanding officer is not pleased.

108. NEVER say that you hate pop-star Gazelle in front of Clawhauser. Even though he is not physically fit, he is still a cheetah.

109. To whoever put the nude photo of gazelle in chief’s paperwork you have parking duty for a month. And I'm looking at you Wilde.

110. No one is to mention Detective Wilde’s ex-wife. It was hard enough to explain to Detective Hopps-Wilde.

111. Detective Garfield we don't care how much of a jerk you think your partner Lieut. Nirmal is, so stop spamming HR with requests to get him transferred to Abu Dhabi.

112. While we are on the subject of Detective Garfield, no one's to tell him when the cafeteria is serving Italian, last time he found out he barricade himself in there and by the time we broke down the door half the food was gone.

113. No Detective Wilde, you did not learn everything you need to know in kindergarten.

114. Notice to the motor pool, for now on all porcupine officers are on permanent motorcycle duty as we can afford to keep fixing car seats every time they come back from patrol.

115. Will you all stop harassing officer Bellwether, he had nothing to do with his insane cousin’s anti-predator plot.

116. Okay apparently you idiots disregarded the last note and now officer Bellwether got himself transferred to Los Santos, claiming he'd rather be shot than harass, so I hope you all enjoy the mandatory week long species tolerance seminar.

117. Don't let Detective Hopps-Wilde drink any form of energy drink (besides coffee). She already has plenty of energy, and doesn't need more.

118. Officer Mchorn is injured at the moment and Officer Moon Moon needs a new partner. Again, don't leave Moon Moon unsupervised.

119. To the one dressed as a Ninja, Detective Wilde and the rest of the Authorized Firearms Unit are hunting you.

120. Will someone catch that Phantom Thief!

121. Reminder to all Officers, if a Military tank got stolen like San Francisco, please do not ask Wilde for Anti-Tank Weapons.

122. Please do not use the Riot Armor to be RoboCop.

123. No, we will not add attack helicopters to our arsenal.

124. Whoever keeps playing those Hyena Gomez CDs please stop, her shrieking gives half the station a headache.

125. To whoever rigged up the riot tank speakers to play 'let the bodies hit the floor' whenever the water cannon is fired, the Chief is willing to overlook this offense if you help setup his home theatre system.

126. If some whacked job manages to steal a tank like that time in San Dingo, don't go asking detective wilde for a rocket launcher, besides that's what the secondary tank full of industrial adhesive attached to the riot tanks water cannon is for.

127. Lieut. Nokiayama the precincts head corner would like to remind everyone that just because he's a raccoon dog, he doesn't have mystical powers like in Japanese mythology, so please stop trying to grab his crotch thinking it will bring you good luck, he has his ancestor’s katana and he knows how to use it.

128. Do not ask Detective Wilde about his family. He does not want talk about. He had a break down last week. If this rule is broken you will be punished by the chief.

129. To all officers, firearms are supposed to be used in emergency situations only, not in trying to kill the giant huntsman spider Officer Fangton lost. It was last seen in the armoury.

130. Do not tempt Officer Schneider with beer, Detective Wilde with tea, and Hopps with carrots. They will find out where you live.

[danganronpa-ea]

Chapter 4 Blacken’s Free Time Events

So counting this is spoiler and if you haven’t read chapter 4, then please do ready them before you continue on this, this is a warning!

A world where those that didn’t make it or just couldn’t survive the cruel world get a chance here, A world where things are right… A world where death never happen.

 I had look at the 2 remaining buttons, they were still there and both of the 2 were killers in the trial so I guess I’ll… start with Kita-san.

 As then a puff of smoke appears as he looks around then turn to me. “Oh, Fuji-san – seems you wanted to speak with me in my dreams, correct?” He asked which I nodded. “I figure I would talk with you some more so would you be okay with that?” I asked which he nodded. “You really didn’t need to ask but sure…” He spoke.

 Kita Jobon’s Free Time Events

 As then me and Kita-san starting talking for quite a bit, he taught me various firearms and warfare that I though I never knew which was interesting…

 Looks like Kita-san and I grew a bit closer or I think so, I couldn’t tell…

 As then I took out what look to be a dog tag of some kind that seems to be for the army which I handed it to him as he look it over. “Thank you, I’ll take this with me so thanks…” He stated as putting it in him pocket…

 Kita-san had his arms cross as he thought it over. “I really don’t get why you approach me when your not interested in guns,…” He stated which I was surprise. “Well I want to know everyone so I figure I get to know more about you honestly.” I told him which he tilted his head to the side.

 “Ah, so that’s it… I usually had a hard time with people around my age honestly…” He spoke which I was curious. “Really? You seem to speak pretty normally to me and the others.” I told him which he shook his head. “Well yes that’s because your easier to handle then kids who I tend to have more trouble with…” He admitted.

 I see so Kita-san isn’t very good at kids as then he looks to the side as crossing his arms. “I mean, I don’t hate kids or anything like that but I just have reasons I don’t trust myself around them…” He informs me which I thought it over.

 What reason would Kita-san not trust himself around children…

 >Kids could get his gun

-Kids don’ like you much

-Your too cool for kids

 “I would assume is that a kid could grab a gun if I had to guess, right?” I asked which the sniper nodded. “Indeed, as say I don’t hate children as one may think but I just feel more of a danger to kids since some could try and grab it which they could end up shooting themselves…” He told me.

 I guess that would freak him out, I did recall Inoue-chan was curious about it and he didn’t want her to touch it. “Then what about you? I mean were your parents the same?” I asked as he nodded quickly. “Very much so, I was warned quite a bit to not touch the guns and even told to not bring guns to school so there isn’t a school shooter… I even recall that is an issue in California so I try to avoid that.” He stated which I notice something.

 “Hm, your from America?” I asked which he seem surprise. “Oh, I thought it was obvious – while I am Japanese my parents move to America as the 2 had jobs there, so honestly English does come easy for me.” He stated which I was shock.

 Well, now that explains why he and Norman-san seem to be around each other or look to be friends…

 Kita Jobon, Ultimate Sniper FTE – 3/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As then me and Kita-san starting talking for quite a bit, he taught me various firearms and warfare that I though I never knew which was interesting…

 Looks like Kita-san and I grew a bit closer or I think so, I couldn’t tell…

 As then I took out a cup of coffee as then I gave it to him, he smiled a bit as he nodded – seeming to give thanks, not sure if that’s a good reaction or not but he seems happy.

 I still couldn’t get over the fact that Kita-san is American, he tends to act pretty polite and quiet compare to Norman-san which I had to ask. “So, seeing as your American – does that mean you can speak English?” I asked which he gave a nod. “Well yes, I can speak it pretty well and even a few other languages as well but when me and Norman-san came together I had agreed to be his translator.” He stated which I was even more shock.

 I know Norman-san didn’t know Japanese that well but still, the fact that Kita-san is his translator was pretty curious. “So Norman-san has a hard time understanding Japanese?” I asked which the sniper nodded. “Yes – he tends to not speak it very well and even refers to people by first name which I have warn him to try and be respectful…” He told me which I nodded.

 At he has been warn about it but I guess Americans can be difficult to deal with as then I question. “So how long you and Norman-san knew each other for?” I asked as he thought it over. “Well – we met fairly recently, actually when we got on the plane, he ask me if I could translate for him since he’s still trying to learn the Japanese language.” He stated as I gave a nod,

 So the 2 aren’t that close but it’s interesting to learn that Kita-san is from American but is Japanese as then Kita-san did recall something. “Aside from that – during my time in America, I think kids always found odd how I tend to be when it comes to shooting games.” He told me as giving a frown. “Maybe it’s due to my not being that expressive but I do try.” He told me which I couldn’t but not deny it.

 I mean, Kita-san can be nice but yeah he isn’t exactly the most expressive from what I’ve seen with him when he interacts with the others as then I smiled at him. “Well, maybe try and smile more? It could help lighten up a bit or maybe you can show that you can be fun.” I told him which he thought it over.

 “I… never consider that, but I’ll consider it thank you.” He stated which I nodded.

 There was quite a bit I learn from Kita-san and I couldn’t help but be interested in him, so maybe him expressing himself will help him out.

 Kita Jobon, Ultimate Sniper FTE – 4/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As then me and Kita-san starting talking for quite a bit, he taught me various firearms and warfare that I though I never knew which was interesting…

 Looks like Kita-san and I grew a bit closer or I think so, I couldn’t tell…

 I then took out a water bottle and gave it to him which he look to me. “Well thank you, I’ll glad take this…” He say with a small smile as he put it away.

 “Fuji-san, I thought over what you say and honestly… I think I could try and be more expressive or even learn from the others since you kept talking with me.” He told him which I gave a nod as I had a smile on my face. “Well that’s good, I’m glad to hear that! I think everyone could learn to express themselves a bit more honestly.” I told him as he gave a nod.

 “Indeed, I mean I always wanted to try other things outside of guns or maybe not bring my gun everywhere unless I’m ask, so I think I’ll keep it in my room and try to enjoy myself and find activities; I mean I don’t like movie theatres much, maybe playing videos games or maybe try those kit kats that everyone says I would like for some reason… there is a lot I could try and enjoy.” He explains as listing over things that he wishes to try.

 I just nodded along and hear him talk. “Well, whatever you enjoy I’m sure it’ll be a nice thing to do to feel safe here without having your gun out.” I told him which he look to me with a smile.

 “Yes, your right… there are still many things I don’t really understand or feel myself connect with others but I think with your help I understood that so thank you.”

 He spoke to me, seeming certain as ever about the things he wanted to do and the best part he wishes to try them out, maybe he might even learn how to make friends with everyone.

 I couldn’t help but feel like me and Jobon-san became pretty good friends by the end or at least had a genuine bond.

 Kita Jobon, Ultimate Sniper FTE – 5/5

 Congrats you have finish up all Free time events with Kita Jobon; give yourself a pat on the back!

 After that me and Jobon-san started to talk a bit more, about various things that weren’t related to guns and warfare, I was not aware that the conversation could be this lively if being totally honest.

 But then when he disappears, I realize… he would never get to do any of that stuff which I sighed as then I look down at the last button…

 I guess I should speak with Norman-san…

 When he appears which he looks to be looking down, as if ashamed about something which then he looks to me. “Well… I guess I was wrong, right?” He asked which I look to the side as to not admit it which he sighed noticing my expression. “Yeah, from that expression – I can tell I made a mistake thinking that Miwa was the one handing out motives…” He commented.

 I couldn’t help but frown as then he shook his head. “We-Well, let’s try and speak for a moment I guess for I move on or whatever…” He told me.

 Hanlon Norman’s Free Time Events!

 After that me and Norman-san started talking for a bit, despite his rude way of speaking he was being quite expressive and quite fun to talk with and admittedly, I was having fun talking with him.

 Seems like the 2 of us grew closer… I think? I’m not sure.

 As then I reach in and found these crackers that kids would enjoy as I hand it over to him which he got all starry eyed. “Oh dang, for me? Thank you so much!” He thanked me as taking it.

 Suddenly Norman-san pointed to me. “Still Fuji, you have quite a bit in common; both of us like being on the center of the stage but it still surprises me you don’t express yourself as much, huh?” He asked me which I look around confused as I try to understand what he means by that.

 “Well maybe it’s due to cultural differences and our careers? Seeing as I’m a public speaker, I have to be quite certain with my words, check over my speech and be as formal and polite as I can be even to the point of having good memory.” I explained to him which I guess would be understandable since he’s American.

 Which I notice he gave a nod. “I guess it would make sense our profession would be quite different since the audience I have is more for children and family and likely yours is more towards teenagers and adults, correct?” He asked which I gave a nod.

 I think he did notice that that pretty quickly, he does seem to pick up on that stuff…

“I do recall that usually being my audience when it comes to public speeches since they can get a bit boring for children and are often of serious topics…” “Like what?” He asked, as growing curious of me which I thought it over. “Well ranging from sexism, orphanage system, cheating and various other issues…” I brought up which he tilted his head in confusion.

 I think it seems to be disconnected here as he didn’t understand the issue. “Really? Those are issues here in Japan – I mean I thought we got over that stuff and I don’t think those are issues actually if anything it’s pretty common where I am.” He told me which I was surprise how lax he was…

 But yet again I guess it wouldn’t be much of an issue for him…

 Hanlon Norman, Ultimate Ringmaster FTE – 2/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 After that me and Norman-san started talking for a bit, despite his rude way of speaking he was being quite expressive and quite fun to talk with and admittedly, I was having fun talking with him.

 Seems like the 2 of us grew closer… I think? I’m not sure.

 As then I pick out what look to be a translation book that I think Norman-san could use which I gave it to him which he gave me a strange look. “Well I guess I do need this, thank you very much.” He thanked me, I wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

 There was something I wonder about and was curious to ask him. “Norman-san, you mention before those issues are common – did you ever deal with them?” I asked which he shrugged. “Well of those three, I dealt with being an orphan…” He told me which I was surprise to learn about this as then he continues.

 “My mom died of sickness and my dad died of a freak accident, I mean it happens when you work in any environment but that means the entire circus turns to me to take over… especially when you could have gotten killed.” He commented which I frown for a moment.

 I guess it must be cultural differences with this one but he does seem ungrateful. “Really? You would of gotten killed…?” I asked which he stare at me. “I recall there was a fire that happen once at our circus, one of the guys accidently cause a fire and well we try to file out people one by one however I notice… my dad was nowhere to be found.” He brought up which I was nervous as then he crosses his arms as he frowns.

 “I decided to go and search for him, I mean I had no idea where he was but then out of nowhere one of the poles that was on fire snapped and almost fell on top of me but my old man, he… push me out of the way and the pole landed on him which I try to get him out but I wasn’t very strong so I told the others to help me get him out which we did but…” He went silent as I waited.

 My face went darken for to think what happen after that which he notice. “If your wondering, no he didn’t die but we did save him but because he was in there for too long and it took paramedics to arrive on scene, my dad died on the way to the hospital… which well, you see what happen after.” He gave a gesture to himself.

 Which I guess he didn’t seem too happy about it as then I nodded. “But it seems like he save you so shouldn’t you be grateful?” I asked which he nodded. “Yes I should, since I was plan to take over anyway but personally, it was too soon since I had to deal with various things like taxes, locations and things an owner at the age of 8 shouldn’t have to deal with.” He told me which I went pale.

 “Wait, you were that young?!” I asked which he nodded. “Yes, I was pretty young when it happen and the scars from the fire are gone but even then… I don’t try to let it get to me since we have work to do after all.” He told me which I went silent.

 I thought he was being ungrateful but if anything, he never really had time to properly mourn…

 Hanlon Norman, Ultimate Ringmaster FTE – 3/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 After that me and Norman-san started talking for a bit, despite his rude way of speaking he was being quite expressive and quite fun to talk with and admittedly, I was having fun talking with him.

 Seems like the 2 of us grew closer… I think? I’m not sure.

 I took out what look to be a red cloth which I gave to him which he gave me a huge smile. “Damn, you really know what to give Fuji so thanks!” He thanked me as he stuffed into his pocket.

 As then he went quiet for a moment, I… wasn’t sure how to approach that conversation with Norman-san which he took notice of my silence. “Huh? Are you still torn up about what I say – like I say I don’t get too bother by it…” He told me which I shook my head.

 “Well yeah, I mean you were pretty young at that age, actually did you do Shinto?” I asked him which he seem confused. “Shinto, what’s that – I’ve heard being toss around back at my home state but don’t know much about it, y’know?” He told me which I went silent.

 I guess it must be one of those cultural differences again as then I began to explain…

 “Shinto is a period of mourning, it last for 49 days for the family which once a week they will visit the grave to place fresh flowers and to burn incense. On the 3rd, 7th and 49th days they will have a short memorial service at the site, led by the Shinto priest. During these 49 days, the family cannot participate in any form of celebration or entertainment.” I told him which he seem really surprise by this.

 “Wo-Wow, that’s… quite a interesting way to do that, I know Japan has a Buddhist religion – wait hold on, are you religious?” He asked as I gave a nod. “Well yes, my family were Buddhist, so I think when I heard you never got to mourn properly rather shock me…” I admitted which He sighed.

 “Well sorry but in America we don’t do that stuff, I mean I can’t say I’m religious or even go to church often, I think I tend to hate when people push stuff into me, y’know cause honestly if you keep forcing you beliefs onto others – they’ll grow to hate it more…” He explained as I went silent. “Then maybe you can learn from yourself?” I asked which he seem surprise.

 “Hu-Huh? Oh, ye-yeah I guess I do tend to get a bit too much for people, huh? We-Well, I’ll see if I can try since you seem like a really charming lady~.” He stated which I cross my arms and frown.

 Which cause him to look nervous. “So-Sorry, I’ll listen…” He say as his face went red.

 I… really hope he does listen…

 Hanlon Norman, Ultimate Ringmaster FTE – 4/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 After that me and Norman-san started talking for a bit, despite his rude way of speaking he was being quite expressive and quite fun to talk with and admittedly, I was having fun talking with him.

 Seems like the 2 of us grew closer… I think? I’m not sure.

 As then I decided to give him what look to be a set of puzzles that are hard to do. “Oh dang, your giving me this? I’ll gladly take it!” He spoke as he took it, clearly he was excited for this gift and I couldn’t be more happy.

 “Hey uh… Okamoto-san?” He asked which… I was surprise by what he say, did he address me properly as then he got all embarrassed as he spoke. “I uh… thought over what you say and decided to go and try to learn Japanese better, like I say I can’t rely on Jobon-kun with translating and I figure I start somewhere, y’know?” He say as I couldn’t help but be surprise.

 It… honestly was weird that he try to learn Japanese and speak it properly as I gave a worried smiled. “Well don’t try so hard, I think it’s good your actually trying to learn but hey more power to ya, Norman.” I spoke as trying to sound American as possible.

 Which he picks up quickly as he gave me this shock expression. “Ho-Hold on, did you refer to me without using those suffix’s – I mean damn, I’m still trying to get use to it but you just did it so simply…” He admitted as he look down embarrassed as I laugh a bit. “Well counting English is one of the languages I know, Norman – I even know some slang and it is part of my talent so I’m glad your learning.” I told him which cause his face to go red.

 I wasn’t too sure if it was due to compliments or some else he mutter a bit…

 “We-Well, it’s thanks to you for not trying to force me to do certain things and even being patient with me so uh… thanks, heh – if you keep treating me like this I might actually fall for you, y’know?”

 He spoke as he look away from me, his face clearly flustered from the reaction, it was oddly charming in a way and even then I couldn’t help but laugh as I rustle his hair.

 Something tells me that I grown to respect Norman-san, despite his rude nature and even how heated he can get – he can be sweet in his own way…

 I surely felt bond between myself and the Ringmaster.

 Hanlon Norman, Ultimate Ringmaster FTE – 5/5

 Congrats you have finish up all Free time events with Hayashi Ryoko; give yourself a pat on the back!

 After a while I began to help Norman-san with how to speak Japanese, teaching him the various terms and meaning – even giving him some word puns which he pick up on which I couldn’t be more happier.

 But sadly…

 I knew that it couldn’t be possible since he is dead which as he disappears, I sighed as I got up as I turn away from the garden as walking over to Hamoponi.

 I look to the horse which he look to me. “You don’t seem as happy, hm?” He asked which I nodded. “I just… really hope it’s the last time I visit this place.” I say as I took my leave.

 I didn’t want to be here anymore…

[flutteringphalanges]

                                         Mirabile Visu

Summary: Sister Agatha Van Helsing discovers she’s in over her head when a competitive game of chess ultimately results in her becoming pregnant with the child of her worst enemy, Count Dracula. Now tied by a bond deeper than blood, the two must learn to coexist and adapt in a world that could be potentially hostile towards their offspring. Parenthood has never looked so batty.

Characters: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapter: 10 (Part Two)/?

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Thank you all for your kind words and ongoing support! It means the world! I hope you enjoy! I don’t want to say too much because this chapter is, well...you’ll see. Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

                                     Chapter Ten (Part Two)

                                     The Jonathan Harker Foundation

                                                    Present Time

Sorina had seen countless action movies throughout her lifetime, yet none had exactly prepared her for the situation she faced now. Within moments, several guards had found their way to their location and the halfling found herself being knocked backwards as Agatha pushed her out of the path of a loaded rifle. She stumbled, catching herself as her eyes fell on her mother, the vampire slamming the armed man into the wall.

"Go!"

It was her mother's voice that pulled the young woman from her haze. Sorina blinked, resembling a deer in the headlights as Agatha shoved two more soldiers aside. It took Jack grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her down the hall to completely snap back into reality. Gunshots sounded, but it was too unclear whether they belonged to Zoe or the Foundation. As they reached one of the doors, they were greeted by another member of the facility's security, this one burlier than the others.

"Jack, watch out!"

She had just enough time to duck as the former graduate student swung the bat, hitting the man's weapon hard. It was a short lived victory, Sorina watching in horror as the guard swung his gun, striking Jack's side as if he had been weilding a baton. There was a crunch and the young man let out a yelp of pain, gripping what she could only assume were cracked ribs.

Sorina had never understood the expression of "seeing red". But now, after witnessing the attack on him, she launched herself towards Jack's assailant. Grasping his shoulders, they crashed onto the ground. It only took a brief struggle before the halfling's foot made contact with his chin. She kicked. Hard. Once. Twice. When the man didn't move, she stepped backwards, breathing heavy and body trembling.

"Sunny?"

"Jack!" Sorina turned to the young man who moved towards her, trying to hide the wince of pain he made with each step. "Jack, I'm so sorry, are-"

"Are you okay?!"

She almost laughed at his question. At his concern as his worried eyes searched her face for any signs of discomfort. He, after all, had been the one injured. Not her. And yet here he was, only caring about her well being.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "I just...didn't think I had that energy in me." Sorina's eyes fell to Jack's hand and the area it so gingerly touched.

"I'll be fine," he said with a weak smile. "I've dealt with worse." Even though she wasn't

convinced, he nodded towards the door. "C'mon," he urged. "Let's go save your dad."

                                                             XXX

Zoe stood with her back facing the direction Jack and Sorina ran from, her gun pointed towards one of the men pinned against the wall. She'd never had official training when it came to firearms, maybe a day's worth of explanation and demonstration on how to use it properly. But she knew well enough how to unlock the safety and pull the trigger.

"Left side of the chest," Agatha grunted, nodding towards the mercenary. "Over the logo, it's a weak point."

She hesitated. The scientist couldn't help but do so. But when she caught the man reaching for his stake, she fired. The figure immediately stopped struggling and slumped forward. Agatha cast him aside as if he were a rag doll. For a nun and someone whose life was dedicated to compassion, to saving others, the vampire was far from showing it now.

"You okay?"

There was concern in the vampire's tone as Agatha knocked another guard out of the way just as they fired a bullet, the missile just missing its target-Zoe. The woman panted, nodding as nausea twisted within her. It wasn't the fact that she most likely killed someone. No. It was more so that it had been ages since her body had used this much energy. Abuse.

"Just need to catch my breath," she nodded, leaning against the wall. Her legs threatened to collapse, but she knew she couldn't allow them. Mind over matter. In the distance, she could hear the pounding of more feet. "Can you handle them alone?"

"Go help Sorina and Jack," the vampire stated as if to answer the question. "You know this place better than me."

Zoe nodded, turning on her heels and running down the hallway. It didn't take long to find the other two, Jack desperately trying to fiddle with the keypad as Sorina watched anxiously. She tried not to look at the body by her feet. Unsure if the man was alive or not. Had Sorina done that?

"I can't bloody get in," the young man sighed, smacking the numbers with his hand.

"Try 1897," the scientist suggested.

1897. If The Foundation was stupid enough to use "Dracula" as the WiFi password, than surely they would use the year that the idea for this place came to be. When Jack typed in the numbers, the square lit up a bright green and the steel doors slid open. Zoe smirked as both Sorina and Jack turned to her, grinning ear to ear.

"The Foundation may be ruthless," Zoe commented. "But when it comes to the simple things, they sure let their guard down."

Jack did his best to stand up straighter, trying to ignore the panging ache in his side. His fingers tightened around his bat and he found himself leaning against it for support. "And to think you insisted on having me hired here," he teased, attempting to light the mood as he met his mentor's stare. "I wonder if that market by my flat is still hiring."

"Oh shove off," the woman said, rolling her eyes. "You and I both know you don't regret a thing." And he followed her gaze to where Sorina stood, momentarily preoccupied with pulling her hair back.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "You're right about that."

                                                          XXX

Dracula had been pacing the length of his confinement for hours now, looking for the smallest weak point that would allow him to break free. To rescue Agatha. To kill each and every person in this facility. To destroy Bloxham. But try as he might, his luck had seemed to bottom. His stare bore into the concert ground as he heard the entrance open, sharp fingernails digging into his palms. He could only assume it was the guards who, for some reason, had hurried left the room to deal with an apparent greater issue.

"You do realize," he growled. "You cannot contain me forever and once you slip up-"

"Dad!"

His previous fumes of anger were extinguished by the familiar sound of his daughter's voice. Dracula looked up so quickly, he nearly gave himself whiplash. Though he noted both Zoe's and Jack's presence in the room, his attention fell on Sorina. Emotions. Confused. Pride. Concern. It was almost comical how fast his expression changed.

"Sorina," he began. "What are you doing here?!"

"We're going to get you out," the halfing said, hurrying over to examine the prison. "Mum's out there handling the guards. We don't have a lot of time."

"Jack," Zoe said, catching the young man's eye. "See if you can find an override switch. Without a keycard, we can't have direct access, but like I said before. The Foundation is known for its unique designs."

"While I applaud your efforts-and really, I most certainly do, I implore you to escape," Dracula insisted, frowning as Sorina's hands danced against the glass like a tree frog's sticky toes. "You and your mother leave. I'll find a way out."

"No," Sorina said, her eyes not even meeting his as she continued her relentless search. "I'm not going to lose you guys. Not again."

"I would listen to your father if I were you." The voice echoed, cold, almost sneering as the clicking sound of heels filled the room. "Well, unfortunately, leaving is no longer an option. Such a terrible situation you've put me in."

Bloxham.

Sorina turned, her back against her father's cage as the doctor entered casually inside. A glint of metal caught her eye, and it didn't take a scientist to know it was a revolver. The woman seemed to notice her gaze and peered down, lips curved into smirk.

"Oh this?" The way she said it, the way the words leaked false innocence like venom, made Sorina's skin crawl. "You can never have too much protection."

"Let them go, Dr. Bloxham."

Zoe stood near Sorina, her grip on her own gun tightening. The woman moved closer to her niece, and the halfling soon realized that she was trying to get between them. A distraction. Bloxham cocked her head a frowned, letting out a long sigh.

"You were such a good scientist, Dr. Van Helsing," the middle aged woman exclaimed. "Even with that freak of a niece you have. To actually think at one point, I respected you," Bloxham pointed the gun at Zoe. "But I guess that cancer got to your brain. What a valuable mind to-"

BAM!

Jack struck the control panel hard with his bat, momentarily distracting Bloxham. Zoe, seizing the moment, knocked the woman backwards. Her disorientation didn't last long, and soon Zoe found herself thrust downwards. The handgun clattered to the ground, and Bloxham kicked it away with her foot. The scientist stood over the other woman, her eyes leering at her in a false sense of a victory. But before even Zoe could react, Sorina threw herself between them, both women hitting the wall hard.

"Why do you have to make things so difficult?" Bloxham hissed, blood dribbling from her temple. "It's not like you even cared in the first place."

There was another bang as Jack struck the device again, only this time, it began to spark. Out of the corner of her eye, Sorina noticed the slightest of slits in the doorway of her father's cage. She needed to keep Bloxham talking. Keep her preoccupied.

"They're my parents," she growled. "I never stopped loving them. I thought they were dead."

"And you came here in some ridiculous, valiant effort with the hopes of saving them?" Bloxham inquired. "I suppose it makes sense. Except," She reached over her head and for the first time, to her horror, Sorina saw the latch that opened the ceiling. "I think you might want to rethink your goal."

"Sorina!"

The halfling couldn't identify who was screaming her name as her eyes fixated on the opening above. It was as if time slowed down, a bright, white light cascading down and engulfing her very person. She wasn't sure what to expect. Pain. Agony. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. And she couldn't help but grin, laugh as she gazed up at the sun for the first time. Her eyes met her father's and Dracula appeared just as mesmerized. How were they not dead?

"Huh," Bloxham muttered. "Not exactly what I was expecting." Her mouth had twitched into a small frown and Sorina, still enamored by the sun, failed to notice the woman's attention on her. "Well, I suppose there's always another way."

Without another word, the woman pointed the gun straight at Sorina and fired.

[ruffiorocks]

Long Post on How Lena being ‘evil’ after the reveal would be a disservice to her entire character arc.

Extract from an interview with Jon Cyer: 

"If Lex does end up revealing the truth about Supergirl to Lena, it could have devastating impact. Kara herself attempted to reveal the truth to Lena but stopped as it became clear that the revelation would be extremely damaging to Lena after all of the lies and manipulations she's endured thanks to Lex. It's the kind of damage that would definitely fall under the label of "evil" and could even set up a major conflict for Supergirl next season."

What even is this statement? The last part doesn't even make sense:

"It's the kind of damage that would definitely fall under the label of "evil" and could even set up a major conflict for Supergirl next season."

Damage isnt evil, damage is just damage. It's not like you can have good damage. So Lena learning Kara is Supergirl would inflict damage and then she falls under the label of 'evil'? Completely destroying her as a character. This just says that Lena will immediately become evil (such a strong word) as soon as she learns Kara is Supergirl.

I'm sorry ... But what the actual f**k? So they're just going to go down the same road that Game of Thrones went with Dany in the last episode?

"I'm here to save people, not burn them"

5 mins later

"f**k you all I'm pissed off and I'm going to kill every man, woman and child because I can".

Supergirl writers like to borrow heavily from from Smallville. Well the Lex Luthor of Smallville wasnt immediately evil. Lex was actually a good guy at the start, he was a play boy but he wasnt really so bad. He did however have some moral grey areas. Lex was best friends with Clark, but from day one he was curious about how he managed to survive going off the bridge and the damage done to his car and no damage done to Clark. But Lex didnt immediately go after Clark, he genuinely loved and cared about him almost like a brother. It was Clark that kept going out of his way to keep lying to an overly curious Lex who gave him more than one opportunity to come clean to him. Lex was driven crazy because he knew there was something up with Clark but Clark kept acting like Lex was delusional. Lex was used and abused by his father who favored Clark from the moment he met him. But Lex did a lot of good things in the earlier series, he was ultimately always put down due to his name though. Visions of him in a white suit with blood rain just meant that no matter what Lex did his destiny was to be bad and thats how he would then be treated which ironically is what drove those visions to come true. 

So are they just going to recycle this with Lena? The only differences being that Lena hasnt done any evil things and she hasnt been trying to expose Kara because she's oblivious? 

Lena has literally done NOTHING but help Supergirl, National City and help save the world several times since she first appeared. Lena isn't perfect, she has a dark side when pushed to her limit, she went to shoot Edge because he was poisoning children. She even told Kara she went and did this. It wasn't a secret.

Lena is pro gun? Doesn't make her evil, it's not like people aren't trying to kill her every 5 minutes and soldier or not Alex is way to gun happy. Alex has also basically been an alcoholic who is in charge of firearms since she was first introduced.

Lena killed Adam? Lena made a mistake, one that is haunting her. She didn't hold a gun to Adams head and pull the trigger cackling like a maniac. I’ve said it once and ill say it again, if Lena is guilty of ‘murdering’ Adam then Jonn is 100% guilty of murdering Manchester Black, a man he had already disarmed and killed purely because Manchester taunted him and and Jonn got pissed off. Even Kara looked shocked when she asked where Manchester was, but then immediately she was fine with it and was like ‘dont worry, one murder doesn't mean you cant be a man of peace’. 

The biggest problem with Lena ‘turning evil’ after learning Kara is Supergirl is that that would would imply that Lena being a good person has been entirely dependent on her relationships with both Kara and Supergirl! What the hell? I mean i love Kara but she isnt a freaking God!! Lena’s personality has never been dependent on anyone but herself. Lena was a good person long before she ever set eyes on Kara or Supergirl. Lena was the one that dropped Lex in it remember? Why the hell would they reduce Lena from a complex character to a one dimensional character whose heroic and good personality was entirely dependent on her relationship with Kara/Supergirl?

That is exactly what they did to Kara in season 3, she stopped being ‘Kara Danvers’ the moment Mon El left because even though she had a life, job, a human family and friends and was Kara Danvers long before he showed up she suddenly couldn't be that person anymore because her boyfriend wasn't around? Her entire character was reduced to her being dependent solely on him? That’s not Mon El hate by the way, its hate for the writers. 

It would be ridiculous for Lena to instantly forgive Kara for lying her to. To be honest i would be more disappointed in Lena if she was absolutely OK with all of this rather than letting Kara know she’s royally f**ked up! Kara its true doesn't owe her identity to anyone, God even Lena probably would have questioned her if she had instantly revealed herself to her. But the problem is that Kara knows she can trust Lena, she has known this for years. Kara has also revealed her secret to people she has known for less time than she has known Lena and to people she barely knows at all (Nia). Yes she told Nia out of solidarity but Kara has had way more solidarity moments with Lena than she had with Nia. Plus Kara didn't really know Nia at all, Nia could have been playing her the whole time. Lena on the other hand is her best friend and has helped save the world, worked with the DEO and saved Supergirls life and ass many times over. 

Kara let the secret go on for far to long, in addition she told other people. Kara used the excuse that it was to keep Lena safe because her enemies would go after Lena. But that is just crap because Lena already has her own enemies, she deals with those enemies. Plus Kara never seemed to care that her enemies could have gone after Winn, James, Nia etc. It was a decent excuse in the beginning but then it became invalid the longer its gone on. Lena knowing Kara is supergirl would probably make her much safer in retrospect, Lena could have just called Kara or been given a fancy watch like a certain someone. The worst part though is that Kara has known since season 2 that Lillian Luthor knows who she is, she also knows that Lex Luthor knows who she is and Lena could have been told by them at any point. Lillian has had years to tell her and could of done. Kara has sat back and just hoped the Luthors wont out her? That is probably the worst story line Kara has EVER had! Kara may not want to hurt Lena with the truth but it would hurt way more coming form Lex!! Kara will reep what she sows here. 

On top of this Kara hasnt just been pretending to be two different people to Lena, she has been acting like Jekell and Hyde. Lena and Supergirl have come to an understanding over the whole Reign/Kryptonite issue, but Lena only thinks she's come to an understanding with Supergirl. Lena doesnt know that it was actually her best friend treating her like garbage and with hostility the whole time, then coming back to her as Kara and being all besties again. THAT RIGHT THERE is where the betrayal lies. It isnt that Kara kept being Supergirl a secret from her, its that Kara betrayed her trust as Supergirl and was horrible to her. Lena had Kryptonite purely to help try and save Sam, but Supergirl immediately took it all personally not really giving a second thought to Sam at all. She just assumed that Lena was out to get her and then she started to try and pull rank on Lena, but Supergirl was left gob smacked because low and behold Lena Luthor wasn't beholden to the Girl of Steel like Supergirl expected her to be. Supergirl was given a harsh lesson in where she actually stands in the authority department. 

To make it even worse Supergirl enlisted Lena’s then boyfriend to betray her trust and break into her company to spy on her to check she wasnt a liar. James actually does this without to much hesitation, he even enlists Winn’s help. That right there is four betrayals against Lena, where she only assumes it was the one. Lena forgave James, (i dont know why, he still broke into L Corp, he only grew a conscience at the very last second) and holds Supergirl responsible. Lena only thinks it was Supergirl who used her boyfriend against her. Lena will soon find out however that it wasnt just Supergirl, it was her best friend, her boyfriend and even Winn her other friend who all betrayed her. Lena is going to learn that all of the above was actually her the work of her best friend the entire time, then that best friend would come back to her and listen to her mention these betrayals. 

Back to James, James had absolutely no reason to throw Supergirl under the bus. He just ‘had to be honest with Lena’ ? How about you dont break into her personal property and betray her trust in the first place? James knew for a fact that Supergirl and Lena were having a beef, he knew full well that if Lena knew what Supergirl had asked him to do she would be even more hurt and angry at Supergirl but he did it anyway. This is exactly what happened because Lena told Kara that Supergirl had used the people she cares about against her and she can never trust her again. At least Kara had the good sense to look guilty. But the other side to this is that once Lena finds out that James knew it was actually ‘Kara’ that betrayed her she will be even more hurt. She will have been doubly betrayed by both Kara and James! 

Kara:

1. Treated her crap as Supergirl

2. Enlisted Lena’s boyfriend to betray her

James:

1. Actually did break into L Corp betraying Lena, for some bizarre reason was forgiven. Then he threw Supergirl under the bus to gain Lena’s trust without a thought to the lasting damage it would have. 

2. James actually knew the whole time it was Kara being an ass to Lena and it was Kara who was asking James to betray Lena. James then put the last nail in the coffin for Supergirl and Lena’s friendship, but at the same time allowed Lena to continue believing that Kara wasn't the one that betrayed her. James allowed Lena to employ/confide in and be around the very person she declared she could no longer trust. James even enlisted Winn to help betray Lena, Winn being one of Lena’s friends.

If Kara suffers in the aftermath, (which she will) then i want James to suffer the consequences of that betrayal as well. To those that would say ‘Lena is a liar and keeps secrets’ well Lena’s secrets have never directly had anything to do with the Superfriends, she doesn't keep them to hurt anyone, or tell them to hurt anyone. Lena doesn't have to tell Supergirl everything she is doing because Supergirl isnt her boss, she didn't have to tell James everything but she did actually reveal a lot to him. Lena actually told everyone about her super humans idea but they all dismissed it immediately, Lena doesn't have to stop though because some people dont approve. 

So to have Lena go bad after spending all of the time fighting Lex and Lillian, saving the alien population from genocide, saving the city from Daxamites, saving Supergirls life more than once, coming to work with the DEO even when she has beef with Supergirl, doing her best to try and help save Reign, manufacturing Harun El to make sure that Argo City never dies, begging Supergirl to let her die so she can save the people from the chemical on that plane, agreeing to marry Mon El to save a children's hospital, buying Cat Co to keep the free press free? Suddenly all that is erased because she is lied to by her best friend? NO! If lies and deceit were enough to send Lena over the edge it would have already happened, she can survive multiple betrayals and assassination attempts from her family, the people of National City making her a pariah, Rhea betraying her, Alana betraying her, Eve betraying her? Jack's death? But the icing on the cake that makes her snap is Kara betraying her? NO! What a disservice to Lena as a character! It would also cancel out the conversations she had with Sam when she was telling her she knew she was a good person no matter what and all the conversations she’s recently had with Brainy about having emotions. 

Plus to make Lena, who has fought the Luthors at every turn to suddenly snap and say ‘f**k it im going to complete Lex’s life work’ is insanity. 

Ultimately, the social lesson of the day here is if your family is s**t then you are s**t. No kids dont bother trying to be good people, you are lost causes. We dont care that you became a paramedic, or a fire fighter, or a soldier, or a surgeon or anything. You ARE crap and you will always be crap! The lesson is ‘never try’. Everyone else on this show has had trauma and betrayal in their lives but they still get to be heroes? Jonn? Alex? Kara? Winn? All had some trauma or family issues but nope they arent allowed to be bad guys. If having a bad family makes you bad then Alex should be because of her dad, Winn should be because of his dad and Kara absolutely should be because of her parents and her aunt and uncle.

The only thing that would make sense after the reveal is Lena having nothing at all to do with Kara, probably selling Cat Co and cutting pretty much every one of the Superfriends from her life. Where would they go from there with her? Well Lena has no reason to turn her attentions to hurting them or the people of National City. She doesn't stop being who she is due to betrayal. So maybe Lena finds a way to be a hero on her own refusing to help Supergirl anymore. I still 100% believe though that if Kara was hurt Lena would come and help no matter what, because that has always been who she is and her good nature and sanity has NEVER been dependent on Kara. Kara is not the centre of everyone universe.  

[doublethetheories]

Show vs. Science: Exploding Hands?

Hey everyone, welcome to the (long awaited) Bakugou Science Bust!! In this post it’s less about theories and more about finding the scientific inconsistencies in Bakugou’s quirk and finding solutions in the form of mini-theories. The formatting is going along the top questions I had and the results I got. Also warning this ended up being ~1900 words long (before editing) so... yea. 

The conclusion is basically a compare and contrast of the Canon vs. Scientific Bakugou and what differences we end up with. Feel free to reblog with your own theories or reaction to this, since I really enjoy seeing your feedback.

Before getting into the science of it, let’s just recap what we know about Bakugou Katsuki. As explained in season 1, episode 7, his ‘exploding hands’ quirk stems from him sweating nitroglycerin and (somehow) being able to channel that into his explosions. Right off the bat, we already know the science will not allow him to use his quirk the way he does in the show where he uses mere ‘concentration’(?) to set off his explosions. So let’s get into the specifics of his limitations.

Could he actually control the explosions?

Seems like a pretty easy place to start right? It’s a valid question; just because he has nitroglycerin in his system doesn’t mean he can actually control when or if he explodes. (Which is a bit worrying.)

The answer to this one already gives us a few inconsistencies between canon and science compliant versions of this character. Yes, he can control the explosions. If Bakugou is able to sweat nitroglycerin, he would almost always have a thin layer of explosive liquid covering his body. (It can also be assumed that, with this as his power and with puberty having already hit, he sweats a lot.) 

From there, the nitroglycerin in its liquid form can be exploded in one of two ways; heat or shock/impact. And since Bakugou obviously isn’t going to rely on a lighter or Todoroki to help him out every time he needs to use his power, it can be deduced that he’s using impact to create those explosions. Which leads us into our next section,

How would he control his power?

Going with ‘impact’ as the match to the gasoline raises two problems for Bakugou, though. One, he canonically has way more control over his power than scientifically possible, and Two, this boy is a very short-tempered one. Adding his easy-to-anger personality to this (very literally) explosive quirk would be a huge safety issue to both him and everyone around him. Having control over the blasts is possible, but it’d take effort.

So, first off, he would have to fix his anger issues and learn to not hit or slam his hands on the nearest item when something goes wrong. Along with this, he would have to avoid getting in the middle of fights as well (unless he means to use his quirk in it). He might be the most peaceful Bakugou possible, but that won’t stop an explosion from getting slapped.

He’d also need to wear thin but tight long sleeves and pants in order to absorb and dilute the nitroglycerin, making it less likely to explode on unavoidable impacts. 

Now, to address the few options he has that provide at least some for of control over the explosions. 

Initially, snapping seemed like the obvious solution. Not to say that it isn’t an option, since it would work to activate the nitroglycerin in his hand, and if he was snapping while flicking his wrist for more control, then it’d be a totally viable option. The problem comes up when looking for actual damage to be done to the opponent. Snapping his fingers close to them would be enough to stun an enemy, but the power of the explosions he could potentially make measures around the strength of the first two firecrackers from this video.

The next step I took in researching this was finding a directional way for him to clap, in order to exhibit some stronger results than the snap. (Though heads up, even at maximum power, he would not be able to naturally make the huge explosions he does in the show. The gauntlets he has though might be able to help him do that.)

There were many ways for him to, essentially, clap in order to get his blast in the intended direction, but almost all of them require at least a paragraph of explanation in order to get the idea across sans imagery. There is one that came to me almost immediately; it’s from a theater game called Zip Zap Zop. This video demonstrates the clap pretty well. 

With the impact of his fingers on his palm, the majority of the nitroglycerin would be on the palm, therefore igniting it and allowing it to go in a specific direction as he slides his exploding hand forward. 

Sweating Nitroglycerin???

So this part of the research was a lot harder than literally any of the rest of it because in every diagram I found, the sweat glands weren’t connected to anything. Literally no website I went to explained where specifically the sweat glands got their ingredients. This resulted in me taking an alternate route. 

Sweat is the body’s way of disposing of waste and maintaining a steady temperature (woop woop homeostasis), and it consists mostly of water and salt. Sweat glands are also found all throughout the body, hence Bakugou needing to dilute all the sweat with fabric before the excess sweat becomes a real problem. 

Since the “research” was a lot of roughly-averaged math based on conflicting information, the answer is tentative, but generally, yes, it is possible for him to sweat nitroglycerin. The natural implication of it into his body is a separate thing, but if you replace all the water in his body with a 2 parts water 1 part nitroglycerin mixture, his body should hold up along with the nitroglycerin. Surprisingly, it holds it’s chemical make-up holds its own pretty well in the face of water.

Bonus science fact that came out of this section: if the 2/1 water/nitroglycerin mixture was what was flowing through his veins, along with his sweat, his pee and spit would also be explosive. So would the water from his showers or baths since the nitroglycerin would be mixed into it. 

Would he be deaf?

Just going to preface this by saying I am obsessed with Deaf!Bakugou headcanons, oneshots, fics, and art because A, I love deaf representation so much, and B, it’s freaking accurate the show is lying to us he would 100% be deaf and here is why-

According to the National Institute of Deafness and Other Communication Disorders, hearing loss due to exposure to sounds can begin at 85 decibels or higher. To put this in perspective, the NIDCD says that heavy traffic averages at 85 decibels and firearms average around 150 decibels. 150 decibels is also the estimated bursting point for eardrums.

It’s difficult to estimate how powerful his explosions are, but I’m going to use an ‘average pistol’ for this research. I am doing this because firearms use mini explosions in order to fire the bullet, and an average pistol is just an average place to start. A .22 LR pistol falls around 152 decibels. 

Next, instead of going through all the calculations to see how large this explosion is in comparison to his would-be hand explosions, I decided to convert the mass of the bullet to liters (which is what I have his sweat measured in) and see how the two numbers compare. The bigger the number, the more explosive matter there is and the larger the explosion. 

Bakugou sweats roughly .21 liters per hour, based on research on how much people sweat averagely during exercise and having him be on the upper end since he’d be working out hard in order to use his quirk and have actual impact. When speaking of a .22 caliber bullet, the measurements fall around 3.1 grams. Converting that, we get .0031 liters. This number is obviously too small to compare with the caliber of explosions Bakugou is letting off. In fact, bakugou’s explosions are more than 70 times that. 

The (insane) difference between the two number shows us that Bakugou’s explosions will produce a lot more sound than that of a simple pistol. Instead of being just deaf, his eardrums would be nonexistent. HIs explosions’ sound might not be to the same ratio as the intensity but still.. hopefully he looses his hearing gradually over time as his explosions get more powerful, because otherwise, that’d be extremely painful.

(Please note that this section was written before I found these blueprints showing his headpiece as having earplugs, though he would still have significant hearing loss from the explosions he does even when he’s not wearing those.)

Could his skin take the constant damage?

The explanation for this section is less scientific and more of a theoretical hypothesis. There is also a second theory I have that helps defend this question, but I’m probably going to make that its own post. (If I do I’ll come back and link it here.)

Anyways, I think he just used simple endurance training.

It might seem random but the chances that his skin just built up strength over the years of constant, slowly growing damage being done to them. We already know his power grows as he does, and we know that he did use it as a child, so it just got used to it. Sort of like calluses from monkey bars. 

Going off of that assumption, it’s reasonable to think that at first, with his small pops, his hands’ skin was hurt but quickly grew back thicker and stronger. Because that’s how the body works when it’s hurt. When you burn your skin, it grows back with a different texture because it has been burned and it trying to prevent that damage from happening again. So if he’s been slowly building up his skins’ resistance to the explosions, he should be generally alright at this point.

Please remember this is just a theory written without much knowledge f burning skin and not a recommendation. Do not try this at home. :)

Conclusion

Scientific Bakugou:

Whenever he needs to use his quirk, he either claps, snaps, or hits the object he’s aiming for.

In order to avoid accidental explosions, he avoids sharp, impactful movements (smacking, hitting, or slamming things.)

He normally wears thin, lightweight long sleeves along with generally snug pants in order to absorb the excess sweat on his body for his safety and others.

When he sweats, he’s sweating a mixture of nitroglycerin and water. 

His spit and pee are also explosive. 

His hearing is gone completely once he hits highschool, as his explosions reach well over 150 decibels on a regular basis.

The skin on his hands has (possibly) built up burn-calluses from the explosions over the years, growing in strength as the explosions do. It still hurts but the nerve damage is enough to prevent it from being too painful.

Canon Bakugou:*

Whenever he needs to use his quirk, he somehow charges the nitroglycerin in his hand via concentration. ?

In order to avoid accidental explosions, he tries to keep control over his nerves, since that seems to be what causes him to loose control and accidentally release some pops.

He normally wears loose fitting pants and a tank top because apparently he does not fear science.

When he sweats, he's sweating nitroglycerin.

His spit and pee might be explosive but are probably not.

His hearing is just fine with barely any noticeable damage at all, despite the decibels he is constantly being exposed to.

The skin on his hands is normal and undamaged. (Bonus science inconsistency is that he wears gloves in his hero costume, which would mute his power completely. If he even managed to make an explosion in those things, they seem to be explosion resistant, so it'd do more damage to him than anything/one else.)

*I think it should be noted that canon Bakugou's power seems to be tied to his emotions, which I only noticed as I was writing this.

Outro

Despite how long it took, I really had a lot of fun with this project. I’m tempted to make this into a series, possibly doing Creati / Yao-Momo next. I also have a few things I mentioned in the post above that might be part two, three, four, etc.s to this post, but going in the direction of further exploring Bakugou’s abilities. Still need help on deciding which part two option to focus on first though. 

Possible part two’s include: 

another post like this but shorter and about his gauntlets (and hero costume in general, this would probably go more in depth on what he wears in general as well)

a post like this that follows up on my rising question of ‘could he actually control the explosions with neither of the triggers of nitroglycerin’ and going into what other explosive he’d have to use in order to have that chemical interact with the ones flowing through his system (i.e. hormones and nerves-)

a follow up on the fact that I didn’t actually complete the research on his hands being able to / not able to withstand all the explosions over the years

a post dedicated to my mini-theory about bnha having one consistent mutation over everyone who has a quirk

Also the art in the deaf!bakugou section doesn’t have a signature on it and when I reverse image searched it the only account I could find that possibly made it was @maelstrom-prince. So much freaking respect to whoever made it though, I freaking love blueprints for fictional things. 

[dukeofriven]

In America, There Are 2.5 Child Homicides With A Gun Every Day

A follow-up to Guns or Children: The Only Choice Left, America. [Note: this post originally rebutted notes in this thread where, having said some admittedly inflammatory and aggressively infantilizing things towards gun owners (which, when not put on edge by mailboxes full of hate mail I probably would not have been so quick to deploy so cavalierly. I have known and loved gun owners in my life - rest in peace, Uncle Steve, you are missed) I said the following:

"No other hobby in the world has to justify weekly child murders.”

The rebuttal was:

Except for automobiles, swimming, and owning a staircase.

If you take any of these casualty rates and put them over the course of a year, you have multiple deaths a day to each, which is far more often than “weekly.” If you have to justify owning a gun, also justify owning a car, a backyard pool, and  a two-story house.

That is alternatively misleading and outright false. The following demonstrates why. The short version is, however: when discussing American fatality statistics don’t cite advertisements for personal injury lawyers who quote twenty year old BBC articles about England and who don’t contextualize CDC data with your talking points. As an addendum to the original article, I now have extensive CDC data to draw on that is more comprehensive than the FBI’s crime stats I used in the original.) _________________ So you said “Except automobiles, swimming, and owning a staircase [have higher week death rates]” but I actually think its more effective to talk daily mortality rates - taken as a ‘deaths over time’ figure. The numbers I was using with some of those above posts (you’re missing the whole thread, so this gets a little confusing depending on whether I was talking about my article or just general conversation) were taken from the Washington Post - expressed as a number taken from 19 years of child gun deaths of 26000+ so that about 3.5 children a day are killed by guns in the United States, 24.5 a week. The CDC, however, refines that number over an 18 year period (excluding 2018 and 2019) to some 27,814 children killed by firearms between 1999 and 2017 (40,676 if you count 18 year olds) - a rate of some 4.5 children killed by guns a day, some 24.9 a week. [If you count 18-year-olds in that number (old enough to vote, not old enough to but alcohol in many states) the death toll rises to 40,676 children between 1999-2017 - a rate of some 6.2 children killed by guns a day, some 43.4 a week.] So 4.5 children killed a day by guns. So, in that same period, 63,941 children were killed by cars, 18,292 children drowned, and 124 children fell down stairs and died (see ‘W10 (Fall on and from stairs and steps))

So, for those keeping track - 4.5 kids shot a day, 9.7 kids killed in a car a day, 2.9 kids drowned a day, and 0.02 kids falling down stairs every day. week   I wasn’t talking about general death rates, I was talking about murder rates. Of note, 4,890 kids died in a car in 1999 but only 2,266 died in 2017 - car safety is improving. 2,542 kids died by a gun in 1999, 2,583 died in 2017. To briefly talk about general death rates,  though, in America 741,584 died by car between 1999 and 2017, 79,927 people drowned, and 36,247 people fell down the stairs and died (see ‘W10 (Fall on and from stairs and steps)). 612,310 people were killed by a gun. 40,965 people died in car in 1999, 38,659 died in 2017. 28,874 were killed by a gun in 1999, 39,773 in 2017. The number of cars deaths has lowered overall since 1999, the gun deaths continue to rise. And that dropping death rate versus non-dropping death rate is why in 2017 guns did kill more people than automobiles and who fell in all cases and who drowned.

But I wasn’t really talking about general dying - it is indeed absurd to talk about gun statistics and focus on accidents as some kind of moral failing on the part of gun owners - perfectly responsible guns owners die of gun accidents in countries with strong gun laws, just as responsible car owners die of car accidents all the time. Just because cars are dangerous doesn’t mean they aren’t useful - and in countries with good gun control and responsible gun owners the same is true for guns. So let’s focus on what I was actually focussing on: homicides in the United States. In the context of the article I was only discussing the United’s States’ record-high rates of gun homicides compared to other similar countries. Just gun homicides: not gun suicides, gun accidents, or deaths-by-cop - only homicides (because we were discussing American gun ownership in terms of irresponsible gun owners versus responsible gun owners and how many gun owners need to be irresponsible before responsible gun owners are culpable through inaction) The year I focussed on was 2017 because it had that good FBI crime statistics which I can now supplement with CDC statistics. So: homicide. Responsible [x item] owners acting not merely rashly or unwisely but irresponsibly - using that which had been entrusted to them to kill. Licensed car owners murdering people with cars. Pool owners using their pools to drown people like an IRL game of the Sims. Gun owners who shoot people.

What do those numbers look like? (For point of reference in 2017 the USA had a population of 325,719,178.)

The average number of people murdered with a staircase the FBI does not seem to track - and in a stat book that gets pretty granular, too. The CDC does have W10 (Fall on and from stairs and steps) - but that’s accidental death, not homicide. All we have to work with is ICD-10-CM Code Y01 (Assault by pushing from high place) - in other words, pushing people off or down things - stairs, buildings, cranes, highway overpasses etc. That number is 6.

Given that of the 37,581 non-Y01 fall deaths in 2017 some 15% (2,493) involved stairs (man, someone really should have warned people about stairs), we’ll apply the same percentage to the 6 fall deaths and say that 0.9 people were pushed down the stairs in 2017 - heck, let’s be generous to stair murder and round that up to a full 1. So that’s 0.003 people maliciously thrown down stairs every day by murderous, irresponsible stair owners in 2017′s America - 1 death that year.

35 people were murdered via drowning in 2017. That’s not, by the way, specifically people who were murdered via swimming but everyone who was murdered via drowning. In CCD language that’s X92 (Assault by drowning and submersion so that’s everything from being pushed down into a bucket of water to sleeping with the fishes. The FBI believes that only 8 people in total were murdered via drowning but the number at 35, which in the interest of fairness are the numbers I’ll use. That’s about 0.1 0.1 people maliciously drowned by murderous, irresponsible pool owners every day in 2017′s America - 35 people that year.

0.003 people maliciously thrown down stairs every day by murderous, irresponsible stair owners in 2017′s America - 1 death that year. 0.1 people maliciously drowned by murderous, irresponsible pool owners every day in 2017′s America - 35 people that year.

Vehicular homicide. The FBI didn’t put 2017 vehicular homicides in its 2017 crime report, but the CDC did: Y03 (Assault by crashing of motor vehicle). 50 people were murdered by irresponsible car owners, for a rate of 0.14 people a day. 0.003 people maliciously thrown down stairs every day by murderous, irresponsible stair owners in 2017′s America - 1 death that year. 0.1 people maliciously drowned by murderous, irresponsible pool owners every day in 2017′s America - 35 people that year. 0.14 people maliciously killed with a car by murderous, irresponsible car owners every day in 2017′s America - 50 people that year. Gun homicide - specifically X93 (Assault by handgun discharge), X94 (Assault by rifle, shotgun and larger firearm discharge), and X95 (Assault by other and unspecified firearm discharge). That’s a murder stat of 14,542 people, for a homicide rate of 39.84 people a day. 0.003 people maliciously thrown down stairs every day by murderous, irresponsible stair owners in 2017′s America - 1 death that year. 0.1 people maliciously drowned by murderous, irresponsible pool owners every day in 2017′s America - 35 people that year. 0.14 people maliciously killed with a car by murderous, irresponsible car owners every day in 2017′s America - 50 people that year. 39.84 people maliciously killed with a gun by murderous, irresponsible gun owners every day in 2017′s America - 14,542 people that year. So putting away accidents, mistakes, bad luck, cock-ups, freak accidents, manufacturing errors, and whatever other misfortunes might occur - to just focus on murder for a moment, really helps makes thing clear. Because there is an argument to be made that since cars kill more people every year than guns do it would be silly to ban cars - oh. Oh, no, wait. No we proved that canard isn’t even true some years, didn’t we. In 2015 and 2017 guns killed more people than cars. Between 2013 and 2017 guns killed 805 more people than cars. The number of gun deaths over car deaths has been rising with every year. Here’s the break down with the data from here and here:

Man, since 2013 the “cars kill more people” argument has been either statistically insignificant or outright wrong. Fascinating, don’t you think? Where was I? Oh, yes, murder. Because that’s the true sign of moral value - accidents can happen anywhere, in responsible countries, and irresponsible countries alike. What matters is how people compare. So when you compare gun owners to car owners in 2017, for example, we know that gun owners murdered about 39 people a day and car owners didn’t murder anyone on any given day. They didn’t manage to murder anyone in the course of a week. It took them at least 8 days to murder 1 person, in which time gun owners murdered about 312 people. Does that - that start to sink it at all, that maybe there’s a problem in America in regards to guns? Like just toss away all the big huge numbers involved all the random chances and misfortunes in the world, ignore the fact that gun have started to kill as many if not more people as cars a year - throw all that out and just compare gun owners to car owners who get all murderous, that in 18 years, in which car owners murdered - not hit by accident, not fell asleep while driving, not creating a fatality due to an engine exploding, not running a red light, but assault leading to fatality - car owners murdered 1,069 people ( Y03 (Assault by crashing of motor vehicle)) and gun owners murdered 227,717 people (X93 (Assault by handgun discharge), X94 (Assault by rifle, shotgun and larger firearm discharge), and X95 (Assault by other and unspecified firearm discharge)) Gun owners murdered people 213 times the rate of car owners. 21,201.87% more murderous.  In 18 years gun owners murdered 226,648 more people than car owners. Gun owners murder some 12,650 people every year while car owners only managed to murder a paltry 59. And children - since we can all agree, I hope, that murdering children is a problem? In gun owners - who I am constantly told are treated mostly unfairly, especially given car fatality rates - taken purely as a group of child murdered 16,326 children in 18 years with their guns. Car owners? 123. Car owners murder about 6 kids a year. Gun owners murder 2.5 kids a day. 17.5 kids a week - more than twice the yearly car homicide rate. Some 907 kids a year just... get murdered. By guns. In America. Every single year. In that 18 year period gun deaths account for a full 49% of some 33,095 child homicides between 1999 and 2017. The generalized X95 (Assault by other and unspecified firearm discharge) - child gun murder - is the eighth highest killer on the list of child deaths.

Look at that. The number of people in the gun fandom who chose to murder children make up an entire 1.7% off all child fatalities between 1999 and 2017. Wow. It’s higher, actually, when we take in X93 and X94 - it becomes a full 2%. The only other man-made cause on there that’s higher is the 1403 children killed in unspecified motor accidents. Everything else is infant diseases and miscellaneous. Number of kids killed by terrorism, by the way? 7. Since two years before 9/11 to the end of 2017 Gun owners murdered 2332 times the amount of children than terrorists did. Taken as a whole - with 2933 killed by terrorism between 1999 and 2017, gun owners murdered 224,778 more people than terrorists. Any American gun owner is statistically speaking 76 times deadlier to their fellow Americans in terms of consciously choosing to murder them than any terrorist on American soil. Heck, in 2001 alone American Gun Owners killed 11,348 people - 8426 more people than Osama Bin Laden’s lackeys. American gun owners murders almost four times the amount of people in 2001 than the 9/11 attackers murdered. Good on you, you gun-loving American patriots. You show your foreign enemies how killing Americans is done. So above, in some of my posts, I employed rude language towards gun fans. I was insulting, even dismissive. I was contemptuous of them and the hobby they love so much. I even blocked people without giving them a chance to share their piece - a real dick move, I confess. I have been accused of not being fair to Americans who own guns - the American gun fandom, if you will. The fandom that murders 2.5 children a day, while car fans don’t have to worry about a car owner murdering more than one child every two months. Yeah - I don’t really respect members of the gun fandom with those kind of stats. Because it isn’t that guns aren’t cool - guns are fucking rad. Guns make fantastic movies - did you see, god, The Fate of the Furious? Where Jason Statham guns his way through a plane to rescue Vin Diesel’s baby? One of the greatest scenes in cinema. In Firefly pilot when Mal storms up the ramp and just shoots the bad guy before he’s a sentence in his monologue? God that’s fucking cool. Oh man - Cowboy Bebop, where Spike shoots his way through the Yakuza in the finale? Or Ghost in the Shell when the team blasts there way through the Geisha Robots? Or every glorious ridiculous gun blade scene in Advent Children? Or the first time you synced with a sniper class in a video game and in that session of play you became an angel of death - and nobody, fucking nobody - was safe from your blessing of a headshot? Guns are so fucking cool. But it doesn’t matter that they’re cool - that doesn’t mean anyone has any right or need to own one. Yeah, it’s your hobby. I have a lot of hobbies. My fellow hobbyists don’t use the tools of their hobby to murder people to the tune of 2 and a half children a day, every day, for twenty years. I swim several times a week. I go to a pool in America and I am 243 times more likely to be murdered with a gun than I am from being drowned in the pool by one of my fellow pool attendees sick of my statistics shit. Hell every American - right now, this second - is 12.5% more likely to die by being murdered with a gun by a willfully murderer than they are to drown under any scenario. These conditions are not true in other third world countries. There’s a huge amount of guns in Switzerland - they think guns are fucking rad, they love guns. 50 people were murdered there last year. 50 in total from all causes. Yeah they’re smaller than America - about 39 times smaller. But if we spin-up that murder rate 39 times that’s 1950 murders a year total. You murder more people with guns every two months. The Swiss? The Swiss are responsible gun owners - Americans are not. Because if Americans were, then the last 20 years wouldn’t have seen the steady climb of gun deaths year after year after year until some days your hobby kills more people than everyone who dies in a car crash - and cars at least provide value to the world. You can drive someone to the hospital, go see grandma, take the kids on a picnic, help your friends move, take groceries home - the list of useful shit a car can do is long and sobering. A gun? Well you can clean it. You can display it. And you can shoot it. Hey asshole who doesn’t understand my rural ways you can hunt with a gun - I grew up in the country, big man, members of my family are hunters, and yes - you can hunt with guns. But Americans don’t. Less that four percent of Americans hunted in 2016. 11 million going hunting in a land of 323.4 million people. Yeah, you’re not hunting. As a tool, therefore - as a thing you use, as a thing that provides utility? - you use the gun for nothing. You just shoot it. For fun. At targets. And at people. Especially children. It’s a little adrenaline rush to make your day more exciting, or its something that kills people. You can get adrenaline rushes elsewhere, gun fans - as it stands I think any hobby that produces 2.5 child murders a day isn’t one that’s earning the right to be held in high regard. Would it suck, having to give up your guns - after all the time and money and love and care an interest you have invested over the years? it doesn’t matter when contrasted with the 39 children murdered last week, and the week before that, and the week before than, and on and on and on going back - at this point - decades. You can like guns, you can love guns, you can thing guns are fucking rad - but Americans can’t own them. responsibly, I mean, as a group. Because while most gun owners don’t murder children every day, the fact that at least two children do get murdered every day using their favourite hobby, and that the ownership focus of their favourite hobby is used to murder over 12000 people a year generally... well, you know... what is there to say at this point? If I tell you that 2 children will get murdered today because of how your country handles your hobby, and you response is to say “but I’m not murdering anyone” I don’t have a response to that other than stunned silence. Do you not have any sense of collective responsibility? As a group? One violent gun owner didn’t make the rest of you look bad by killing a bunch of people - thirty-odd gun owners murder people every single day. Too many gun owners are irresponsible. Too many gun owners murder people every day. Not most. Not a majority. Not even a plurality. I pointed out in my original article that only works out to about 0.009% of all gun owners. But guess what? Turns out  that’s way too many. God forbid that number increase increase. If even half of one percent of American gun owners were to grow irresponsible and start murdering, that’s over 50000 murdered kids a year.

On and on and on these numbers just pile up and press down and I don’t know what else I can give you to try and get some kind of response from your conscience. I really don’t. Americans are irresponsible gun owners. American gun owners kills kids at extraordinary rates. American gun owners murdered Americans more than any terrorist ever has. Anyways, to recap and refute your point: If you take the casualty rates of automobiles, swimming, and owning a staircase, and you judge them based on daily death rates, guns kill far and away more people every day than either swimming or falling down stairs. Guns killed more people between 1999 and 2017 than drowning and falling down stairs combined. Since 2013 guns have killed as many and sometimes more people per day than anyone crashing their car - and that number continues to rise. Taken purely from the standpoint of statistical homicides - of owners (and presumed fans) of guns, automobiles, swimming pools, and staircases using their owned items to commit murder - on any given day gun owners are likely to murder about 39 people with a gun. On any given day car owners, swimming pool owners, and stair owners will murder 0 people with cars, swimming pools, or stairs. Q.E.D.

[thecomicsnexus]

UNCANNY X-MEN #145-147 MAY - JULY 1981 BY CHRIS CLAREMONT, DAVE COCKRUM, JOE RUBINSTEIN AND GLYNIS WEIN

SYNOPSIS (FROM MARVEL DATABASE)

Stevie Hunter and Ororo went to see Britain's Royal Ballet. While watching the ballet, Miss Locke entered their box and touched them with a fatal contact poison, a poison she had the antidote to. The poison was merely to buy their undivided attention as Miss Locke related how and why Doom captured Arcade, that she would like the X-Men to rescue Arcade, and that many of the X-Men's family and friends had been captured to ensure that they would. Ororo fell unconscious, and when she awoke Stevie and Miss Locke were gone. She checked on Amanda Sefton and the Greys, but they were all missing. She returned to the mansion.

The X-Men contacted Beast to get information about Dr. Doom from the Avengers. Wolverine argued that they couldn't submit to blackmail, they had to nail Murderworld so hard no one would attack their loved ones and friends again. Ororo agreed, and had a plan. Professor X telepathically contacted former X-Men Havok, Polaris, Iceman, and Banshee to provide extra manpower for the two-pronged assault. Team 1 (Storm, Angel, Colossus, Wolverine, Nightcrawler) would rescue Arcade from Dr. Doom, buying time for Havok, Polaris, Iceman, and Banshee to rescue their friends from Murderworld.

Professor X was unable to contact Cyclops. That may have been because he was just waking up on an unknown Caribbean beach where he and Lee Forrester may have been the only inhabitants. Lee had been tossed overboard by a freak storm, and Scott dove in after her, and now they were stranded.

Meanwhile at Doom's Castle, the Adirondacks, Storm made a dramatic entrance and demanded to speak with Dr. Doom. Dr. Doom emerged and consented to discussing Storm's demand (that he release Arcade) over dinner. Meanwhile the other X-Men in her team infiltrated the castle to rescue Arcade. Unfortunately for them, they found Arcade's cell empty, and were then set upon by men in battle-suits. A fierce battle ensued with the X-Men victorious. In the dining room, Doom was monitoring the battle while engaging Storm in conversation. When it became apparent the battle-suits had lost, Doom presented another of his guests, Arcade. Realizing it was a trap, Storm attacked Doom, but he withstood the assault and hit Storm with a weapon that turned her into a statue. The other X-Men arrived seconds too late, only to be laid low by energy weapons. Colossus emerged unscathed, but Dr. Doom paralyzed him with a neural disruptor and emerged victorious.

Dr. Doom captured the X-Men and devised cunning traps for each of them. Nightcrawler was in a featureless box, incapable of knowing where he was or where he could safely teleport to. Colossus was on an apparent mountain peak, with a whirlpool slowly climbing upwards. Wolverine was in a checkerboard amorphous anti-gravity room that was driving his senses crazy and every time he hit a wall, it accelerated him and Angel was in a giant birdcage where the perch was safe, but any attempt to leave it lead to many low-intensity lasers turning the air into a maze of crisscrossing beams. Storm was trapped in organic chrome - the epitome of confinement - a state which triggered her claustrophobia and caused her to unconsciously generate a fierce Storm across the whole eastern seaboard.

That storm caused a near miss lightning bolt to jolt Cyclops' eye-bandage off, revealing his optic blast to Lee Forrester. The bandage was re-applied, but Scott would have some explaining to do.

The reserve X-Men called in to follow the second half of Storm's plan to fly over the derelict amusement park where the X-Men were released last time they tangled with Murderworld. Polaris used her magnetic powers to trace the underground structures back to Murderworld. Havok 'dug' a tunnel and Polaris short-circuited the electronics to prevent detection, or so she thought. But then a holographic Miss Locke welcomed them, and the games began. Trap doors separated our heroes.

Havok found himself on a roller coaster with spacecraft shooting at him. Some were holograms, but some were dangerously real. He blasted some, but then things looked to get worse as he was headed into a large mothership's mouth. He jumped out at the last second, landing on the outside of the mother-ship. Predictably, his roller coaster car exploded.

Iceman found himself on an ice rink with some enraged hockey players. An ice shield kept them at bay, but the excess weight tumbled the robot players through the ice and into acid. More players skated into the rink, and heating vents turned on.

Banshee found himself in an old-west shoot-out. Deprived of his powers, he had to rely on his Interpol training. He out shot the other robot, but its padres wanted in on the action. Sean used a 'micro-bomb' to destroy them, blowing a hole through the wall where he saw Moira being tied to train tracks.

Polaris found herself on a merry-go-round. She got distracted by what looked like Illyana Rasputin running by her, only to be attacked by the merry-go-round's horses. She destroyed them with her power and went after the girl, except it wasn't Illyana at all, but a robot with a gun. Of course, robots nor guns were no threat to a mistress of magnetism, but then the ride started spinning incredibly quickly, launching itself into the air and detonating, but Polaris managed to protect herself. However, an inhibitor field caused her to fall.

Polaris fell into Iceman's chamber, who caught her. However, the weight of his ice-slide collapsed the rink surface below, meaning he needed to escape now or be eaten by acid. He super-cooled the wall in front of him, making it brittle enough to smash through.

Havok got into the utility tunnels and shorted out a major box. Chambers went to investigate and was taken out by Havok.

Banshee defeated the villain tying her, but she was tied with wire so untying her quickly was impossible. However, along the track came Amanda Sefton and Candy Southern tied up in a roller coaster car, so blowing up the track would kill them. Banshee resigned himself to having to blow up the track when Polaris and Iceman arrived, preventing anyone's death. Suddenly Moira, Amanda, and Candy exploded. They were all robot simulacrums. Our heroes were saved by Polaris's quick magnetic shield.

Miss Locke watched all of this with glee until Havok showed up and trashed her firearm. The control center disabled, the X-Men quickly freed the hostages and made it back out to the hover-jet to discover a major storm outside.

Doom had also noticed the Storm, and it worried him. Arcade, however, was unconcerned and he noticed that Nightcrawler just disappeared from his cell.

Nightcrawler finds himself high in the air above Doom's castle, having teleported blind from a featureless room (last issue). Falling unconscious briefly, Nightcrawler awakes to find himself falling frighteningly fast. He skydives for an updraft and then teleports into the lake near Doom's castle - emerging alive but shivering. He reflects on the circumstances that brought him to this situation (last two issues).

Doom has not failed to notice Nightcrawler's escape, and he orders his men to recapture the X-Man. Doom is worried about the growing storm centered on his castle, although Arcade is unfazed. Doom's unease is echoed by NORAD.

Nightcrawler makes his re-entrance to the castle, disabling two guards. Elsewhere, Colossus has discovered that the lasers below are attuned to size and that chunks of Colossus' size are zapped, those of Peter Rasputin's size are left untouched. Taking a deep breath, he swims downwards, past the cannons, turning into Colossus only when he's safely past. He punches a hole in the wall.

In his giant birdcage Angel has figured out that the lasers which fire when he leaves the perch are actually patterned to create a maze. He flies this maze at high speed and escapes just as his cell detonates behind him - only to get a mouthful of water as Colossus's flood washes over him.

Wolverine, trapped in an anti-gravity chamber which is royally messing with his senses, tries to embrace the beast without letting it control him. He hacks into anything he hits, and eventually, the anti-gravity gives out, dropping him onto the floor. Wolvie carves his way out of the cell and notices the loud thunder shaking the very castle. Ororo must be in trouble, so he rushes up the stairs to confront Doom! Doom tells 'Ororo' (a robot) to deal with him, and Wolvie trashes the robot. Doom blasts Wolverine, but Nightcrawler's timely arrival is enough for the X-Men to turn the tables. Wolverine offers a deal - Doom's life for Storm's. Doom hands them a device that will restore Storm... and it does...

Storm has become one with the planet, with all its myriad of elemental forces at her command, and though Doom uses the other X-Men's distraction to escape Wolverine's clutches, Storm easily overpowers him. Of course, Storm's not-so-tender ministrations aren't reserved solely for Doom, as Colossus finds out when he tries to reason with her. The castle is being torn apart by the storm outside, and Dr. Doom and the X-Men may well be torn apart by the Storm inside. Finally, Colossus says something that triggers Storm's psyche to re-assert itself, and she brings the storm back under control, although it costs her much.

Doom is strangely pleased that Ororo survives the ordeal. Storm again asks for Arcade's freedom, which Doom grants for an apology (rather grudgingly given) from Arcade. Doom also apologizes to Storm, and asks to begin anew (with Storm in particular - yes Doom is hitting on Storm), and Storm consents - a clean slate from that point.

In the Caribbean, Lee and Scott awaken to discover a strange building has emerged from the ocean overnight on the island they're stranded on!

REVIEW

John Byrne’s departure is really felt in this story. Cockrum art feels too aged. And full of inconsistencies. I am not sure if it was Claremont that came up with that dialogue about Doom replacing Wolverine’s costume, but it feels like a continuity error. Perhaps the craziest thing is Storm’s change of costume while she was a statue. Where does it come from?

The villains in this story are forgettable. And yes, I include fake Dr. Doom. Who wasn’t supposed to be a doombot, but since Byrne was writing Doctor Doom on Fantastic Four, and didn’t like the way the character was treated by Claremont, he decided to explain as Doom being replaced by a Doombot. You can read more about it here.

I give this story a score of 5

[supersleepygoat]

The Family Business: Part Three

Pairing: Sam x Reader x Dean (No Wincest)

Summary: The Winchester brothers run a large criminal organization. Your father’s gambling problem prevents him from paying what he owes to the Winchesters. He offers the brothers you as compensation. Now, Sam and Dean have to figure out what to do with you.

Word Count: 6,364

Warning: Angst. Hopelessness. Violence. Blood. TW: Miscarriage.

A/N: Please heed the warnings. if this is triggering please do not read. 

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

You are standing on the mattress looking down at the boys who are asleep beneath you. They look so peaceful. They are getting some much-needed rest. They spend most of their day dealing with business and being the hardened criminals the underworld expects them to be. Meanwhile, they spend most of their nights keeping you company. They enjoy the freedom of letting go. When they are with you, no one makes demands on them and no one tells them no. Your bedroom is their sanctuary. So, there isn’t much time for sleeping.

You usually love seeing them in this peaceful state. Under normal circumstances you would let them sleep. You would go down stairs and start making them breakfast or at least some coffee. But, today isn’t like any other day.

You start jumping on the bed. You wake up your sleeping mobsters with as much noise and jostling as you can muster. “Wake up!” you encourage Sam and Dean with a high-pitched squeal.

Dean is the first to gain his bearings. He soon recognizes that there is no threat. But he still isn’t too pleased when he realizes you are waking him up for no apparent reason. He grips your ankle and yanks you off your feet. You fall back onto the mattress and finally stop your incessant jumping. “What the hell are you doing? That is no way to wake up two very grumpy and heavily armed men!” Dean informs you with great annoyance.

“You’re not armed,” you look up at him with confusion. They know better than to bring weapons into your room. They know guns scare you and so they promised to check their firearms at the door.

Dean rolls his eyes and lifts his pillow to show you that he keeps a switch blade underneath it.

“What the hell? How long has that been there?” You ask as you sit up. You have been here for four months, how have you never noticed he keeps a knife in your bed? “Get rid of it!” You demand. It’s not the first time he’s brought a knife into the bedroom but it is the first time he’s concealed one.

“No way. Some people sleep with a security blanket to keep them safe. I prefer something a little more practical,” Dean informs you as he switches the blade open. “I got to do what I got to do to keep my pet safe,” Dean purrs as he crawls toward you with the knife between his teeth.

“Get that thing away from me!” You squeal with half-hearted resistance. You can’t help a fit of giggles that tells Dean how insincere your protests actually are.

“Are you two done? Some of us have a meeting in…” Sam looks at his watch and groans, “three hours. And, I would appreciate one more hour of sleep before you start begging for attention. Didn’t you get enough last night?” Sam asks as he narrows his eyes at you.

You know he is warning you to settle down. But, that’s not going to happen. Not today. You give him a wicked smirk and push Dean off of you. You scramble back onto your feet and resume jumping.

“That’s it,” Sam lunges forward and pulls on your hips so you crash onto your knees. “You asked for it!” All sleep is gone from his voice and replaced with unadulterated arousal. He pulls you closer to him so you are bent over his knee. You bare ass sticks up to him and he raises his palm.

“You’re in for it now, Pet,” Dean assures you as he settles into a seated position to watch the show.

You look back up at Sam over your shoulder. His hand is still raised and ready to crack. But he’s waiting for you to beg for forgiveness. He loves hearing you ask for mercy. Then, he loves not giving it to you.

“You wouldn’t spank a pregnant woman, would you Sam?” You ask as you bat your eyelashes with exaggerated innocence.

His eyes go wide for a moment before they dart over to gage Dean’s reaction. He isn’t sure he heard you correctly. Dean sports the exact same dumbfounded look on his face. So, Sam knows he heard it to.

Sam pulls you off his lap so you are sitting between the two brothers. “What did you just say?”

“I said I’m preg-” but you don’t have time to finish your statement before Dean attacks you. He rolls you onto your back and claims your mouth in a searing kiss. You smile against his lips and wrap your arms around his neck. This was the exact reaction you were hoping for. You were hoping they would be as excited as you are.

Dean pulls away when he remembers Sam is probably itching to congratulate you too. You both sit up and look at Sam. Your wide smile fades when you see he has gotten out of bed and started dressing himself.

“Sam?” You ask with hesitation. Your voice catches his attention. There is an unfamiliar detachment behind his eyes. You haven’t felt this kind of distance since your first night here. Your chest tightens with dread. You thought he wanted this. But, he leaves the room without a word.

Dean is as surprised by his brother’s actions as you are. “Wait here, kid.” Dean kisses your forehead and follows his brother out of the room.

You know you should stay put. Eavesdropping on the brothers has never ended well for you. But this isn’t a game. You have to know what’s wrong, what you did wrong.

You crawl out of the bed and throw on the robe they bought you last month. You peak your head around the door and can hear shouting from downstairs. You tiptoe closer to the railing to hear better.

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen? She’s not on the pill. We’ve never used condoms. And, we sure as hell don’t pull out. I’m surprised it took us this long! You said you wanted this!” Dean shouts at his brother.

“How are you fine with this? It is one thing to talk about it. It is one thing to use the idea of ‘breeding’ during sex as a fantasy. But, it is a whole other issue when you come face to face with it in reality! We can’t have a fucking kid!” Sam yells at his brother. Sam’s fear is coming out as venomous anger.

“Why the hell are you just realizing this now? If you didn’t want this, you shouldn’t have emptied yourself inside her every fucking night for the past four months! You can’t fuck her and refuse to deal with the consequences. She’s our responsibility!” Dean is frustrated with his brother’s immature reaction.

“No! She’s not,” Sam shouts. “She was never supposed to be an added responsibility in our lives. She was supposed to be a stress relief. Nothing more, nothing less. Now she is becoming nothing but a burden. She’s gotten comfortable here. She’s talking back more often. She even makes demands now. I’m starting to believe she thinks this is her home and we actually care for her.”

“We do!” Dean’s anger is boiling his blood. “I know the idea of a kid freaks you out. I’m freaking out too. But, you cannot look me in the eye and tell me you still only see her as your play thing. We weren’t supposed to care for her, but we do. There is no going back. Now more than ever.”

“No, she is a burden… now more than ever,” Sam refuses to admit he cares for you. 

At some point during their conversation, you crumbled onto the floor. You grip onto the banister to give yourself some much-needed balance. The brothers have never told you that they care for you. You just figured it was because they weren’t good with words or don’t like talking about their feelings. But they would show you in other ways, or at least that’s what your delusional mind forced you to believe. Maybe it was all in your head. The false belief that they actually care about you was a comforting lie you told yourself. You had to believe it so you could accept all the things they do to you. Under the pretense of love, you would feel less used.

You hear the front door slam shut and you flinch at the sound. A second later, Dean comes storming up the steps. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees you on the floor.

“I told you to stay in the room, Y/N. You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Dean whispers as he scoops you off the ground. He brings you back to bed but does not get in with you. With the way you are looking at him, he knows you are expecting him to say something, anything. But he can’t. His mind is a jumbled mess and he cannot pull out a single coherent thought. He leans forward and kisses your forehead. Then, he’s gone too.

You spend the rest of the day in bed. You don’t know if Dean left or if he’s still here but just avoiding you. Night is falling outside your window but neither brother comes for you. You wait up half the night but no one comes.

As expected, you wake up alone. It is the first time you’ve woken up alone in four months. There is always at least one brother next to you. But, now you have no one. Your stomach growls and you realize you forgot to eat yesterday.

“Shit,” you groan. You’ve never had to worry too much about taking proper care of yourself before. Before, if you forgot to eat or didn’t get all your food groups, it was always just you who bore the consequences. But now you are caring for two. You have someone else to worry about. This is your responsibility. You will not let yourself fail at this. You can’t. Your self-pity needs to take a backseat. There are more important things to handle.

You peak your head into the hall to make sure the coast is clear. You know you’re allowed to leave your room. But, you don’t have it in you to face either brother right now. You’re about to take a step forward when you hear Sam’s bedroom door open. You all but jump back into your room and stay out of sight. But to your surprise, Sam doesn’t come out alone. A beautiful blond woman comes out soon after him. She grabs his hand so he turns to look at her. She cups his cheek in her palm. She then pulls him forward so she can leave a kiss on his forehead.

That’s all you need to see. You close your door and hide in your room until you can guarantee they are gone.

Thick tears threaten to spill over but you wipe them away before they have a chance to fall. You can’t let yourself do this. In what universe did you expect exclusivity? They told you time and time again you are their pet. Why didn’t you believe them? You built up the delusion that this is a real relationship. In reality, they only keep you around because your willingness to please is convenient. You satisfy their needs when they don’t have time to find someone better. You’re useful to have around the house. You itch their scratch and polish their shoes.

Convenient, that is all you are. That is all you’ll ever be.  

They have every right to find other women. They don’t owe you anything.

You were only naive enough to believe that when they said they wanted to breed you, it meant something more. But it was only a game. You have been living in a bubble for the past four months. You misunderstood their kindness for affection. You misinterpreted the fact they hadn’t killed you yet, as proof they wanted you around. Are your standards for love really that low?

You don’t know who that woman is. All you know is that she was invited into Sam’s personal bedroom. That is something you have still never been privileged to. You let out a sad laugh. Why are you just now seeing the red flags?

Sam exits his room after he had a long talk with his mother. Mary follows close behind and tugs on his hand. He turns to face his mother as she cups his cheek in her palm. She then pulls him forward so she can leave a kiss on his forehead.

“This will all work out, I promise,” she assures him. Mary is legendary for her ruthless iron fist. She ran the family business alongside her husband for over three decades. She never shied away from getting her hands dirty. She is who Dean modeled his brutal work ethic after. But, what most people would never expect from her, is how warm she is toward her sons. She is a mamma bear that will protect her boys with ferocity, yet behind closed doors is as sweet as a doe.

“Thank you for talking me off the ledge. Thank you for understanding.” Sam gives his mother a sad smile. He is a little ashamed that despite all he has accomplished, he still needs to talk to his mother about girl troubles. If anyone saw into their private lives, the Winchester boys would lose all credibility as hardened criminals.

“Oh no,” Mary gives her son a humourless laugh. “Don’t think for a second you or your brother are off the hook. We don’t traffic in girls! I raised you better than that. I’m not happy how you met this girl. And, I’m sure as hell not happy you kept her from your father and me. But… you care for her. What happened, happened. We can only look forward. And from what you told me, the future is bright,” Mary beams at the thought of a grandchild. She never thought her boys would give her one. They were always too focused on the business. She never pushed the issue because a part of her knew it would all work out in the end. She just never imagined, the mother of her grandchild would be her sons’ willing prisoner.  

“I know. I see that now. I freaked myself out. It’s been hard enough keeping just her safe. A lot of people want to see Dean and I suffer. What are we supposed to do once we have her and a baby to protect? Our enemies will come after them. And I-”

“Slow down!” Mary can see her son starting to spiral with worry. It is the same worry that caused him to have such a dismissive response to your news. She doesn’t want him falling down that rabbit hole again. “You and Dean are not in this alone. In case you forgot, I raised two boys in this life. And, they turned out pretty damn good. Aside from their new habit of accepting girls as payment for a gambling debt,” Mary says under her breath.

“It’s not a habit! We did it one time!” Sam defends his and his brother’s decision.

Mary levels Sam with a glare. She’s never accepted her sons’ bullshit excuses and won’t start now. “Regardless, your father and I know what to do. We can help. There are things you can do that will send the message that your family is off limits. It’s not going to be pretty, but I know you and Dean can handle it. Now…” Mary puts on a hopeful smile, “Can I meet her?”

Sam smiles and shakes his head. “Not right now. Soon, I promise. But I think we need to talk to her first. We have to get this straightened out.”

“Fine,” Mary relents. “I’ll wait. You go talk to your girl and make things right. Then, get her to a doctor! We don’t even know how far along she is. We don’t even know if she knows how far along she is.” Mary smiles at her son. “This is a good thing, Sam. I could tell by the way you were talking about her, you want this. I know it is scary. But, you’re allowed to admit that you want this.”

Mary leaves without asking which brother is the father. She also doesn’t ask how this little arrangement works. She’s knows better than to ask questions she doesn’t want honest answers to. Her sons have always been close. She doesn’t need to know how close they have become.

You wait for what you think is more than enough time for Sam and his friend to be gone. You creep down to the kitchen and freeze when you see Dean there.

He was happy when you first told him. But, he hasn’t come to see you since then. You don’t know if his brother had changed his mind in the meantime.

“There you are!” Dean lets out a sigh of relief when he sees you. “You haven’t come out in a while. So, I was going to bring you something to eat,” Dean says as he holds up the tray he was planning on bringing you. On the tray is a plate with a colourful heap of fruits and vegetables. Also, at the corner of the tray is a little daisy he must have picked from your garden. “Don’t get mad about the flower. This one had already fallen off the stem… I didn’t pick anything,” Dean assures you. He knows you don’t like it when people pull living things out of the earth for no reason.

You are about to assure him that you appreciate his sweet gesture. But, your growling belly interrupts you and signifies how enticed you are by his plate of goodies.

He puts the tray down and hardens his stare when he hears your stomach. “When was the last time you ate?” Dean asks.

You shrug with shame. You don’t want him to know that you let your insecurities prevent you from taking care of yourself, and your new addition.

“Christ,” Dean reaches forward and drags you over to the kitchen table. He sits down on the nearest chair and pulls you into his lap. “Eat,” he demands like you are a stubborn child.

Dean doesn’t have to tell you twice. You dig into the assortment of healthy snacks Dean laid out for you. As you eat, Dean runs his hands through your hair and rubs your shoulders.

“I’m sorry I was gone yesterday. There is something I had to take care of. Trust me, I would have preferred to stay here with you.” He leans forward and kisses your shoulder. “But there is something going down tonight. I only just got back an hour or so ago. But I promise once things settle down, I’ll be around more. I’ll always be here for you,” Dean assures you.

You turn to face him and try to stifle your tears of relief.  “I’ll be here for you too,” you say in return. You know they won’t talk to you about business but you want them to know you’ll always be a soft place for them to land. You return your attention to your food. You pick up a radish and look at it with skepticism.

“What, you don’t like radish?” Dean asks as he notices you slow down.

“No, it’s just… I thought I read somewhere that pregnant women should avoid eating raw sprouts.” You try and remember the long list of rules that come with pregnancy.

Dean doesn’t respond. He simply takes the piece of produce from your hand and throws it over his shoulder. “There, now it’s gone. Keep eating,” Dean encourages you. He doesn’t know what else to say. He now realizes he has a lot to learn about what you should and shouldn’t be allowed to do in the upcoming months. He has this fear that he will do the wrong thing and accidently hurt you or the baby. He only wishes Sam was here to help him remember all the dos and don’ts, Sammy is always good with that kind of stuff.

You giggle at the mess he made behind him. The protective glint in his eyes fill you with warmth. You feed him a baby carrot and he rests his hand on your stomach.

“Dean, I-” you stop talking when you see Sam enter the room. You sink further into Dean as you avoid meeting Sam’s gaze. You don’t want him to notice the sorrow that brews in your eyes at his presence. He has every right to disregard you and be with other women. You are his. He is not yours. But, it hurts all the same.

Sam walked into a domestic display of momentary happiness. He hates that his presence ruined it. Your shrunken shoulders show that you fear his reaction. Plus, Dean is leveling Sam with a fiery glare. He is silently threatening Sam to even try hurting you again. But, that’s not why Sam is here.

Sam walks over to where you and Dean are sitting. He crouches down and rests on his haunches in front of you. At this level, he can see the tears pooling in your eyes. Sam reaches up to cup your cheek and Dean’s arms tighten around you in an instinctive act of protection. It kills Sam that Dean thinks he needs to be your amour. Sam would never hurt you, not again. He sends his brother a reassuring look. The look tells Dean that Sam is here to make things right. Dean nods and loosened his grip over you. Sam holds your cheek and forces you to look up at him.

“I owe you an apology, Y/N.”

That catches your attention. It is the first time Sam has ever called you by your real name. Dean has plenty of times, but never Sam. He smiles when you finally meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he completes his apology. “I have no excuse for how I reacted. And, for what you overheard me saying,” Sam lowers his head with shame. Dean told Sam you were eavesdropping on their fight. It was bad enough knowing those spiteful lies spilled from his lips but it killed him to know you heard them too. “I didn’t mean a single word. I won’t bore you with why I did and said those things but I need you to know-”

“No, please.” You interrupt him. “I want to know. I want to know what I did wrong. I want to know how I pushed you to say those things. That way, I won’t do it again. It will help me be better. I want to be better for you,” you plead. 

Despite everything, you cannot quell your desire to be good for him. This goes beyond not wanting to break their rules. This isn’t just about pleasing them. You have the delusional hope that if you do as you are told or listen well enough, they will grow to care for you. You’re hoping one day they will want you in the same way you want them. You know they could never love you. But you’ll settle for anything they are willing to give.

Sam’s eyes narrow with confusion. “Baby girl,” he pulls you off Dean’s lap so you can sit with him on the floor. He wraps his arms around you and you melt into his touch. “You did nothing wrong. You understand that, right?” When you don’t respond Sam turns you in his hold. “I need you to understand that.” The idea that you are blaming yourself for Sam’s idiocy breaks his heart. Over the past four months he has gotten used to the feelings you brew within him. But it never fails to surprise him how deeply you can break him with one sorrowful look.

“I understand,” you try convincing everyone that you believe your own words.

Sam isn’t quite persuaded by your lackluster response. But he doesn’t push the issue right now. He will make you believe it later. For now, there are more pressing concerns. “Mom was here and she-”

“Your mother was here?” You interrupt him again. You look around the disordered kitchen and you know for a fact that the rest of the house is in just as much disarray. You cringe to yourself at the thought of Mrs. Winchester seeing the mess. You don’t want her to think you can’t take care of her boys or their home. “Did you tell her I was sick last week? I mean I now know it was morning sickness that lasted all day, but did you tell her that? You told her that I usually keep this place clean for you guys, right?” you ask Sam with widened eyes.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Dean asks as he scoops you out of Sam’s arms and forces you to continue eating, everything but the radishes. “Most people hear our mom’s name and they run for cover. But you’re worried that she can’t handle a little dust?” Dean laughs as he steals some of your dip.

“No… it’s just… I know she already wouldn’t approve of me. I know my father is no friend of the Winchesters. I know what people think of my family. She probably thinks I’m just your kept whore. So, I don’t want to make it worse by-”

“Hey!” Dean stops your rambling by giving you a deep growl. “Do not say that shit. Don’t even think it.”

“But I-”

“Dean is right,” Sam says as he gets off the floor and pulls up a chair in front of you. “You don’t say those types of things about yourself. No one disrespects a Winchester. And, you’re a Winchester now.”

“That means, you’re not allowed to talk shit about yourself anymore,” Dean finishes his brother’s thought.

“I – I’m a… I can’t be…” you too stunned to form coherent sentences. They can’t be serious. They couldn’t actually see you as family. You don’t deserve their name. You rest your palm on your stomach and look down to regain your thoughts. They must only be saying this because of the baby. You are only a Winchester as long as you bear their child. This can’t be about you. They can’t care about you for your own sake. “Wait,” you perk your head up as you push those thoughts away. “Is your mom a pretty blonde about this tall?” You raise your arm to the appreciate height.

“Yeah,” Sam answers. “We we’re talking upstairs in my room. Why?”

“No reason. I just think I saw her in the halls is all,” you say as you understand the woman Sam was with was only his mother. With that realization, the tightening in your chest starts to fade. You feel stupid for being jealous but at least he never knew you were.

“You saw her and she didn’t attack you with questions or drag you to go pick out paint colours for the nursery?” Dean asks with surprise at his mother’s inaction.

“I said I saw her. She didn’t see me. I’m sneaky,” you wink at Dean as your feeling more comfortable joking right now.

“Oh really? Does that mean you have been getting yourself into trouble without us knowing?” Dean starts bouncing you on his knee as he tickles your sides.

Your fit of giggle is broken by Sam’s booming voice. “Dean! You have to be careful with her!”

You are surprised by the genuine worry in his eyes. You get off Dean’s lap to go sit with Sam. You nuzzle into him. It is a silent reassurance that you are fine, you can take it. You’re not breakable. 

“We have to get you to the doctor,” Sam says as his hands land on your stomach for the first time. He can almost feel a spark of hope trail up through his arm and pierce his heart.

“Dude, relax! She can handle being tickled for like two seconds,” Dean rolls his eyes at his brother’s sudden overprotectiveness.

“That’s not what I meant,” Sam gives his brother a look of unadulterated annoyance and it makes you giggle. “Mom said we should get her to a doctor. We have to know for sure that this is happening and everything is alright.” Sam shifts you in his arms. “How do you even know, sweetheart? You haven’t even been able to take any home pregnancy tests.”

“Well, I am late. Really freaking late. Then the nausea hit and then the tiredness. But aside from the little things, I just kind of know. I know it sounds stupid and it’s totally unscientific. But, I just don’t feel alone anymore. I guess I could be wrong but I don’t think I am. I can feel it.”

You weren’t wrong. You sit in the backseat of the Impala and look at the sonogram the doctor printed for you. Although you had a feeling it was true, having the evidence in front of you makes it all the more real.

Nine weeks. Your web-footed alien is nine weeks old. The doctor showed you a diagram of what the little freak would look like up close. Dean called your fetus ‘creepy looking’ but Sam slapped his shoulder to shut him up. You couldn’t help but laugh and agree with Dean. Luckily, it will be a lot cuter when it comes out.

The weight of how unprepared you are for this responsibility hasn’t hit you yet. You’re fears are kept at bay by the boys’ reassurance that everything will be fine. You believe them. You’re in this together. You will help each other through it. Three against one, those aren’t bad odds.

“Sam,” you say as you lean over the front seat.

“Hey! Sit back and buckle the hell up!” Dean demands with a booming voice when he sees you in his periphery.

“We’re at a red light,” you defend your actions.

Dean doesn’t need to respond. You see his fiery glare in the rear-view mirror and do as you are told.

Once you’re settled, Sam turns around in his seat. “What did you need, baby girl?”

“I lost it again,” you say as you hold up the sonogram. The thing inside you is barely the size of a golf ball and the grainy picture is damn near impossible to read. Sam is the only one who can see it clearly. You have already asked him a dozen times to point it out to you, but you keep losing it.

Sam doesn’t seem to mind the fact you are constantly bugging him. He is showing great patience with you. You can only imagine he will be same way with your baby. That thought makes you smile as he directs your gaze to the swirly smudge of grey that is your future family.

“Please! It only happens tonight! It won’t take long, I promise!” You plead with Sam and Dean as they force you to get ready for bed.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. We can’t. We’ve got business to take care of tonight,” Dean informs you.

“Then I don’t mind doing it alone. I’ll just be on the front lawn. I won’t go anywhere else,” you promise them. A little while ago, you planted some Angel’s Trumpets in your garden. It was difficult convincing them to let you plant such a poisonous flower. But, after you showed them pictures of the delicate bud, they gave in. But the truly special thing about these flowers is that they bloom at night. And, you figured out that they will probably bloom tonight.

“We can’t let you sit out there all on your own,” Sam reminds you of the reasoning he gave you the first time you asked them. “We’ll be hosting a meeting in the study, we won’t have time to come check on you. And, we can’t be distracted during the meeting.”

“If you’re out there, we won’t be able to focus. It will be dark and you’ll be alone. We can’t risk it,” Dean reiterates his brother’s stance.

“Don’t you trust me?” You ask a little hurt by their unwillingness to even let you onto the front lawn alone. You thought you were passed this.

“We trust you,” Dean reassures you as he pulls you into his arms.

“It’s other people we don’t trust,” Sam informs your as he moves in behind you. “There is a new deal going down tonight. You don’t need the details. All you need to know is that it is going to piss some people off. And, we would feel a lot better knowing that when it goes down, you’re safe up here in your room.” Sam kisses the back of your shoulder.

“We’ve had a busy day,” Dean directs your attention to the sonogram that now sits on your nightstand. “You need to rest and we need a little piece of mind. Just for the next little while,” Dean implores you.

“Fine,” your relent with a dissatisfied groan. “But you owe me,” you say before you can stop yourself. You cringe as you await your punishment for talking back.

To your surprise, the boys simply nod and say they will make it up to you. You expected them to tie you to the bed and make you wear vibrating panties. You expected they would make you sit in that position until they finished with their meeting. That’s what they did the last time you got snippy with them. But maybe the new baby is making them a little more lenient. You don’t know how long their agreeable moods will last, but you are hoping it will last a little while longer. Especially, for what you’re about to do.

The boys kiss you goodnight and leave you alone in your room. You change back out of your pajamas and wait a few minutes. You creep into the hall and tiptoe down the stair. You walk past their study. The door is shut and you can hear angry voices from within. That means, Sam and Dean will no doubt be occupied for the next long while. You have plenty of time to get in and out before they even know you were gone.

You slip out of the house and sit on the lawn. The dewy grass gets your dress wet but the slight discomfort will be worth it. You’ve always loved these flowers. When you were a kid, your mom would take you to the botanical gardens downtown. Angel’s Trumpets were always your favourite. Your mom would take you there at night so you could watch them bloom with the other enthusiasts. You didn’t find out until you go older, but she did it to get you out of the house. Your father would often keep the company of unsavoury visitors. It wouldn’t be unusual for him to get roughed up by the people he owed money to. She didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire. She used to protect you back then. But as you go older, that changed.

You rest your hand on your belly while you wait. You will do better for your child. You will give this baby a better family. You will protect him or her, always. You make a silent promise of eternal safety and unyielding protection.

But as fate would have it, your vows are short lived.

Just as the ivory flowers begin to bloom, you hear tires screeching as a wild car rounds the street corner. The car peels past your home. Orange flashes of light and loud cracks of gunfire illuminate the darkened yard. You dive down onto the lawn and make yourself as flat as possible.

Once the driver believes enough damage has been done, the car speeds away. It was over as quick as it began. You stay curled into the ground in a state of shock. You crane you neck and look back at your flowers. Most have been destroyed by bullets. Except for one, one perfect Trumpet dangles above you. But it is not a perfect ivory as the others are. It is splattered with red and dripping the deep colour onto the soil. It is bleeding.

As the obvious realization that flowers don’t bleed washes over you, you uncurl your body. Then, the pain hits you. Your yellow dress is now turning red. The redness is spreading at an alarming rate from the perfectly round hole in your side.

Your first instinct is to call for your boys. They will be mad at you for disobeying them, but they will help you. You go to scream but nothing comes out. Your voice bleeds out of your open wound. You look up at the Angel’s Trumpet and wish they could be played. You pray for an angel to sing a warning call to your boys on your behalf. But that is a fruitless hope. No angel will save you. You will die if you wait around for the angels, your baby will die. You have to save yourself.

You try to push yourself off the ground to make it to the front door. You are only able to crawl a few feet before a cramp in your lower belly cripples your movements. The pain is worse than the gunshot. It is worse because you know that kind of pain can only mean one thing. More blood starts seeping out of you. Except this time, the blood paints your thighs with the stain of death.

You let yourself sink back into the grass as the pain envelopes you. Your body starts to shiver from the fear. You know it’s too late. You failed. You failed before you even got a fair chance. You wanted to be better. If you listened to Sam and Dean, their baby would still be alive. They will never forgive you. You will never forgive yourself.

Your tear stained cheek presses against the grass and you wait. You’re not waiting for your boys to come save you. You’re waiting for the angels.  

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[blueangelicrose]

A New Beginning: Chapter 4:The Bet (part 1)

"Do you and your brother remember me?" Joan's words hung in the air for what seemed like a million years. There was, what it seemed, complete silence between the two of them. Then Mugman finally replied, "I'm sorry miss, I don't really know who you are. Actually this is my first time seeing you here at the casino. Maybe my brother would know, I'll ask him." "Ask me what? What do I know?" Joan flinched as the oh so familiar voice spoke out right beside her. She didn't even hear him coming! Maybe it was because the casino games and people are so loud. Or maybe it was the fact that she was really shocked and nervous that she finally met the brothers after all these years. "Oh, there you are Cuphead! We have a question for you." Mugman said eagerly. "Lay it on me brother!" Cuphead exclaimed. Mugman replied,"This young lady here wants to know if we have ever met her before." Cuphead raised a brow and then a cocky smirk, "Muggy you and I are only 18 years old. 'Young lady'? Really? You sound like an old man again." Mugman made a look, a head gesture, and a 'Ahem'/cough toward Joan, that said, "Shut up and just answer the damn question!" Cuphead got the memo loud and clear. He replied, "Ummm....to answer that question.... I'm not really sure. Hey miss? Can you please turn around so I can see your face? It's kinda hard to tell who you are just by looking at part of your face." Joan started to sweat profusely but not to the point where it showed. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and turned around to face him. She opened her eyes and saw an older looking Cuphead. He, like his brother had similar features. In both race, height, looks (kinda), and clothing. The only difference between them were that Cuphead's head was a little more wider and circular. And that his uniform had a red color theme to it and had a red diamond patch at the corner top of his vest. Oh and did I mention, their personalities as well? Joan had her thick glasses on and of course had her hair in the way (sort of), so Cuphead couldn't tell that she was wide eyed and was about to blush and cry at the same time. She did everything in her power from losing her composure and making a scene (again). She, unbeknownst to Cuphead and Mugman, she was using both of her hands to squeeze the sides of the bar chair. Trying very hard not to jump out of the chair and giving Cuphead a big kiss and hug. Cuphead stared at her for the longest time, then finally replied, "Nope! Never met her! I would definitely remember your face. I'm good with faces, so I definitely would know."

Joan figured as much. She WAS the one to seal away their memories of her and what they did together 8 or 9 years ago. But she remembers it as if it was just yesterday. She remembered that when she first arrived at Inkwell Isle, she was the new kid in the neighborhood and everything was new to her. From seeing moving vehicles to seeing a skyscraper. Before living there, she was either in foreign countries or going back and forth between dimensions learning what her parents did for work and preparing to get ready for Heaven's training camp. The reason she was at Inkwell Isle was because her parents thought it would be a good idea for her and her twin sister to get some practice in before going to the training program for a few years. And becoming members of the Heaven's court in the next thousand years. She wasn't so enthused to being in a strange and remote part of the world. Her sister, on the other hand, was so excited that she could hardly keep still in one place. She kept trying to remind her sister that they were there for training purposes only. And not to fool around with either buying things that they didn't need or goofing off too much and not to wander off to far and to stay close to her. But her words were in vain. She turned around and her sister was gone. Joan face palmed her face and groaned. She started looking for her immediately while grumbling underneath her breath, "I'm the younger twin. So why do I have to act like the mature one around here?! You're supposed to set a good example for me and our family. What the heck Josephine?!" She cried out for her sister as she ran down the street. Looking left and right, she didn't notice that there was someone in front of her. She accidentally ran into a large, buff, and intimidating wolf man with scars on different parts of his body. As she stared at him, he replied, "Hey you little punk! Watch where you're going!" She snapped out of her surprised trance and tried to apologise, but she kept stuttering over her words. "Oh, I see. It's because I'm not human that you must think I'm a freak?! Go on! Say it! I dare you! Say I'm a freak! You're going to pay for being rude to me anyways!" She tried to get the words from her mouth but she couldn't. It was her first time feeling so scared. Even though she's seen a lot more scary things in the last 10,000 years, for some reason, she couldn't gather her courage to defend herself. Due to her heritage, she ages a lot slower than the average person; so she was basically only a 10 year old back then. Or at least had the appearance of one. But compared to how old her parents were and the rest of her family, she and her sister were considered as youngsters. The wolf man replied, "Well whether you say it or not, you're still gonna get a good beating!" As he grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, she closed her eyes and waited for him to punch her. But before he could, her sister jumped right on him and tried to hold his arm back.

Now you got to remember, they weren't ordinary little girls. They had numerous powers they could use. And the one Josephine used was her super strength to hold him from hitting her sister. Joan was surprised that her sister was doing this. For deep rooted and traumatizing reasons, Josephine hasn't fought seriously since the year of 1200 A.D. Back then, (730 years ago), they were only 9,270 years old and dealing with the Greek's Dark Ages. They both had to fend for themselves from the harsh obstacles, trials, and environment all around them. Josephine was fine with fighting then, but something happened that made her not want to willingly fight at all. So Joan had to do it for her and protect her. But now the roles were switched and now it was her sister's turn to protect her.

Josephine used all her strength to hold him back from hitting her, but for some reason, he wasn't letting go of her shirt. So she did the only thing that she COULD do. She climbed up further on his back until she got to the base of his neck, opened her mouth, and chomped down so hard that even a deaf person could hear it. The screams of pain that came afterwards were just as loud. He let go of Joan and as soon as he did, Josephine released him from her Hellishly powerful and painful bite grip from his neck, and grabbed Joan by the arm and yelled, "Ruuuuunnnn!!!!" They ran and ran until they ended up in the middle of the woods. They had no idea where they were and what they were going to do. But the first thing they did was stop to catch their breathes. Second thing they did was look at each other, hugged one another tightly, and wept until they had no tears left to shed.

After an hour or so, they were trying to make their way through the woods, seeing if they can find help. They were a tattered mess. Joan had tears in her shirt from the wolf man's claws from when he grabbed her, she was covered in dirt from running so much, and her hair was in disarray. Josephine wasn't any better. She was also covered in dirt from running so much, and had messy hair. But her face, especially around the mouth area, was covered in wolf man blood from when she bit him. They wanted to at least find a stream to wash up and get at least cleaned up to the point where they didn't look like they had committed a murder.

When they finally found a decent stream of water, it was already sunset and was getting dark. When they were about reach for the water they heard voices on the other side of the stream. The voices were getting closer and closer to them. Until they, (the people), were in view, but only in shadow form. The sisters were frightened, and hid behind some bushes until the people left. They were perfectly quiet until one of them accidentally broke a stick, making a loud 'SNAP'! The people on the other side heard this and replied, "Who's there?! Show Yourself! We're armed and we're not afraid to use 'em!" The sisters cried out, "Wait! Don't fire, please! We just want some water and help!" As the sisters were coming out of the bushes, Joan whispered to her sister to stay behind her since she didn't want to scare the people that possibly had firearms on them. She did exactly that, since she had so much blood on her face.

As they came out, the sun was shining a golden light in between the stream of water making it glisten like jewels. As both the sisters and the people stepped into the sun light they were able to properly get a good look at each other. As the sisters stared at the people across from them, they realized that they weren't people, monsters, adults with dangerous firearms, or all of the above combined together. They were little cup children that were carrying not firearms, but butterfly nets. And like how Josephine was hiding behind Joan, the little blue mug child was hiding behind the little red cup child. They looked to be about the girls ages, you know, appearance wise. As the sun shone down on Joan's beautiful, messy, bright blonde hair, it revealed her wild, but glowing, icy blue eyes. Cuphead's mouth went slightly ajar and his eyes started to go wide and glisten and started to blush a slight red across his face. Joan saw his reaction towards her and couldn't help but think, "What's the matter with him? He's just staring at me. And I think he has a cold. Does he have a fever? Why isn't he saying anything? Is it because of how I look right now?" Joan was new to love back then. After the thousands of years that she's lived, she never once had a crush on someone and vice versa before, until now.

To be continued.....

End of chapter 4 part 1. To be continued in chapter 4 part 2.

[diaryofsecrecy]

It has been the most exhausting year of my entire life and I will be surprised if I ever top it...

Brent was having a hard time adjusting to the altitude when we 1st came out here, (July 8th 2020) But as time went on he got better as expected. Then suddenly he got worse and worse, Eventually he lost the job that he got because he was calling out so often throwing up and experiencing extreme nausea.  Because of covid, the doctors were booked for weeks (new patient) so it was just kind of a waiting game until we finally decided to just go to the ER.  They did a full blood panel and decided that he needs to see a GI doctor because everything else is normal. So, That was booked 2 weeks out and he was sent home with nausea medication for one week...

Of course we were going to try to buy or rent so I was freaking out about money and working as much as I possibly could... But then I too had to go to the emergency Room because I had extreme abdominal pain resulting in an emergency appendectomy😖

The day after my surgery, I am home, when my dad comes in with my older sister.

To my knowledge, my older sister was diagnosed paranoid schizofrantic. She has been Homeless for the last 11 years,  And on drugs.  She recently was beaten so badly that she was left with several brain injuries on top of it all, And while she was healing at the hospital somehow they didn't notice her walk out.  We were just about to get her placed somewhere safe...And they lost her.

Anyhow dad walks in with my sister who I guess called him from a coffee shop when they told her that she couldn't sleep there anymore (after a month of being missing again) Dad had to go back to work so then it was me & her for the next 2 days, As you can imagine, not the rest I needed post surgery... then, I had to go back into the hospital because something wasn't right. I was there for 3 more days, 2 days alone because ben was so sick that it was worse with him being there than me sitting by myself in pain and nausea of my own.

Fast forward a few more months, tragic accidents led to 2 separate deaths of my parents dogs. Both events I happen to be present, so get blamed & am no longer welcome at mom & dads.

(Still healing from sugury, brent still very sick)

We get an apartment, and I start working as a nanny for my aunt twice a week while working at Massage Envy the other 5 days.

At this point, I am tired. I am horney, and lonely, and Absolutely. Fucking. Miserable.

I am begging ben to keep up with drs. but he has lost hope of getting better, and I have no way of helping him when I am already worn too thin.

After 9, Long, long months, he eventually, with my consistent pushing, nagging, most likely not always kind remarks, he finds out his hormones are completely off, which I knew would be the case, his dick hadnt worked for the last 3 years properly..

Anyway. He blames his addiction medication rather than continuing dr. Appointments... he gets on testosterone with an outside company(pay out of pocket kind of subscription company...rather than checking insurance, or figuring out what causes low testosterone and fixing that first). I was working and had no influence in any of those choices that effect us both as they have for at least 2 years. He hasnt touched me for so, so, long.

Month 3 of his medication that seems to be working (only reason I know is there was a ton of porn in my google history, he had declined all advances, except the rare, 3 times he allowed a blowjob then left immediately after for the gym or literally anything else rather than make it romantic at all.)

Month 4, he forgets to make a payment at all, so now we owe $250 rather than the normal $100. His meds get sent, then FedEx loses the package all together so, he is sick and I am house sitting in a dream home, alone for 2 weeks straight that originally was going to be our getaway to focus on Us.

At this point, brent and I havnt slept in the same bed for 2 months. At first cause he says I'm mean and he wants to not be near me, but now its cause hes "more comfortable out in the living room..."

A month ago when we last had a conversation about our relationship he said he wants space and a break from me all together. I'm too much.

I am the problem..?

When trying to understand what he means, he shuts down the connvo, saying he cant talk about it anymore. It's been 30 days since we have made any verbal progress. Our fighting has stopped though, and I'll tell you why...

Rewind 1 week before house sitting;

1 week after brent and I had an awful fight where he told me we should take a break, I stay at my parents & My mom offers for me to join them at a graduation party of a kid I used to babysit.

We were sitting in the back of the dining room, out of the way, when I saw someone i slightly recognized in the hallway. Not sure from where, but he was the kind of guy that you couldnt stop looking at. He was clearly into fitness, his shirt couldnt hide the muscular features he had been perfecting either, despite him dressing nothing out of the ordinary. He had beautiful ink crawling up his leg, an artform that would only mean something to someone who is more spiritually awake. But more noticable about anything was that smile.

God that smile. His face was scruffy, as if he had been away, but regardless, the smile he had influenced his entire ora. His eyes smiled, his walk... smiled. He had some kind of thing about him that was a physical draw I had never known for myself before. Dont get me wrong, i have been woo'd by many men so far in my life, from all stages in life, but This one was just, different. He was making his way around the room, & I could hear his voice over my mom who's talking beside me. I had literally been blocked out by my ever wondering thoughts of this random stranger whom felt familiar.

Then, he was there, at our table?

He was so easy to talk to, not even sure how we started now, but all I know is I was not nervous despite my very physical attraction to him.

He spoke of traveling, and adventures hes been on. This guy had a whole other life in the military at one point and now was traveling, working for a company that sends him around the US.

This guy had Hope's and dreams and somehow we got to talking about that kind of thing at a graduation party?

When I left that day, I thought about him. Not just him specifically, but men like him. Had I chosen Brent wrongfully? Does brent even like who I am anymore, what does he want going forward in his own life? How do I even fit into that? He understands my need for adventure but his actions say that he doesnt want to come along. My mind was loopy after that because for the first real time I questioned, what if there was someone who wanted to see the world,  Who liked my sad music, and my emotions being in everything I do? What if there was a women more interested in the simple home life, having a couple dogs and living a small, comfortable life? Are we doing one another a disservice by occupying oneanother's lives? How could I ever bring that up with Brent at all without making him feel so inadiquite after a year of terrible sickness and defeat?

Well, when I went to that big, gorgeous dream home the following week to house sit for 2 weeks... begging him to come see me, I grew weak from overthinking. I cried, I cried so much the first 3 days.

I cried from a place of such sadness, anger, bitterness, defeat, they were so strong. My mind was cloudy, drunk, stoned, tired.... I found myself writing a suicide letter.

My plan was to disappear, I knew I'd find a firearm in the home & allow someone to find my remains eventually in the hills where I'd walk far enough.

I prepared by cleaning the litterbox, laying out several bowls of water for the dog and cat, and watered all the plants heavily. I transfered brent all the money in my bank accounts, and as I waited for the sheets to come out of the dryer I balled my eyes out, reading the last conversations I had had with my family members. I thought to myself how the kids would take it, what different life choices they would make having been close with someone before their passing. At this point, I needed something, but I needed it from someone who doesnt know me in my life right now, but the me that was worth saving. The me I still recognized.

I called an old friend from 2nd grade. Hadnt talked to her in years and years, didnt known her life, her schedual, her name(which had been changed). But she talked me down. She saved my fucking life. It took a person who knew my soul years ago, to remind me I am not alone.

I dont blame my parents, or who I thought would be my future husband. I had talked with my aunt earlier that day and she couldnt see it either. I had become this fake shell of a person and it took considering an actual murder of myself to make me see that if I continued this path, I would die eventually and nobody in my life would ever see me preparing for it.

That night, I invited a complete stranger over and we fucked like rabbits. 4 times. He got to do things he'd never done before, and I begged him to. Sounds cold, sounds unapologetically disgusting that I'd do something like that, but quite frankly, I FUCKING needed it. I needed someone to see me, even if he didnt see my current life nor care about me as a person... he saw, touched, kissed, sucked and ate me up. For the first time in at least 2 years, i felt satisfaction when I walked him to the door and watched his car drive away.

It was like a sigh of relief, an inch I could not reach for the longest time, gone. Finally.

The following days, brent began putting in more effort. It has been 3 weeks and I'd say he has been kinder to me than he had in a while (probably the lack of testosterone) but also, I havnt seen much of him in general. From his point of view, it is all fine. Hes getting the space he needed, I'm being nicer since I quit massage Envy, and things are looking up....

But that is because he doesnt See Me.

My suisidal thoughts subsided after my long conversation with Scout. & that night I called my cousin as well, and learned he too had been in my shoes before. He said something that stuck with me.

If everyone has an expiration date on their life already, and we don't know when it is, you're to the point that you're life is so invaluable that youd kill yourself than flee your life and make one you want. Dont care about the people youd hurt, because suicide is just as careless as abandoning them all indefinitely.

He was so right, it put things into perspective, gave me a freedom I felt I was waiting to gain permission for.

Five days later, I noticed He had written me 5 before, on the day I had truly planned to end my current life..

He had written me at 12am, what would someone like him, a gorgeous, beefed out, big thinker, high energy, go getter be doing messaging me, a tired women who was 300lbs a year ago, (still working on getting to a normal size) and completely at a crossroads with existance.

I entertained the connvo a tad, and honestly forgot about it for a few days as I figured no way he could be serious.

He triple messaged me, and asked for my personal contact info to have real conversation?

Hesitantly, and wildly excited to even just flirt for a moment with someone who is literally everything I fantasize when I'm alone everynight....

Our conversation immediately took off. In directions I hadnt expected at all what so ever. He told me he had to admit he felt drawn to me, like he had known me in another life. That he doesnt expect me to get it, but I did. We talked about things that only my sister and I can relate to on a spirituality standard and it changed me in that instant. Suddenly i realize, I wasn't broken, I was just misunderstood. & that there are people in this world that See Me even when I am not trying. Not many, and it takes a specific Kind of person, but they do exist and when you meet them, you cant ignore it. It is as if they stain you with remembrance.

As the sexually hungry humans we are, not only did we find that morality, values, future goals coexist, but also our importance of intimacy. Not just lust and sex, well, yes that too, uff did those conversations get so, fucking, hot, but the interactions of intimacy and how they make a person whole.

I opened up to him about Brent, and where I am at in life, asking he please oversee my unfaithfulness, but that I am loyal at heart. He says with such pain in his voice how he too in a parallel position simultaneously, however, he married her 7 years ago.

Ugh.

So now I get to choose. Do I chose mortality, say no, brent and the other women deserve to understand the severity of sex, love and passion, and if they chose not to then we will leave before we act on our mutual attraction....? Or, do we say hell with it and give in to serendipity moments that our hearts crave so badly, take on the consequences and move forward. Sigh. If only there was a guideline for complicated.

Last night, as the 5 nights before, we talked for hours on the phone. His voice makes me smile every, damn, time. Perhaps because it's new and exciting, or maybe I just love to hear him go on his tangents of loving yourself despite the bad in life. I Want him. I want him when I wake, &when I go to sleep. I do not want a life without him& it saddens me to know our timing is incorrect. He asked her for a divorce a year ago, but has sat comfortably as I have despite the horror because weve both been too busy, too tired, too... afraid that life will always be lonely. Last night, he said to me, Elise, I love you. I avoided it several times but when he said it two more times, I couldnt keep it any longer to myself, Jackson, I really do Love you as well. It's scary, and faster than I'd ever say it to anyone. But I know it to be true because I Feel it. I want his love so badly. I want him to live life along side of me because with a person like him, I'd be a better me.

I am absolutely terrified. My life, my home, my family, dogs, my 5 year relationship, the unborn children brent and I have named, and the houses we'd have... all gone?

Running away with a man who says hes going to leave his wife is absolutely stupid. I'd be an idiot to think I am enough to get him through that fear of change, yet he gives me strength to want to try, so maybe I do, Him?

Ugh my brain being pulled in many ways. My heart having been in pieces so many times now doesnt know who to go to or why. I know for certain I love Brent, is this a self gratifying moment To push me back to him? Is this the devil bringing two lost people together to ruin four people at once?or is this Fate. Fate that has seen both of us individually loosing ourselves in a life we didnt want and has brought us together to lean on one another, temporarily not?

Suppose time will tell.

Last two days he has been working a ton, and told me that tomorrow he has something he needs to talk to me about.

I assume it isnt good. I assume it is the first put off of many, because, I know I want to do the same. Part of me says I should block him right now, because lust, and attraction, both mentally and physically like that couldnt make a women addicted and that's a no good addiction when he has a women in his house with his last name. 😔

[chrismaverickdotcom]

I'm a not so good guy...

I’m a teacher… and I think I’m pretty damn good at it. I know for a fact that at least a few of my former students read my blog, and I bet they’d say I’m pretty damn good too. But I wasn’t always a teacher. I’ve had a lot of other jobs. I’ve designed computer software. I’ve been a photographer. I’ve written comic books. I’ve worked in retail. I’ve worked in a restaurant. I worked at a TV station. I was a paperboy. Hell, I was even a professional wrestler for a little bit there. That’s a lot of jobs, and I’m not even Jamaican.

One job I’ve never had was being in the military. And it’s not that I couldn’t have been. I totally could have. I was a poor black kid in high school in the 90s. Military recruiters love poor black kids. So I was totally offered a chance to be all I could be and see the world or whatever the fuck the slogan was back then. I turned it down. I was offered a ROTC scholarship. Turned that down too. A recruiter from the Air Force Academy came to my school to try and get me to come there too. Once again, I said no. See, I just wasn’t interested in being a soldier. It didn’t excite me then. It doesn’t excite me now. And in all the years since, I have never regretted that decision. See, when I think of the idea of “risking your life to fight for the rights and safety of others.” My next thought is something along the lines of “well, that doesn’t sound like something I’d want to do.”

I have no particular ill-will against the military. I had a lot of friends who did enlist. Good for them. Good for cops too. These people provide a very important role to society. I am thankful that there are people out there willing to fulfill it.

I’m not that guy. Honestly…. I’m just not that good a person.

And see, this is important. In fact it’s very important. This is something that everyone who is ever one of my students, and ESPECIALLY everyone who is ever the parent of any one of my students needs to understand.

See, every time there’s a school shooting, the national conversation predictably turns to the question of gun control and school safety… and this becomes predictably political. You have a lot of politicians on the left saying “this is why we need gun control” and then the right retorts with “have some respect. This is not the time, these families are going through tragedy. Now is not the time for your political agenda.” (As a side note, whatever it is that ultimately kills me, I want the record to show that anyone who loves my has my permission… and in fact my INSISTENCE… that you immediately start petitioning Congress to ban whatever killed me. If I am crushed to death in a freak accident by two tons of cotton balls, I want a fucking bill trying to take down the cotton ball cartel on the floor of the House by the end of the week).

Anyway, nothing ever comes of these talks because it’s apparently never the time to talk about gun control, So regular everyday people start passing around memes. Some of them are really stupid. I had the pleasure refuting the ridiculousness of one that my wife’s cousin, William, posted earlier today, which pointed out that there were only 374 “rifle deaths” in 2016 and there were 478,000 cigarette deaths. Actually the meme cited a bunch of stuff that was “more deadly than rifles.” Including “fists.” Of course, it was bullshit… which was pretty easy to prove if you spent like 5 minutes reading the sources that the meme claimed to be citing… or if you gave it 10 seconds worth of intelligent thought on your own. But whatever… as I’ve said many times before all facts are alternative, some are more alternative than others. But whatever… the nice thing about dumb memes is that they’re pretty easy to refute and I can go make fun of people by being smart and this amuses me… because I’m just not that good a person. I’m a petty little man and I kind of delight at being smarter than other people and sometimes take pleasure in their misfortune.

Every time one of these big mass shootings comes around and kills white people (killing brown people is much smaller news) we get a different take on it. In the past we’ve blamed video games. We’ve blamed movies. We’ve blamed mental health. We’ve blamed bump stocks. But this particular go round, led by the “genius intellect” of the B-movie super villain that we’ve elected President we’re actually trying to have a serious discussion about whether or not the problem would be better if we armed teachers. Arming teachers… you know… like me.

Now, I want to point out that this isn’t the first time this has come up from this administration. During her actual senate confirmation hearing the current Secretary of Education actually floated the need for armed teachers in order to defend students from possible bear attacks. She wasn’t joking. This was a serious concern of hers. Of course, then on her first day at work she also tweeted she couldn’t do anything because she was unable to find the pencils. So that’s the bar of intelligence we’re working with here. But now, the US President has piled on… and because he’s said it a couple times (and then in a brilliant tweet storm today, denied that he said it and then went on to reiterate it over the course of half a dozen tweets) it’s become news. And something that people are having to have a serious conversation about.

So let me make this clear. This is a dumb idea.

Earlier today, the Broward County sheriff’s department released a statement that apparently there was an armed deputy on duty at Stoneman Douglas high school during the shooting. He was a trained law enforcement official. He knew that there was a shooting going on. And he opted to do… nothing. He made a decision that there was gunfire happening in a building and even though he had a gun, the smartest thing for him to do… was not enter that building. Basically he was faced with the option of protecting his own life or the lives of others… a position that no one forced him into… he volunteered for that career. He swore and oath to serve and protect. But in the heat of the moment, when faced with the reality of the situation… he chose himself over others.

I get it…

My wife, Stephanie, linked to this story earlier. And of course, a right wing friend of hers, Jeffrey, immediately tried to refute it by saying “a single person lacking the courage to act does not mean that others in that situation may have saved lives.” I laughed at this. Jeff then tried to counter me by pointing out “Somebody took out the Texas church shooter with a gun. It happened to late to prevent the initial killings but someone did step up and we don’t know if that shooter would have attacked others. Its no guarantee but to say it won’t ever happen just doesn’t make sense.” And my friend Adam pointed out that just because it worked out once doesn’t mean it’s a particularly good idea.

I’m actually going to split the difference. It’s happened more than once. In fact, because I happened to do some research earlier to refute William’s ridiculous rifle’s are safer than fists or cigarettes meme (I bet you didn’t expect that to come back around), I just happen to know that in 2016, there were exactly 276 justifiable homicides using some type of firearm by a private citizen. Of course, from the same research I also happen to know that contrary to the meme there were 58,853 reported criminal shootings that year. So, that means 0.4% of shootings result in a justifiable defensive kill.

And sure… oh right wing reader… I know what you’re thinking: “But if more people had guns, there’d be more saves.” Well, it turns out at that from the same research, I also just happen to know that the 276 justifiable homicides were out of 1,980 attempts to defend oneself with a firearm. So it works about 14% of the time. Usually against someone with a similar class of weapon. And sure… better than nothing. Except… I also happen to know that there were 2,203 accidental shootings reported by registered gun owners that year. So while you are 14% likely to be able to kill an armed assailant if you have a gun… it turns out you’re 8x more likely to end up shooting some random other person during an attack or otherwise as you are to shoot a bad guy. So… to any parent who thinks this is a good idea… understand that the likelihood that I can defend your kid from an active shooter if one can happen is about 14%. And I’m 8x more likely to end up actually shooting them than I am defending them. Do you still want it? Math is fun!

And if your answer is yes… well, ok fine… I’ll take it.

See, because El Presidente also floated the great idea that hey, why don’t we give a bonus to the teachers willing to go through the training and carry a gun in the classroom. And… well, I like money.

But really.. understand who you’re asking and what you’re asking of me. I’m not a soldier. I’m not a hero. I don’t want to be. As I said at the beginning, I had that opportunity and I passed it up because I don’t want it. What I am, is a guy who reads funny books for a living. I’m the guy who gets paid to teach your kids to write. I’m the guy who gets paid to teach your kids about literature and it’s connection with feminism and sexuality and gender and race and marxism. Have you been reading this post? I’m an ultra-liberal, socialist, agnostic, feminist, pro-LGBTQ, pro-BLM, pro-union, pro-drug, pro-sex, pro-polyamory, pro-pornography, anti-religion, anti-establishment, damn-near anarchist SJW asshole. And you know… if you really want to pay ME to carry a gun around your kids… ok fine, I guess.

But understand something… I’m not going out of my way to take a bullet for your kid. I’m not going out of my way to shoot someone to protect your kid. I’m just not. Much like the deputy from Stoneman Douglas, if I see a gun, I’m probably running in the opposite direction. I’m just not that good a person. The only difference is, I’m telling you this right now upfront.

And I don’t think any of my students would expect any differently. As I said, I know for a fact that some of them read these. And they all know me very well. So, Ayana, Brooklin, Elysse and any of the other couple hundred students I’ve had the pleasure of teaching these last few years and might be reading this, I say to you… you are all wonderful, lovely, bright and intelligent people. I love and care for you all. And just to be clear, should you ever find yourself in a classroom with me again, and someone comes in with an automatic weapon, then RUN! FUCKING RUN!!! RUN AND HIDE!!! DO NOT WAIT FOR ME TO SHOOT THAT PERSON!!!

And see… because all of my students have been bright and intelligent. I’m pretty sure they know that. To their parents… I mean, don’t get me wrong… if I have a gun and I’m cornered, I’ll probably take the shot. But given the choice between trying to hunt down a guy with an assault rifle and well…. not doing that… I’m going to choose not… EVERY SINGLE TIME. Because that’s who I am. I’m a guy who’s pretty damn good at my job — reading funny books and talking about how they reflect culture — and I chose that job because I didn’t want to deal with bullets! I’m just not that good a person.

And the thing is, a lot of my friends are also teachers. I’m sure a lot of them are reading this and laughing… And honestly, most of them are far nicer and better people than I am. But I’m pretty sure you’re going to have a hard time finding a single one of us who is looking to take a bullet for your kid. Sorry.

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I’m a not so good guy… was originally published on ChrisMaverick dotcom

[peacekeeper-xiv]

Honest Q&A: Round 3! Table

By the Twelve! You’re all back!? I mean… um… welcome back, all. Yes. *Cough* Well, as much as it pains me to admit it, I am rather surprised you all accepted my invitation a third time. Excluding mister Mordenson who has… um... graciously chosen to join us despite lacking an invitation… Let’s begin with the obvious question. As usual, we will go around the table.

What is it that prompts you to answer these questions?

Lloire: “I suppose for myself, it’s that I have been through a lot lately. Answering these helps me better understand that man I was and who he is and who he is becoming. The more you learn about me, the more I learn about myself.”

Beta: “That… was surprisingly honest and introspective. Um… We have to be honest right? I’m mostly here to learn more about that guy and to make snarky comments.”

Chadrick: “Aye, ye do seem t’ ‘ave a chip on yer shoulder with ‘Scars’ there lad. Fer me? Ye offered me tha’ hefty pouch o’ gi—O’… too ‘onest ye say? As ye like.”

Aasifa: “The winds blow Aasifa here. You must ask them if you are wanting to know this thing, yes?”

K’risa: “Wait, I thought this was some kinda counseling thing? You’re not just some weirdo asking random questions are you?”

Benedict: “Master Peace there has the right of it. To know oneself is to know the gods.”

Chance: “Good fucking question. Hells if I know.”

Felix: *Laughs* “Master… Peace. Hah. I was bored.”

 Alright. Well, now that we have that settled, let’s get into the list of questions our readers have, yes? Great.

Imagine a future point in your life where all your dreams come true. It's the greatest moment in your life and you get to experience it with -one- person. Who's standing next to you?

Lloire: “…I… Well… I have no idea. It depends on the path I take I suppose. We defeat the empire, it’s Ikara or Soren. I manage to uncover all the lost magicks of the world and start a new school of magick, probably Yuti. I… retire and settle down to cook and live with a family… Some unknown person I’ve not met yet or a child I suppose. Choosing one person is too difficult I fear.”

Beta: “No it’s not. Watch. Ikara.” *Eyes Lloire suspiciously*

Chadrick: “Ah’m with tha lad truthfully. But maybe tha’s just us and ye ‘ave way more close friends than we. Fer me though, Aislyn.”

Aasifa: “Hmm, if Aasifa’s dreams are coming true, he is likely alone but he is rathering companion Rahya is with him, yes?”

K’risa: “Rathering is not a word. Where are you from anyways? Oh, I, uh, sorry I asked. Anyways, I don’t know enough people and I’m not all that close to anyone anymore so, I can’t say. Maybe the kid there. He’s adorable and snarky and would probably make whatever it was all the more fun.”

Benedict: “Sunny would be with me. This much I know.”

Chance: “Helfyre.”

Felix: “Oh, you’d all be witness to it.” *cackles* “But only Aya would be standing beside me.”

 On an average day, what can be found in your pockets?

Lloire: “Hmm, crystals, jewels, a knife, a few vials perhaps. Some gil obviously. On average.”

Beta: “Gears, wires, bolts, screws, tube of grease, tools, crystals, some nuts and berries maybe. Paper, pen. Um… tape, maybe some choco- oh, that’s enough Sure.”

Chadrick: “A wee bit o’ gil Ah suppose. Most e’erythin else is in me pack instead. Ah prefer t’ keep light on me feet.”

Aasifa: “Hmm, let Aasifa be seeing, yes?” *Starts emptying out pockets on the table* “Pepper shaker, feather of big fluffy dragon with hard to say name, someone else’s grocery list, wishbone of Dodo bird. Hmm… Ball of yarn, playing card, ball from Moogle Paw game. A shell from a snail. A pair of broken spectacles, a frog. Hmm, this is where garlean rubber band ball went. Wait… where is Aasifa’s cotton bolls?”

K’risa: “H-how did, did, you, fit?” *rubs her eyes* “Anyways! Sewing needle, thread, gil, measuring tape, that kinda stuff.”

Benedict: “Gil, as the others have noted… save for Lord Taqalid there. I also keep pamphlets for those interested in learning more of the Twelve as well as marks for each of them. Would anyone here like a pamphlet, no? Alright…”

Chance: “Gil. Knife.”

Felix: “Hmm, herb, poisons, bones, stones, vial of various bloods. What’s with the look? Oh please… fine.”

 What’s a body part that you wouldn’t mind losing?

Lloire: “Do we get to live without it? If so, I’d happily remove my heart.”

Beta: “Wow…. Just wow. That… yea.. um… I’d say… Maybe a leg? I could build a magitek one to replace mine. Maybe build a firearm inside it. One of those small ones that pops out in a bind. That would be neat, right?”

Chadrick: “Right… Ye both ‘ave given this thought before Ah see… Ah’d pick, feck… me little finger on me nay dominant ‘and Ah suppose. Cannay imagine losing me ability t’ see tha beauty o’ tha world, or smell good food some lass cooked, or hear ‘er beautiful singing or… well, ye get tha idea.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa is picking his appendix, yes?”

K’risa: “Your what now? I almost wanna swap seats again. I’d lose, an ear I guess? I could always wear hats to hide it.”

Benedict: “Hmm, I need my legs and arms to pray, perhaps an eye. Even if I lost both, Sunny leads us where we need to go anyways.”

Chance: “None. What? He said ‘mind’. I’d mind losing anything. You’re all freaks for not minding.”

Felix: “You know what an appendix is?” *eyes Aasifa* “I mean, that -is- the best answer, but mine is anything except my head. Whatever it is can be grown back.”

 What are three labels that you identify with?

Lloire: “Mage, survivor, guilty.”

Beta: “Yup… that sounds about right. You prolly should’a added Martyr first though. For me, Engineer, Inventor, and… Young.”

Chadrick: “Well shyte… ‘ero, dashin’, an’ expert.”

Aasifa: “What is label meaning? Oh! This thing! Aasifa is called vagrant, vagabond, and drifter, yes?”

K’risa: “Sure, Chad, sure. So glad you didn’t add humble. I guess for me it would be miqo’te, seamstress, excitable.”

Benedict: “This is an easy question. Faithful, devout, and friend”

Chance: “Merc, wolf, practical.”

Felix: “Manipulative, cunning, shadow.”

 Do you believe in soulmates?

Lloire: “… I did.”

Beta: “…not touching that one. Um, yes. I do.”

Chadrick: “Look, ye can test tha’ souls are real. Ye can also force two souls t’ bind t’gether. It’s nay ‘bout belief. It’s tha science o’ animas. But t’ answer tha question yer actually posing, nay. There be nay two people perfectly matched fer one another. Believin’ so will break yer ‘eart. There’s struggles an’ pain an’ shyte t’ work through to make things work, aye?”

Aasifa: “Aasifa is disagreeing. There is someone perfect for you, they are just not perfect person, yes?”

K’risa: “I’m with Lloire.”

Benedict: “Divine is their will. I cannot say that Nymeia’s hand does not guide two threads together in the forming of a beautiful tapestry.”

Chance: “No. Shit’s dumb. I’m with snowylocks there. You find someone you wanna be with and you work with them to make it. It isn’t some meant to be thing that doesn’t take hard work.”

Felix: “Hmm, actually. Yes. I do.”

 What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?

Lloire: “This may sound morbid… but the calamity. It was horrifying, terrifying, yet, beautiful it its raw destructive power. Bahamut is a terrible creature. Terrible, yet beautiful.”

Beta: “That… you are just full of surprises today. Anyroad… I saw some sketches of the inner workings of Alexander while speaking with some goblins in Idyllshire. They were the most… um. I mean Ikara. Yup! Definitely Ikara.”

Chadrick: “Tha’ was tha worst save in tha ‘istory o’ lads sayin’ dumb shyte tha’ might get back t’ their lasses e’er boyo. Ye need some practice. Ah can give ye a few pointers if ye like later. As fer me? Me ma’s smile.”

Aasifa: “Friend Chadrick is sweet person at times, yes? The lights of golden saucer from afar are prettiest thing Aasifa is thinking of.”

K’risa: “Chadrick! Don’t you dare corrupt that sweet, innocent, pure boy!” *Huffs* “Oh, right… umm… Snowfields. They just look so pure. Even if it’s cold as heck.”

Benedict: “The Sanctum of the Twelve is a beautiful place if you have not been.”

Chance: “Get the feeling ‘Scars’ there would disagree Benny. Sunrise. Means you made it through the night.”

Felix: “There was this Alagan princess…”

 Moving on!

What single act are you most ashamed of?

Lloire: “Trying to kill myself.”

Beta: “Good! You should be! But um… I’m glad you realized that… so um… that’s good. Uh… Oh! I know. Um, when I upset Ikara by not knowing what she meant about liking me and an awkward first kiss and yea… I felt like a warped tool.”

Chadrick: “Stealin’ from an old woman. Ah mean, she di’nay know ‘ow dangerous wha’ she ‘ad was… an’ it was fer ‘er own good… but still, it felt nasty, aye?”

Aasifa: “Aasifa let someone he was close to take her own life, yes? He did not see how miserable she had become and did not make better. This is greatest failure.”

K’risa: “That’s, really sad. Um. For me, failing for a hero.”

Benedict: “I think those thoughts are best left for confession with one’s gods.”

Chance: “Nothing wrong with falling for a hero. I’m not ashamed of what I’ve done. I wouldn’t change things.”

Felix: “What I put my daughter through.”

 Everyone has disdain for something or someone.  Who or what do you consider yourself to be “above”?

Lloire: “If I’m to be honest… those who the Imperials subjugate. The ones who work for them after they have been conquered. I have to fight off those feelings.”

Beta: “Yea, not everyone is a stupidly stubborn as you. Um… I guess… if I have to say… brutish people who only solve things with violence?”

Chadrick: “Primals. Nasty buggers. Nay ‘ave any respect fer somethin’ tha’ enslaves its followers.”

Aasifa: “The dirt? For now, yes.”

K’risa: “That’s not what they--. Nevermind. Um, I’m with Chad on this one. Fuck Ifrit and his followers.”

Benedict: “I am a lowly man in service to the Gods. No one is below me.”

Chance: “Cowards.”

Felix: “It’s better for all of your prides that I simply pass on this one.”

 What do you wish you had more time for?

Lloire: “Fishing.”

Beta: “Spending time with Ikara. I should make more time.”

Chadrick: “E’erything. There are nay enough ‘ours in tha’ day t’ get e’erythin accomplished.”

Aasifa: “Living, Aasifa is thinking, yes?”

K’risa: “To keep track of J’ahama and P’arunru and to just hang out with them.”

Benedict: “I would like to have more time devoted to do things Sunny enjoys doing. She gets bored with my reading and prayers and I would want to spend more time letting her have fun.”

Chance: “I’m kept busy enough. I’m good, thanks.”

Felix: “I have all the time in the world.”

 What are some skills that you think everyone should learn?

Lloire: “Sewing and cooking. You can get though a lot of things that way. People tend to be more agreeable on a full stomach. Knowing how to close a wound with a needle can save a life.”

Beta: “I… think you’re the only person that took up sewing to learn to apply it to flesh. I think everyone should know the basics of magitek operation. It’s not going anywhere guys, even if the Empire crumbles.”

Chadrick: “E’eryone should learn t’ play an instrument. Music can soothe tha savage beast as they say. Whether it’s an actual beast or yer beast within.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa is thinking everyone is needing to know how to defend selves, yes? Hmm, he is wondering how friend L’ania has been now.”

K’risa: “The brooding handsome over there already gave my answer, but for me, you never know when your clothes will catch a snag or rip and its way better to travel through Ishgard or the desert without torn clothing.”

Benedict: “Navigation! I am awful at it and would be lost without my guide. I really must offer Llymlaen more prayers.”

Chance: “Basic shit. How to light a fire without aether, pitch a tent, gather firewood, survival in the wilderness kind of things. Seen a lot of corpses out in the wild just dead to the elements.”

Felix: “Alchemy. You’d be surprised at what can be accomplished through it.”

 How good of a dancer are you?

Lloire: “Decent. Better when it’s a slow dance with a partner. I’m not terribly great at the solo dances unless they are more ritualistic or tribal in nature.”

Beta: “Yea, no. I’ve got two left feet. I’m really bad at dancing.”

Chadrick: “Step dance, slow dance, dance at a ball. Ye name it, Ah’ll manage it. Lu’ made sure o’ tha’.”

Aasifa: “Yes. Aasifa is thinking he can dance well.”

K’risa: “I haven’t had much chance to learn. -Someone- was still pouting about his ex and her dancing.”

Benedict: “I… do not dance. Sunny does though! She is very good at it.”

Chance: “Do I -look- like I dance?”

Felix: “No, not really wolf-boy, but neither does Lloire there, so... Myself? I was forced to learn eventually. Been a few dozen years since I’ve needed to though.”

 Do you have any good luck charms or rituals?

Lloire: “Aye, I have a Gagaroon luck-die that Soren gave me a while back. I never travel without the thing. I’m still alive despite my best efforts, so I imagine the thing works.”

Beta: “Yea, if that thing is to blame, we all could use one. Um, I have a lucky wrench? I guess that counts?”

Chadrick: “Psh! Me blood is lucky. An’ Ah’ve all tha charm Ah’ll e’er need.” *Laughs* “Jestin’ aside, nay Ah di’nay carry around any sort o’ lucky charms.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa has pendant that is for this purpose, yes? He is loaning to friend to keep safe.”

K’risa: “Nope. I’m all full up on luck and charms, thanks.”

Benedict: “Nymeia is favored by those who seek luck. Having her with me at all times should suffice.”

Chance: “Fools that trust to luck wind up dead.”

Felix: “You, mister wolf, are no fun. I have one of our companions old coins. He was the embodiment of luck.”

 Worst injury you have had?

Lloire: “Assuming we’re not going with self-inflicted, it would be the repeated beatings to my face that left me half blind.”

Beta: “Oh, not counting self-inflicted. That took out half of yours, huh? Um… I guess the small burn I got when that ceruleum tank caught fire?”

Chadrick: “Ah ‘ad this ‘ead injury, made me forget who Ah was fer a time.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa was stabbed through stomach once. Very painful! Yes.”

K’risa: “I’ve been lucky enough not to get hurt too bad yet.”

Benedict: “As have I.”

Chance: “Took an arrow to my heel once. That brought me down awhile.”

Felix: “Just one? I remember I took about fifteen or so once. Blood everywhere.”

 Who influenced your personality growing up?

Lloire: “My ma’ and Aliya later.”

Beta: “Um… Lucilus I suppose.”

Chadrick: “Lad, yer still growin’ up. Fer me it was definitely me ma an’ me da. Both in their own way.”

Aasifa: “The Commander of the Guard.”

K’risa: “My father.”

Benedict: “Halone largely, but also my aunt.”

Chance: “Myself.”

Felix: “Nettle’s family.”

 If you could remove one emotion from your life, which would you choose?

Lloire: “Guilt most likely.”

Beta: “I’d get rid of bitterness. I hate that feeling.”

Chadrick: “Nay a damned one. There’s too much o’ life in each. Ye get rid o’ sadness an’ ye lose sight o’ wha’ it means ‘ be ‘appy. Ye lose guilt per say, an’ wha’ is there t’ make ye learn t’ nay ‘urt others?”

Aasifa: “Fear. Aasifa would be fearless!”

K’risa: “Jealousy. It’s a nasty nasty emotion.”

Benedict: *turns a shade of red* “Desire.”

Chance: “I think that’s just call lust Benny. And oddball, fear is important, keeps you alive. I’m kinda with snowylocks. You need all of them to be effective.”

Felix: “No, no. I like Lloire’s answer for once. Guilt weighs too much.”

 Well, thank you for your answers. Will I see you all again next time?

Lloire: “Most likely.”

Beta: “Sure. It’s interesting to see what you come up with to ask us.”

Chadrick: “S’long as ye keep up our agreement, aye.”

Aasifa: “If the winds blow Aasifa this way.”

K’risa: “Why not?”

Benedict: “Twelve willing.”

Chance: “…”

Felix: “Perhaps. We’ll see.”

Tagged by: Uh, I made this one. So @me?

Tagging: @wicked-virtue @yutikyis @waitingrose @susukosuko @hedgearcher @hana-xiv @devil-you-know @nebula1984 and anyone I might have left off or forgotten.