#and obviously everyone was evacuated and police came to search the school

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

so when i was 16 and in the mids of 17 gcses because my school was insane, i had a minor fear of spiders and i got over the fear in a way that should be mundane but

i was a burning out gifted child studying for 17 gcses so my mental state wasnt exactly that of a functional person.

the only time i wasnt studying was when i was showering or sleeping. i took notes, textbooks and flashcards with me everywhere and i basically did nothing but study for many a month. like i would go to a family meal and ignore everyone as i drew and labelled diagrams of the heart, and practiced algebraic division. i did not take breaks besides showering and sleeping so like, not a recipe for a healthy mindset.

and one day, i got in the shower and there was a spider there. our shower is in the bath and theres tiles that go up like ¾ up the wall, making a little ledge for mr spider to stand on. i stood there and watched him for a minute before concluding i was safe to get in. mr spider didnt move when i got in nor when i turned on the shower so i assumed mr spider was dead.

and then my brain was like "hey, splash water at the dead spider" and i was like okay.

and mr spider moved away

which kinda whitescreened my brain. because on one hand, i had just assaulted a random spider for no reason which like delivery of a tornado of guilt, but on the other, mr spiders not dead?

(and tbh this is a good example of why 16 year old kids should not be doing 17 gcses because my mind was already racing towards necromancy and magic spiders)

it took me a bit to settle my brain into a mindset where i could think, and to do this, i verbally went through the public health acts and dates in the uk, as i stare at this innocent spider i assaulted. and thats when i noticed that the spider only had 7 legs which sent me down another spiral because i attacked an innocent disabled spider.

and now im a hyperempathetic person and it sucks. this isnt youtuber oh im so empathetic; this is like one night i couldnt sleep because i thought of the titanic and got attached to it and then i was crying because it must be so lonely down there. this is me learning about parallel lines in maths and crying because theyre destined to run alongside each other forever and they never get to meet and touch and not be alone.

so you can imagine how guilty 16 year old me felt about this; i genuinely felt like id committed a serious crime. and im crying because how do i make this better how do i right my wrongs woe is me why would i do this, etc.

my only solution was naming mr spider and cohabitating with him in the shower from now on. a feasible goal.

unfortunately at this point im still a year 11 burning out gifted child in the middle of gcses and the only name i could think of was richard the raker.

fun fact about richard the raker: he drowned in a cesspit in 1326.

fun fact about me: thats the only thing i know about richard the raker because i memorised it for my history of medicine exam.

so i named the spider richard the raker after a guy who drowned in his own faeces in 1326.

i went on to share the shower with richard until he died and as a result, my minor fear of spiders crumbled away. i now name every spider i see richard, and ive learned that explaining why i do that makes me seem more unhinged than if i dont.

tldr: when i was 16, i overcame my fear of spiders but assaulting a disabled spider for no reason and then naming the spider (and every spider since) after a guy who drowned in a cesspit in 1326.

i attribute my complete lack of fear of spiders to my nan giving every spider we saw a name and Lore when i was growing up. i can't be scared of henry. he just got laid off at the fly catching factory because he lost a leg in a confrontation with a door and his wife is pregnant

[mhafiction]

Req from @annonymousbread:

Here is an actual request if you’re okay with it ☺️

Maybe a story where katsu’s crush from class 1-A gets kidnapped and they don’t find her for over a year. Which by then class 1-A has graduated and all become pro hero’s.

Then Katsuki finally finds her on one of his missions?

Note: This is really becoming a Bakugo fanfic blog huh? I’m not complaining, he’s a very fun boy. -K.

“Bakugo!”

He remembered it. Your sobbing, the fear in your voice, your cries of pain. He saw the rubble, the overcast sky, every little thing rendered with terrifying accuracy. He looked down at his hands. Why was he back here? An uneasy feeling reveled in the pit of his stomach. You cry out again, your shouts solitary and panicked. Lighting courses through his veins, and without an ounce of hesitation, he takes off running. He had to find you.

His lungs burn as he navigates the field, his heart pounding in his head, eyes darting back and forth with frenzied panic as he scans the ruins. Y/N, where are you? The rubble morphs into a terrifying maze, and he feels a cold sweat drip down his back. Bakugo hears you call out his name again and again, and fears the worst, turning around-

There you were, standing in front of him with that faraway look in your eyes. Your eyes... those goddamn eyes haunted him ever since. He reached out to you, tried to call you name-

But you slipped right through his fingers. His throat was tight; nothing came out. And you just stared at him, unblinking, lips ever so slightly parted.

“Why Katsuki? Why couldn’t you have saved me?”

Your voice is accusatory, bitter, and so unlike everything that he knew about you... yet it felt so real.

Bakugo feels a dryness in his mouth as he shouts to you, his voice cracking. It was if a dam burst, and he sobs, sinking to his knees. “I tried!” He curses, watching you turn your back to him, and as he reaches out his hand to catch your wrist, he jolts awake.

Katsuki pants, heaving up and down. Sweat rolls down his forehead. It had felt way too real. He sighs, checking the clock. 4 am. Great. Should he even be surprised? He rises, pulling open his curtains and preparing for the day ahead, your face still fresh in his mind

Bakugo hadn’t gotten a good night’s rest since your disappearance, almost two years ago. Hell, he wondered how anyone from 1-A did. They had been there, too- that fateful day of the school festival, everyone riled up to celebrate the fact that it was their last one before graduation. And of course, something had to go wrong.

Your quirk was invaluable and insanely powerful: controlling probability. If you stockpiled enough energy, you could exert it to tip the scales to someone’s advantage, which could range from boosting the probability of rolling a six on a die...or boosting the probability of someone winning a fight. It worked better when more specific and focused, however.

You had gained a lot of attention from having such an interesting quirk, but some of it turned out to be pretty...bad. Including a plucky group of villains who had been able to capture you during the school festival. The brawl had moved to the city, after Bakugo sent one of the dudes careening into the side of a building with a skillful explosion. Pros urged him to evacuate, but he didn’t listen. He couldn’t have, not when you had been among the ones to save him when he had been kidnapped.

But you weren’t as lucky.

They got away with you. Bakugo remembered the look on your face as you were whisked away into thin air. Gone without a trace, slipped through his fingers.

The search was an ordeal that was significantly harder than his own. The group that had kidnapped you was pretty underground. This, in fact, was their first major crime.

So that left police with no leads, no identification, and no evidence whatsoever. The case went cold. Not a day went by when Bakugo didn’t think of you. His graduation had been somber, Class 1-A collectively on edge together for the rest of the year. Y/N, the promising rising star, so obviously on track to becoming a powerful hero— snuffed out just like that. There was rage, there were tears, there was silence. But now, they had to move on. They were adults, pro-heroes who needed to focus on bigger things. He growled. Yeah, right.

It was no secret among his peers that he liked you. After that incident, many pitied him and the way he kept his head down and his jaw clenched. They didn’t speak up when he lost his temper, they didn’t point out that he was easier to piss off than usual, and they didn’t try to stop him when he’d curse a disproportionate amount at some inanimate object that had wasn’t working right. They knew his pain. Despite him never opening up to anyone, they knew. Bakugo immersed himself in his ambition; training and fighting being the only “healthy” outlet he had. By the time he left UA, he was already in the top ten and slowly forming an agency. He kept an old bulletin board dedicated to your case, spending months trying to track you. Everyone considered him crazy for refusing to let go. But that never stopped him.

His phone rings, and he groans, seeing the contact. Nevertheless, he answers, forcefully brushing the phone against his ear.

“Deku?!”

“Ah! Kacchan, I need to ask for your help on a case.”

Bakugo rubs his temples, annoyed just at the sound of his childhood friend’s voice.

“Heh? Like I would help you, nerd!”

Deku’s voice takes on a graver tone, somewhat faltering. “I think you’d want to after you hear this guy’s MO.”

“Yeah right.”

“No, listen. You remember-“ Deku pauses a moment, hesitating as he chokes back his words. His voice is strained over the phone, betraying some sort of feeling that leaves Bakugo on edge. “You remember Y/N?” Deku continues.

Bakugo bites his lip, brow furrowed with anguish. Internally, he thanks whatever higher power there is that his old friend can’t see his face.

“How could I forget?” He mumbles.

“Well,” Deku breathes, his tone still solemn. “This guy- eyewitness reports say he vanishes into thin air. Literally. He’s been spotted all over the prefecture, mostly dealing in theft, but the most recent case they’ve linked him to is the kidnapping of a Shiketsu boy. Promising kid. The cases also match up with your research, too. I know it’s a stretch-“

Bakugo looks at the old bulletin board placed above his bed, bitter recollection filling his head. “I’m in.”

“Eh? You are?”

“Yes, you shitty nerd! Just brief me on the course of attack. Bastard won’t know what hit him.” He prays that Deku won’t catch on to the trembling intensity of his words. He didn’t need anyone else’s pity, much less Deku’s. What he needed was to find you.

“...You know it might not be him, right? And even if it is, there’s no guarantee...?”

Bakugo tenses, and the line is silent for a moment. His palms are suddenly heavy, weary with exhaustion. He sighs, frustration in a single breath.

“Goddamn it, I know that. But I have to try, Deku.” His voice cracks, shaky but firm. “I owe it to her.”

Deku is quiet. The air is thick—almost suffocating. And finally, he responds.

“Then, drop by my agency this evening. There’s a lot to cover.”

———————————————————————

“Peh. So this is the place.”

Bakugo looks up at the building. It was modest, but classy. Respectable,especially with its prime location. Not that he’d let Deku know.

He’s escorted into a conference room, eyeing the place up and down. His face contorts into dramatic anger when he locks eyes with none other than Todoroki Shouto.

“WHAT’S ICY-HOT DOING HERE?!”

Bakugo grabs Midoriya by the collar, his eye twitching and his fist poised. Deku starts sputtering like a dying fish, waving his hands around.

“Kacchan- he was interested in the mission, too! And it’s not like we can’t use his help-“

���YES WE CAN! WE DON’T NEED HIM!”

“But he might be useful! He’s a top ranking hero too, you know-“

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE’LL BE USEFUL!”

Bakugo reels back his arm, ready to blast Deku’s ass into the stratosphere. Todoroki appears behind him, cool as ever.

“Bakugo,” Shouto begins, gently setting a hand on his shoulder. “She was my friend, too.”

Bakugo pauses, his violent persona sufficiently diffused. He loosens his grip on Midoriya, casting Todoroki a wayward glare. Shouto returns it with his own determined eyes. “Tch. Whatever. Let’s get on with this.”

They settle into seats, Midoriya wheeling in a large whiteboard with meticulous notes dotted all over it.

“First and foremost, I guess I should start with the fact that we’ll also be joined by Uravity, Red Riot, and Froppy,” Midoriya begins, adjusting a projector.

“Do we really need that many people?”

“In all likelihood, no. But there’s a tip that this guy is linked to some bigger crime ring.” A map charting several misdemeanors flicks onto the board. “So, with backup, we’re better safe than sorry.”

Bakugo slumps in his chair. “What is this, a high school reunion?” He jeers.

Midoriya gives him a wry smile. “I guess you can look at it like that. Thanks to your intel, Kacchan, we were able to track down his ID. I went through some records down at the station, and the guy we’re going after apparently has some sort of molecular rearrangement quirk.”

Todoroki cocks his head. “Sort of like that Yakuza guy? Back with Eri?”

“Sort of. But the point is, it allows him to disappear covertly. Really covertly. He just needs to break down his body and his target to their smallest forms and he can manipulate and transport them without a trace. Disappearing into thin air.”

“That sounds awfully familiar,” Todoroki notes, giving Bakugo a quick glance. Bakugo snorts in response, recalling your disappearance. Thin air, huh?

Midoriya nods. “I have a hunch that...it’s the same guy. But, since there’s no guarantee, let’s not get our hopes up. Let’s just focus on prioritizing the rescue.” He turns his board over, revealing an even more intricate chart on the back. “Let’s go over a plan.”

———————————————————————

The fateful day arrived. Police encircled the building- some dingy joint on the bad side of town that looked like any other dive bar. Bakugo would lead the calvary alongside Kirishima and Todoroki, while Asui and Deku rounded off any potential exits. Uraraka watched from above, surveying the entire scene with bated breath.

Bakugo kicks down the door, poised to attack, and meets the faces of at least twenty other folks. One shouts above the ramble and suddenly all hell breaks loose. People are throwing bottles, attacking at Bakugo and each other- and he catches a glimpse of someone fleeing down a flight of stairs behind the bar.

He pursues, carving through the dense crowd with ease. He flies down the stairwell, greeting darkness almost immediately. Bakugo’s explosions flicker in his hands, casting orange shadows over his face in the dim hall. It’s narrow, and there’s only one way to go. There’s only one thing to do. He takes off running, panting heavily, gritting his teeth. This bastard- the nerve he had. To steal the futures of some promising kids.

The hall opens to a cavernous room, and Bakugo edges along the wall, silently inching forward. He catches a glimpse of a long shadow limping back and forth, pacing with nervous energy. Bakugo grins to himself, prepared to strike, and as the silhouette passes the opening of the hallway, he tackles them, restraints in hand. “DIE!” He sends an explosion to their backside. The villain lets out a sturdy cry of pain and immediately yields. Not that it mattered, the restraints wouldn’t permit the use of his quirk whatsoever.

Bakugo looks the guy up and down, hate filling his chest. He growls, “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?”

The man is silent, not even meeting Bakugo’s fiery eyes. Bakugo forces his head towards him, watching fear dance in his gaze. He sneers. “You’re just a coward,” he spits.

Kirishima’s footsteps patter through the hall, and the red-haired boy bursts into the room, stumbling upon the scene.

“Bakugo! That’s the guy!” Bakugo tosses the criminal to him, surveying the area. “Take care of it,” he mumbles in his raspy tone. “I’m looking for the victim.”

He approaches a nearby door- old and decrepit, like everything else in the place. With calculated force, he blasts it down, dread forming in the pit of his stomach. The room is dirty and neglected, like some kind of dungeon.

His eyes widen when he sees your face, hollow cheeks and empty eyes chained against the wall alongside a sobbing boy. Shock fills your sunken form, and you utter out his name, a wistful, raspy murmur.

“Katsuki...?”

Bakugo freezes, once again feeling a terrible weight in his chest. He wants to scream, he wants to go to you- but he’s rooted to the spot, disgusted at your treatment...and at himself. Police flood the little room, Midoriya shouting commands and comforting the boy, and everything’s in a haze. But throughout it all, he never tears his eyes from you, despite the clenching he feels in his heart.

You wake up in an unfamiliar hospital bed. The world seems different. Fresh, and new. A small smile forms on your face, and you giggle quietly to yourself, blinking in the gentle light. You examine the room. A clean, white place with a monitor beeping softly in the background. The hum of machines drone on, and to your right-

You gasp, surprised to see the sleeping face of none other than Bakugo Katsuki, slumped down in a chair. Your childhood crush, handsome as ever. Halos bounced off of the spikes of his hair where the light hit him, leaving him looking like some otherworldly beauty. You laugh to yourself, starting as a small chuckle at this moment- then dissolving into a deep, boisterous and emotional expression of mirth, one that caused tears to form at the corner of your eyes and made you choke over your own joy. It inadvertently woke your spiky-haired hero, who looked down at you, eyes wide and tired.

“Y/N.”

You lift your hand up to him, cupping his face. “Katsuki.”

His jaw clenches, and his eyes go glassy. As he speaks, you feel a sadness, deep and broken, in his heart, and his voice cracks.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry I couldn’t be faster. That I couldn’t save you-“ he chokes.

“I never lost hope in you.” Bakugo looks into your eyes, and your heart skips a beat with how vulnerable he looks. “I stockpiled energy with the hope that you’d rescue me,” you whisper, brushing away a tear from his face. “I trusted you’d be the one. Out of all of them at UA-“ you smile softly, recalling your high school years. “You were the one I thought of the most. And thinking of you...it gave me hope.” How far away it all seemed. Those days with your friends, training on the field, hoping to be a hero.

“I thought of you, too.” Bakugo grips your hand, as if afraid you’ll disappear again. You pull him into a hug, stroking his trembling form. It felt so good to be in his arms, almost dream like. “Katsuki, I have something to tell you, though,” you murmur. “I had quite the crush on you, back at UA,” you chuckle. He pulls back, still holding you. He brings a calloused hand to your face, drinking in your features. “I did, too,” he admits. You feel butterflies flutter in your stomach, and suddenly it’s as if you’re sixteen again.

“Do you think it’s still there?” You breathe.

He never takes his eyes from yours, and slowly moves in to press his forehead to yours.

“If you do.” You close the distance, placing a kiss on his lips. You drown in his familiar scent, sighing with contentment. Now, this felt like home. Bakugo moves back cautiously, his gentle demeanor and tone never shifting. He brushes a hair away from your face, ever so softly.

“God, you think we can make it work?” He mutters. “You deserve someone who could have saved you on the first try.”

Your brow creases watching Katsuki avert his gaze. You force him to turn his head to you, looking at you straight on. “We have the rest of our lives, Katsuki,” you tell him. “And don’t you dare think that you’ve failed me. You’re the one who tried the hardest. You’re the one who saved me.” Bakugo shrugs.

“I didn’t do it alone.”

You shake your head, beaming. “That’s not what I mean. Holding on to the idea that you’d come— that’s what saved me. I would have died, ages ago if I didn’t carry that hope with me. If I didn’t have that goal to save up my energy to help you find me.”

Bakugo softens beneath your touch, melting as you give him a couple of pecks. He grips your tiny hand in his, swearing that he’ll never let you go ever again.

[its-jwang2017]

Part 6: As G-Dragon Says: Why So Serious?

For the past couple of years, Dark Soul and Project J followed a pretty strict routine. Once every week (or every other if there was a school-related conflict), they would kidnap Jackson, wait until Red Dragon noticed, distract said hero while they prepared for their battle, and eventually duke it out in the city streets. Sometimes Red Dragon would win. Other times, the pair would ALMOST win. It was a pretty familiar routine at this point.

This started around Jinyoung’s freshman and JB’s sophomore year at JYP Prep. On the anniversary of JB’s mother's death exactly one week into the school year, Jinyoung had stumbled into their shared room to find JB crying on the floor as tiny zaps of lightning radiated from his body like Jaebeom was the epicenter of a cloudless thunderstorm. As Jaebeom’s sobs got worse, so too did the power of his lightning and it took all of Jinyoung’s coordination to avoid getting hit as he made his way over to Jaebeom in order to act as a supporting figure for the older to lean on. It was lucky for JB that Jinyoung was the one who found him, since who knows what would have happened to Jaebeom if a normal human saw what he could do. From then on, Jinyoung and JB became almost attached at the hip. Jinyoung had finally found someone who could relate to his sucky past experience with his superpowers while JB found someone who he could always trust to calm him down from his so-called “temper tantrums” (he knew he had some anger issues, but he had also been through hell too so it’s sort of a given). The two never spoke of JB’s loss of control ever again, but both made the silent promise to be more careful from them on…

Of course, we all know that that didn’t happen.

 It was actually Jinyoung who suggested the idea that the two of them should sneak off campus at night to practice honing their abilities. The younger had noticed that both of them had problems controlling their powers after long periods of disuse; things around Jinyoung would randomly (and very obviously) start to levitate while JB started “kill” every technological thing he touched in uncontrollable shocks (JB had to buy four new phones in a matter of weeks. The AT&T people never looked at him the same).

What started out as an innocent desire to “blow off steam” every once in a while turned near deadly when JB and Jinyoung accidentally blew up an undercover cop car. They thought they had found an abandoned, dusty Ford on the side of the road but (as they’d figured out soon enough) it turned out to be an agent’s car he had evacuated after it stalled and died on him. The cop had left the vehicle in order to call for help, but JB and Jinyoung didn’t know that when they proceeded to use the car as practice for turning devices on and off with just a snap. When the car’s wiring and JB’s electric shock intermingled, the sparks created caused a …  slight  explosion and the cop was not happy when he came back to see his car on fire and two suspicious hooded delinquents standing not too far off. 

What followed was pure self defense, in JB and Jinyoung’s opinions. The cop called for backup, JB and Jinyoung ran, and when they were corned in an alley by a bunch of cop cars and angry police pointing their weapons at them, they did what anybody else would do in their situation; they used their powers to respectively shock or throw cops and/or cars out of their way, dodged back from oncoming gunfire, and raced back to JYP Prep. 

When they looked at the news report that night, they saw that they were labeled as “unknown, powerful criminals who took out an entire squadron of CPD personnel” who would be “hunted down and brought to justice for the inhuman nature of their crimes.” This is when the two laid eyes on the figure who would become their archenemy for the next couple of years… Red Dragon. With an already equipped super suit, Red Dragon was able to step out from the shadows and announce his allegiance with the CPD to try to capture the two unknown individuals. Red Dragon had stepped onto the mantle as the hero of Chicago, a figurehead that people could feel safe knowing was out there to battle the unknown evils of the world.

While JB and Jinyoung couldn’t believe that there was ANOTHER person with unnatural abilities, they REALLY couldn’t believe that another superpowered mistake had cost them their relatively “good standing” with society… again. They never got the chance to proclaim their innocence and, while they were lucky their faces were never exposed to any police or cameras, they both knew they couldn’t suppress their powers for long until it got out of control again; that was how they got into the entire situation in the first place!

So they both resigned themselves to their new labels; Since Jinyoung was attending JYP as an engineering major, he was able to access the necessary materials and equipment that the two would need to begin their new supervillain lifestyle… And the rest was history.

Even though the villains ended up losing every time, they kept returning back to their lair and plotting the next way to take over the city. At first, it was because their pride screamed at them to demand a showdown, to show the city that they were a force to be reckoned with and that they were both more than all of the hurtful things they were labelled as. After the twelfth time losing, however, it became a habit that was almost… comforting to the pair. Yes, they’d end their day with bruises, sores and burn marks that would stick with them for weeks after. But fighting the hero provided them an outlet in which to fully utilize their given powers without shame. They never had to hold back with Red Dragon and after years of hiding their “gifts” from everyone else, even going so far as to lose their blood relatives due to their abnormalities, the hero provided a welcome outlet that they had been searching for to begin with. So even though they kept losing, it was an honest loss tinged with hope for self-improvement (something they both yearned for but will never admit) and a reluctant acceptance at their status in the good-evil hierarchy.

This time… this time was different though. This time, the steady balance between good and evil was shattered, the hierarchy of the world demolished and what was left in this new, unfamiliar environment was a sense of hopelessness and grief. Because the one person, the only person in fact, that stood in the way of Dark Soul and Project J’s (admittedly ridiculous) attempts to take over the city was dead. And the duo had no idea what to do next.

____________________________________________________________

A week ago:

“This is what we wanted.” Project J said, but his tone was anything but certain of his statement. The two were back on the main floor of their “lair”, sitting side by side on their old couch, both staring off into the distance with unfocused eyes. The break in routine was so alien to them that neither could come up with a solution, both still in full uniform as if waiting for the real battle to begin. But the fight was over. They would never again stand toe-to-toe against their archenemy. 

For the first time in a long time, their workshop was completely silent. The warehouse they were in was usually bustling with activity after a big battle; the monitors would display the confrontation from different angles with Dark Soul carefully watching the videos, taking notes to improve their techniques. Project J usually took this time to make any repairs on his bots, the sound of his music and welder breathing life into the workshop. Plans/blueprints for the next attack would be drawn up and placed at one of the many tables scattered around the room, with crumpled rejected ideas littering the area near the trash cans. The remaining working bots would do their best to keep the area tidy for the two men but they’d usually end up getting in the way. This almost always led to Project J chasing after a bot with a soldering iron, Jaebeom laughing in the background as his partner screamed threats and obscenities at the machine that somehow managed to destroy a new project which it’s sensors interpreted as “unknown item. Dispose immediately.” 

But there were no repairs to be made today. No videos to monitor, no future battle plans to be made, no improvements to work on, no bots that Project J needed to reboot. Because they won. They actually won.

With his last words getting no response from the other on the couch, Project J continued on, “We’re going to have to make an appearance in the city, you know. Technically, it’s ours now… we need to start enacting  our  vision and rules to make a society that reflects who we are.” 

Dark Soul slowly began to move, sitting up from his slouched position on the couch to lean forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Project J finally turned his gaze towards his friend, waiting and hoping the other would have an answer, a plan, even just a slight idea about their future. He would never tell the other, but Project J relied on Dark Soul for guidance and support, trusting that his best friend would come up with ideas that benefitted them both. Dark Soul was the unsaid leader of their dynamic duo, but at this moment the older looked more like a scared kid than his supervillainous alter-ego. 

Dark soul shifted and ran his hands up towards the back seam of his helmet, pressing the small disengage button on the headgear. He took it off of his head very slowly and let the helmet fall out of his hands and onto the floor beside him. Without the visor there to hide his face, Project J could see that Dark Soul looked even worse than what he imagined. He was almost sickly pale with a light sheen of dried sweat still clinging to his face. In the slumped position Dark Soul was in he looked more like a marionette doll whose strings had been cut than the strong, powerful man he once was.

“Alright… we’ll do that.” Dark Soul muttered, his voice gravelly from disuse. Project J jumped a bit, not really expecting an answer just yet. When he realized what the other said, his eyes widened in shock, unused to Dark Soul agreeing with him so quickly (or agreeing with him in general). Slowly, Project J reached out a hand to rest lightly on Dark Soul’s back in an effort to provide some sort of comfort to the obviously emotionally distressed man. He could feel the slight static electricity radiating off of the other in waves, causing his hair to stand up slightly. A shock caused Project J to jump and he quickly retracted his arm, wincing at the pain while shaking his hand slightly. 

“Don’t touch me, Jinyoung… not now…” Jaebum mumbled darkly, hands still hanging loosely at his sides as he curled into his legs, his hair hanging strategically in front of his face as if hiding his emotions from Jinyoung. Jinyoung scooted away, letting his friend have his space (and saving himself from the tiny sparks jumping off of JB’s body). The only other time Jinyoung saw his friend this… hopeless… was the anniversary of his mother’s death, and even then Jaebeom was more expressive than he was now. In all honesty, Jinyoung wasn’t quite sure what to do with this new side of Jaebeom and he hoped that, at the very least, Jaebeom would eventually snap out of his stupor.

While Jinyoung couldn’t fix the problem with Jabeom at the moment, the telepath decided to start to resolve the situation at hand. He couldn’t do anything for Jaebeom then, but he could start moving forwards to tackle their current situation. If Jaebeom needed him to take control now and steer them both through the mess that they made, Jinyoung would bear the responsibility. It was the least he could do to pay back all of the times JB had helped him. So, with one final glance at JB, Jinyoung hefted himself up off of the couch and began planning their official take over. 

This is gonna be a lot of work … 

________________________________________________________________

Present: Friday 7pm

Jinyoung and JB were back in their dorms, their lair shut down and closed off as the two tried to return back to their normal student lives at JYP Prep while also simultaneously running an entire city from their dorm room. For the past week, Jinyoung had taken over the government proceedings and had made their presence known to the best of his ability. He had put up walls of bots around the city limits to prevent people from going in or out and had other drones flying around to monitor and enforce their rulings. Jinyoung put the entire city on lockdown in an effort to keep people safely inside their homes as he tried his best to figure out  how the hell the movies made hostile takeovers look so easy?!?  The villain knew that he was epically failing at maintaining order within the community. He could see through his bots that people were scared and that things were rapidly dissolving into pure chaos but he  didn’t know how to stop it!  And the person who was supposed to be his co-leader, the one who was supposed to be  helping him make all of these important decisions, was emotionally MIA. 

Jaebum had not moved from the bed for the past week. No matter what Jinyoung did or said, JB had refused to acknowledge the other’s presence. The only time he sat up was when Jinyoung brought him food and water to eat, and even then JB moved mechanically and laid down again right after. It was as if JB had lost all of his purpose in life and there was nothing Jinyoung could do to pull him out of his funk. 

Now Jinyoung could be an understanding, caring person. He wasn’t referred to as a “mom” for no reason. But even his kindness had its limits and he was just about ready to tear his hair out in frustration for the lack of support/help he had received from his supposed best friend. Was that selfish? Maybe. He knew JB was depressed and that no amount of love or care Jinyoung could provide would magically fix that. But he was also just trying to run a damn city and he desperately needed help; help that he could (unfortunately) only get from the sad lump underneath the covers of JB’s bed. 

Jinyoung sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his black hoodie off of his face. He hadn’t had a chance to shower or even change his clothes in the past couple of days, too busy taking care of JB and  an entire city  to even press pause for one second. His responsibilities to Chicago required constant attention and the only breaks he got he had to use to force JB to act like a basic human being. The red sweatpants and plain black hoodie he was currently wearing were basically a second skin at that point and his back and fingers ached from being hunched over his three monitors 24/7. One monitor kept flicking between different bots’ cameras so Jinyoung could keep track of Chicago and it’s happenings occurring anywhere in the city. The second was equipped with an AI that was coded to act as a “big brother'' of sorts; the AI would pull up any civilian-made search, text or call and comb through personal data to flag anything that seemed suspicious or threatening, which was really helpful for Jinyoung since he couldn’t be everywhere at once (It also was amusing to spy on his friends. He didn’t realize Yugyeom had THAT many pictures of a certain someone. He’d have to ask about Jackgyeom’s relationship again at a later date). The final monitor was solely used to keep track of and write the bots’ various codes to act as enforcers of the villain’s regime. All of this information gave him a headache, but even so he did his best to keep up with the constant influx of data. 

As he leaned back, hoping to take a quick nap-break, a sudden red emergency signal flashed on both his first and second monitor. Startled, Jinyoung quickly shook off his tiredness and pulled himself back towards the screens to see what his AI had found so alarming. A video played on the first screen while a voice message, sent only seconds ago, was highlighted on the other.

At first glance, Jinyoung thought that there was a glitch in one of his bot’s codes. It almost looked like a video of the time Jaebeom tried to use the first prototype of their shared escape hatch (it launched JB out of the room and almost broke his neck. Jinyoung still laughs when he watches JB’s look of utter terror as he sails through the air. It makes for good blackmail material when Jinyoung REALLY wants JB to do something for him).

However, upon closer inspection Jinyoung can see that the person in the video was decidedly NOT Jaebeom but Jaebeom’s crush, Jackson Wang. Who was outside. At night. During one of the most dangerous eras of Chicago’s history. After watching the other pound against the wall of their dorm, Jinyoung quickly rewinded the video to figure out how Jackson got into the situation in the first place and how he knew about the escape hatch.

After watching the (albeit hilarious) video of Jackson’s closet mishap, Jinyoung breathed a bit easier.  He looks like a scene from ‘America’s Funniest Home Videos’. At least Princess Wang doesn’t actually know why the escape hatch is there... 

When he went back to the real-time feed, however, his anxiety flared back up as the camera showed a very distinct lack of one Jackson Wang. Quickly shuffling through the rest of the camera’s stationed along the perimeter of the dorm, Jinyoung could feel his desperation rising as each feed failed to procure Jackson’s figure. 

“AI Lee, find me the last known sighting of Jackson!” Jinyoung whisper-yelled, rolling up his hoodie sleeves in preparation for his computer search, his heart-rate spiking as he did his best to remain calm.  Please, let Jaebeom stay a caterpillar for a little longer… Oh god, if Jaebeom finds out about this…!

As “Lee” worked through the camera feeds from the dorm over the last couple of minutes, Jinyoung crossed his fingers and hoped that Jackson had accidentally fallen into the water or something. While the fencer was rarely ever uncoordinated, the times when he was were hilarious tales to be recounted to anyone who would listen. It wouldn’t be the first time Jackson had fallen over the pier.   At least I could get him out and back to safety easily!

Jinyoung was proven to be oh-so-very wrong when his AI brought up the data log from 2 minutes ago that silently showed Jackson walking along the grass outside the dorms. Jinyoung watched helplessly as a masked figure raced up behind the oblivious screen-Jackson and football tackled the other. The culprit definitely outweighed the athlete and easily restrained the fencer by forcing Jackson’s hands behind his back. Jinyoung watched as Jackson struggled underneath his attacker, feeling sick as he watched two more individuals emerge from the shadows and congregate around the downed junior. One of them pulled a bandana out of his pocket and shoved it into Jackson’s screaming mouth while the other handcuffed Jackson’s wrists together.  An ex-cop, perhaps?

The feed ended with the tackler easily picking Jackson up and slinging him over his shoulder. The burly guy held Jackson’s legs down and Jinyoung felt numbness take over as he watched the four disappear back into the night. Jinyoung stared at the screen in shock. Faintly, he sees the second monitor demanding his attention with the pulled-up voicemail blinking urgently. Jinyoung feels his hand moving the cursor to the play button, forgetting that the audio was active unlike the camera feeds. 

A muffled voice plays through his speakers and Jinyoung lets the sound wash over him. “Boss, you’ll never believe who I found! Me and the guys were just walking around the JYP dorms to try and scare some of those rich kids… when suddenly Jacob spots Red Dragon’s old flame! We’ve got that Wang kid! Maybe we can use him to ally with Project J or Dark Soul… I bet they’ll want him back after he escaped from them during their last battle! Either way, we’ve got an ace in the hole now! We’ll be back at base soon ( Jesus, Jacob! Get a hold of Jackson or get James to knock him out, he’s fighting like crazy!)  Uh… yeah. Ok I got to go, the hostage is being uncooperative. We won’t hurt him too much  (James, do something!)  OKGOTTOGOBYE!”

The dial tone filled the small room as Jinyoung tried to process the information he was a witness to. He was so caught up in his monitors that he didn’t even notice the once lifeless lump on the bed slowly sit up. He didn’t see nor hear the covers get flung off of the bed as his best friend  voluntarily got up from his self-imposed shutdown. Jinyoung was so focused on coding one of his bots to find Jackson that he didn’t feel Jaebeom’s silent presence behind his swivel chair. What Jinyoung did feel, however, was his hair standing on end as static suddenly filled the atmosphere around him. Jinyoung barely had time to realize what that meant before his seat was suddenly jerked around, causing him to let out a tiny yelp of surprise. The surprise soon turned into palpable fear as the cause of his sudden change caged him against the chair. Jinyoung stared into the furious eyes of his best friend for the first time in a week and he didn’t know if the furious look on Jaebeom’s face was better than the emotionless mask the other had been wearing in recent days. As tiny lightning sparks danced along the outside of JB’s plain grey hoodie, sometimes shocking parts of Jinyoung’s exposed forearms, Jinyoung decided that maybe it would’ve been better if JB had stayed emotionless instead.

JB was dressed in only his favorite hoodie and a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers that he had been solely wearing for the past week. In any other case, Jinyoung would have laughed at JB’s snaggly hair and grungy appearance. But this wasn’t any other Friday and this wasn’t Jinyoung’s normal Jaebeom.  Jaebeom rarely got angry at Jinyoung and Jinyoung would have been happy to spend the rest of his life not knowing what the full force of JB’s anger felt like. 

I guess today really isn’t my lucky day , Jinyoung thought as he cowered, tucking his arms into his chest and pulling his knees under the chair in an effort to shrink down as much as possible. Logically, he knew that his superstrength would be able to easily throw JB off of him. But he ALSO knew that enraging JB any more would be bad for everybody as the other looked about one second away from exploding.  JB’s body caged Jinyoung in, with his hands braced against the armrests and his torso blocking any escape attempts. Jaebeom’s head was still covered by his hoodie and as he lowered his head to get close to Jinyoung, Jinyoung wished that the hood didn’t make JB look so intimidating. 

Laughing awkwardly, Jinyoung valiantly tried to defuse the rising tension. “Sooooooooo… How have you been and how much did you hear?” 

Jinyoung had hoped that JB had not heard as much as he thought, but his hopes were soon demolished as JB  growled  at Jinyoung:

“Tell. Me. What. Happened.” 

Jaebeom’s voice was hoarse from disuse, but that didn’t make his command any less powerful. Quickly, Jinyoung told the other everything he knew, his voice rising an octave every time JB furrowed his eyebrows and glared at him (he wished his voice didn’t go as high as it did at that moment, but yours would have too if you were faced with an angry JB!). When he was finally done with retelling everything that had transpired to Jackson, JB’s angry chin was jutting out in full force. Usually, Jinyoung would rib him a bit about his telltale sign of dissatisfaction, but Jinyoung valued his life a lot, so he kept his mouth shut and waited for JB to make his next move.

After keeping Jinyoung hostage for another moment, JB finally shoved Jinyoung’s chair back towards his monitor’s and marched away. Jinyoung was jolted from the force of the push, but he quickly tampered down his fear and got to his feet to face JB's turned back. He watched silently as JB stalked over to his closet and roughly shed his grey hoodie, almost tearing the fabric with his desire to take off the offending item. JB rummaged around his closet for only a second before grabbing an Adidas black tracksuit, shoving his limbs into the clothing items and heading towards the door. Right as JB’s hand touched the doorknob, Jinyoung made a split second decision and quickly outstretched his right hand in JB’s direction. 

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Jaebeom really had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea what day it was or how long it had been since he had… killed defeated Red Dragon. The past couple of days were all a blur in his mind but in the last couple of minutes, one thing became clear: Jackson was in trouble and JB had to do something about it. Jaebeom had hoped that the one upside (if you could even call it that) of Red Dragon’s death would be that Jackson could finally be free from all of the pain that the villains had brought upon him. But after his brain clocked itself back in during the thug’s voicemail, after he heard that Jackson was still in trouble and that  it was still his fault…  Jaebeom couldn’t control himself.  He felt a bit bad that his first real interaction with Jinyoung since they took over the city was him scaring the life out of the other, but Jabeom could only feel a newfound purpose driving him forwards; he had to find Jackson and he had to do it fast before anything else could happen to him. 

He was just about to race out the door after changing out of his (frankly, disgusting) clothes when he felt an inanimate power stopping him in his tracks just as he was about to turn the doorknob. A harsh tug on his left ankle knocked him to the ground on his stomach and he clawed against the floor as he was dragged backwards by his leg, getting tangled up in the comforter and clothes he had discarded on the floor earlier. When the dragging finally ceased, Jaebeom thrashed around in an effort to detangle himself from the various garments and, once freed, quickly stood up and spun around, breathing heavily as white-hot fury boiled up within him. Jinyoung’s hands were clenched at his sides and Jaebeom could see the conflicting feelings dancing behind the other’s eyes, but he was too consumed by the thought of “Jackson in Danger” to think straight.

“What the hell, Jinyoung?! Let me go!” Jaebeom shouted angrily, giving his friend a heated glare that threatened retribution if Jinyoung tried anything again.

“Jaebeom, you know I can’t. You’re too close to the situation… just let me handle it.” Jinyoung spoke calmly and evenly, his posture stiff but defiant. What betrayed Jinyoung’s level-headed exterior was the slight tremor Jaebeom saw in Jinyoung’s hands. 

JB just scoffed and turned around again, “I’ve made my decision. I’m going after him!” He stormed away but he felt Jinyoung’s power stop his feet, preventing him from taking another step. 

Slowly, Jaebeom turned around and stared at Jinyoung’s outstretched hand. His eyes slowly trailed up Jinyoung’s arm and settled on the determined face of his comrade.The tremor was defined in Jinyoung’s fingers, yet his stare remained unwavering. “Jaebeom, please don’t make me do this. You know you can’t just waltz outside and display your powers without your suit. Not only will you expose yourself as Dark Soul but you’ll take me down with you! Just let me handle it, you’re still not in your right mind… please…” Jinyoung’s voice was hard but faltered slightly at the end, “ Don’t make me fight you… I need you to think this through… please, I need your help too...” 

Jaebeom saw Jinyoung’s shoulders slump at the end of his plea and in his heart, he knew that the other was just as tired and worn out as he was. Jinyoung rarely let his walls down but during the times he had, Jaebeom always felt a tiny bubble of pride in his chest at the amount of trust and respect Jinyoung felt towards him. Jinyoung was his first real friend and they had taken care of each other countless times during the past years. Usually, Jinyoung was Jaebeom’s voice of reason, the physical embodiment of Jaebeom’s subconscious. However, Jaebeom was unable to feel guilt as he charged his hands and raised his fists up to his face in as much of a fighting stance as he could with Jinyoung’s hold over his feet staying strong. 

“Don’t make me fight you either, Jinyoung-ah. Now let me go.”

The blue glow from his clenched fists further emphasized the look of pure betrayal on Jinyoung’s face before he collected himself and brought the walls back up, a mask of indifference pinned in place. Jaebeom felt the hold on his feet lift as Jinyoung dropped his hand. “Fine. I see you won’t let me change your mind. At least take a face mask with you so nobody knows it’s you. I’ll send you the coordinates when my bot finds Jackson.” 

Jaebeom watched as Jinyoung turned his back on him and shuffled back towards his rolling chair, collapsing onto it and stationing himself back on the monitors. Jinyoung opened one of the drawers on his left and tossed a clean, black face-mask at the older. Jaebeom let the power fade away back into himself as he caught the mask right before it hit his face. Quickly stuffing the material into his pocket, the older started for the door again as Jinyoung began coding commands back at the monitors. As Jaebeom opened the door and stepped through the threshold, he turned around one last time and studied Jinyoung’s face as it was lit up by the computer screens in front of him. He opened his mouth in an effort to say… something that would explain why he had to go. But nothing ever came. Eventually, he forced himself to look away and silently shut the door, racing off towards the escape hatch to go and find Jackson. He knew he would have a lot of apologizing to do over the upcoming days to get back into Jinyoung’s good graces, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind as he mentally prepared himself for the inevitable fight he was voluntarily running towards… 

Wow.... two updates within the week? Crazy... So remember how I said I actually had a lot of extra tidbits written but had to keep starting over and you know... writer's block? Well, the first half of this I wrote, like, six months ago but I hated it at the time and wrote three other possible paths that this story could have taken. But the other things I wrote I also hated and were a bit too angsty so I gave up. Thank god I kept the OG transcript cuz I went back through everything I wrote and realized "wait... this is actually ok" and then did my best to fix it up and TAH-DAH! Wrote all of this...

Apologies if there are any errors. Whenever I try to post on tumblr it gets rid of all of the italicized words and other commands for whatever reason.

I probably should've waited to post but now I'm back on the (Jackson + damsel in distress) storyline and I'm excited OK?! We're heading towards JACKBEOM TERRITORY Y'ALL!! Finally, am I right... Anyways like comment and subscribe or whatever the kids do nowadays

[timeagainreviews]

Sifting through the Dregs

For series twelve of Doctor Who, I have opted to take a casual approach. I've avoided spoilers as much as possible. Although I caught the trailers, and the odd press photo, I've managed to stay away from things as simple as episode descriptions, writers, or even episode titles. I want to come into each story with as little expectation as possible. This is so that I might avoid hype, both of the negative and positive varieties. So when I read the words "Part One," after "Spyfall," it was genuinely a surprise. And when I read the words "Orphan 55 by Ed Hime," I was suddenly very hopeful.

If you remember from series eleven, I was a big fan of Ed Hime's episode "It Takes You Away." I praised its brazen absurdity, likening it to something Douglas Adams may have done. The episode is rather divisive in the fandom, as some might call it one of the worst episodes ever. Obviously, I disagree. Ed Hime stands out to me as exactly the kind of writer Doctor Who needs. Someone with a bit of a taste for the absurd, while still managing to capture human moments. Ironic then, that despite my best efforts to approach the episode without expectation, the hype I would most contest with would be my own. Does "Orphan 55," live up to my expectations? Let's get into it!

As I said, Ed Hime lends a sort of mad weirdness to Doctor Who that I feel a certain section of writers possess. Think your Lawrence Mileses, your James Gosses, or even the occasional Steven Moffat. These are writers, who for better or worse understand one thing about Doctor Who- it's weird. Strangely, one of the common most aspects ignored by Doctor Who writers is the absurdity. A blue police box wrapped around an impossible machine, piloted by an ancient trickster somehow becomes mundane. Doctor Who's weirdness is an integral element that has been around since its inception. That's why when the gang gets teleported by a contest cube Graham has assembled, and the first person we meet is a furry, I feel we're already onto a good start. Especially when they just finished cleaning up the biggest calamari ever from the TARDIS floor. (Anyone else think of the Nestine Consciousness?)

Characters like "Hyphen with a 3" or "Hyph3n," remind me of some of the '80s era's odder characters. I could easily see her and her tail living in "Paradise Towers," or perhaps riding a bus in "Delta and the Bannermen." But another reason I love her is that she's not just a furry, it's part of her identity. You don't get the idea that she's an outlier like real-life Trekkie, Barbara Adams, who famously wore her Star Trek uniform to jury duty and her place of work. Instead, you get the feeling that in the future, people respect identities. To use Star Trek again, I remember watching an episode of "Star Trek: Enterprise," where the character Trip has a crisis over whether or not a girl "was a man." When you compare this to the dialogue we're having about transgender rights in 2020, you're automatically reminded that Enterprise came out in 2001. By today's standards, furries are still seeking acceptance. Seeing Hyp3n in a partial fursuit may seem absurd now, but in its own way, it's futuristic. How very Doctor Who.

Things in this future, however, aren't all progressive acceptance of our fine furry friends, there seems to be trouble in paradise. As I said, the gang is greeted by Hyp3n, a sort of porter for a relaxation destination called "Tranquility Spa." The companions immediately take to the spirit of things, as they settle in for a bit of rest and relaxation. The Doctor, of course, starts snooping around. Meanwhile, a security team of two, Kane and Vorm are responding to "another security breach." Whatever it is requires machine guns, which seems like quite a lot. And if you're like me you'll spend the next half hour trying to figure out where you've seen Kane before. I'll help you out- it was Lydia from Breaking Bad. You're welcome. I just saved you a trip to IMDb.

The next scene introduces us to a concept that will run strong within this episode- Yaz as a gooseberry. We see a couple of pensioners, Benni and Vilma, enjoying their spa getaway. Just as Benni is about to ask Vilma to marry him, Yaz stands right between them. I mean, I know the pool is for everyone, but read the vibe, Yaz. Jeez. Meanwhile, Ryan is checking out the interior of Tranquility Spa. The bar looks like the kind of place art vampires go to get lemongrass enemas. It reminded me a lot of "The Leisure Hive," with a budget, or even a more modern twist on the Centre of Leisure from "Time and the Rani. So much of this episode reminded me of classic Doctor Who.

Ryan notices a vending machine, but as he's retrieving his food is infected by a hopper virus. The Doctor explains the virus is capable of jumping from computers to humans. After expelling it from his system, the Doctor bags it to take to whoever is in charge. While Ryan is sucking his thumb to reduce the hallucinogenic side effects of the virus, he sees a cutie in a similar situation, a young woman by the name of Belle. It's pretty obvious at this point that Belle is to be a sort of romantic interest for Ryan, and who can blame him? She lives up to her namesake!

Everyone is rounded up for a "tranquillity drill," to a safe location while Kane and Vorm run through the lobby with their guns in tow. As with most companions, travelling with the Doctor embeds a deeper curiosity. Much like the Doctor would, Ryan questions what type of drill requires guns. This question entices Belle to follow him as they investigate. I really liked this pairing of the two of them as their chemistry was natural, despite Ryan's repeated failures at chatting her up. It only added to their charm.

The Doctor confronts Hyp3n who seems just about as confused and nervous as many of the guests. Whatever she's hiding is only because she's been instructed to by her superiors. Considering the hopper virus and drill, the Doctor deduces that the spa is under attack, and demands to know what they're hiding. Who would want to harm a spa? The spa has been using an ionic membrane to keep out unwanted visitors, visitors which appear to have breached the membrane. Now under a full-on attack by a group of monstrous beings, guests become casualties. Not only is the base under attack, but the viruses have also handicapped the systems, disabling the emergency teleportation devices. With everyone trapped the Doctor has to work fast to stop the killing, as well as survive.

Graham finds a pair of green haired servicemen in the form of Nevi and his son Sylas. Their entire character design once again had me thinking of classic Doctor Who characters such as the Swampies from "The Power of Kroll," or the Karfelon androids from "Timelash." I liked wondering if they were a kind of species that has naturally green hair, or if they had father/son hair dying nights. In this brief interaction, you learn that Sylas is the better mechanic between the two of them, but that Nevi does a bad job of acknowledging this. Graham gathers them and others to evacuate while Ryan and Belle hideaway in a sauna of sorts. While there, they confide in each other that neither of them is nearly as impressive as they initially led on, and the truth strengthens their bond.

Sadly, as Graham is rounding people up, Benni gets separated after backtracking to pick up Vilma's hat. As life signs extinguish across a computer screen, highlighting the trail of carnage, the Doctor finds a way to push back the onslaught. By repairing the ionic membrane, the creatures, known as Dregs, are physically pushed out of the spa by a force field. The crisis averted, the survivors search for the bodies of their loved ones. Much to Graham's relief, Ryan and Belle have both narrowly avoided the claws and teeth of an angry Dreg. Benni, however, is nowhere to be found.

After discovering a hole, which looks like a tear in reality, our heroes discover that Tranquility Spa is actually an illusion. A dome separates the spa from a hostile planet far too polluted to inhabit. This abandoned, or "orphan," planet is designated "Orphan 55." This is the reason guests are teleported to the spa- to cover up its seedy location. However, it would appear that whatever the Dregs are, they seem to be apex predators, able to survive the hostile environment of Orphan 55. And they want the spa and its inhabitants gone.

The Doctor makes Kane drive them out into the wasteland to find Benni, as his oxygen tank would allow him to survive outside of the dome for some time. It was a thin chance, but it might be enough to save at least one person among the carnage. I was really hoping for some silly "Moonbase," style helmets, but instead, we got these minimalist blue breath right strips across the bridge of the nose that linked to small wrist canisters as supplied by Nevi and Sylas.

The trip out onto the surface reminded me a lot of the great Russell T Davies episode "Midnight." And much like Midnight, the confined space of a vehicle traversing harsh conditions offers plenty opportunity to explore the people within. Remember how I said Yaz is a gooseberry? She wastes no time getting right between Ryan and Belle. I honestly can't tell what's going on between Yaz and Ryan at the moment. Last season, there was a bit of a "Will they or won't they?" vibe between them. But series twelve seems less interested in coupling them off. First, we had the Master and Yaz getting weirdly touchy-feely, which surprisingly never comes up again. And now we've got Yaz teasing Ryan in front of Belle like a jealous school girl. We learn that along with sucking their thumbs, Ryan and Belle also share having a dead parent in common, so that's something.

The vehicle picks up a bit of barbed wiring leaving it, as the Doctor put it- completely knackered. Keeping with the Midnight vibe, the surface of the planet is too dangerous due to monsters and killer sunlight. Afraid for her own self-interest, Kane wants to abandon the search mission, but a pleading Vilma begs her to continue looking for Benni. After callously accepting Vilma's necklace as payment, Kane agrees to continue with the rescue mission.  The crew abandon their vehicle and run for the safety of an underground service tunnel, but Dregs attack from every direction causing them to return to the safety of the vehicle. But that safety won't last long.

It's then that they hear Benni calling for Vilma. He asks her to marry him and then asks them to shoot him as well. It's a morbid moment as you realise the only reason the Dregs have kept Benni alive is to taunt the survivors and prolong his suffering. I don't really understand what the point of having them run back into the vehicle actually was. They basically run back out a moment later with the new plan of Kane and Vorm covering with gunfire. I don't understand why it was so important that they leave one location just to return moments later.

As Kane and Vorm blast Dregs, the rest of the crew run to the safety of the service tunnel. In the scuffle, Vorm dies, but Kane catches up just in time to open the tunnel. The entrance to this tunnel had me thinking of the opening of "Mighty Morphin Power Rangers." I kept waiting for Rita Repulsa to pop out and say "Ah! After 10,000 years I'm free! It's time to conquer Earth!" They make it down into the tunnel where there is a short-range teleporter nearby. Vilma asks Kane if she saw what happened to Benni, and Kane coldly tells her not to worry, that she shot Benni as he requested. It's at this time that Belle steals Kane's gun. She reveals that Kane is her mother and that she's here for revenge for abandoning her and her father. Belle teleports back to the spa taking Ryan with her. Seeing as the teleporter only had enough juice for one go, the rest of the crew must go deeper into the tunnel to find their way back.

Back at the spa, Belle reveals a huge bomb she plans to use to blow up the spa. Poor Ryan, he just met this girl and already he's dealing with her baggage with her mum. I kid, but damn girl, take a guy to a movie first. It's lucky for the Doctor that this adventure isn't actually from the '80s. Had it been Ace in this position, she would have seen the bomb and said "Wicked!" while offering up Nitro 9 to add to the destruction. Instead, Ryan pleads with her not to blow up the spa, dooming everyone involved.

Meanwhile, the Doctor and crew discover a plaque written in Russian, cluing them in to the fact that not only is the planet abandoned, but it was also abandoned by humanity. Orphan 55 is in fact, Earth. This revelation hits Graham and Yaz hard, as they never imagined the fate of the world to be so ugly. Their grieving is cut short by the appearance of Dregs, who Vilma bravely sacrifices herself to, to save the others. The Doctor, at this time also appears to be running out of air. It appears that the ability to be the loudest talker isn't always helpful when oxygen preservation is to be considered.

The sole reason for her running out of oxygen serves only to discover the Dregs breathe out oxygen. She discovers this when she finds a Dreg conveniently hibernating within the tunnel. Why this is important is that it gives a bit of insight into the Dregs' motivation. Kane's big plan was to make a spa that slowly terraforms the planet, which would harm the Dregs. It also explains the trees seen on the surface of the planet. That or these trees are also apex predators able to adapt to anything. Using her Time Lord brain magic, the Doctor looks into the mind of the Dregs and affirms what she feared most- they evolved from humans.

Everyone has now made their way back to the spa. The Dregs are closing in and they need to fix the teleporter. We're treated to a series of people once again leaving and returning to the same location for the sake of upping the tension. Kane appears to sacrifice herself and Sylas gets in an argument with Nevi once more over being told he's not a mechanic causing him to run away. But both of them are ok, as they both return unscathed. Yaz and Ryan wheel Belle's bomb to try and take out a few of the baddies. It's kind of a clusterfuck if I am honest. Lots of characters get taken in and out of scenes merely to pad time and add to the tension. It's not egregious but could have been edited better.

Sylas appears just in time with a solution to use the hopper virus to convert fuel for the teleporter. I was happy they brought the virus back, even if they don’t make a whole lot of sense. Were the Dregs weaponising the hopper virus? Were the viruses remnants of human civilisation? Regardless, I’m glad they brought it back. Sadly, this entire end sequence acts as evidence that perhaps there are too many companions in the TARDIS at the moment. Graham's job is to stand over Nevi and Sylus saying things like "That's right lads!" Yaz and Ryan are basically running around doing busywork, while the Doctor and Belle are having a stand-off with a Dreg. The Doctor manages to equalise the air in the room so that it is mutually beneficial to keep her and Belle alive. What the Dreg breathes out, they breathe in, and vice versa. This stalemate allows them the ability to leave. With the teleports up and running, the Doctor and her crew are transported back aboard the TARDIS, but not before Belle steals a kiss from Ryan. Are she and her mother going to be okay? We're left to wonder.

The victory celebration is short-lived as the companions remember the fate of the earth. Now, I need to preface what I'm about to say with the following- I fully believe climate change is a thing. I say this because we need to talk about how Doctor Who handles the subject. I've seen a lot of people (see: morons) complain about when Doctor Who gets "too political." They seem to think anything they don't like is political. The Doctor being a woman is political to them. But as I said with episodes like "Rosa," and "Demons of the Punjab," it's not that Doctor Who shouldn't be political, it's that it's simply not very good at it.

I can appreciate that the message of climate change is a real and pressing matter, but the cautionary edutainment way in which they present the information was so cringe. It felt so unnatural and tacked on. In their desire to address the audience directly, they lose a level of reality that makes the dialogue seem fake. These scenes always feel badly acted to me, but it's the fault of the dialogue. There's no good way to break the fourth wall without also sacrificing the characters' voices. It's like one of those adverts where you have two people talking far too candidly about something like their period flow, or constipation. It's a way to disseminate information about a product or ideology, but don't mistake it for dialogue. Nobody talks like this.

All in all, this was your standard "base in peril," episode. While not as transcendent as "It Takes You Away," I believe Ed Hime has given us another solid episode of Doctor Who. It's hard for me to tell if Hime's ability to write action was wanting, or if it is simply the fault of the director, but it definitely suffers at points due to the janky pacing. Pacing has really been an odd sticking point for series 12, and I hope they work it out. Even still, I was hoping that after the two-parter of "Spyfall," we would get something a little more grounded. Having this odd little contained storyline with little homages to classic Who is actually more than I had hoped for. It also gave us a new character in Belle, whom I expect to see return eventually. And despite the heavy-handed and unnatural way in which they dealt with climate change, I understand that it's a family show. In keeping with classic Who, it aimed to be educational, and for that, I cannot fault it.

[fragiledewdrop]

High school Newspaper Shenanigans

I don't have a lot of good memories about high school, but today I found a dusty copy of what passed for a "newspaper" in my school and it brought me back to when I was 16.

The girl who had been running the school newspaper for as long as I could remember was graduating that year, so she had to prepare for the final exam and university and she did not have time to edit anymore. My friends B., C., and I, in what was probably a fit of madness, decided to try our hand at it. And so I found myself co-editor of a newspaper. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but it would be one hell of an adventure.

The paper was called "Up!", after the Disney movie, for...some very creative reason I cannot remember. The first thing we did was change the title to "Up patriots to arms!"

One of the first things we had to cover was a very important, popular, yearly student strike,which would have been fairly easy, if not for the freaking tension between the two student organizations in our city. The biggest one, the "Rete" , was basically left wing - although many people didn't know or care about their affiliations- and they constantly butted heads with the student block, a group of self proclaimed neofascists who dressed in all black, used smoke bombs during protests and were always surrounded by the police.

We decided it would be a grand idea to interview the respective leaders to get both opinions on the matter.

The president of the "Rete" came to meet us after school. The highlight of the interview was when he said that his was a "non political organization", at which point we looked at each other in disbelief and asked him:"Really?"

The answer was "Yeas, although of course many of us are registered in different parties along the whole spectrum, such as..." and he started listing all left wing parties in the country, from communists to centrists, because apparently that's what he meant by "variety". Anyway.

It was time to interview the leader of the Block. He told us to wait in a square until someone would come get us.

B. and I were getting very nervous.

A guy with a shaved head and a black leather jacket came towards us. "You the journalists? Follow me"

We followed him to the lair. I mean headquarters.

(By the way, we realized we knew this guy. He was a lamb. I had no clue what he was doing there.)

The headquarters' walls were legit covered in swastikas and pictures of Mussolini. Yikes.

The leader was also very nice. Didn't stop me wanting to throttle him when he said that poor Mussolini was just misunderstood.

I had to ACTUALLY stop B. from doing something rash. No picking fights with the fascist dudes in he fascists's lair, please.

They straight up told us, I shit you not, that they were a brotherhood and, as a very effective bonding experience, they put on music and danced in a circle while whipping each other with leather belts. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. Maybe they were, but it didn't seem so. That didn't make it into the article, but it's forever etched into my brain.

I was shaken, but the double interview turned out great. #journalism

A while later we were sitting at a school assembly in the local movie theater. Everybody was complaining about the fact that our gym's roof had collapsed the year before and nobody was doing anything about it. We were taking the bus every week to a public gym, but we had to pay for it and were Officially Not Happy About It.

It was then that B. went : "You know what would be great? If we could interview the mayor about this"

I lit up. "Oh my god! We could ask him so many things! And not just about our school, but about the Linguistic High school that had to be evacuated and about [all the other schools that were literally falling to pieces. You know, Italian things]"

But the consensus was that, while we could try, it would be almost impossible for us to get an interview. So we sighed and sat back.

C.cleared her throat. "Guys." "Yes?" "You know how the mayor is a lawyer?" ".... Yes?" "Well, my dad is a lawyer. He knows him."

We dragged her to the bathroom

"We are not leaving here until your dad gets us an appointment" (poor guy)

He did

For that same night. At the town hall. At 8 pm.

We cleared our afternoon to come up with pertinent questions and practice and freak out.

At 8 we were at the town hall.

There was a red banner on the balcony with a slogan on it, that would be there for months afterwards, because...

... that same night a group of workers had occupied the town hall to demand better pay and better working conditions

Good for them

Bad for us

We were about to leave, but they assured us the mayor would be with us shortly

We waited three whole hours

During which, obviously, an old council member came to talk to us about how, if we wanted to do some real journalism, we should investigate the presence of the Illuminati in our town

Not gonna lie, we were kinda interested at that point

Around 11, the mayor called us in

I am going to concede that he must have been tired

But he was still a slimy son of a bitch

Extremely condescending

When we brought up our problems, he told us our schools were the Province's responsibility

(the Province would of course later tell us we were the Mayor's responsibility)

It was a train wreck

But eye opening

The article we wrote was extremely passive aggressive

He told C.'s father that he really liked it

I don't know if he was impermeable to sarcasm or just a politician.

Fast forward a few months. While our math teacher was talking, a giant piece of plaster fell from the ceiling, missed her by millimeters and crashed on the floor. We went on, business as usual, but that was kinda scary. And it was not the first incident of that kind to happen in our school.

We decided to do a reportage

Armed with notebooks and a camera, we went from classroom to classroom, asking students and teachers about problems with the building.

It was like opening a can of worms.

We got everything from "Oh yes, don't you see those huge holes in the ceiling and in the floor?" to "Yes, every time it rains the classroom gets flooded" to "See this giant wooden piece of tent rod? It fell on my shoulder last week. We don’t even have tents!"

Everyone had something to complain about. The teachers. The janitors. It was scary, to be honest. Especially considering we were repeatedly told ours was the safest school structure in town (what with having been standing since the end of WWI and all)

One day, while we were trying to get on the roof to evaluate its conditions, the headmistress called us in her office.

She said that she had gotten wind of what we were doing (duh)

And she hoped that we wouldn't give a bad impression of her "to parents and important people"

Because after all her hands were tied

It was the responsibility of the Mayor and the Province

(Just who the fuck was responsible for us?)

She smiled sweetly, leaned in towards us and whispered "You'll be careful now, won't you?"

She looked at me and said my name

Hoping I'd be the responsible/most easily intimidated one

(I had beef with that woman, mmmkay? But that's a story for another day)

I smiled and I told her: "Of course. We are just taking pictures of what we see. We'll let the truth speak for itself"

We did

No commentary

Just very objective descriptions and pictures

We really felt like heroes of the free press and free speech, at the service of the people despite the threat of power. (Yes, it sounds dramatic. It's because we were teenagers)

And then there were the other, less momentous adventures:

That one time when, after days of editing, we had to fill a little blank space at the bottom of the last page and nothing fit. We were frantically searching through our notes, the articles other students had sent us, drawings, everything, and we were slowly losing hope, until B. unearthed one of my notebooks and said : "What is this? 'Requiem. In memoriam termosifoni malati, ego ista verba pronuntio..." I was horrified. "NO" I yelled. "That's just a joke. We are NOT publishing that. NO WAY!" It was really a silly thing, you see. There was a radiator in our classroom that didn't work very well. Sometimes it was scorching hot, sometimes (on the coldest days, obviously) it was icy. So my friend E. and I had decided that the radiator was "sick", and we wrote its last will, its epitaph, parodies of famous poems like "La fontana malata" (The sick fountain) by Palazzeschi or "All'amica risanata" (To the healed friend) by Foscolo (can't find translations, sorry). It was fun. B.had found my silly attempt to write a "Requiem" in...kinda dog Latin I guess? But the grammar was correct. In any case, IT WAS NOT MEANT TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY. But we were desperate, so I relented. On one condition: it had to be ANONYMOUS. And that was the best decision I ever made in my entire life, because when we distributed the newspaper I saw a bunch of Latin teachers analising the fucking thing in front of their classes. "Mmmmhhh I am not sure an accusative was the best choice here. I would have gone with a dative." Then write your own pastiche poem, Marta! One of them had even copied it on the blackboard and was trying to figure out the metric! That was the equivalent of a 3am shitpost, not fucking Catullus, people! I have never been so embarrassed in my life! At least my friends were having a field day with it. Oh, and my Latin and Greek teacher figured it out. She read it and told me : "This was you, wasn't it?" I wanted to disappear. But she said it was funny, and that was the end of it.

All the times we had to edit what other students gave us and it was WILD, you guys. The grammar alone...The choice of topics....We got quite a few articles about UFO sightings over our town, so that was a thing. (We got to see a lot of really interesting and creative stuff, though)

The times we absolutely lost our cool, because it was hard work, okay? "Federica, your Isabel Allende analysis is a bit too long. Maybe if we cut the Scheherazade comparison..." "YOU ARE NOT CUTTING THE SCHEHERAZADE COMPARISON, B." "But.." "That is the backbone of the whole thing. The structure would collapse without it." "It's only a metaphor!" "No! I won't sell myself and my principles for a chance to be published" "Guys! CALM DOWN! It's just...essentially a book report." "SHUT UP C."[........] "I think we need to eat something" "Yeah. Should I make pancakes? With chocolate chips or without, B.? "

The time we got stuck at school because it was snowing, and C. wrote a beautiful piece called "The agonizing mesmerism of snow", and our friend P.,who was a wizard with a pencil, made an earie and amazing drawing for it that almost made me cry. Coincidentally, it was the day pope Ratzinger resigned. We thought it was a joke while still at school, then later on agreed that it was the reason it had been snowing in the first place. None of us wanted to write about the pope, so we asked the guy who was always sending us articles about the occult and arcane symbols hidden in churches. It turned out great.

The time a bunch of our more "troublesome" classmates started making hilarious dirty jokes based on Catullus' double entendres and B. promised them we would publish them (anonymously) if they wrote them down. They did, and the result was a page titled "Surrealism" full of the dirtiest "poetic" stuff in existence that made everybody laugh themselves unconscious, with the exception of some teachers who somehow didn't get the jokes.

The time we interviewed our student representative (a classmate of ours), whom B. had always thought was too full of himself and needed to be brought down a notch. So we "accidentally" misspelled his name in the article. Nobody noticed except him. He was fuming and it was glorious (not my proudest moment, but what can you do)

The time another brilliant classmate wrote a piece called "The pathologic mysoginist" that absolutely enraged some of the guys in our school. I stan her to this day.

That time I wrote a long article for Woman's day about the abuse and mistreatment of women in our country and across the world. I thought it was nothing special, really, but then Maria the janitor (the sweetest lady in existence) stopped me in the corridor and teared up a bit and said that she hadn't known about a lot of the things I had discussed, but she thought it was important to talk about them and that she felt represented as a woman and that she wanted to bring the paper home to read it to her husband. It touched me so deeply I still get emotional when I think about it.

Anyway, all of this and more happened in one year. Then we, too, had to worry about university admissions and exams and we passed the burden on to "aliens and occult" guy (who was amazing too)

But I remember the passion we poured into it, the willingness to take risks, the feeling of defying authority for the "greater good". We were idealists, all of us, and so full of hope and a will to change things in every way we could. Maybe a high school newspaper means nothing in the great scheme of things, but it meant something to us. It made us brave when we didn't think we were. It made us defiant. I wonder if that part of me is still sleeping, somewhere deep inside.

[etn-story-archive]

Enter the Nomicon - Chapter 7: You Know What?

.

"Dude, I said I'm OKAY."

It had been the hundredth time that Howard had asked Randy if he was okay.

"Well then, stop acting like a chowder head."

"I'm not acting like a chowder head, you shoob!"

By then, Nomi had ignored the two as he quietly finished tending to his leg. The bandages only numbed the pain, but it was good enough.

Howard turned to the redhead and glared at him silently. He had decided not to even bother picking a fight with the book, as it was obvious he would most likely lose. Snorting, he turned his attention back to his bro, who was lying on his back, glowering angrily at the ceiling (it was actually kind of cute). Sighing with irritation, Howard apologized.

"Okay Cunningham, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you the biggest shoob in all of Norrisville, okay?"

Randy turned his head to Howard and smirked. "Alright, alright, don't get all sappy and stuff dude!"

Howard rolled his eyes.

Nomi siphoned a shaky sigh. “We need to go now before anyone comes back."

Both Randy and Howard looked at Nomi; they had forgotten he was in the room.

"Let’s see if you can walk."

Randy readied to lift himself off the desk, but stopped when horrible pain shot up his torso. He sucked in a painful breath before dropping back to the desk. 

Nomi furrowed his brows. He walked up to Randy. Before he could offer to help, Randy swung his legs off the edge of the desk and tried to stand on his own feet. He winced when more pain spiked through his entire body. Staggering slightly, he took a few steps.

“Y-yeah, I think I can."

"Are you sure?"

Randy nodded. "Yeah dude, I'm sure."

While the two conversed, Howard had searched for Randy's discarded shirt. As soon as he found it, he cringed. There was a gaping hole where a ring of fresh blood surrounded it. Howard looked away from the shirt and tossed it to Randy.

With Nomi's help he was able to slide it on. Randy swallowed dryly, looking down at his bloody shirt. If his mother saw the wound, she would freak. (Also, he hoped Nomi wouldn't notice that he had just accidentally swallowed the now flavorless leaves.) There had been times where Randy had come home with bruises, and that alone had worried his mother immensely.

Knitting his brows in worry, he spoke up.

"H-hey, Nomi?"

"Yes?" He looked up as he was sliding his jeans back on.

"You think you can help me sneak into my room? I don't want my mom to freak out because of, uh, this..." Randy pointed to his bloodied shirt. 

Nomi shook his head in agreement. "Okay. So that means we'll have to get to your house by foot then?"

Randy blinked as he thought for a brief second. "Yeah. I guess."

...

Both Randy and Nomi hobbled through the empty halls of the slowly collapsing school. Howard slowed his walking and began walking closer to Randy. He kept an eye on Nomi. That unsettling feeling he felt when the taller male gave him a dark look after he caught Howard staring at Randy's butt returned. It made Howard more uncomfortable than his dust allergy made him.

Howard had nearly tripped when the two suddenly stopped walking. Randy limped over to a shattered window and peered through while Nomi stood still, listening. 

In the distance, they all could hear the oncoming sirens of both police cars and white hospital vans. News vans were trailing behind, no doubt.

It was clear to Nomi that at the slow pace they were going, it wouldn't be long before the police or the vultures of reporters stumbled upon them. They would look suspicious, and it would only cause them more trouble than they needed.

Though he had to take it easy on his leg, Nomi knew that it was dire that they got away from the school immediately, so without thinking twice, Nomi scooped up Randy in his arms, bridal style. Randy let out a surprised yelp, looking up at Nomi in shock and surprise, but didn't protest the action.

"We have to get out of here now, or we'll look suspicious. At this rate they'll find us easily. We'll just have to go through a different way." Nomi was biting back the urge to let out a groan from the pain in his leg. He quietly began his way to the opposite door at the other side of the school.

Howard looked through the window one last time before dashing after Nomi, who took off in an awkward jog.

"Slow down you shoob!"

Randy looked on behind them through the hard downpour as news vans quickly joined police cars and blaring white hospital vans.

They slowed down once they were nearly a block away. 

Nomi let out a sigh. The rain had soaked through their clothes, and he was certain Randy's bandages were slowly becoming a pile of mush (if they weren't already). His leg hurt and he nearly dropped Randy more times than he would have liked, but he wasn't taking any chances of letting Randy walk on his own. They needed to get back to Randy's house before things got even worse.

Randy shivered. The rain soaked him to the bone, and it was freezing despite it being so close to summer. He could actually see his own breath. He made brief eye contact with Howard, who gave him a small smile, before Nomi took off on another spry jog.

Howard had tried to keep up with the fast ginger, but the rain made it extremely difficult, as it blurred his vision greatly. The only thing that kept Howard from getting lost in the torrent of rain was Randy's deep purple hair, and Nomi's fiery red one.

When the three neared Randy's home they realized it would be extremely difficult to get inside without the elder Cunningham noticing them. However, before they could make up some sort of plan, the front door swung open.

...

The house was silent. It had begun raining sometime after Randy and Nomi left for school. After much debating, she had called in sick, having a very awkward and reluctant conversation with Viceroy and McFist. At the very least she hadn't actually lied about being sick. She felt like hammers were pounding away in her head, and in all honesty, she wasn't in the mood or condition to deal with McFist or Viceroy. Really, she didn't want to deal with anyone at the moment.

Deciding to relax and just watch TV, Ruby had made herself a cup of herbal tea. She knew it would help her migraine, but the bitter taste was also something she had been craving.

Plopping down on the plush black couch (black, because Randy always spilled McCola on their old white one), Ruby flipped on the flat-screen TV. She frowned. The first thing that came up was the dreaded news channel. Quickly switching to a different channel, she was met with more news. Again she changed the channel to find even more news. Ruby's brows creased as she read the headline that was both above and below the TV.

"LIVE- 100 Foot Monster Nearly Destroys High School. Ninja possibly injured? New Ally? Sidekick? Stay Inside—"

Ruby didn't read the rest as she felt a nauseating feeling in her stomach.

A female reporter came on screen, wearing a practiced, fake smile.

"Hello, I'm Sandra Summers with today’s Action News! We're here live on the spot with Principal Slimovitz. Slimovitz, please explain what happened here?"

The usually enthusiastic, perky man looked utterly drained and exhausted, and he spoke in such a monotone voice that it made him seem like he was a completely different man altogether.

"Y-yes, hello everyone, and Sandra. Well, it's, uh, well, very hard to explain, but I was speaking to a student, who I won't name, and told them some very...upsetting news. It angered them, and they turned into a huge monster-bull-thing. Everyone is supposed to just get out of the ninja's way, but when the ninja didn't come, we all evacuated the school." The man rubbed his temples, letting out a shaky sigh. "From the looks of it though, the ninja obviously stopped the monster student, but it looks like school will be out for at least a week, since all the buildings are sort of crumbling." 

The young woman nodded. For a brief moment seemed genuinely sorry for him.

“Thank you, Principal Slimovitz."

He nodded before breaking into sobs. He ran out of the screen and away from the scene.

Ruby's green eyes were wide as she watched intently. She felt a horrible, nagging feeling in her gut. 

Sandra Summers turned back to the screen with a slightly shaky smile.

"I just received some very shocking news. It seems a local video game store just a few blocks away captured a small part of the battle. Since it was a few blocks away, the camera only captured a few things, but it includes the last part of the fight. Here it is."

Just like the news reporter had said, the video showed the ninja and his ally fighting the monster, which oddly resembled Bash Johnson and a bull. The ninja parted away from the large monster and began climbing the side of the school, while their ally tried to fight the monster.

Ruby flinched when she watched the ally wither in pain as the monster bent his leg in an unnatural way, before being tossed into the trees. 

The monster made its way up to the roof, which surprisingly didn't collapse in on the school. The ninja was trying to stay away from the edges, then suddenly his ally appeared. For a brief moment they all stood still, before...

Ruby shrieked in horror as her son was impaled in the stomach and thrown over the roof. 

As the ninja began plummeting to the earth below, someone dove off the roof after them. The video ended, and the reporter was back on screen. 

She seemed to have tears in her eyes.

"We are still unsure if the ninja survived the fall as there are no bodies, and any blood or trace of the ninja or his ally has been washed away. This is reporter Sandra Summers of Early McNews, and we'll be back after these messages."

Once again she smiled, though this time, it seemed completely forced. 

By then Ruby had switched off the TV. Her arm hung in the air with the remote still in hand. She began shaking violently as she fought the urge to break down into sobs again. 

No. Her son needed her, and she had to be strong. She rose up, not caring that she dropped her cup of tea and spilled it all over the white carpeted floor. She raced to her room and grabbed her coat and the keys to her car. 

She ran to the door, swung it open, and froze.

In front of her on the front lawn stood a soaking wet Nomi and Howard, Nomi was carrying Randy.

They all stared at her in shock, gawking at her, much like she was to them.

"Oh my god!" She screeched as she ushered the three inside. Nomi barely managed to put Randy on the ground before Ms. Cunningham wrapped her arms tightly around Randy's shorter form. She buried her face into his hair and cried softly murmuring in between them. "Oh my...baby boy...don't-...I'm...so glad you're okay!"

Randy stared up at his mother in a silent stupor as she pulled away at arms length. She looked down at him, and wiped away the tears that had streamed down her face.

"I-I was so worried! I saw the n-news report and—oh god, I was so scared!"

Both Nomi and Howard watched in silence, unsure of what to do. While Howard stood, feeling awkward, Nomi was immersed in his own thoughts.

The fact that Ms. Cunningham hadn’t acknowledged him left an empty ache inside him. He had lost his mother when he was only five. The last time he had heard his mother's voice was so long ago. He hadn't even become his grandfather's protégé when she had passed.

Nomi stared at his feet as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. 

Finally, the woman looked down and froze, her eyes on the gaping hole in his shirt. Before Randy could begin to make an excuse, he stopped himself. He looked up and could see his mother's eyes starting to brim with tears.

"M-mom?"

Ms. Cunningham looked up at her son. His blue eyes stared up at her even brighter green ones.

"Randy..." She trailed off. This was proof, actual proof that her son truly was the Ninja, and yet...

Ruby didn't want to believe it. She couldn't.

 She shook her head.

"Lift your shirt up."

Randy hesitated a bit before lifting it up gently, revealing the bandages that had miraculously stayed on. Ruby's breath hitched. She was relieved she didn't see blood on them, most likely because Nomi had carried him.

Nomi watched. He didn't dare try to interfere. He was even holding back Howard, who wanted to rush in and help Randy. He panicked a little when the woman asked for Randy to lift his shirt up, but still, he said or did nothing, just watched.

She inspected it before she began unwrapping it carefully with one hand, while her other hand shot up to cover her mouth as she audibly gasped. The wound was stitched up, and seemed to already be healing, which was strange. It looked like it was a week old, even though it was obvious that the incident happened not even an hour ago.

She touched it cautiously, and then looked over at Nomi. He held a stoic expression. She made a mental note to thank him later. Looking away, she let out a shaky sigh, then her eyes flickered back towards her son.

“I want you three to take a hot bath and then explain to me what happened, and I want the truth." Her voice had taken a stern turn.

All three teens stared at the woman wordlessly, surprised by her words. She raised a brow at the three.

"Well? Come on. I don't want you all to catch a cold. I'm surprised none of you have gotten hypothermia already."

...

After a little help from his mother, he was able to get inside the steaming bath tub. He sat down, allowing the water to help relax his stiff muscles. He let out a deep sigh. Relief replaced the ache he felt in his stomach.

His mind went to the fact that his mother was acting so...strange. 

Was that the right word? Randy furrowed his brows, trying to connect two and two, but found it futile. He didn't understand his mother's strange behavior, and realizing he's been in the bathtub longer than he should of he began washing away all the grime and dirt from his body. He didn't even think about rubbing his wound with soap at all.

He wrinkled his nose when he realized his mother had given him her shampoo; it smelled like strawberries. It was obviously a sort of revenge for making her worry so much, and deciding not to bother his mother even more, he shrugged and scrubbed his hair with the strawberry scented shampoo. He rose up with a little difficulty, and tugged the plug, allowing the water to drain out before turning on the shower, and switching to the showerhead.

He allowed the slightly less warm water to rain down on him, washing away the sweet smelling soap. He had to admit it though, it didn't smell too bad. It was extremely girly, but still not bad.

Finally, stepping out of the shower, he began throwing on his clothes. It was his Grave Puncher pajamas. The soft polyester fiber pants felt like heaven on his legs, and the long-sleeved shirt felt a lot better than his other cold, bloody, soaking wet trademark one.

It was then that he realized he hadn't really thought of a good enough explanation. He stood for a brief moment.

They could say that they had been caught up in the battle, they got trapped and injured, but were able to escape before things got too hectic and came here. Perfect.

Before Randy left, he remembered that Nomi was going to shower. He walked over to the bath tub, rinsed it out with the shower head, and put the plug back in the drain, then proceeded to turn on the hot water till it nearly filled up the tub before switching it off. 

Randy finally began to leave the bathroom when he bumped into Nomi, who had been standing outside the room.

"Sorry, dude."

Nomi chuckled softly. "It's okay."

Before Nomi could go inside Randy spoke up. "Hey Nomi?"

The redhead turned to Randy. Randy rubbed his neck, almost embarrassed. "Uh, thanks for saving my ass back there...and for carrying me."

Nomi blinked then nodded. He gave him a small smile, though it was partially forced. "You're welcome." He turned away and walked inside before locking the door shut.

As soon as Nomi shut the door, the smile was gone. He felt the guilt well up inside him overwhelmingly. If he hadn't sparked the fight with Bash, none of this would've happened.

Sighing deeply, he decided to just drop it for now.

After the quick bath, Nomi found a pair of pajamas, obviously meant for him, neatly folded on the sink counter, along with a towel. Nomi began slipping on the soft black polyester pants, and self consciously slipped on the grey long sleeved shirt.

Nomi stood in front of the mirror, inspecting his sleeping attire. It was obvious the black pants were Randy's, as they were a bit baggy. Randy was slightly taller than him, but the grey shirt had fit him, more or less.

He wondered what Randy had come up with. Perhaps a pretty lame excuse, like they were in the bathroom and they got locked inside, and would forget to explain as to how he had gotten the small wound on his stomach. Nomi snickered at the thought, though it was slightly bitter.

...

Both Randy and Nomi stood in front of Ms. Cunningham. Howard had been picked up by his parents after he had finished showering, thus leaving Randy and Nomi to deal with Ms. Cunningham by themselves.

She had her arms crossed as she stared down at them expectantly.

"So, care to tell me what happened?"

Both Nomi and Randy looked at each other a little uneasily. Nomi turned to the tall woman who was staring at them with a stern motherly gaze. Just as Nomi was about to make an excuse, Randy surprised him as he spoke up.

"We got caught in the fight. I-I was walking and this piece of wood stabbed me. Nomi and Howard took me to a room and tried helping me. The ninja came in helped me then left. We were stuck in the room until the ninja beat the monster, and Nomi, Howard and I came home—"

"Why didn't you call me!?"

"Our phones got wet. Mine didn't want to work, Howard's was dead, and Nomi doesn't have one, so—"

"So nothing! Y-you...oh never mind. You two are grounded! For your safety, until this all clears up."

Randy gaped at her in shock. Nomi looked to him then at his mother. The two seemed torn. Nomi frowned before speaking up.

"Ms. Cunningham, honestly it's my fault. I shouldn't have—"

"No, no. I'm sorry to the both of you. Randy, Nomi please go upstairs it's just too dangerous to go outside anyways."

Randy nodded, while Nomi stared at the woman uncertainly before nodding.

"Okay Mom."

Ms. Cunningham threw herself at her son, pulling him into a tight embrace, which Randy returned. Nomi smiled slightly. It was awkward for him really, but he was glad Randy and his mother had such a close relationship.

Randy silently made his way upstairs, but before Nomi could follow, someone stopped him. He turned to look at Ms. Cunningham as she breathed out a soft, "Thank you."

“You're welcome."

Randy hadn't seen the little exchange as he stumbled up the stairs until Nomi came and tried helping him, though he himself was having a little trouble.

As soon as the door closed, Ms. Cunningham ran to her room, and finally broke out into sobs. She flopped onto her bed and grabbed the nearest pillow on her bed and cried into it.

Should she tell Randy that she knew? That he didn't have to lie? That she understood, she just worried about him, but deep down she knew she couldn't. It was up to Randy if he wanted to tell her about his alter ego as the ninja.

...

Randy silently climbed up the ladder of his loft bed. Nomi threw his large gym bag onto Randy's bed as he climbed up after him. Nomi winced as soon as he put a little pressure on his leg. It was like fire had engulfed it. Still, he didn't pay it much heed as he sat across from Randy and began digging through the black bag.

Randy watched as his roommate sorted through his things and instantly looked worried. He began rummaging through the bag, throwing out a few school supplies, pulling out his suit and cape, neatly folding them, and a few other things. 

Relieved, Nomi pulled out the MP3 player and was even more relieved to find that the rain hadn't ruined the little device. He looked over at his cape and plucked his relic from its usual spot at the chest, and turned it into an amulet and placed it around his neck.

Randy raised a brow when Nomi put one ear bud in his ear. Wasn't he going to scold him for getting himself hurt? Some big lesson he needed to learn? Randy's train of thought was broken when an extended hand offered him an ear bud. He looked up at Nomi, who gave him a soft chuckle.

"We'll talk in a minute. Just relax first."

It was as if he had read Randy's mind, but Randy didn't care as he grabbed the ear bud and placed it in his ear. 

For a good hour and a half they had listened through the songs, this time in comfortable silence. It wasn't until Nomi spoke up did he finally turn it off.

Instantly, Randy removed the ear bud and sat anxious to hear what his teacher had to say.

"I'm sorry."

Randy blinked. "Huh?"

"I said I'm sorry. If I had better controlled my own emotions, Bash wouldn't have gotten stanked and none of this would've happened."

"What the honkin' juice are you talking about, Nomi!? I should be sorry. I got stabbed because I wasn't paying attention, and—"

"No, you did fine. We need to work on a few things, but you did a near flawless job, especially since Bash was at least one hundred feet tall, an extremely powerful adversary."

Randy shook his head. "Nomi, don't be such a chowder head. I told you, it wasn't your fault..."

Nomi sighed. "I suppose you should rest now, so I'll just—"

Randy quickly stopped him. "H-hey! Dude, your leg!"

Nomi raised a brow and looked at his leg. He had wrapped more bandages around his injured leg after his shower. "What?"

"You don't have to leave...you can sleep with me. I'm fine with that, and it's going to honkin' hurt like hell when you try to climb down."

Nomi looked at him dubiously as he ran a hand through his red locks. "A-are you sure?"

Randy nodded.