#and unfortunately yeah. as much as i sympathized with her trauma and her need for vengeance. she in fact did get katara's mom killed

[mdhwrites]

how do you feel about disability rep in the owl house? Anyway it could've been done better? Cause as someone who is neurodivergent (autism) I felt like Luz's arc had unfortunate implications ('shes literally neurodivergent and a Minor' type vibes and mixed in with the whole fantasy vs reality themes and it came off as telling neurodivergent people to reject reality or like we wouldn't be hindered in the slightest by our disabilities in xyz worlds- which feels gross) but I could be reading into this too much. I also don't like how Hunter lost his 'disability' yeah you can compare it to getting a pacemaker or a mobility aid with his problem not being fixed but made better but that 'pacemaker' came at the cost of his best friend and his whole possession situation felt gratuitous to me. I'm really interested in seeing how Hunter could've been done better if you have any ideas

So I am going to try to be as calm and kind on this subject as I can. I feel like I've let a lot of heat come into my blogs lately that I try not to because I've been in distress. I am actually, legally disabled after all. It is the vast majority of my income, not helped by how randomly my brain will just break and I will have no way to get it to work again. I'm on the brink of another who knows how long run of my brain no longer functioning and am clawing to try and keep it together so I can do SOMETHING besides just ramble in these blogs. So I can keep writing or streaming rather than vanish. So this topic is important to me to put it extremely mildly.

To talk about this with The Owl House we kind of have to talk about each angle it takes on this subject one at a time. Eda and Hunter are two sides of the coin for this representation after all. I know you bring up Luz and yes, nuerodivergence can be disabling but if we want to talk about disability, I don't think Luz is actually a part of the conversation. If she is, it's for the theoretical representation of depression in S3 when she is at her worst as a character. People like to claim trauma and depression for why it's okay that she's constantly lying, or why she tries to abandon an entire world despite admitting it's her fault it's in trouble. She is her absolute worse self in that time and... If that is the rep we get for mental illness, I'll wait another five years. I don't want someone who is entirely apathetic to others and makes excuses for their actions to be the one who represents me, not when I hear that shit from assholes on the news too much already.

We'll start positive and head down from there. Eda actually starts out great. With regular medication and self care, she is able to live a fairly normal life. I have admittedly criticized in the past that there is no cure for the curse, that Eda is a slowly ticking time bomb who only through death will not end up harming all of those around her eventually, but I actually want to rescind that. As a dramatization of the anxiety that especially mental disability brings about of that day when everything breaks, even if it never comes, it works. It's within the confines of the fantasy genre and isn't demonized but sympathized that she has to work so hard to hold this back. But she can and she stands strong despite it, stronger than most in her situation in a way that is inspirational.

Then we get our first slip up with her at the end of S1. In order to find reprieve, to come back from the edge... She shares her disability. Her peace of mind, her ability to be a human being, comes at the cost of another person. I say slip up though because one could argue it's dramatization of the communal help that many disabled people need. I worked as a Home Care Aid at one point for someone in a wheelchair. My own family helps me because I am a complete mess of a person. I do my best to be able to function entirely on my own but when you are literally incapable of being a functional human being... Yeah, help is good. Do I like how high of a cost it comes for Lilith? Not really, nor the fact that she becomes disabled in the same way because some people do think disability and mental illness is contagious but I'm willing to let it slide for the sake of dramatization.

Affearances genuinely course corrects to show the small ways in which Eda deals with her illness not just with medication but also understanding of it. Her need to stay calm, the ways she tries to center herself, all so the medication is more of a stabilizer and last resort. That is genuinely good.

Then... A point I'm torn on. In the episode itself, I do not mind the formation of Harpy Eda. The process of coming to not just deal with but accept your disability is big and hard and you can come out the other side feeling like a new person. One could even see the Harpy form like that and even the deals we make with our disability to let ourselves do more like in Eclipse Lake. I'll even retract old heat I gave this for implying your disability can be a superpower because it fits within the genres of fantasy. I will even admit part of this kindness comes from writing this myself and realizing that it's just more fun and exciting to let the disability have upsides to it rather than treat it as purely debilitating.

No, my bigger issue comes from the fact that it is the end of it as a disability. Eda is essentially cured besides some lip service and if they were going to go that route, they should have just said it. In the finale, she loses to the curse in a deeper way than we have EVER seen before... And then freed from it like it's just a snap of her fingers. Harpy Eda is literally just a super form, not her having to genuinely deal with the illness, especially as it just becomes the way she fights. I do approve of the idea of showing that you CAN get better from this stuff, some people do, but it makes me wish they'd just said that. Just admitted that her coming to accept it was the final step. Would that have been realistic? No but I've showcased how many times already how much this rep relies on dramatization? Give us the feel good ending of Eda having mastered it, explicitly, instead of just letting it be up in the air and used for cheap drama in the finale. That makes the whole thing feel almost exploitative because if I lose it like Eda lost it in the finale... I can't just turn that off. I get to be terrified and shaken and have that day firmly implanted into my mind for the rest of my life. For the show, it was shock value instead and I'm not okay with that.

Speaking of things I'm not okay with, let's talk about the other side of this coin: Hunter. Now remember that I was willing to give grace to some elements... Except now they're reinforced by a second character sometimes and that makes it a lot harder to shrug off. We'll get there when we get to Flapjack though.

No, where I actually want to start with for him isn't even that he has a disability, it's actually with Willow. She tries to make it out like being a late bloomer is the same as NEVER being able to do this. Like telling a paraplegic person you understand their pain because you had a cast once. I've had someone go "Yeah, it's hard for me to get out of bed too but I always manage it," while trying to motivate me to just power through anxiety that was LITERALLY CHOKING ME and I wanted to punch them in the face. And this is the start of your ROMANCE PLOT. The core thing that tells the audience that these two are going to get close and get together.

In one scene, it becomes SUPER clear that there is no one on this writing team that actually understands what the fuck it means to be disabled. The nice portion of the blog is over.

Okay, let's actually pull back. I will give Hunter this: In his early scenes, he genuinely comes across as someone who has adapted to his physical disability and the limitations of it. His staff is his aid device and he makes up for lack of magic with increased athleticism. He is by all means, the most dextrous person we see in the entire show and genuinely, the show never takes that away from him. It's also just really easy to forget because the show doesn't exactly give a lot of chances for it to shine, not while it's mostly shitting on him or having the trained soldier lose to others, if he even seems much more physically capable than those around him at all.

But hey, how about first that aid device! We do recognize Luz takes his crutch, right? Like his staff is what takes away his handicap versus the rest of the Isles. That helps him overcome the limitations of his physical disability and an entire episode has the main character steal it from him and blackmail him with it. He is mildly annoyed about this for the entire episode, almost like not having the way that helps him feel normal doesn't mean much to him. It'd be like if in Affearances, Eda didn't get mad at her mom for taking her elixir because her elixir is the equivalent to Hunter's staff. Gwyndolen is demonized for this action while we're supposed to be on Luz's side because Hunter is a bad man who will do bad things if allowed his staff back. That... That isn't okay to me.

Btw, this isn't even the only time this happens in the show. Belos asks Luz to call him Philip. She calls him Belos. The show is really all for just being entirely disrespectful to someone's identity and personhood so long as you are morally better than them. What the fuck?

For the rest of S2, there's a really, REALLY bad flaw with having Huntlow be his ship. EVERY single one of Willow's episodes to some extent features how being a late bloomer, having struggled/struggling with magic, makes her feel like an outcast. That despite the fact that really she just wasn't great at this skill, she gets a lot of dramatic weight to this. Hunter... Doesn't. His disability is almost entirely ignored to prioritize the fact that he's a Grimmwalker or his relationship with Belos. It is just not a part of his character despite the girl he is blushing at explicitly making it clear that this society ABSOLUTELY looks down on Hunter. That not having magic makes you be less than anyone else. Hell, we get more of this from EDA AND LILITH in the first episode of S2 than we ever get from Hunter. The prejudice they are treated with and their struggles to deal with it while Hunter is at best all subtext.

This admittedly starts getting into how this show fucking hates men and how they are almost all at some point a joke, villain or both in their time. So... Yeah, Hunter not being given respect for his disability while the women are is hardly surprising.

The big thing that shatters EVERYTHING is of course Flapjack's sacrifice. You remember how I had to kind of work around how to make Eda making someone else disabled okay? Well now we have a second time where a disabled character is 'cured' to some extent of their disability... By the suffering of someone close to them. This time with literal death.

One of the worst prejudices that disabled people, of any sort but especially mentally disabled/ill people, have to face is that we are burdens and menaces to society. That we are more prone to hurting people than regularly abled people. That there is a price to having us around that everyone would not have to pay otherwise. If there is one thing you CANNOT do with your disability allegory, it is to make the disability cost someone else their life, figuratively or literally, unless you REALLY plan to examine what the fuck that means. TOH does both, once with Flapjack and once with Lilith respectively.

In order to be 'normal', it literally costs Hunter the life of his best friend. In order to be saved from the extremes of her illness, Eda cripples her sister. What the fuck are you supposed to take away from that? And there is no way to square this with it just being a fantastical representation of something. It's not just making the consequences of disability more extreme or reflecting the shared burden that can sometimes be our existence and our need for support. Being cured should be joyous. Instead, it's melancholic, not for the grief of your existence inherently changing, Hunter is meant to purely celebrate that he now has magic, but because it came at extreme cost to other people.

In that one moment, paired with Lilith, I can't approve of TOH as disabled representation. There is no way for me to ever square it, just like how Luz using depression as an excuse to be the worst version of herself makes me not okay with her as nuerodivergent representation. Not when it doesn't explore this stuff and even tries to celebrate and say this is correct, since Luz is never criticized for her awful behavior during her angst arc and Hunter is made out to be better without his disability, no matter the cost.

I am fine if you don't want to show clean or nice representation of these things. Not all disabled people are nice. Not all nuerodivergent people are functional. There is a wide spectrum to our experiences but to take the worst elements of your representation and give them the most narrative weight is BAD. Even Eda suffers from this. Her taking care of herself is mostly in passing. Way more weight is given to Eda not being able to take care of herself. To how missing her medication by even an hour makes her a danger to everyone around her, or even susceptible to manipulation like when King uses her transforming 80% into the Owl Beast. Suddenly, the fact that she manages her condition like many disabled people do feels really overshadowed by the constant reminders, and literal showings, of the danger she poses to those she cares about most. The cost of allowing us to continue to participate in society, the damage we do to others, the harm that comes from a bad day from us, is so much harder to ignore when those are the elements that your work decides to focus on. It especially sucks because it hardly focuses on the pain and incapability of the condition, just the danger. It's all about what it will do to others and not the agony it inflicts on the person who has it.

TOH is bad with almost all of its themes and attempts to be progressive and this is no different. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I am going to assume that it's the same person who sent me essentially a variation of this ask like five times. If you are that worried about me responding, the Discord is where you will get a MUCH faster response, especially since I am kind of trying to pull back from TOH criticism. It has been genuinely kind of nice to talk about other things recently.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[hottakehoulihan]

Ward reread rants/musings/babblings, as I go through arc 6

I don't think you get to create a cohesive fictional world without being a "control freak" (not a very fair term, but I just want to dash this off I don't intend to write essays) about it. People may advocate for 'death of the author' but the author needs to stay very much alive to actually create anything that aspires to quality. So, I'm 100% in favor of an author having unbending WOG even as I'll add my own headcanon on after the fact.

Also, as rambly as my typing gets, talking IRL to people is way worse and the folk who can pick up what I'm trying to communicate are rare (and I treasure them). I understand the frustration of "no I'm trying but you're not getting it and I'm not communicating it but I do know it: the structure of this thing is such that it behaves this way and not that way.

And hell, maybe if the Worm fans (?) hadn't made interacting with the Wormverse a tiresome and depressing exercise for WB, he'd allow that what people think about themselves and others as teenagers is likely to change profoundly if they live through another decade and if their headcrabs / traumas don't interfere too much with their thought processes and outlooks.

So I'm a WB sympathizer.

That said, if he said Ward was the least fun he had writing? It kinda shows. I discovered Worm after it was entirely complete, and in fact what with the vagaries and vicissitudes of life Pale was the first WB thing I had to wait for updates to finish. ...but I recall WB used to playfully troll the audience in the comments, and also played games with them on the side, and was just a goofy guy when he wasn't being the epic serialist. And I have to remind myself of this because he's--Cherrypop driving a murder truck over the protagonists notwithstanding--serious and tired-seeming now. (This could also be the demands of our era and aging.)

But yeah; there are WB-isms that grate on me a bit (I've kvetched about "less" for "fewer", but also there's "blood ran cold" and "sooner than later" (a regionalism? I've heard it "sooner rather than later" but maybe it's a Canuck thing?) and having a guy named Rain be intregal to the plot/action while there's actual precipitation going on and just blithely using the same words, or repeating the same word three times in two sentences. And there's more. It's maybe a style thing, and it's absolutely parseable and that means it's forgivable or even fine and I'm just being picky and wanting poetry from prose and if I don't like it I should get back to writing my own stuff and doing better, but I suspect that Ward is the "write a book in a month by getting to your wordcount and don't worry too much about editing" entry into WB's oeuvre. He had ideas, he had a story, and as John Scalzi puts it, writing is a job when you are getting paid so you do it whether your heart's in it or not and the technique from practice and the effort will get it done and you eat your mistakes and learn from them just like cooking.

(I like Scalzi's take, that if you're getting paid to write you write and damn the torpedoes or your own mood. I'll keep doing it for not-pay so that it's not a job, because I want to enjoy it. Also, I prefer the idea of the audience not getting input until the deed is done. I think if Breaking Bad had been produced in entirety without a test audience--like The Wire was--it would have been a vastly better show. But we wouldn't have Jesse to ship with Waltuh, so...YMMV.)

So yeah; I'm only on arc six in my reread, and unfortunately post-GM Victoria reminds me too much of the parts of myself that I like least* so it's hard for me to like her as a protag, but there are bits I'm looking forward to (banter with the Heartbroken and their parents, Kensie's whole deal, grumpy haughty Damselite doings) and I do set the book down reluctantly (rather than with relief) so I am enjoying much of the ride, even with some regret that it couldn't have been more fun for the author and--consequently--for the audience.

I guess it's got some similarities to the Simarillion; it adds context but part of your engagement will depend on your engagement with the previous work.

---------------------

And of course there's Amy, who I love from the beginning to end of Worm and while I could wish she could transcend her own trauma and become happy and healthy and confident and comfortable, in her own brain and social situations. (I wish that for myself too, and for each of you, and we have the freedom to be the authors of large parts of our own stories; if it's believable that any of us struggle but fail or fail to struggle, it's believable for Amy.) Well, I am rereading partly to review her situation and renew my understanding of what actually happened WRT her and also titans because it's foggy. ...but although I want what I want, some people just don't get the roll of the dice to achieve the right situation that allows them to escape their own traps.

Ward is that notional car that was put together on a Monday by skilled mechanics who maintained their professionalism and gritted their teeth and worked through their hangovers to make sure it passed diagnostics and QC, but...but.

----------------------------

Ward's also the story of how someone learns reconcile and achieve comfort with their long-established contemporary who has a monstrous side but is still a being worthy of love and consideration and can be--with patience--a close friend.

Shame that the monster side of Amy wasn't the one we're talking about here.

---------------------------------------

I could write another disjointed rant on the subject of Amy alone, but I'd best finish my reread first so I have all the info fresh in my brain-ocean.

But in case I don't? Here's my hot take, which at one point I had as long as the above but the subject is fraught, deleted entirely, wrote a different take on, it's STILL a hot take, and there are things in it that are loadbearing squick points for me so I'm leaving them deleted:

Amy, of her own free will, and in canon that is actually discussed in early Ward, temporarily turned off all of Victoria's emotions and then gave Victoria the option to remember or forget all the things Amy did that will give Victoria trauma For Ever. That was an entirely unpragmatic but arguably top-tier ethical choice for Amy to do.

Amy was monstrous. Sure, all humans are monsters at various points in their lives. Doug Forcett isn't real but he still had things to repent even after his childhood, and even if Yeshua Ben-Yosef was exactly what his marketers and fans described him as, he still intentionally tortured and caused death, not including the suffering his inactions caused. (What was he going to do? Avoid his abusive parent by spending all day in the hospital? No. That's what Amy did. Bonus; she didn't enjoy it, so it was even more saintlike than it would be if she got satisfaction from it.) (I'm saying it: Amy is bigger than Jesus. If you shoot me, be sure to carry a copy of Catcher in the Rye or it won't be any fun.)

But Amy stepped across a much bigger line than even normal human monstrosity (no sense dwelling on normal human monstrosity; it's everywhere and part of it is choosing not to see it but I have to avert my eyes sometimes or I'll become a pillar of salt) and it took her some time and a little circumstance to stop doing the monster thing. And now (late Worm through early Ward at least) she's martyring herself, (Jesus get out of my post!) or trying to stop being a martyr because it's been years and the world ended and redemption isn't 100% about martyring it's about being a better person too.

Amy--even the most heavily monstrous Amy imaginable in the text--is utterly redeemable, and closer to it than many of those who aren't framed as needing redemption.

Hang in there girl.

And I'll hang in there on my reread. The highlight of the first half of arc six is Imp bantering with Bitch and Bitch telling Victoria she's a good girl (not with that wording that would break the reality, but it was still cute) for finding a lost dog.

[ndostairlyrium]

MA QUANTO TEMPO, wait that I'll throw you some family prompts.

👩, 👍 for Hawke, 💕, ✨ for Ankh, 😞, ⚰️ for Ela!

( of course, skip any you don't like, they're… A lot, LOL)

GLI EONI 💛💛

Hawke:

👩 - What's your muse's relationship with their mother, what made it that way?

Leandra is a very cautious person, protective of her children. Being Hawke the guy with the thunderous laugh in the back of the room and the occasional "I turned Carvers hair into moss because he was being annoying" sibling, you can see why their relationship was rocky to say the least. Malcolm acted like Switzerland between them but most of the times it wasn't enough. They were clearly different people, they still are.

It's when Malcolm died that Hawke realized that his mother was acting a certain way for a reason, consequently he changed his behavior to ease her role as a single parent. He soon became someone to rely on, working alongside her with much more passion, plus he toned down his personality to avoid unpleasant attentions.

Usually, when parents are left alone with children depending on them, they either become superheroes with iron shoulders or they look for another adult in the room for assistance. In Hawke's case, unfortunately the second option happened. He was treated like the other adult in the household while he was still developing his identity. I think that's one of the reasons why Carver just antagonizes him at every possible occasion; he's not his dad and he's not acting like his silly big brother again. Who is Hawke? Why he's in charge? Why does he think it's best to do certain things without even consulting him and Bethany about it?

I can sympathize with Leandra for acting like this tho, growing three kids (two of them being mages) without someone helping is probably one of the hardest roles you can ever have. "Yeah but she could've asked for help rather than putting such responsibilities to her kid"

Listen Judy, the woman has kids with magic. What if she asked for help to the wrong person? One that could give templars a call and just take what's left of her family away, for example. She's alone, in a different country, her dreams have just been shattered in the worst way. She's just a human trying to survive an environment that is trying to crush her; realistically, a perfect reaction to crises rarely occurs.

What I'm trying to say is, Leandra's situation has never been easy. But she was also the adult in the room and she wasn't fair with her older kid.

Hawke took the lead because he understood his mother's struggle, but she failed to fulfill her children needs in return. But she also did her best? That's why Hawke was adamant to give her a better life in Kirkwall, he knows she could have done more, but also he knows that she just needs a different environment to grow and thrive.

tl;dr: he knows her flaws, but he can't help but love her profoundly even if he has all the rights to fail and process his trauma without having to act like nothing can touch him

👍 - Does your muse think they’re a good child and/or sibling?

No, because he blames himself for everything bad happened to his family. But he's a great child and sibling.

Ankh:

💕 - What are your muse’s thoughts on parenting and being a parent even if they aren’t one?

Actually, I never planned anything for this lol

I know she wants to generate a chaos elemental and the guy is into the idea as well, but there are quite the maluses involved in such a concept (anchor messing up with the inquisitor's body, age, lyrium influence on fertility, plus elves being unfortunate when it comes to their reproductive system). Hopefully they'll have that experience, I'm just not too eager to explore the implications surrounding it :'D and Bonbon is already a fulltime parenting job. Could be a training ground for the most poofy haired kid in existence? We'll see, we'll see

✨ - How important is family to your muse?

Fundamental.

Her concept of family is different from the standard parent 1 parent 2 (3,4...), plus spawn. For her, family is the ensemble of all her loved ones, including her clan, her people in general, and the ones who entered her life by seeking her protection. She doesn't think of her blood relatives more than she would think of Cassandra.

Which is why when someone betrays her, the world just stops making sense.

Ela:

😞 - Finding an orphaned child would your muse opt to take them in, find someone more qualified, or just leave them?

A Warden's life is not suited for a child. Before the Chantry just forced the Wardens to get rid of Anders, probably she would have left them to a flock of mothers/sisters to take care of them. In this moment she would probably claim a couple of favors and place them in the most suitable household. The girl has a heart

⚰️ - How would the loss of a family member affect them? Does it vary based on type of family member?

Being a traumatized orphan still, she would take the loss of his brother in the most heartbreaking way possible. She knows her clock is ticking faster than his, and it would be an upsetting surprise if he was the one walking through the Veil first.

She would honor his name by all means, even if this would end in losing all the freedom she struggled to capture all those years she was away from Highever. She would return home and stay in court to protect the designated heir until the situation is cleared from any threat, sacrificing her tasks in order to celebrate what her brother accomplished while she was away.

Now

If Alistair died (Warden Alistair in my worldstate) it would be tragic in the most greek-theatre-like possible way, because he became the most stable presence in her life since the loss of her family. He's the air she breathes, her compass whenever the morality of a situation gets blurry, the man that made her say "not all men suck" for once. She wants to give him a better future, it's irrelevant if she's involved in it or not.

She knows she's on borrowed time, grasping every minute with what's left of her nails, but he doesn't need to carry such burden. He deserves happiness, he deserves the world. And she wants to give it to him on a silver platter.

If her brother died she would have a plan, but if Alistair died nothing in her life would make sense anymore.

The ask meme

[missyasf]

Game Of Hearts

| 1 |

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 11k

___| Next

Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together! 

Side mention: This could be considered a prequel to the current Alice In Borderland. I’m writing based off the Manga bc I was a glutton and couldn’t wait no spoilers will be present as of...

Escapism

noun

the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy ♡ 

You had known all about this during your short lifespan, as a child you’d often play pretend with your sister that you were movie stars living in a five star hotel rather than the shitty busted up apartment on the wrong side of town. Escapism came in, many forms. It was often a way for people to cope psychologically, simply because sometimes, facing the reality of your situation can be too much for one person to handle mentally. 

Or at least, that was the topic of your lecture today in class. The human mind always fascinated you. Even at the young tender age when your mom died and you watched your once cozy little family fall apart piece by piece until nothing was left in its wake. 

It was your fascination that drove you now for most things, why? Why, why, why? You always wondered what the motive was behind someone’s actions, not only thing but you wanted to  understand them better, to try and sympathize. You were already fairly intuitive in nature. It wasn’t difficult to read people. In fact your line of work made it easy, you’d watch a man who would be excited to be with you reach for his left finger as if used to touching something. A wedding band perhaps? 

The lowlife cheater was fairly common in a whore house after all. Or the man who had been pissy this morning behind you in line because you had decided to try something new on the menu and you weren’t fast enough, obviously because he was tardy and woke up late, his shirt unbeknownst to him was button the wrong way and his tie loose and even the way his hair fell were all signs of being late to work. 

It was the little things you noticed in people’s facial expressions, the way they moved and spoke. You could read people like a book, and sure sometimes it was useful. But you often wished you weren’t so perceptive. It drove you mad knowing when a potential love interest was no longer interested through a simple text or a friend not wanting to talk by their tone. Sometimes you wished you could just blot it all out, still, you lived like this day in and day out, you were used to this kind of thing and honestly. Friends? Love? Your gaze dropped a little to your feet, the pumps you were wearing a jet black and the heel too high for any respectable woman to ever wear. 

...It wasn’t like you ever had any of those in your life and you had struggled to come to terms with the fact that you could survive without that kind of support. Still...it made you envious, the couple happily holding hands on the sidewalk. The group of friends all laughing at a table while they studied. Oftentimes these feelings are muted, but when you’re faced with something you’ve always craved, those muted feelings suddenly become hyperactive in your mind. 

It’s pathetic, honestly. 

“How dare you! You disgusting slut!” 

In this moment however, you were brought back to reality at just what was happening, you squeaked loudly as you dodged the shoe the woman had thrown at you. This was all a regular occurrence, you had a lot of regulars who weren’t the most amazing people but hey, money was money. But along with them they also left a trail which their wives and girlfriends always followed. And then they always blamed you instead of their partner for leaving them for a prostitute despite you never having agreed to anything such as that.

It really wasn’t your fault, you were just trying to make a living while juggling with keeping up your own education, paying your fathers debts, rent and still somehow getting food on the table. What part time college job could provide that?

Prostitution wasn’t a job you would’ve gone into willingly but given the past and your trauma that was already laced in it you had been learning that sometimes because of the trauma we experience, sometimes people go back to that same trauma and actively participate in it as a way of feeling like they’re in control. 

That whatever happened before, would never happen again if you were in control. You weren’t sure if you qualified under this category, trauma came in many forms but the one most used as an example in your class was that a study showed that women who were assaulted often develop a kink for consensual non consent as a way of coping with what happened, except this time, it’s in a controlled environment where it can end the moment they want it too. 

Again, you weren’t sure you fell into this category, but you often wondered if your line of work was intertwined with your earlier memories when you were younger, if anything it brought comfort to you. Much of it, blotted out now simply because your mind couldn’t take it. Trauma expressed through amnesia was also much more common than many thought, and it’s so small, so easy to miss. After all how can you be aware of something if you have no memory of it anymore?

“Security!” Your manager screeched, two of the bodyguards were already between you and the feral woman who was ready to gut you clean as she screamed hysterically, her husband...your regular....at her side trying to get her to calm down only for her to come to her senses and slap him clean across the face. You didn’t condone violence, but he did have it coming...

You weren’t about to justify cheaters, you couldn’t imagine the hurt someone had to feel that not only did their partner cheat on them, but it was with someone...like you...You had been trying not to put down your job occupation, sex workers were just as valid as anyone else...you knew you would’ve thought this way if it was anyone but you in this position. 

You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair, watching the couple get dragged out of the tight space of the brothel, “Jesus christ....didn’t you say you stopped using perfume because of this?” Miki, your manager sighed as she crossed her arms. You didn’t want to say your manager was your friend but she was the closest you had as you’d often complain to her about most of your problems. Sex work often attracted broken people, it wasn’t something she wasn’t used to. 

“Yeah, but apparently he never got around to washing his clothes…” You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, “Lipstick stain,” You glanced down at the ruby pink color that stained your skin now, “Fuck...that did hurt.” You rubbed your sore cheek that was still throbbing from where she had first slapped it when she ripped the door open of the room where she got to see with her own eyes you riding her husband. 

It had happened so many times now you weren’t even embarrassed about someone walking in let alone a partner. Miki gave you a lopsided smile as she patted your shoulder, “Guess that just pays for being one of the best here. Did you at least get paid.” 

You nodded, “Yeah, I always make them pay in advanced but I was hoping to get a tip afterwards...He was a lawyer so you know he had good money.” You sighed, crossing your arms, you were well aware of his partner because a lot of the time he didn’t even come in for sex anymore. It was funny how humans work. 

He often felt his wife was overbearing and you had suspected some sort of verbal abuse by the way he talked about her constant screaming. Truthfully, you don’t think he ever intended on cheating with her. He just wanted someone to talk to without being judged, you could relate with sympathy to that, but he unfortunately chose to walk into a brothel instead of a therapy clinic and this truly was the only inevitable outcome. Still, you hope if for anyone’s sake, he gets that divorce for himself. 

 “Hey I think I’m gonna call it a day. I need to get back to Nanami, she was wanting to talk to me about college applications.” You sighed as you rubbed your neck, ever since she had graduated high school she had been chomping at the bit to start applying for college, maybe to just get out of the house and into a dorm. You couldn’t blame her and if she did that it would lighten your load a little. 

Guilt washed over you at the thought as Miki chuckled, “They grow up pretty fast huh? My brother was the same way, except the moment he found out I was a sex worker was the moment he called me a whore and we haven’t talked since. That was probably about five years ago,” She crossed her arms as she sighed, “Crazy how the things we do for the ones we love, never appreciate our effort...I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

“If I’m not bruising.” You offered a weak smile as you nodded at her before going back to your room to get changed. Truthfully, you much like anyone else, often wished you could go to a world where reality wasn’t a concept any longer. Where you could lay out in the sun for the whole day and just soak up it’s rays with no worries or trepidations. 

But sooner then later everyone had to face their fears. Even you, you supposed. But no matter how hard you fought your demons, they always came back tenfold. Again, you supposed your story was no different from tens of thousands, and yet you all live on regardless. Maybe it’s you who should be the one seeking therapy. Pulling on your jeans and the cropped top over your head before pulling the jacket over your arms and grabbing your bag. 

The walk home was as quiet as ever, your hood over your head and earbuds any unwanted attention, it wasn’t too late at night, only eleven PM and your work had just been getting started but that had ruined the night for you and besides, you had already failed a test today, you could use the sleep tonight. 

Occasionally you’d hear the sirens of  a cop car passing by or a bystander shout, nothing out of the ordinary in this neighborhood. Walking up to the apartment complex you pulled the key from your bag as you unlocked the door. Quietly stepping insides as you shut the door before locking it once more. Your nose wrinkled at the smell of stale air mixed with rotten...something…

If anything, you were always lacking in something, you had been so busy most of the day that you never had time to clean anything leaving the house in a horrible state. Not that you thought this was much of a house. 

Walking down the narrow hallway you opened the rickety door with a missing lock as you gave a brief smile to the small clump of bedsheets. Your sister was curled up and on her phone, eyes darting to the door with a hint of fear before she jumped up, “Y/n! You’re home earlier from night shift already!?” 

You offered a smile as you set down your bag and nodded, sitting down on the mattress that laid on the floor as you replied, “Yeah, a coworker needed the extra hours so I let them cover for me tonight. Besides, you wanted to talk about college applications?” Your sister was under the impression your late night job was bartending at some hole in the wall downtown, where in all actuality you just went there to drink a few days and talk to the loud and sometimes obnoxious, but good hearted bartender who loved talking about his nerdy underaged friends that couldn’t do anything beside stay and drink soda. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t think your sister would accept you, if she knew what you were actually doing. Fear, most times came in many different forms and this was one of them. You simply didn’t want to be judged, even by her. So nobody in your life truly knew who you were, and therefore, how could you hold the expectation for people to accept you into society if you were already self sabotaging yourself? 

All philosophy aside, you were simply a lost soul, looking for your way in the cruel reality called life. 

“Yes!” Nanami was chipper as always as she squealed, clapping her hands, “I…! I was thinking about applying to the university you attend! Maybe I'll get a grant and move into the dorms there? I already applied for several jobs, I’m just waiting on a callback!” 

You offered a small smile as you hugged your knees to your chest, “I think you’d like it there, there’s lots to do around campus. But what will you go in for? The only advice I can offer is be sure it’s what you want to do.” 

Nanami’s face faltered a little as she hummed, “Well...I thought maybe working with animals? I’d love to be an assistant surgeon in veterinarian? I know it’s a pretty...sad job but...I really like the idea of being able to heal such innocent things.” Your smile tugged into a gentle one at your sister. She was too tender for this world.

It had been your goal sense the day your mother died that you took care of your sister, it didn’t matter what happened to you. You could rot for all you cared at the end of the day, all you wanted was to look up and see your sister's smile and her happiness in life blossom. She more than anyone deserved it. 

“I think you’ll be great at it.” You encouraged as you rested your chin on your hand, always happy to see her bounce in excitement as you yawned, your body was used to your demanding schedule but it was always more than happy to welcome a few extra hours of sleep.”

Hearing the door loudly slam close caused you both to jump, Nanami hurriedly crawled back in bed, pretending to be asleep as you frowned. Your dad must’ve come back home from wherever he was. 

“Y/n! Just stay here! Can’t you talk to him later?” Nanami looked scared, she always did when he was around. But you weren’t about to stand down to the bastard any day of the week, you offered a weak smile as you replied. 

“It’s fine Nami, I’ll be just a few minutes.” You replied, you knew that she knew, that was probably a lie. But you’d try your best, for her sake at least. But somebody had to put this guy in his place occasionally and it was always you. It results in a lot of screaming sometimes, other times he’d break down in tears or on a bad occasion you’d get shoved to the ground, a few times hit. Nothing major. 

Walking out of the room you leaned against the wall of the entrance of the hallway watching your father stumble around in the living room, “Did you finally talk to the loan company?” You called out as you asked, not in a forgiving mood tonight. He had said he’d do this for two weeks in a row. The company that sank your whole family into the ground. The reason your mother couldn’t take it anymore and put a blade to her wrist. 

Your father stood up, looking a little wobbly, obviously drunk, “Now listen here little girl I don’t have shit to own to you or anyone else.” You sighed as you tucked your tongue into your cheek, annoyance flowing inside you as you straightened up. You weren’t going to be bullied into being scared of this guy. 

“Actually you do,” Your smile twisted into something more sharp, more bitter and sinister as you walked forward, “See, if you hadn’t of gotten involved in something shady like loan sharks we wouldn’t be drowning in debt and mom wouldn’t have killed herself because of you and both your daughters wouldn’t hate you. I know you drink away all our money in some pathetic attempt to escape from the cold reality that you fucked up your whole life and watched your family slip from your fingers while not even trying to do anything other then put us in further shit,” You closed your eyes as you tilted your head, “But the least you could do, is admit that. You owe us at least that for being a total fuck up.” 

You opened your eyes to find pure rage brewing in your fathers eyes as you smiled once more, this time a false sense of sickly sweet tone to it as you shrugged, “Or you could live in denial, at this point, there really isn’t anything you can do to get anyone back ♡ ” 

You had turned around, planning to tell Nanami that maybe she should go sleep over at a friends house today but you never got the chance, suddenly being slammed into the wall and flecks of spit hitting your face, “I am your fucking father! I deserve respect from you and your worthless sister! Do you know how much I provide for you both?” 

Anger splintered through your veins as you grabbed onto his wrists, his fingers digging into your neck as you squirmed, “Like fucking what!? A shitty broken down apartment that your vacant from because you’re too fucking ashamed of yourself to even look at us sober!?” 

Much like years in the past you weren’t surprised to hear Nanami cry as she rushed out of the room at the sound of you both screaming, “Stop!” She cried out, trying to break you both up, “Stop! Don’t fight! Why…! Why can’t we all just get along!” She sobbed only for your dad to shove her down making her curl up in defeat. 

Alarm bells were triggered in your head at the sight of Nanami on the ground, she had never actually gotten hurt while in your sight and it was triggering something deep inside you as you watched him stalk up to her. Your hands shaking and rage boiling in your mind as you grabbed the closet thing you could find. An empty beer bottle on the table. 

Your vision blurred and you don’t quite remember what happened other than glass shattering over his head and the brute force of you shoving something before blood was stained on your hands. 

How did you end up sitting against the wall? Why was there….blood on your hands…? Your fingers trembled at the metallic sticky substance. All you could hear were Nanami’s sobs and cries as she frantically pushed herself away from the body slumped on the ground. 

“You…! He…!” Nanami’s eyes brimmed with tears as you heard a loud boom making you jump, your eyes darting to the open window where….fireworks, big and bold crashed and crackled before you felt like you were sucked into a vortex making your whole vision black out. 

Your head felt fuzzy and there was ringing in your ears as you groaned, curling up into yourself as the darkness beckoned you closer before you forcibly opened your eyes. You were laying against the hardwood floor. Beams of light streaked through the window and you could see dust particles in the air against the shower of sunshine that streamed in. 

...Wait...Light? The thought had perplexed your head enough to make you push up from the ground, memories pulling into your mind as your breath became shallow, suddenly looking to the side where...you slumped against the wall. It must’ve just been a bad dream….your eyes flickered to Nanami’s curled up figure...a really vivid dream…? Something wrenched in your gut as you rubbed your eyes. What happened? “Nami…!” You whispered, forcing your muscles to move despite their protest as she whined. 

After another moment she reluctantly opened her eyes, flickering around before she suddenly scrambled up, taking a deep breath as if realizing what had happened before, looking towards where your dad once was she frowned, “...I...What…” She seemed just as perplexed as you and if her face was anything to go by, last night had obviously happened, “Is dad…” She looked at the absent place of the floor. 

Leaning against the wall your eyes darted around the room, “I guess so…” You silently felt relief at knowing your dad was still very much alive as you leaned back as you closed your eyes, trying to remember what had happened before everything went dark...oh..! The fireworks...had it been a celebration last night? Your brows pinched together, something felt...off...getting up you opened the door to the apartment walking out. 

“Y/n? Y/n! Hey! Where are you going!” Nanami called out, quickly chasing after you as you frowned, cars were parked odd and there was no one out on the street...as in...at all...Something was very wrong and you couldn’t figure out what. 

“Wow...it..must be a slow day…” Nanami felt a sense of discomfort at the lack of life as you both walked down the side walk, it didn’t just feel like a slow day it felt, apocalyptic. As if humanity just left on it’s own leaving nothing but an empty city behind. Cars were parked on the curb and a few even left in the street.

“No, it’s like everyone vanished...This is really weird.” You wrapped your arms around yourself as you frowned, looking around as you came closer to where typically it would be a booming part of the downtown but it was empty, just as everything before. 

“Well, maybe it’s a national holiday?” Nanami rubbed her head, trying to make sense of the situation just as much as you, surely everyone wasn’t...gone...right? She looked around as she bit her lip, second guessing herself at all the cars that were vacant, “Hey Y/n.” 

You paused as you looked at your sister, curving an eyebrow as she offered a weak smile, “What if everyone got raptured away like they talk about in christanity?” Your expression flattened as she giggled, obviously getting a rise out of you as you crossed your arms. 

Raptured? Where? To heaven? “Wouldn’t it be fire and brimstone then if that was the case?” Nanami pouted at your words as you shrugged, snickering yourself at her expression, the tables now turned as you sighed, “I don’t think there’s anyone left in Tokyo...I mean, it feels like...we’d have seen someone by now...right?” 

“Well…” Nanami frowned once more, a little disturbed at your words as she spoke, “There’s no way everyone could be gone I mean, where would they go? And how could we miss something like that...Maybe the police found us and now we’re under some weird simulation.” 

Chills spilled down your spine as you shoved her making her whine, “Don’t say that! That makes me feel all weird…! I didn’t…!” You cut yourself off, you didn’t what? Murder your own dad in cold blood...you looked down at your hands, they were free of any blood but it still felt like something like sin lingered. Like no matter where you went, it would always be stuck to you.

You didn’t like this, not one bit. Briefly you felt the urge to go hunt down your dad, he was a deadbeat but you would never...you’d never kill him....Right?

“Well…” Nanami hummed her eyes scanning ahead before they jumped to the mall that was up ahead, “Hey…! If nobody is here...maybe we could make use of it! Come on! Let's go!” You yelped at her grabbing your arm before dragging you ahead. Cars were all parked and yet not a single person exited through the mall's entrance. Something just felt off! You wrapped your arms around yourself as you warily looked around the empty mall, “Nanami I really don’t like this!” You looked around, concern bubbling inside you as she ran ahead into the store, digging through the section of clothes as she giggled. 

“Relax! I doubt any of this is real and even so…! Who’s going to stop us!?” She shrugged as she bounced in excitement, “Oh my god! I had dreamed of something like this happening! Now we can do whatever we want! Go wherever we want! Y/n!” She gasped with a smile, “Now we don’t even have to worry about money!” 

“We don’t even know if this is permanent.” You looked around warily, not partaking as she began plucking off the racks, “Regardless of what this is, I don’t like it. I want to go back home, our home. This just doesn’t…” You shook your head, “This just doesn’t feel right.” 

“Well you can feel that way!” Nanami clacked her tongue as she gave a childish smile, “But I’m gonna go through this whole store and get a new wardrobe so feel free to sit on the bench and tell me what you think looks good!” 

Looking away you sighed, unable to pinch the anxious feeling you had away as you sat down reluctantly as Nanami went into the changing room. Well...at least she was smiling and she was happy...With each outfit Nanami tried out and giggled, you giggled with her and maybe things weren’t so bad after all…

“What a perfect day.” Nanami hugged you close as she sighed, yawning as you looked up at the sky in awe, you had seen a single star while living in Tokyo before, but now it was filled with constellations and millions of stars that stretched for miles. You could stare at it for days and days. The sun had just set a little over half an hour ago and you were ready to retire and find something to eat at the apartment. 

You and Nanami had tried going to the food court but much to your dismay everything had been...rotten...soiled and ruined, meaning there was no point in trying to find anything there and you were getting really hungry despite devouring bags of chips you had both got at the convenient store, another thing that stood out to you was that there was no electricity...at all..

Looking back up to the sidewalk something caught your eyes...was that…! Light!? “Hey! Nanami look!” You shook her making her squeak as she looked up ahead, “It’s the hospital! They have electricity there which means there’s other people! Of course! Why didn’t we think to check essential areas!? Come on! Lets go! I wanna figure out what happened.” 

“Alright! It sucks that this is already over but at least I can finally charge my phone, the battery is pretty low.” Nanami nodded in agreement as you both made your way up the road. 

The walk wasn’t too far and you felt excitement fill you at the sight of the hospital all lit up as you walked into the entrance, a frown slowly setting on your lips once more as you walked past the receptionist desk and…! Oh there’s other people! 

You felt relief wash over your as you ran up, there were at least seven other other people here at least! “Hey! Guys oh my god. I thought everyone was gone! What’s going on?” You asked, smiling bright in relief that you and Nanami weren’t the only ones left behind. Was this some kind of evac point or…?

Silence ensued and you slowly began to frown as you felt everyone stare at you as if you were insane, “Um…” You wrapped a hand around your arm, suddenly feeling as if everyone knew something you didn’t, “What’s going on…?” You furrowed your brows as you tilted your head, unsure of why everyone was looking at you like this. 

Somebody looked like they were going to talk to you, a guy relatively around your age but a woman stopped him- his girlfriend maybe? “Stop, the less that know the better chance we have.” She said quietly though you still heard just enough. Fear twisted inside you as you took a cautious step back...The...the less you knew? 

“Wow, you guys are assholes,” A girl suddenly whistled out, she was sitting in a waiting chair, a cowboy hat on her head paired with distressed jeans and...a bikini top? Strange but you’d roll with it if it meant getting answers. She stood up as she offered a smile, “Akari, nice to meet ya’. You folk must be new to the Borderlands huh?” She jutted her bottom lip a little as you frowned. 

“Um I’m Y/n and this is my sister Nanami...?” You introduced yourself despite feeling confused as you raised a brow, “Borderlands…?” You echoed, what was that supposed to be? Other than Tokyo?

Akari gave a nod as she let out a brief chuckle, as if amused by your confusion but you sensed she had no real ill will unlike....your eyes checked to the couple that stood off in the corner on their own, “That’s what they call it here,” She nodded in affirmation as your eyes darted back to her in confusion, “To be frank with ya’, I don’t have a damn clue what's going on. Nobody does. But ever since you crossed the threshold there’s no going back, so I’ll be brief. We’re all considered outsiders here and we participate in games at venues such as this to extend our stay.”

Nanami and you looked at one another confused as Akari waved you over to the table in front of a TV, “Here, you’ll wanna put these on, it’s for the game.” She explained as you carefully picked up the metal bracelet, something about it felt ominous as you reluctantly put it on, jumping at the way it latched together and there was no getting it off now, “Word of advice, just don’t panic and you probably won’t die.” 

“What?!” You screeched as Akari smacked your back, panic evident in your voice as you turned around to face her making her laugh again, this girl was insane! She had to be! “You’re…! You’re joking!” 

Akari wrinkled her nose as she tilted her head, “Ah shit, I wish I was- Oh…! There’s the last player!” Just on que everyone turned to look at who had arrived, someone heaving breaths with their hands on their knees as if they had sprinted. You were mildly worried at why he seemed so scared but you had a feeling that was the least of your problems right now.

“Y/n what’s going on…?” Nanami frightened grabbed your arm as she hid a little behind you due to all these immensing strangers that looked like they were ready to feed you to the sharks, literally. 

The guy walked past you both as he put on his bracelet, your eyes sharp as you watched it latch together automatically, your gaze jumping to everyone's wrists to notice you were all now wearing one. The TV suddenly lit up. 

Game 

You squinted your eyes a little at the sight of the screen, just what were you about to unwillingly participate in…?

Difficulty: 5♣

“The game you will be participating in is, Monster under the bed.”

A playing card? Monster under the bed? Your brows furrowed as you looked at Nanami who shrugged a little despite her concerned expression, looking just as confused as you. You could’ve made a joke out of this, surely it would’ve been easier. Maybe everyone would bust out laughing and you’d be at the end of a poor joke but...somehow you felt that wasn’t the case. Thus paying very close attention to whatever was on this screen, 

“Everyone will be sectioned off into pairs by the number chosen on your bracelet, when the doors to the ward open you will have three rounds ten minutes each to figure out who is the monster under the bed that must be returned to its own, once the ten minutes is up you must hide before you are found. If the selected pair that is the monster is chosen correctly it’s a Game Clear.  If the monster is not found by the end of the third round or if the pair fails to hide it’s a Game Over.” 

Rules: 

Once the doors are open you and your partner must find a hiding spot by the time limit

Both partners must be hidden. If one is exposed to the monster it’s a Game Over for both partners

There will be an X marked on the ground to place the monster of your guess onto. 

You will have three rounds of ten minutes each to find the monster.

Any attempt to remove bracelets results in a Game Over

If the monster is not found by the third round a Game Over.

The only Game Clear condition required is for the monster to be returned by the third round.

What…

What!? 

“Now the game will commence, you have five minutes to figure out who you have been paired up with before the doors open.”

Your mind was blanking as you watched everyone look down at their bracelet, hurriedly you lifted your arm as your mind blanked 2 looking back at Nanami her lips were already quivering as she sniffled lifting her arm in defeat as your lips dropped open, 5.

“Hey! Guess you’re my partner!” Akari grinned as she wrapped an arm around Nanami who sniffled, “Oh…” She looked between you both, “Oh! Oh don’t worry! We’re not the monster so I’ll make sure your sister lives! You should go find your partner.” 

Your hands trembled unsure of what to do before you went to hug Nanami, “Whatever happens just stay calm okay! I need to go find my partner now!” You whispered, kissing her cheek as she sniffled while nodding. 

Everybody was shuffling around looking for their partner now, you passed by a few people, 4, 1, 3...did you even have a partner…? You scanned around, your throat tightening a little in panic, there had to be a mistake! There were only 8 people surrounding you- you yelped at the tight grip that suddenly held your arm forcing you to turn around to be met with a white hooded figure, a lollipop handle hanging and earbuds in before sighing, “So it appears I’m stuck with someone useless.” The man concluded as he stood up making you back away a little as your lips parted somewhat indignantly. 

How...how rude! You looked up, unable to fully make out his face but you could tell you didn’t like him one bit, “I’ll…! First of all I’m not useless! I’m just trying to understand what's going on! This is insane! We aren’t actually going to die from this, are we!?” Pushing his hood down you were immediately met with a snide gaze and cat eyes that leered at you like you were nothing more then dirt beneath his feet, long blonde hair pushed behind his shoulders and his bangs hanging low, suddenly a viscous side smile appeared on his lips, “Apparently so, otherwise I wouldn’t have watched half my last game get their brains blown out and the other half hung.” 

You reeled a little away from the blonde, your face dropped in semi horror, unsure if this was just a sick joke or he was serious. You searched his face a thousand times over, but for the first time in your life, you couldn’t figure out what his goal was. You couldn’t figure out anything about him, except he was exceptionally cold, “Well I don’t suppose I have much choice to doubt you,” He said with an annoying sing song tone as he rattled his wrist that showed the bracelet with a matching 2 on it, “My name is Chishiya, just stay out of my way and we’ll both live.” 

How arrogant! You scoffed as he walked past you, not the least bit bothered at your offense as you whipped around, glaring at his back. How come out of everyone you got stuck with the most…! Pompous! Arrogant! Ugh! You crossed your arms as you followed behind him, stilling secretly sending daggers into his back with your eyes as everyone shuffled into the ward. 

Hospital beds were scattered around the room, a few closets and one large vent at the bottom right corner of the room ahead. 

“Wait, what is this?” The first person to speak was a fair thin older gentleman, he appeared friendly as he observed the room around him, everyone looked around in confusion as you noticed what he meant. 

Any possible hiding spot was covered by either sheets of metal or locked tight...How were any of you supposed to hide if…!? The rules mentioned nothing about solving puzzles to gain access to a hiding spot!

“Forget that,” Another man said with a sneer he was broad and a bit older, well into his late twenties at least, perhaps a gym coach? Or maybe a wrestler of some sort? He looked like he could break you and nearly every other person in this room like a twig, “We need to figure out who’s the monster. “ He cracked his knuckles as you leered a little away and nobody spoke for a second. 

Of course, who would out themselves as the monster, more importantly, how does one even know they’re the monster? You could immediately feel tension rise as the previous, more patient man spoke, a little more collected, “How about we just check one another's’ watches! If anywhere it would show us on that! One pair should work on solving these puzzles here so everyone has a place to hide” 

“Unless the monster is among us and it sabotages us so we all die by the time limit.” The girlfriend crossed her arms as she darted her eyes around. Truthfully you didn’t know what to believe, the wording on the soundbox was rather confusing as to just what were you looking for. Was the monster supposed to be in the group or it’s own entity?

“If that were the case it would’ve showed up on our watches, which it didn’t. So that won’t work.” Chishiya spoke matter of fact, his tone cool as his eyes gazed across the room before he walked away from the group inspecting various hiding spots granted you didn’t think he was about to help anyone but himself, if anything you were at least lucky that him securing a hiding spot meant it was one for you as well. 

You looked at everyone in confusion, some arguing while others scattered to look for a hiding spot as the clock ticked down. You breathed in relief at the sight of Nanami and Akari both going for a bed to hide under. Your gaze finally found Chishiya’s form before following him, unsure of what you were supposed to do, if anything outside trying to figure out just what the monster even was. 

You glanced up at the digital clock that stood above the entrance you had just come in from, it was already a minute in before you searched the floor where you found a red X in the center of the room, that must’ve been the...what? Offering spot? You cringed a little at the idea. Looking forward you peered behind Chishiya’s shoulder deciding to not think about that, it seemed the metal sheet that had wrapped around the bed and was sealed to the ground was locked by some sort of metal device…? Contraption? Lock?

“Isn’t hiding under a bed a bit obvious…?” You frowned as you crossed your arms, unsure as you looked behind your shoulder once more to where accusations were already being thrown in the group. 

“The vent is a decoy to make you waste time, I already checked,” Chishiya replied, his fingers nimble as they rattled the metal, “And even if someone were to accomplish it in the time limit it’s the most obvious spot the monster would first check. Next would be the closet given it’s at eye level and the first thing one is drawn too when they walk into a room.” 

Your lips parted a little in surprise at his assessment...obviously he wasn’t just overconfident, “And why this spot?” If he had really thought about all this in less than a minute then...did he have a reason for this spot? You now found yourself, slightly less annoyed and a little more curious as to what was going on in his mind. 

“If the monster were to check a bed it would be after his eyes are drawn to the closet. Next in that line of sight would be the vent directly across it, which would be his next place to look if not his first and vice versa. The beds are all staggered throughout the room making them less conspicuous compared to the other hiding places, the bed on the far end of the room would be no good.” 

Your brows furrowed in curiosity at his assessment as you watched Chishiya blow a piece of hair from his face, wiggling out one piece of the knotted metal, “It’s too far from the entrance where as the one in the middle is by average the one most people would start with, where as the first? It’s almost too soon in the start to look there thus making it the safest.” 

“It’s them! They’re over there conspiring!” You both twisted around to watch the broad man point an accusing finger at you both as your eyes darted from him to the clock on the wall, which read at six minutes. A few other pairs, relievingly so was your sister had started working on a hiding spot while a few others stood around and argued. 

Your face coiled a little as you replied, not appreciating the accusation to such a baseless accusation, did they not realize the longer they argued the less time they had to secure a hiding spot? “Someone who’s terrible at playing the minority would often be the first to point fingers. There’s only six minutes left before the first round is over and we need to hide. But if you want to talk about this then sure,” 

You stepped closer as you crossed your arms, scanning over him before continuing, “Let’s talk about the chances of you being the monster, ever since you first came in you’ve been all twitchy and acting like something is wrong. Even when we first got paired up, you seemed a little panicked. Anyways,” You turned around as you spoke, “How do we know one pair is a monster and not one single person?” 

“Eh,” Akari sat on the bed that her and Nanami chose as Nanami fumbled to work out the puzzle, she had always been good at those! You felt assured as your heart beat frantically at the idea of them not being able to get a hiding spot in time, “Let’s all calm down,” She gave an awkward laugh, “This isn’t a hearts game, we shouldn’t divide our trust. This is a team building after all which means this game should be making us work together, the last thing we need to do is throw that away on our own accord.” 

“...Team building?” You frowned as you murmured having not been aware that this was some sort of game category...Hearts? Clubs? The memory of the playing card flashing on the screen appeared in your mind again, right...was that to stand for some kind of game genre? If Clubs stood for team building then...there should be no reason that the monster is any of you. Why would they even suggest that to begin with?

Then...what was the monster? 

“One minute remaining.”

The lights suddenly began flickering, “Got it.” Chishiya yanked the last piece of metal undone as he pulled the sheet of metal off, everyone was now scrambling and the few who had not done their puzzle were now panicking. Getting down you crawled under the bed, your back flat to the ground as you inhaled sharply as you noticed the lights beginning to dim, “This is...uncomfortable.” You mumbled, trying to ignore being pressed shoulder to shoulder with a man you didn’t even know besides him having a god complex, “We should’ve went with the vent.” 

“By all means, if you want to try and get yourself killed already. Go for it.” You turned to look at him, dark endless cat eyes meeting you as you harshly glared at him, why was he so condescending!? 

You were about to snap back something before you realized it was completely dark and the door slammed open causing you to jump. Was your heart always this loud? You could see the heavy boots step against the ground making you unsteadily inhale, swallowing as you closed your eyes. You could only place your trust that Chishiya hadn’t picked a horrible spot. 

More importantly your mind was plagued with worry for your sister, you had been so caught up you hadn’t even tried to help her yet...did she even…! You heard a sudden loud scream from two people causing you to stiffen as you looked up at the bed frame lined with wooden planks. You could only cower back down at blood suddenly painting the floor.

Your stomach suddenly churned as you covered your mouth. So he wasn’t lying. Chishiya however looked just as nonpulsed as he did when he first told you himself, his eyes blankly staring up at the bed frame as if this was just a regular game of hide and seek as people screamed as they were torn apart. 

Or that’s at least what you assumed it was. 

After an agonizing few minutes the doors finally closed and the lights flickered back on making you breath in relief as you waited a moment, could you even bear to face what was waiting on the floor? You winced a little before something caught your eye. What was with all this extra wood stuck in the frame? 

Chishiya had already gotten out from under the bed and before you suddenly heard a few girls scream, your sister among them making you puff and breath as you scrambled from beneath the bed.

Standing up your mouth agape at the horrid sight of the female and the broad male that had been too focused on accusing others, they didn’t have...enough time...it looked like they had been completely mutilated, blood pouring on the floor and the smell made you want to gag as you looked away. 

“Well, now what do we do.” Akari scratched her head, also not looking phased that two people had just been brutally killed. Your eyes stayed placed on the bodies before they slowly trailed to your hands, the memory of blood staining them still fresh in your mind. 

“Well we have to figure out where the monster is?” The girlfriend of the couple spoke up, she looked around somewhat suspiciously, “But I’m not sure where we could find it? Maybe it has to do with the bracelets? Maybe there’s a clue hidden.” 

“Oh what about in the cabinets?” The collected man from before offered as he went to search the cabinets, your frown furthered as you glanced around. Everyone was now getting along, still on edge but along at least. 

Chishiya only leaned against the wall, his hands in his pocket as he rolled the lollipop in his mouth, his gaze the same steely one it was before as if he had done his job in securing his temporary salvation and was now done. 

Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do? It was obvious his strength didn’t lie in teamwork, clearly. But then again, you weren’t sure what was going on, you couldn’t get a read on him. Crossing your arms you stayed beside him, your eyes briefly washing over your sister who was working Akari to dig through a desk together. 

“Cabinets and drawers are too obvious.” 

Chishiya’s eyes flickered to your figure, his expression just as cold if not...a little smug maybe? He said nothing in return as you continued, “If we’re looking for a monster, it’s obvious it’s a metaphor for something. Inanimate most likely,” Your eyes flickered around the room, inhaling sharply, why did it feel like the answer was right in front of you? 

Think…! You glanced at the clock, only six minutes left. The rounds were really short…! “It’d be something small and inconspicuous, something that’s in plain sight….but easy to miss...and the game said it was a pair which means there’s more than likely two.” 

“Three,” You glanced at Chishiya as he spoke, pulling the lollipop from his mouth, that permanent smug look on his face as he answered, “Two is what they want you to think and if you spend a round searching for each like they hope it’s game over by three.” 

You rubbed your neck as you frowned, “It’s already the second round and we haven’t even found one…” You glanced around before you suddenly perked up, “Wait…!” Getting back down on the floor you laid on your back as you pushed yourself under the bed, “Chishiya! Help me get this thing out!” 

Within a moment the blonde appeared as well, his eye sharp and keen as they noticed straight away what you were tugging at, “You think this is the monster?” 

You looked at him as you raised a brow, “We have less than four minutes left on our second round, you have a better idea?” Chishiya said no more but helped regardless, successfully with the both of you maneuvering it around from beneath the wooden boards you managed to get it out. 

Holding it up you looked at it, “It’s a poppet doll.” You turned to face him as you smiled in accomplishment, “They’re typically used as curses to place upon people in folklore. If anything is a monster, this would be it.” 

Excited at your first victory you pulled out from beneath the bed as you waved it up, “Hey guys! We need to start looking for something similar to this! If not a replica.” Everyone huddled around you examining the doll before the microphone sounded, “One minute remaining.”

Everyone had immediately scrambled back to their hiding place as you ran to the red X, placing the poppet on it, that's the reason that had to be there right!? You’d just have to see, hurriedly you ran back to your spot under the bed. Making it just in time as the lights flickered off. 

The door slamming open once more as you slowly inhaled, it had to work right? If not...then you were at a loss for what to search for and you were utterly screwed. 

The boots stomped against the floor past the bed as you closed your eyes, unable to calm yourself. After a moment you heard a screech and something rip open before screams followed making you jump. Chishiya’s eyes were on the feet that stood by the closet that had been obviously ripped open. 

You heard the sound of something wet and a gurgle before a body slumped to the floor and you could hear begging before something got snapped in half causing you to close your eyes once more...Did you make it angry!? Was that not it? Fuck. You had never felt this stressed before as it roamed around, passing in front of your bed as you tensed.

Was this your last moment alive? Truly? 

Much to your relief, the door closed once more before the lights followed, flickering on, relaxing a little you sighed as you reluctantly got out from underneath the bed with Chishiya to see what had happened. Much to your horror it was the man who had been so kind this whole game and his partner. 

The monster didn’t check anywhere in the first round, yet he did this round? You tried to block out the bodies slumped in the corner as you glanced at the red X, the poppet doll gone. 

“Why- why were they killed!” Nanami’s eyes began to water as she grabbed her head, “This makes no sense!” 

“If it accepts the doll that means we only need two more. What happened to them is irrelevant.” Chishiya stuffed his hands back into his pocket as you glared at him sideways, not appreciating his careless tone. You could deal with it, but you didn’t want your sister dragged into it. 

Grabbing your chin you thought about it for a moment, “Well...the game said to return the monster to its own and…” You glance down at the X, was there some kind of unsaid rule that if you didn’t get all three of them on the first try that it would start hunting down players? “How would a mother feel if they only returned one of its children?” 

“This thing doesn’t have feelings,” The girlfriend of the partners replied coldly, her eyes like steel of her own as she clung to her boyfriend, “It’s as he said,” She waved to Chishiya, “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be like them if we don’t figure this out.” 

You glanced around the room, “Tell me this, if it doesn’t matter, then why did they give us all these different hiding spots?” Everyone was silent, all eyes on you as if your question didn’t make any sense, your eyes flickered to the clock that was nearing eight minutes, you didn’t have time to monologue, “No think about it. The monster never intended to look for us- that was never stated in the rules. So why did they give us all of these choices if we only needed one per pair? My point being, if we found one poppet in our hiding spot then...You get where I’m going with this? Chishiya.” 

He glanced up at you acknowledgement as you curved a brow, your lips threatening to tug into a smile as you tilted your head, “How confident are you in solving that vent?” 

He glanced back down and for the first time, you watch a cocky wide smirk twist onto his lips, “You’re lucky to have someone as smart as me here to be able to open it.” You tucked your tongue into your cheek as in annoyance as he sauntered over to the vent already getting to work, “As for everyone else, we need to open up as many of these as possible to find the other two.” 

Everyone immediately scrambled to get to work, with only seven minutes on the clock this was...going to be difficult. First Nanami and Akari searched all the opened spots as you worked on another bed. Rubbing your head as muttered, “Shit...I never was good with puzzles.” You awkwardly hung your head in defeat temporarily, briefly letting your eyes shift to Chishiya who was fiddling with several locks, his gaze sharp and you couldn’t even imagine all the calculations going on in his mind. You were somewhat envious of what it would be like to be that perceptive to anything adhering to logic and solution. 

“Aha! Found one!” Akari yanked the poppet from the top of the closest as Nanami covered her mouth, looking like she was gonna throw up being so close to so many dead bodies. You ignored the grisly sight at the second victory of the poppet doll. Akari quickly placed it on the X as you began to work on the puzzle once more, looking up at the clock. Oh no...Oh no there was only three minutes left!

“Chishiya! Hows that puzzle coming along.” You called out, trying not to sound alarmed but you could see the clear cut annoyance on his face as he continued working through the locks, “If you’d like to help while struggling on a novice lock feel free.” He replied condescendingly, not appreciating the pressure. 

You rolled your eyes with huff as you finally managed to get it undone, feeling triumphant as you searched under the bed but there was no luck, “There’s nothing here!”

“Or here!” 

Several people called out as well as you rubbed your head, standing up, “If the only other place that hasn’t been searched is the vent then maybe there’s only two? It did say a pair.” You felt a lump of anxiety well in your chest at the sight of the clock ticking close to a minute and half. 

“Should we really take the risk?” The boyfriend asked as he rubbed his neck, concern on his face as he looked around, “If we’re wrong then we’ll all…” 

You hadn’t even thought of that…

“...! Hey.” You turned to Chishiya who seemed to be trying to get your attention making you immediately come over, if he was asking for you it’d have to be for something important given there was nearly less then two minute on the clock, “Hold this right here.” He immediately pushed your hand onto the lock right where he wanted it, “This is a two handle mechanism meaning that there needs to be two people unlocking it. Push down and out at the same time.”

“Hide! Everyone needs to hide now!”

The lights were beginning to flicker as everyone scrambled to hide, stress evidently put on your shoulders now more than ever. You could only hope he was right with your life on the line, “Now!” You pushed down on your side, the lock sliding as you pulled out, pulling a piece of metal holding up the lock directly out as Chishiya did the same with his side. 

The lock fell off as well as the metal of the gate of the vent, you immediately with no hesitation leaned inside it was dark and hard to make it out anything besides the steep drop off. So he was right, this was a waste of time for a hiding place. 

Looking down you caught sight of wood before laughing in relief, “It’s here! Wait shit! Chishiya! It’s too far down in the vent, you’re gonna have to lower me down to reach it. Time?” 

“Forty five seconds.” You felt unfamiliar hands on your hips lifting you up as you were lowered down, “We have time.” 

You squinted trying to see as you reached down, “Lower me further! I’m not quite in reach,” Your muscles began to ache in your shoulder as you reached harder, growling in frustration, “Time!?” You were lowered a little further, the wooden poppet brushing against your fingers. 

“Thirty seconds! Could you go a little faster?” 

“Could you lower me a little quicker- Ah! Hey did you almost let go!?” You snarled back, grabbing the poppet doll, giving a good yank as it lodged in between the crevice it was in, “Get me back up! I got it. Time!” 

“Twenty seconds.” Chishiya called back, pulling you up as you gasped, pain from the metal jabbing into your stomach evident as you were met with a darkening room. Setting your feet firmly on the floor your eyes flew to the flock fifteen seconds and your spot was all the way across the room….! 

“Where are we supposed to hide!? We can’t get all the way there in time!” You hissed out running to the X as you dropped the poppet down. The lights shut off as the final five seconds counted down and before you could do anything you were shoved to the floor as you squeaked. Your body throbbing in pain and your mouth immediately covered as you were met with the coverage of a bed but neither one of you were bold enough to try and scramble beneath it as the doors slammed open. 

Fuck.

Your whole body was tense as your eyes squeezed shut, you were just a little ahead of the X here, if this is all the poppet dolls...they’d have no reason to go further into the room...unless...Your hand squeezed tight around the wrist of the hand that covered your mouth as you tried to calm yourself at the loud thudded footsteps. 

It was quiet for a moment before you heard more walking before the doors closed. 

“Game Cleared”

The lights turned on as you fell limp against the side of the bed, Chishiya’s hand removed from mouth as you pushed your hair from your face, closing your eyes as you breathed in relief, “Holy shit.” Was all you could mutter to yourself, you had never been more grateful to breathe air in your whole life. 

“I guess you weren’t that useless after all huh.” Chishiya clacked his tongue as you turned your head to look at him, raising your brows as your face contorted into something between insult and amusement. 

You’ve only known this man for a half an hour and yet...something about his words, if you dug down deep past that smug expression of his, was this a compliment? Looking away you pressed your tongue into your cheek, trying to keep from smiling, “Yeah, and you’re still conceited and arrogant but, I guess you have a good reason to be.” You glanced back at him again but you could hardly hold his gaze, something in that brief moment was electrified between you both as you laughed somewhat sheepishly, closing your eyes as you looked away once more. 

What the fuck was even wrong with you? If this was back before today you would’ve totally kicked this guy in the balls and went about your day.

“Y/n!” You straightened up at the sound of Nanami’s voice, your expression brightening as you stood up, quickly running to her as you hugged her tight, “I can’t believe that just happened…” She whispered to you as she pressed her face into your neck. You couldn’t either but, you were thankful you had survived this game. Whatever it was. 

“Come on, let's get out of this room.” You tugged on her arm, no longer wanting to be in this death room despite knowing it was all over. Pulling her out you paused at the sight of the TV and a...register…? You bracelet unlocked as you took it off, tossing it on the table as you tilted your head. 

“Congratulations Game ''Clear ``.''

“...Now issuing visas to those who survived the game…?” You furrowed your brows as you glanced at Nanami who rubbed her head in confusion. You grabbed the receipt as you looked it over with a frown before picking up the 5 of clubs playing card along with it. Odd. 

“It’s how many days you’re allowed to stay now! Almost a whole week, that's a good score for a first game!” Akari called out as she patted your back making you jump a little. 

Almost a whole week…”Until we have to play again to...continue our stay?” You raised a brow, deciding not to ask what happens if you refused. While you had many questions, you had a feeling you knew the answer to that one. 

A part of you couldn’t even believe this had happened, or was it all still a dream. 

“Hey…! Sorry for all of that in there,” You turned to see...oh…! It was the boyfriend of the partner, the gifrlfriend stayed behind looking brooding, “I’m Ryu and that’s my girlfriend Hiroko I was...ah…” He faltered a little, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flittered to his girlfriend who was glaring him down, “You should stop by the Beach- I...I think you guys would make good additions! Bye!” He hurried not even finishing his original sentence before scurrying off making you furrow your brows at what he even meant. 

“The hell?” Akari raised a brow as she watched the guy run off, “Seems to me he wanted to chat more…guess we know who's really pulling balls in that relationship.” 

Nanami suddenly snickered, covering her mouth as she giggled, “Hey Akari! Why don’t we stay together! We did really well in the game together!” 

“Awh shit, if you guys really want me too!” Akari offered a quirky smile as you laughed, you had no problems with someone staying behind with you. Looking past Akari your smile faded a little at the sight of a white hoodie exiting the entrance. 

“Hey- I’ll be right back!” You pushed past the both of them who paid you no mind as you pushed out of the exit and down the stone steps, not sure why your feet were making you chase after such an egotistical man but…!

“Chishiya!” You called out, making the man pause, he turned around, pulling the earbuds out as he glanced up from his hoodie, raising his brows in acknowledgement, “Um…” Why did you even chase after him…? You stepped down the last step as you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

It was silent for a moment as you berated yourself internally for why you seemed so speechless all of a sudden. Chishiya however didn’t seem to mind, his eyes absent now as he stared up at the hospital, “I used to do my clinical rotations here.” 

You were broken out of your silent thrashing of internal humiliation as you raised your brows, lips parting in curiosity as you asked, “You were a doctor?” 

“No,” Chishiya snorted, that amused calico look of his on his face once more as he looked down at you, “I was a medical student. Training to be a doctor but that obviously didn’t happen…” His lips curved into a frown, his eyes cold once more as they looked back up at the building, “I came here tonight to see if anyone I knew would be here.” 

“Oh…” You looked away, feeling somewhat awkward and unsure of how to reply to him as silence took over once more beside the occasional rustling of the wind in the tree’s, the urge to speak overtaking you to the point you couldn't resist, “Chishiya...I…” You looked away, feeling somewhat bashful, “We...made a really good team back there.” You forced yourself to look up at him as you offered a bright yet subtly shy smile, “If you want...you could stay with us…?” 

Chishiya pulled the lollipop stick from his mouth, letting it drop to the ground as he spoke, “No thanks.” You turned to him in surprise as you frowned a little, you shouldn’t have expected anything less…

“Oh...I understand.” You offered a weak smile as he turned his back on you and began to walk once more, “I just have one more question,” You called out causing him to pause, “...Do you by any chance know about a place called the Beach?”

Note: Whew...! As a lurker in the Alice in borderland fandom I saw a lot of people complaining about the lack of Chishiya fics so I decided to volunteer myself and take on for the team to write a series for this little blonde fucker so PLEASE let me know your thoughts and I hope you enjoy!! Also

[bobasheebaby]

Grey’s Anatomy Prompts

I’m going a tad stir crazy, so I decided to make a prompt list of 80 Grey’s quotes I love. This may have been done before but I don’t care. It’s mostly angsty prompts and it’s long as hell. (Break at 15)

1 “When I met you, I thought I had found the person that I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I was done. So all the boys, and all the bars, and all the obvious daddy issues, who cared? Because I was done. You left me. You chose Addison. I’m all glued back together now. I make no apologies for how I chose to repair what you broke.” —Meredith Grey

2 “Don’t let what he wants eclipse what you need. He’s very dreamy, but he is not the sun—you are.” —Cristina Yang

3 “Your choice, it’s simple: her or me? And I’m sure she’s really great. But I love you. In a really, really big pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window, unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. So pick me, choose me, love me.” —Meredith Grey

4 “If you love someone, you tell them. Even if you’re scared that it’s not the right thing. Even if you’re scared that it’ll cause problems. Even if you’re scared that it will burn your life to the ground, you say it, and you say it loud and you go from there.” —Mark Sloan

5 “It always feels like there is just one person in this world to love. And then you find somebody else, and it just seems crazy that you were ever worried in the first place.” —Lexie Grey

6 “Don’t let fear keep you quiet. You have a voice, so use it. Speak up. Raise your hands. Shout your answers. Make yourself heard. Whatever it takes, just find your voice, and when you do, fill the damn silence.” —Meredith Grey

7 “Not everyone has to be happy all the time. That isn’t metal health. That’s crap.” —Meredith Grey

8 “Breakthroughs don’t happen because of the medicine. Real breakthroughs happen because someone is scared to death to stop trying.” —Derek Shepherd

9 “We don’t get unlimited chances to have the things that we want, and this I know. Nothing is worse than missing an opportunity that could have changed your life.” —Addison Montgomery

10 “And if you can't do it, if you aren't willing to keep looking for light in the darkest of places without stopping, even when it seems impossible, you will never succeed.” —Amelia Shepard

11 “Oh screw beautiful! I’m brilliant! If you want to appease me, compliment my brain.” — Christina Yang

12 “You were like coming up for fresh air. It's like I was drowning and you saved me.” — Derek Shepard

13 “The only time I don't feel like a ghost is when you look at me, because when you look at me, you see me. You see me. This is me.” — Owen Hunt

14 “It's good to be scared. It means you still have something to lose.” — Richard Webber

15 “You are my person. You will always be my person.” — Christina Yang

16 “It doesn't matter how tough we are. Trauma always leaves a scar. It follows us home, it changes our lives. Trauma messes everybody up. But maybe that's the point. All the pain and the fear and the crap. Maybe going through all that is what keeps us moving forward. It's what pushes us. Maybe we have to get a little messed up, before we can step up.” — Alex Karev

17 “Please, don't chase me anymore, unless you're ready to catch me.” — Callie Torres

18 “Change … we don’t like it, we fear it. But we can’t stop it from coming. We either adapt to change, or we get left behind. It hurts to grow. Anybody who tells you it doesn’t, is lying. But here’s the truth: Sometimes, the more things change, the more they stay the same. And sometimes, oh, sometimes, change is good. Sometimes, change is … everything.” — Meredith Grey

19 “Intimacy is a four letter syllable for- here’s my heart and soul, please grind them into a hamburger and enjoy. It’s both desired and feared. Difficult to live with, impossible to live without” -Meredith Grey

20 “You can have the worst crap in the world happen to you and you can get over it. All you gotta do is survive.” -Alex Karev

21 Walk tall. All you can do is be brave enough to get out there. You fought. You loved. You Lost. Walk tall.” -Mark Sloan

22 "Just because people do horrible things, it doesn't always mean they're horrible people."-Izzie Stevens

23 "I am woman. Hear me roar." - Miranda Bailey

24 "I love everything about you. Even the things I don't like, I love. And I want you with me. I love you and I think you love me too. Do you?" -Jackson Avery

25 “If you want crappy things to stop happening to you, stop accepting crap and demand something more.” -Cristina Yang

26 “You didn't love her! You just didn't want to be alone. Or maybe, maybe she was good for your ego. Or, or maybe she made you feel better about your miserable life, but you didn't love her, because you don't destroy the person that you love!” - Callie Torres

27 I am not an ugly duckling. I'm a swan."-April Kepner

28 “Okay, here it is, your choice... it's simple, her or me, and I'm sure she is really great. But Derek, I love you, in a really, really big 'pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window', unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. So pick me, choose me, love me.” - Meredith Grey

29 “I’ve had to give up things but what I’ve learned is that I don’t need much. I don’t need much to be happy.” -Arizona Robbins

30 “I need the day off. For drinking.” -Addison Montgomery

31 "It turns out sometimes you have to do the wrong thing. Sometimes you have to make a big mistake to figure out how to make things right. Mistakes are painful, but they're the only way to find out who we really are." -Denny Duquette

32 “In the beginning everyone is there, but then they forget.” - Amelia Shepherd

33 "Knowing is better than wondering. Waking is better than sleeping, and even the biggest failure, even the worst, beats the hell out of never trying." -Meredith Grey

34 “You have to go back to the beginning to understand the end.” -Teddy Altman

35 “Yeah we’re friends…I mean right now I’d probably say you’re one of my best friends.”-George O’Malley

36 “I’m just gonna feel bad that I made it so you can never love again” -Jo Wilson

37 "The future is the home of our deepest fears and our wildest hopes." -Owen Hunt

38 “There’s a land called passive agressiva, and you’re their queen” -Derek Shepherd

39 “Let’s play a game of whose life sucks the most. I’ll win. I always win.” -Meredith Grey

40 “I take things personally. I get emotional.” -Lexie Grey

41 “Stop looking at my like that. Like you’ve seen me naked” -Meredith Grey

42 “Pretty good is not good enough, I want to be great.” -Cristina Yang

43 "Don't let fear keep you quiet. You have a voice so use it. Speak up. Raise your hands. Shout your answers. Make yourself heard. Whatever it takes, just find your voice, and when you do, fill the damn silence." - Meredith Grey

44 “Let’s just make-out on the couch.” -Nathan Riggs

45 "Maybe we like the pain. Maybe we're wired that way. Because without it, I don't know; maybe we just wouldn't feel real. What's that saying? Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop." -Meredith Grey

46 “Deal with your jealousy. Deal with your shortcomings. Don’t put your crap on me.” -Stephanie Edwards

47 "I know I'm not a lot of things that you've gone for in the past - I know, but I would never leave you. I would never hurt you. And I will never stop loving you.." -George O’Malley

48 “Sometimes you have to be a shark.” -Lucy Fields

49 “Don’t look at me like that. Like I’m damaged goods. I’m still me. I’m still here.” -Adele Webber

50 "More tequila. More love. More anything. More is better." -Meredith Grey

51 "More tequila. More love. More anything. More is better." -Meredith Grey

52 "For a kiss to be really good, you want it to mean something. You want it to be with someone you can't get out of your head, so that when your lips finally touch you feel it everywhere. A kiss so hot and so deep you never want to come up for air. You can't cheat your first kiss. Trust me, you don't want to. Cause when you find that right person for a first kiss, it's everything." -Alex Karev

53 "You can't be an ass to me all day and then expect me to give you respect." - Lexie Grey

54 “Some days, the whole world seems upside down. And then somehow, and probably, when you least expect it, the world gets right again.” -Meredith Grey

55 “Shut up. Dance it out.” -Cristina Yang

56 “We may only be together five minutes every two months, but when we do we will savor every second. We know how valuable those five minutes are.” -Ben Warren

57 “There comes a point when you have to suck it up and stop whining and start living” -Callie Torres

58 “Please don’t give up on me. Promise. Promise me you won’t.” -Arizona Robbins

59 “Bad things happen, but you have to move past it. Leave it behind. The sooner, the better. Or it’ll eat away at you and stop you from moving forward.” -Miranda Bailey

60 “This is the way the world changes. Good people, raising babies right” -Catherine Avery

61 “The problem is we are human. We want more than to just survive. We want to love.” -Lexie Grey

62 "There's a club. The Dead Dads/Moms/Parents Club. And you can't be in it until you're in it. You can try to understand, you can sympathize. But until you feel that loss... My dad/mom/parent’s died when I was AGE. NAME, I'm really sorry you had to join the club." -Cristina Yang

63 “I’m going to die because these people aren’t properly trained” -Derek Shepherd

64 “I believe if you were dead, the world would be a better place” -George O’Malley

65 “You think you broke me, NAME? You’re the one who put me back together.” -Mark Sloan

66 “I want so much for you. For both of us. So much more than this. More than being stuck with someone who feels stuck. I want you to feel free.” -Callie Torres

67 “Every kiss before the right kiss doesn’t count anyway” -Derek Shepherd

68 “The expected is what keeps us steady. It’s the unexpected that changes our lives forever.” -Meredith Grey

69 “Promise that you’ll love me, even when you hate me.” -Meredith Grey

70 "The problem is, fairytales don't come true. It's the nightmares that always seem to become the reality." -Meredith Grey

71 “How are you fine? How are you just completely fine? I am ruined, okay? I am dead, I am wrecked." -Cristina Yang

72 “I didn’t like teenage girls when I was a teenage girl.” -Cristina Yang

73 “So you fight. Until you can’t fight anymore.” -Amelia Shepherd

74 “Don’t analyze everything. Just do it.” -Alex Karev

75 “Some lies aren’t lies. They’re love.” -Meredith Grey

76 “That’s where love exists, in delusional fantasies.” -Meredith Grey

77 "Friends are the family we choose." -Meredith Grey

78 "Don't ever date a man who can't handle your power." - Meredith Grey

79 "It’s not hard. It’s painful but it’s not hard. You know what to do already. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be in this much pain." —Miranda Bailey

80 “You’re my heaven. But maybe ... maybe I’m your hell.” — Denny Dequette

[beastars-takes]

Zootopia Takes: Darker’s Not Better

The Shock Collar Draft

So, it sounds like people are largely positive on me doing some Zootopia posts on this blog, and I wanted to talk about this tweet I saw the other day:

I’ll punt on explaining why Beastars isn’t “Dark Zootopia”--that’s a great topic for another post. But I would like to talk about why this popular yet stridently uninformed tweet is so, so wrong. Why the shock collar draft was not better, actually.

And obviously, I’m not writing several pages in reply to a single tweet--this is a take that’s been around since the movie came out, that the “original version was better.” It’s been wrong the whole time.

Let’s talk about why!

Part 1: “Because Disney”

Let’s start with this--the assumption that the film’s creators wanted to make this shock collar story and “Disney” told them to change it.

That’s not how it works.

I try to keep stuff about me out of these posts as much as possible, but just for a bit of background, I’ve worked in the animation industry for about half a decade. I know people at Disney. I have a reasonable idea of how things are there.

There is this misconception about creative industries that they’re constantly this pitched battle of wills between creative auteurs trying to make incredible art and ignorant corporate suits trying to repress them.

That can happen, especially in dysfunctional studios (and boy could I tell some stories) but Walt Disney Animation Studios is not dysfunctional. It’s one of the most autonomous and well-treated parts of the Disney Company.

The director of Zootopia, Byron Howard, isn’t an edgelord. He made Bolt and Tangled. He knows what his audience is, and he’s responsible enough not to spend a year (and millions of dollars in budget) developing a grimdark Don Bluth story that leadership would never approve. It wouldn’t just be a waste of time--he would be endangering the livelihoods of the hundreds of people working under him. Meanwhile, Disney Animation’s corporate leadership trusts their talent. They don’t generally interfere with story development because they don’t need to. Because they employ people like Byron Howard.

Howard and the other creative leads of Zootopia have said a dozen times, in interviews and documentaries, that they gave up on the shock collar idea because it wasn’t working. They’ve explained their reasoning in detail. Maybe they’re leaving out some of the story, but in general? I believe them.

But Beastars Takes, you say, maybe even if Disney didn’t force them to back away from this darker version, it still would have been better?

Part 2: Why Shock Collars Seem Good

I will say this--I completely sympathize with people who see these storyboards and scenes from earlier versions of the movie and think “this seems amazing.” It does! A lot of these drawings and shots are heartbreakingly good, in isolation.

I love these boards. They make me want to cry. I literally have this drawing framed on my wall. Believe me, I get it.

But the only reason we care this much about this alternative draft of Zootopia is that the Zootopia we got made us love this world and these characters. You know what actually made me cry?

Oh, yeah.

So let’s set aside the astonishing hubris of insisting Zootopia’s story team abandoned the “good” version of the story, when the “bad version” is the most critically-acclaimed Disney animated feature in the past SIXTY YEARS.

“But Beastars Takes!” I hear you say. “Critics are idiots and just because something’s popular doesn’t make it good!”

Fair enough. Let’s talk about why the real movie is better.

Part 3: The Message (it is, in fact, like a jungle sometimes)

This type of thing is always hard to discuss, in the main--a lot of people don’t want to feel criticized or “called out” by the entertainment they consume, and they don’t want to be asked to think about their moral responsibilities. But it’s hard to deny that Zootopia is a movie with a strong point of view. Everything else--the characters, the worldbuilding, the plot, grows out from the movie’s central statement about bias.

And the movie we got, with no shock collars, makes that statement far more effectively.

To dive into the full scope of Zootopia’s worldview and politics (warts and all) would be a whole post on its own, so I’ll just summarize the key point of relevance here:

Zootopia's moral message is that you, the viewer, need to confront your own biases. Not yell at someone else. No matter how much of a good or progressive person you consider yourself to be--if you want to stand against prejudice you have to start with yourself.

That’s a tough sell! For that message to land, we need to see ourselves in the protagonist.

Judy’s a good person! She argues with her dad about foxes. She knows predators aren’t all dangerous. She’s not speciesist. Right?

Ah fuck.

Let’s fast-forward to the pivotal scene of this movie. In an unfortunate but inevitable confluence of circumstances, Judy’s own biases and prejudiced assumptions come out, and she shits the bad.

Nick, who’s already bared his soul to her (against his better instincts), is heartbroken. But not as heartbroken as he is a minute later when he tries to confront her about what she’s said, and she makes this face:

Whaaaat? Come on, Nick. I’m a good person. Why are you giving me a hard time?

People like to complain about this scene. That it’s a hackneyed “misunderstanding” trope that could be easily resolved with a discussion. They’re wrong. Nick tries to have a discussion. She blows him off.

This isn’t Judy acting out of character, this is her character. Someone who identifies as Not A Racist, and hasn’t given the issue any more thought. This is not only completely believable characterization (who hasn’t seen someone react this way when you told them they hurt you?) it’s the film’s central thesis!

Yes, Nick somewhat provokes her into reaching for her “fox spray,” and her own trauma factors in there, but she’s already made her fatal mistake before that happens.

(As an aside, people also make the criticism that the movie unrealistically deflects responsibility for racism onto Bellwether and her plot. It doesn’t. All the key expressions of prejudice in the film--Judy’s encounter with Gideon, her parents’ warnings, the elephant in the ice cream shop, Judy’s early encounters with Bogo, Judy's views on race science--exist largely outside of Bellwether’s influence. She is a demagogue who inflames existing tensions, she didn’t invent them. Bogo literally says “the world has always been broken.”)

So, anyway. But we love Judy. She’s an angel. She also kinda sucks! She’s proudly unprejudiced, and when her own prejudice is pointed out to her she argues and doesn’t take it seriously. This is bad, but it’s also a very human reaction. It’s one most of us have probably been guilty of at one point or another.

Look at Zootopia’s society, too--it’s shiny and cosmopolitan, seemingly idyllic. Anyone can be anything, on paper. But scratch too deep beneath the surface and there’s a lot of pain and resentment here, things nobody respectable would say in public but come out behind closed doors, or among family, when nobody’s watching. It’s entirely recognizable--at least to me, someone who lives in a large liberal city in the United States. Like Byron Howard.

Wow, this place is a paradise!

Wait, what’s a “NIMBY”?

Part 4: Why Shock Collars Are Bad

So, with the film’s conceit established, let’s circle back to the shock collar idea. Like I said, it’s heartbreaking. It’s dramatic. It’s affective.

It also teaches us nothing.

If I see a movie where predator animals are subjected to 24/7 electroshock therapy, I don’t think “wow, this makes me want to think about how I could do better by the people around me.” I think “damn that shit’s crazy lmao. that’d be fucked up if that happened.” At a stretch, it reminds me of something like the Jim Crow era, or the Shoah. You know, stuff in the Past. Stuff we’ve all decided couldn’t ever happen again, so why worry about it?

The directors have said this exact thing, just politely. “It didn’t feel contemporary,” they say in pressers. That’s what it means.

If anything, the shock collar draft reifies the mindset that Zootopia is trying to reject--it shows us that discrimination is blatant, and dramatic, and flagrantly cruel, and impossible to miss.

And...that’s not true. If you only look for bias at its most malicious and evil, you’re going to miss the other 95 percent.

The messaging of this “darker version” is--ironically--less mature, less insightful, less intelligent. Less useful. Darker’s not better.

Part 5: Why Shock Collars Are Still Bad

So what if you don’t care about the message? What if you have no interest in self-reflection, or critical analysis (why are you reading this blog then lmao)? What if you just really want to hear a fun story about talking animals?

Well, this is trickier, because the remaining reasons are pretty subjective and emotional.

The creators have said that the shock collar version didn’t work because the viewers hated the cruel world they’d created. They agreed with Nick--the city was beyond saving. They didn’t want to save it.

The creators have said that Judy was hard to sympathize with, not being able to recognize the shock collars for the obvious cruelty they were.

Fuck you, Judy!

But we haven’t seen the draft copies. We haven’t watched the animatics. We have to take their word for it. Anyone who’s sufficiently invested in this story is going to say “well, I disagree with them.” It doesn’t matter to them that they haven’t seen the draft and the filmmakers have. The movie they’ve imagined is great and nobody is going to convince them otherwise.

But the fact remains that the shock collar movie, as written, did not work. And, if behind the scenes material is to be believed, it continued to not work after months and months of story doctoring.

There’s even been a webcomic made out of the dystopian version of Zootopia. It’s clever and creative and well-written and entertaining and...it kind of falls apart. The creator, after more than a little shit-talk directed at Disney, abandoned the story before reaching the conclusion, but even before then the seams were beginning to show. How do you take a society that’s okay with electrocuting cute animals and bring it to a point of cathartic redemption? You can’t, really. The story doesn’t work.

Does that mean people shouldn’t make fanworks out of the cut material? That they shouldn’t be inspired and excited by it? Hell no. This drawing is cute as hell. The ideas are compelling.

But I suppose what I’d ask of you all is--if you’re weighing the hot takes of art students on Twitter against the explanations of veteran filmmakers, consider that the latter group might actually know what they’re talking about.

See you next time!

[hazel-writes]

Summary: While recovering from the events that took place on Dantooine, you learn more about Finn and Takoda's complicated pasts.

Word Count: 3,300

Warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence and childhood trauma

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

It will take a while

To make you smile

Somewhere in these eyes

I'm on your side

• Space Song - Beach House •

It had been three days since your mission to Dantooine, and you still hadn’t wrapped your head around what had happened there.

Rilea kept asking you if you were alright, and you always responded with an enthusiastic yes. Any other response prompted a long, worried conversation about stress following traumatic encounters, followed by a rant on the violence perpetrated by patriarchal societies. She wasn’t wrong, but you just didn’t feel like talking about it.

Akilah kept asking you how you escaped. You could tell she didn’t buy your story — and she knew that you knew that — but wanted to make you admit it anyways. How she knew this still remained a mystery, one you couldn’t solve unless you revealed something about yourself that you were determined to keep a secret.

Soren was quiet, as usual, but instead of shooting you his typical iconic glare, he had been avoiding your eye contact completely.

Koda, on the other hand, was furious. For some reason, he felt guilty for what happened, despite the fact that he was miles away at the time. You told him over and over that it was not and could not be his fault, but you could tell that your words were not enough to appease his guilt.

Based on Koda’s reaction, you felt as if you should be more angry about what happened, but you understood why the men had attacked you. Years of pent up anger, frustration, and loss, mixed with the alcohol they had most likely consumed earlier, had combined to incite the unfortunate turn of events. You had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No, I should be more mad, you shamed yourself. They attacked me. Hit me. Kicked me. Watched as I gave up.

A knock sounded on your door. You already knew who it was. Ever since Finn found out about what happened on Dantooine, he had started showing up everywhere you were: inside the cafeteria, throughout the hallways, and now, outside of your room.

You sighed, making your way to the door. You opened it, and just as expected, found Finn there, helmet in hand, smirking at you with a sheepish grin.

“Finn…” you drew out his name, as if patronizing a small child. He looked back at you with apologetic, yet pleading, eyes. “I already told you, I’m fine.”

“I know what you told me,” he said, stubbornly.

Darn his freaky emotional intelligence.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, since you are already here, I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

He nodded enthusiastically, eager at the opportunity to help out. “Yeah, of course. Anything.”

You ushered him into your room, closing the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, you continued, knowing he wouldn’t like what was coming next.

“What’s goin’ on between you and Takoda? It’s just… you both are so sweet and it’s weird to see you guys act so distant around each other.”

He smirked. “Well, first of all, we’re sweet around you — I am still a trooper, remember, so I can’t be this charming all the time.”

“Right,” you said, cheeks reddening slightly as you rolled your eyes. “But why the lack of charm around Koda?”

He sighed heavily, avoiding eye contact. “Koda and I… We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

“Such as…” you inquired further.

“Such as the trooper program.”

That didn’t make any sense to you; Takoda had never spoken about the program before.

“Why would Koda be interested in the trooper program?”

The room was silent.

“Because he was one.”

“Koda was a trooper??!” You couldn’t picture it. As hard as you tried, you just couldn’t. He was too silly, too full of life. But the same was true for Finn, and he was a trooper too…

“Yup,” he replied, somber. “We were in the same fleet too. We always had each other's backs.”

You thought for a second, processing the new information. “So what changed?”

He hesitated, looking down at his feet. You’d never seen him look this sad before, and it made your own heart feel heavy.

“A couple years into his program, Koda got injured.”

“Injured — how?”

“We were on a planet with a heavy rebel presence. Our orders were to… eliminate a village that housed supposed Resistance sympathizers. We went in with grenades,” he paused, choking on his words. You looked up at him, reaching out and grabbing his hand, supportively. He nodded appreciatively and continued. “At one point, a trooper next to me threw one. It landed by a little girl, maybe nine years old. Koda jumped forward — pushed her out of the way. He ended up catching most of the blow. I can’t honestly say that I would’ve had the courage to do the same. I hid my grenades in a nearby bush and ran over to him; he was hurt badly. So the med guys took him, and he was airlifted outta there.”

You squeezed his hand, gently urging him to continue. “What happened next?”

“I visited him in the hospital a few days later. He told me he’d been ‘medically discharged’ and was free to go wherever he wished… I was so happy for him. Not many stormtroopers get that kinda opportunity to start over, live their own life. Many injure themselves on purpose to get discharged, but usually they’re too obvious about it and end up executed on the grounds of ‘treason’.”

You shook your head in shock. “Stars…”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “So I asked Koda what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go… I mean, the possibilities were endless for him! But he surprised me. He told me he wanted to stay with the Order, try to make it 'better'. I couldn’t believe it — especially given his background.”

“What do you mean, his background?” you questioned.

“Koda hasn’t told you?” he said, eyes widening.

“Told me what?”

“Kriff…” he mumbled. “I think that’s something you should discuss with him .”

“Yeah, okay...” You paused, thinking. You were still confused about one thing.

“So Koda refused to leave the Order, and you and him just… stopped talking?”

He sighed, his hand leaving your grasp to run through his hair. He seemed frustrated, not at you, but at the newly-unearthed memories of his past.

“It’s not as simple as that. Koda had a choice. He had a choice to join the trooper program, and a choice to leave it. I never had a choice. I was forced into it. It was either this, or death.” He paused, sighing, before lowering his voice. “Had I known what it would be like here, as a trooper, I would’ve chosen death.”

Hearing that tore your heart in two. “Finn, please, don’t say that.”

He threw up his hands. “It’s true! Being forced to tear apart planets, villages, houses, families, people… It’s horrible. Sickening.” He paused. “I- I had almost given up hope completely, when all of a sudden you came into the picture.”

You gave him a sad, appreciative smile.

“Anyways, he had a choice to leave this life, and he said no. I’ve never had a choice, but if I did, I would be out of this place in a second. That’s why we don’t talk anymore.”

“I see.” You paused. “Finn, I-”

Words couldn’t describe how incredibly sad you felt that such a strong, empathetic man like Finn had been forced to endure so much pain.

You reached out and pulled him into the biggest hug you could manage. Your eyes prickled with tears. “I’m so sorry Finn, I’m so, so sorry,” you whispered over and over into his ear.

After a few minutes like that, you finally pulled away to see Finn smiling warmly at you. How could he still do that — smile — after everything he’d gone through?

“Hey, I just thought of one good thing that came out of me staying in this stupid trooper program.”

“What?” you asked, genuinely interested.

There was that sheepish smile again. “Well, if I left, I never would’ve met you.”

You didn’t deserve a friend like Finn.

“And I would’ve never met you…”

You grabbed his hands in yours and held them to your forehead. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply. It was your turn to worry.

“I wish there was more I could do for you,” you whispered.

He shook his head. “You’ve already done so much.”

“Not enough,” you replied.

He sighed, bringing both your hands back down to your lap.

“Listen, there’s something about you — I don’t know what — that gives me hope, and I don’t use that word lightly. I felt it from the first, or should I say the second, time I met you.” He laughed, his eyes brightening. “If anyone can change the way things are in the galaxy right now, it’s you.”

You looked at him, wondering where this blind trust was coming from. He had only known you for a short amount of time… You finally understood why the Commander was so surprised by your own blind trust in his orders.

“I should get back,” he said, standing up. “But please, try to remember what I said.”

After giving you one last hug, he put on his helmet and made his way out of your quarters, leaving you to your thoughts.

——————————————

You spent the next few hours reflecting on your conversation with Finn. You found yourself desperately wanting to find out more about Koda’s enigmatic background.

After pacing back and forth across your room a couple hundred times, your curiosity finally got the best of you.

I have to go talk to Koda. I need to find out what he has been keeping from me.

You found him sitting in the artist workspace, alone.

He didn’t seem to see you at first, so you cleared your throat, announcing your presence.

His head jerked up, startled. His brown hair was a bit more disheveled than usual, and his hair fell over his face slightly.

You smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no, I was just spaced out for a sec,” he smirked. “I’m back now.”

A moment passed before his features became more serious. “How are you feeling?”

This was the first time you’d really talked about what happened on Dantooine with Koda. Most of what he knew was from Rilea’s retellings.

You shrugged. “Fine, considering. It could’ve been worse.”

He looked down, wringing his hands uncomfortably. “Why wasn’t it… worse? How did you end up getting away?”

You couldn’t tell him what really happened — it’s not like he would believe you if you did. You settled for a half-truth instead.

“I managed to kick one of the guys who jumped me and while he was distracted, I made a run for it. That’s when you guys found me in the field.”

He shook his head, still looking at his hands. “Kriff… I’m sorry. We should’ve never split up.”

“No, no, don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. I just seem to be a magnet for trouble,” you chuckled, trying to bring up the mood.

He nodded, unconvincingly. “So what brings you here? Shouldn’t you be in a hospital bed or something?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, they won’t miss me,” you smirked, earning an eye roll from Koda. “I actually came here because I wanted to ask you about something.”

He squinted in your direction. “Uh oh, you have serious voice on.”

You laughed before continuing, “I just wanted to ask you about Finn.”

“Ahh…” he said, as if he knew this conversation was coming.

“I already talked with him today, so now it’s your turn to endure the wrath of my nosiness.”

“Okay, fine,” he said, letting out an audible sigh before rolling his shoulders and assuming a more comfortable position. “What do you want to know?”

You continued hesitantly, not wanting to offend Koda or worsen the tension between him and Finn. “Well, we talked about why you two don’t get along and how you chose to stay with the Order after you were discharged from your trooper duties. Finn mentioned — and please, don’t get upset that he told me — he was surprised by your decision… especially considering your background. What exactly did he mean by this?”

Takoda paused, looking at you as if considering something. Finally, leaning towards you slightly, he continued. “What I’m about to tell you cannot leave this room, alright? People onboard wouldn’t think too kindly of me if they knew.”

You nodded. “Of course, Koda, I would never do something like that — never.”

His hazel eyes met yours as he spoke in a low, serious voice. “I wasn’t born First Order. I was born Resistance.”

He looked up at you, attempting to gauge your reaction. When you didn’t look angry or disgusted, he continued.

“I was pretty independent from a young age. My parents were never home. They were always working on something Resistance-related. They were pretty much consumed by their work. One year they even forgot my birthday,” he huffed, looking to his feet. “When they hadn’t come home by dinnertime, I left the house. I walked for hours before I came to a small village. A group of off-duty stormtroopers walked by, chatting about their latest mission, and I approached them.”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“At that moment, all I wanted was to be a part of something. A team. A community of people that truly had my back. I couldn’t join the Resistance, not after what it had turned my parents into. So I asked the stormtroopers, begged them, to let me join them. FN-2187, or Finn, as you call him, was there. He was against it. The others that were with him, however, were all for it. So just like that, I went with them.”

You were surprised. “So the Order just let a random kid into their program?”

“Pretty much. At the time they were desperate. Less and less people wanted to be a part of the trooper program. They took anyone they could get. So, I signed up, trained, and fought as a stormtrooper. Finn took me under his wing. Kept me outta trouble.” He paused, his eyes downcast. “He was like the only true family I ever had. Then I got injured, Finn got mad when I decided to stay, and they transferred me here, to this job.” He looked up at the ceiling, releasing a dry chuckle. “Funny thing is, I found out years later that my parents had missed my birthday, their own son’s birthday, to attend some random Resistance diplomat’s birthday party instead. Talk about the ‘Parent of the Year’ award…”

You were starting to appreciate your family on Lothal more and more. They weren't perfect, but they had never forgotten your birthday.

“Listen, I know I can’t change how they treated you, but please believe me when I tell you that they are missing out. Big time.” You smiled at him. “You have the biggest heart. They don’t deserve you. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but Finn truly did, and does, want the best for you. He cares about you so much, but is too stubborn to admit it, just like another certain someone I know.” Koda rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not saying you should forgive him right away… I just think that second chances are important, and are something that Finn has hardly ever been offered in his life.”

Koda sighed dramatically before speaking again. “Fine, maybe someday, in the very, very, very distant future, I will consider talking to Finn.”

You smiled, satisfied. “Good.”

“But only so you will stop bugging me about, like I know you will.”

You smirked. “Hey, I’ll take what I can get.”

He shook his head, looking at you incredulously. “You know, you’re pretty good at the whole active listening while subtly brainwashing thing. It’s annoying.”

You smirked. “I have lots of experience.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do… So, is my interrogation over?”

“I suppose it is… for today at least.” You looked at the papers laying on the table next to Koda. “What were you up to?”

“Oh,” he started, looking a bit flustered. “I was just trying to sketch something up.”

A twinge of anxiety hit you. “What? I didn’t know we had a new assignment already!”

“No, no, it’s not for a new assignment,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “It’s for Rilea.”

“Rilea…” You smirked, knowingly. “I knew something was going on there.”

The look of panic on Koda’s face was almost comical. “What? No! Nothing is going on! The going is off. A hundred percent off.”

“Wow, consider me convinced,” you replied sarcastically.

He shook his head emphatically. “I swear, we’re just friends… not even that! We’re basically enemies.”

You smiled devilishly. “Alright, I’ll be sure to let her know the next time I see her.”

The panicked look on his face turned to one of pure terror. “No! Please! Ugh. Just- just don’t say anything alright?”

“Whatever you say, Koda,” you said, once again smiling in victory. “Anyways, I’ll let you get back to your project.”

You walked back towards the door, stopping briefly before you exited.

“And Koda?” You turned to face him. “Thank you.”

He looked back at you, confused. “For what?”

“For not giving up.”

And with that you made your way out of the workspace and back to your quarters.

———————————————————

Upon arriving in your room, you headed straight to the bed, face-planting into the pillows. You sighed loudly before turning onto your back, casually scanning your eyes over the space. Something on the floor next to the door caught your eye: a white slip of folded paper.

You stood up, making your way over to the mystery letter. The word artist was written on the front. Opening it up, you found it simply read:

Meet me in room E23 tomorrow night at 8. This is not a request.

Commander Ren

You chuckled. Of course he had to add the ‘this is not a request’ bit.

Alarm bells soon began sounding in your head. You wondered what this meeting was about: Were you in trouble? Was this about your Force abilities? Were you being led into a trap?

But there that strange feeling was again: trust.

For some strange reason, you trusted that the Commander wouldn’t hurt you. After all, he’d proven as much over the last few days, after saving you from Hux and the men on Dantooine.

You thought back onto your conversation with Finn, remembering how he told you about the way he was forced into the trooper program. It shocked you that some troopers had attempted to injure themselves to get discharged from their duties. You recalled how Finn, himself, said he would have rather died than have accepted his position with the First Order…

If that’s the way these seemingly robotic and unempathetic troopers truly felt, then what was to say that the Commander was any different?

You had seen him in battle — you had found footage on your data pad. He was fueled by emotion; each strike of his fiery crossguard blade exploded with passion.

Though this raw emotion scared most, it enticed you — it gave you hope.

An excess of emotion was always better than a lack of it.

Maybe the Commander was forced into his role, just like Finn was. Maybe he had no choice but to join the Order. Maybe that’s why he wore his mask: to distance himself from his true feelings, from his inner conflict.

Of course, you knew more than anyone…

Things aren’t always as they seem.

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[lillaxtrigger]

Young Hope: Chapter 21

The salty starch of a curly french fry is dipped into a small cup of delicious ketchup; the spicy delight soon chomped in half by Kingsley’s teeth. “Mmmh...” After swallowing the piece, he goes on to compliment the flavorsome fries with: “This restaurant always makes some of the best fries. The salt and spices in each piece just burst flavor. You really outta try them Damian.” From the opposing side of the table does a tan brown hand pinch one of the longer curly fries before him; lifting it near the head of a hooded teenage boy with curly black hair drooping out from underneath. Before him, the boy watches as the long strand of potato simply droop down until it rips under its own weight; a depressing sigh escaping from his mouth as he turns away. “Hey, what’s the matter? Afraid you might burn your tongue? They’re not that hot.” Kingsley question. “I’m just not that hungry is all.” Damian moans.

Right after saying such, a small toddler smacks into his chair;  Damian disappearing upon the sudden bump. The toddler looks back, staring curiously towards the seat he’d just ran into; Kingsley watching as the little kid slowly starts to approach. Right when he was near, both hear the cry of a woman; demanding the toddler to: “Get over here, Jimmy! Quit bothering them!” On those orders does the little kid retreat from the table; the boy genius looking back towards the seemingly empty seat. “You wanna talk about what’s been eating you up? You been acting more withdrawn then usual this past week or two.” Before Kingsley does the boy reappear back in his seat as a disheartened groan leaves his lungs; answering him with: “I don’t know. I...I just haven’t been the same since that whole Circe episode. Going through that whole kidnapping and life threatening drama’s just been a little hard for me.” “I ain’t really seeing anything wrong with ya.”

Beside the two, Cayenne sat woofing down the burgers and fries before her like a savage animal; bits of fries and meat spilling back onto the table as she scarfs her food down. “Ya still lookin like the same overly dramatic try hard emo pansy you’ve always been.” she mentions, her mouth stuffed with overly greasy burger pieces. “I don’t think that’s the case. I haven’t heard him speak a single poetic line the whole time he’s been around.” Kingsley denies. “I still ain’t getting what’s eating your ass. Ya got outta that circus of horrors and lesbian magic without losing a single speck of your powers. So what the big deal?” “Cayenne! He’s probably still scared about being kidnapped and nearly getting killed. I’d know I’d be.” “You did, and so did most of my cousins too. Most of the kids that went through that shit storm turned out just fine in the end.” Hearing the spice queen recall such causes Damian to let out a disheartening moan; the boy hanging his head over the batch of spicy fries. “Uh, Cayenne. Maybe it’d be best if you sit this one out.” the boy genius suggests. “Whatev.” Rising from her seat, she takes whatever food was left in front of her before taking her leave; bidding her adieu with: “Still thinking he should just get over it.”

Watching the Spice queen depart, a defeated groan leaves Damian’s lips; hesitantly agreeing with her crass judgment with: “Saying it hurts, but…she right. A lot of the kids that witch had snatched up bounced back from it all without so much as a hiccup. Like the mighty grizzly, the chilling winter of her icy grip had lulled them into a long slumber. But the comforting spring of your warming rescue had awoken them once more; springing back from the brink with more vigor than before. Alas, the cruel winter shows little mercy for me. Like the graceful gazelle, unfit slumbering through the harsh bitter ice; growing ever more frightened and frail than ever.” “Quit thinking like that. You’re not as weak as you make yourself out to be. Everyone just goes through trauma differently, that’s all. That doesn’t make yours any less valid.” The boy genius’s encouraging statement unfortunately fails to perk Damian’s spirits, remaining ever drowning in his woes.

Kingsley slapping the table baits the ghost boy’s attention; Damian hearing him offer: “Tell ya what, how about you and I go out on day through Townsville together. It’s been a while since we done something with just the two of us. We can go wherever your ghostly heart desires. Whadya say?” “I-I don’t know Kingsley. The only thing I’m really wanting to do now is just go home and cry my eyes out.” “Did I mention that the underground cafe downtown is having a poetry evening?” “...Alright, you win.” Rising from his seat, Kingsley rejoices from the agreement by concluding: “Fantastic! Just need to pay the bill and we can hit the road.” Picking up the bill, the boy genius’s chipper demeanor is swiftly cut upon viewing the cost; finding several meals that he knows neither of them had ordered. Over a hundred bucks worth of burgers, fries, sides; Jesus! Only one person was with them that could stuff themselves that much. “Ugh, Cayenne.”

Through the streets of Townsville, the duo walk together among the countless urbanites going about their day; the boy genius asking Damien: “So, you still listen to stuff like Hip Hop and Rap?” “Nn, yeah. I’ve also been branching out more towards the tranquil melancholy that Lofi has to offer.” “Glad to hear your music tastes are still intact. I’ve been seeking out stuff through techno and synth wave myself. Guess our first stop on this cheer up trip’ll be something that both of us will be into.” “Where exactly are you taking us?”

Stepping through a shop door, the specter’s question is answered then and there; beholding a vast cavalcade of music in a slew of forms. Cassettes, records, CD’s, all hailing a multitude of countless genres for all to enjoy. “A music shop? Why is our first stop here of all places.” Damian wonders as both he and his host enter. “I figured since both of us are exploring new genres, I figure we’d stop here to look through some of the new and retro stuff they’ve got stocked.” “Can’t we just do that online?” “Well, yeah. But I find there’s this oddly comforting novelty of having physical media as opposed to just pure data. Just nice to have something displayed on the shelf I guess.” Grabbing hold of the specter’s shoulder, Kingsley guides his guest towards the collection of music as he urges him to: “Come on. I bet we’ll find a ton of amazing stuff sitting in these racks.”

Along the racks of tracks, the duo search the surprisingly vast collection of synthwave music; one of which was a CD labeled “Mitch Murder”. “Think that this might be good, Kingsley?” “Mitch Murder? Oh yeah. My dad used to listen to him a lot while he’d be making gadgets and bots. I remember when I was little, I’d here the soothing synth echoing through is lab and just lull me to sleep. Really relaxing stuff there. Thinking about taking it home?” “Me? Hmm, maybe. It be rather a curious to listen to what music others might enjoy and find out what got them hooked to it.” “Really?” “Venturing out in such unexplored territory can offer a window into the souls of others. Even if it’s completely subjective, you can tell a lot about a person from the sounds that best resonate with them.” “Sounds like you know more about this stuff then I do.” “The souls of others are a very curious endeavor to explore, Kingsley. Every single life in existence is a completely unique being.”

Their search through the shop send them leaning towards the newest lofi hits; Damien trailing his finger across the cases until coming to a particular album. Pulling out the track makes the ghost boy lets out a small sigh, followed by mentioning: “The first Lofi artist I’ve discovered, a hidden diamond sparkling out in the rough that would spark a love for the secluding melody that such a genre offers.” Popping the CD out form its case, Damian flips it into the drive of a nearby music player; grabbing hold of both the headphones attached. “Care to drift along in the sea of melancholy with me, my friend?” the specter asks; offering the extra set of headphones to Kingsley. “Uh...Sure.” Grabbing hold of the pair of headphone, the boy genius dons them right over his ears; first notes and beats he listens to sound...depressing, like really depressing. Slow beats, low droning reverb, soothing piano and guitar; really sounds like something you’d listen to when wondering of the pointlessness of life and contemplating the futility of our own existence, wondering if anything that we strive to achieve will simply just waste away in the march of time until it corrodes into something far less than memory… Depressing stuff, honestly. Not really the kind of music anyone going through those thoughts should be listening to. Best to switch to a much more joyously relaxing experience.

While Kingsley moves over and flips through the countless other lofi tracks, Damian takes in the idyllic desolation playing in his ears. The depressing strums the guitar mixing with the low key strikes of the piano truly a create a comforting misery that eases the pain; as if the musician sympathizes with the woes of trauma and depression.

Such a symphony of gloom is swiftly silenced; the specter opening his eyes as he snaps back to reality. His gaze shifts over towards the player; a new CD being inserted into the slot. Looking to who changed the track, he found Kingsley holding onto the music he was listening to with a caring smile; a new piece swiftly playing for them. This time, a more upbeat,  relaxing melody fills Damian ears. A piano, playing higher, more uplifting strikes sings alongside a similarly slow beat much like the previous melody. A complete contrast of the last lofi track, this one envelopes more of a chilling beat, a far more comforting rhythm. Like a friend saying: “Let’s just kick back, relax, and listen to some sweet, sweet sound.” A relaxing breath leaves the specter as a faint smile cracks between his cheeks.

After that change of tune, their journey through the genres continues unabated; both Kingsley and Damian scanning through the seeming endless walls and racks of music track. It’s in this moment that an all too familiar tune reaches the boy genius’s ears; gazing up towards the intercom to find it playing: “You used to call me on my...” Is that… “You used to, you used to” Is that really… “Yeah...You used to call me on my cellphone.” Oh my god, it’s playing Hotline Bling. It’s one of Damian’s favorites. Does he even knows its on? “Late night when you needed my love.”

Turning back to the ghost boy, he found not a single inch of his body dancing to the rhythm of the bass. “Call me on my cellphone.” Guess Damian hasn’t caught on yet. Probably too preoccupied with his woes to even notice. Perhaps a little push in the right direction might break him out of his shell. “Late night when you needed my love.”

Vaulting right over the racks between him and the specter, Kingsley slowly encroaches over to Damian’s side. “And I know when that hotline bling.” The boy genius’s head next to Damian’s, Kingsley starts to serenade along side the songs hot bassline; following the rhythm as the intercom continues with: “That can only mean one thing. I know when that Hotline Bling. That can only mean one thing.” Though not strong at first, Kingsley starts to see the specter’s body moving with the music; Damian foot stomping to the rhythm. “Ever since I left the city, you...Got a reputation for yourself now.” The further he hears Kingsley repeat the songs lyrics, the more Damian starts to break from his shy and apathetic standstill, beating his hands in tune to the bass. “Everybody knows and I feel left out. Girl, you got me down, you got me stressed out.” In the midst of harmonizing with the song, Kingsley begins to hear a low hum from the side; turning to the ghost boy to find him humming to the words. “Cause Ever since I left the city, you...” In tandem with his humming, the ghost boy starts to bop his head to the beat; slapping the racks with more vigorously. “Started wearing less and goin’ out more.” Damian’s whole body begins to move with the rhythm; Kingsley backing away from the dancing boy with a smile. “Glasses of champagne out on the dance floor.” The specter backs away from the rack of music tracks; his hood lowering to uplift his curly black hair. “Hangin’ with some girls I’ve never seen before.”

Finally, Damian turns away from the rack, dancing in full as he joins the boy genius on his chorus; singing out: “You used to call me on my cellphone.” Kingsley soon joins the phantom in his rhythmic bop; dancing side by side with Damian to the beat. “Late night when you need my love.” Both boy spin with one another, soon catching the attention of everybody in the music shop. “Call me on my cellphone.” Both boy then halt their twirl close to the carpet, slowly rising as they stay back to back to each other. “Late night when you need my love.” Once having fully risen, Damian jumps in the air and starts leisurely floating across the CD racks. “I know when that Hotline Bling.” All of the shops patrons watches the ghost boy glide through the store; the cashier even can’t help but gaze upon Damian as he moves to the rhythm of the music. “That can only mean one thing.” One of the shoppers joins in the phantoms serenade; her hips swaying with the beat. “I know when the Hotline bling.” Alongside her, the other shop patrons are gradually pulled into the rhythm; shaking their hips and bopping their heads to the music. “That can only mean one thing.” From the back of the store does a man with a shirt labeled “Manager” burst from the door; joining his patrons in their rapping chorus. “Ever since I left the city, you, you, you.” Gliding through the store; Damian twirls through the air as the other shop goers dancer. “You and be we just don’t get along.” Kingsley looks towards the ghost boy; happy to see a bright smile across his face as he sings with all his heart. “You make me feel like I did you wrong.” Damian lands back upon the carpeted floor with a dazzling flip; spreading his arms out in both directions. “Going places where you don’t belong.” The specter soon leaps back in the air; the people beneath him throwing CD cases in the air all at once. “Ever since I left the city, you-”

From the phantom’s carelessly joyous flight, Damian smacks himself into a whole wall full of tracks; the wall careening down upon another set of tracks beside it. That wall soon knocks over another wall of CD’s, spiraling an entire domino effect of collapsing sets of music tracks. The other patrons scatter away from the chaos, fleeing out the exit in panicking packs. Kingsley rolls away from the falling walls of music track, soon finding an entire rack threatening to topple upon him. Before the collection of songs could slam down upon the boy genius, somebody push him away from the descending rack; Kingsley finding himself thrust out from danger by his phantom friend. The boy genius can do little but witness the CD display tumble down upon his savor in a thunderous bang; soon seeing him buried under more dropping walls and racks.

The collapsing mayhem soon settles into a calming close; leaving the shops vast collection of music in ruin. Though the destroyed merchandise be the furthest worry from the boy geniuses mind; screaming out for his fallen friend. “Damian!” Kingsley lunges towards his buried friend without so much as a hint of hesitance; lifting up one of the falling rack as he assures him that: “Don’t worry buddy, I’ll getcha outta there soon! Just hang on!” Just as he ready to lift away the next piece of debris, the boy genius soon sees the translucent head of his friend; the ghost boy insisting that: “I’m okay. I’m okay.” Like an intangible spirit free from the physical plain of this world, Damian phases right through the toppled collection of tracks; turning corporeal once more as he lands back in front of the boy genius. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” A hearty sigh slips out from between Kingsley lips, the boy genius admitting: “Thank goodness. I really though you were done for a second there. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” “Trust me Kingsley, I’ve made out out of worse.” “I meant like...Are you feeling any better?” “Um...Kind of, but not a lot. Thanks for trying Kingsley.” “Hey, don’t quit just yet. This is just the first stop on the encouragement express; the next surprise in store might just fix your spirits yet.”

“You think so, huh?” a third voice questions. In that moment, a wayward fist breaches out from the rubble of the racks behind the boy genius; the emerging arm soon erupting out to show it belonging to the music shops managers. “You figure out how you’ll do the same with my store?” the manager growls. Presenting the resulting destruction to the two, he points towards the wrecked racks of broken CD’s and cracked case; reinforcing how: “The walls of records ruined, the racks of CD’s reduced to rubble, the tracks that I’ve stocked in shards. My entire music shop’s been completely destroyed! You got a way to fix all that!?” With a worrying groan, Kingsley pulls his wallet out from the depths of his pocket; slipping out from one of its folds his credit card.

Strolling through the concrete streets, the boy genius can’t help but notice Damian’s troubled glare; a gloomy moan leaving his lungs as the phantom stares out into space. “Hey, don’t look so down. I guarantee that the next stop were gonna visit will turn that frown upside down.” Kingsley promises. “You think so?” “I know so. It’s been someplace I’ve been wanting to take ya for quite awhile now. I guarantee your ghostly spirits will soar when you see it.” “Mind I ask where exactly are you planning to take us?”

Guided to his next stop, the ghost boy’s question is answered right then and there; Damian caught off guard by Kingsley surprise. Witnessing the astonishment in his eyes, a smile stretches across the boy genius’s face. “So, what do ya think? Your mood lightening up?” he asks. “I- I can’t believe it.” Standing before them be a brightly colored shop; the phantom beholding the assortment of exotic, almost otherworldly flowers displayed beyond the windows. “I’m guessing that’s a yes. Come on, I want to show ya the inside.” Taking the ghost boy’s hand, Kingsley gently leads Damian through the bright blue doorway; the wind chimes attached to the door ringing through their ears as they enter.

From within the shop, the duo beheld the quaint collection of blooming bunches surrounding them; a rainbow of flora encircling the pair. “All this is simply beautiful. The colors and fragrances all just blending harmoniously together in a symphony of natural beauty. How did you know?” the specter questions. “You kidding? With the whole array of flowers I see all over your house, it’s just a matter of putting two and two together. But all this, it simply pales in comparison to what they got set up in the back. Amazed me the first time I saw it all. It’s what got me thinking it bring you here.”

Stepping out the stores backdoor, both beholding a majestically expansive site spread before them; flora from every corner of the world and beyond gathered within a single enclosed garden, free from the influence of the outside world. The numerously vast collection of foliage leaves the phantom utterly speechless; left at awe of the overwhelming beauty of nature his eyes lay upon. Noticing the amazement in Damian's eyes, Kingsley lets out a little chuckle alongside mentioning: “Yep, that’s pretty much the same face I made when I first saw all this. Ain’t it neat?” “Neat? Neat simply isn’t enough to describe a site such as this. A wondrous union of flora from every corner of the world. The enchanting allure of such an earthly gathering simply draws forth the soul of nature within.” Having poetically described his feelings of wonderment and awe; Damian glides further into the wide collection of flowers before him.

The first set of flora to bait the ghost boys site be the seemingly dangerous cacti; planted upon patches of dry earth surrounded by brick. Drifting closer towards the green desert plants; Damian can’t help but let out an admiring sigh. “The mighty cactus, flourishing among the scorching desert sands. And yet, despite their unwelcoming appearance, they hide beauty among their prickly spines.” Glazing across the barbed patches, the specter soon finds a disturbance to the green; a bright pink flower, blooming right on the surface of a single cactus. “A single beauty; radiating among the harsh shells of the countless cacti.” Gliding his fingers across the flowers petals, Damian feels the gentle, almost silky texture of its petals. “Such a truly remarkable site bares with it a striking statement. How even the seemingly deadliest among us can show truly tender beauty.”

Breaking his site from the cacti underneath him; Damian is soon drawn towards another gorgeous site. “Ah! A deceptive contrast.” The ghost boy floats right over the prickly spines of the cacti and soon faces a glorious set of bell shaped flowers; a glass cage standing between him and the pure white flora. “The duplicitous brugmansia. The Angels trumpet. Truly a name none more deserving to represent the diabolical side of nature.” Phasing his arm through the glass, the specter delicately lifts one of the bells; continuing his description by adding: “Though their bell like bulbs may show themselves to be delectable and tempting, their petals hide an insidiously toxic poison. Even a single bite of this bell may very well send one on a terrifyingly painful trip towards the gates of heaven.” Taking his arm out from beyond the glass cage; Damian concludes is poetic statement with: “An example none more fitting for deceptive beauty. For what we may find as graceful and innocent may well be far more deadly and toxic than we perceive.”

Away from the lethal bells, the specter continues to drift through the glorious garden. Swiftly are his eyes taken towards a small bush sporting white flora all throughout its branches. “Quite the rare site. Never in my life would I imagine laying eyes upon the delicate hawthrons.” Nearing the bush of white, Damian gently brushes his palm along the white flora; adding how: “A flower seemingly so bland and uninteresting; blending in alongside the other beauties of nature. Alas, these tiny, fragile flowers hold within their stems an extremely potent healing property; the perfect ingredient to create powerful herbal medicine.” Pulling his hand away from the delicate flora, the phantom finishes his poetic dialect with: “A bold statement on how the small and blandest in our lives can have the biggest impacts.”

Out from the side; the ghost boy hears the call of his friend; Damian turning towards the source of his voice: “Hey Damian, come check this out.” Quickly, he glides towards the boy genius; gazing up to the majestic site right behind him. Witnessing the look of amazing upon his ghostly friend, Kingsley questions him with: “Ever seen something like this before.” “Only in myth.” Standing tall above them was the grand centerpiece of the entire exotic garden; a glamorous emerald tree enveloping a regal fountain. “An emerald evergreen. I’d never thought I would lay eyes upon such a wondrous site.”

The dazzled specter begins to ascend towards the top; the emeralds shine glimmering across his body as he rises. Near the trees crest, Damian plucks a piece of emerald hanging from one of the crystal branches; holding the piece of naturally grown jewelry towards the sun. Through the glass dome, the sun shine beams through the emerald; shining green upon the phantoms face. Dancing whimsically with the piece of rock in hand, Damian recites how: “This beautiful tree of shining jade truly brings the entire garden together; standing alongside the majestic flora to create a stunning symphony to represent the earth as a whole. A magical union of natures wonder.”

Finishing his dance, the ghost boy casually tosses the emerald leaf in his hand aside; soon descending back down towards Kingsley. The piece of rock ends up lodging itself into the sprinkler set at the top; the rock blocking the fountains water flow.

Landing right beside the boy genius, Damian lets loose a blissful sigh; Kingsley questioning if: “Guessing your spirits are soaring high now, aren’t they?” “As high as the stars themselves, Kingsley. My soul has soared beyond the atmosphere and has drifted through the planets themselves.” “Great to hear. You uh...You still hung up about you know who?” “As a matter of fact, I-” Right before the specter could give his say, both hear a violent shaking of metal and rock behind them. Turning back towards the tree, the duo witness the emerald evergreen swiftly start to furiously tremble; the loose bits of jade shaking off the crystal branches.

Right in front of them does a jet of water breach out from the hard emerald; Damian turning intangible before the gushing stream could hit him. The water jet phases right through the ghost boys body, soon striking the boy genius right behind him. “Kingsley!” Damian screams; watching as his host careens across the garden. Soon, the boy genius is smacked against the shops back wall; dropping down upon the grass with a thud. Witnessing Kingsley rise from the wayward flight, a relieved moan escapes from the phantoms lips. That same relief is swiftly withdrawn when he turns back towards the evergreen; geysers of fountain water breaking out from every side of the emerald tree; the sharp shards of which scatter all across the garden. As he gazes upon the disaster acting out before him, panicking cries reach Damian’s ear; glancing to his side to find the people fleeing from the ensuing chaos. One of these passerby’s lags behind the absconding crowd as he trip right onto the tiled walkway; looking above to witness a shower of sharp emerald pieces raining down towards him. The man braces for his inescapable demise; curling up as he awaits for the shards to impale his backside. But he feels not a single sting to his back, soon curling out from his brace to notice an emerald green glow shining right behind him; gazing back to discover the specter shielding him from the lethal shower with a translucence green plasma shield. “Get out of here!” he hears his savor demand. Not hesitating for a single second, the man scampers away from the ghost boy; Damian’s shield dissipating from the palm if his hand once the emerald rain ceases.

Back upon his feet, Kingsley beholds the escalating pandemonium ensuing before him; whole chunks of the evergreen now spraying out from around the fountain. Oh god. This is getting bad, really, really fast. They got have a water pressure control around her somewhere that can shut all this down. Hoping to find such, Kingsley swiftly scans through the garden for something that fails to blend in with the scenery; an element that clashes with the background as a whole. Out from the other side, his eyes soon lay upon a gray box nestled among a bed of gorgeous lilies. Jackpot!

The control box in his site, the boy genius sprints through the tiled walkway; passing through the retreating garden patrons. Kingsley glances up to witnesses his ghostly pal surveying through the sky; Damian’s attention soon baited by the boy genius when he calls. “Damian!” Gazing down to Kingsley below, the phantom listens as the boy genius orders that: “I’m going for the water control box! Get everyone outta here!” Hearing these demands, Damian descends down to the tiled pathway towards a couple of fleeing people. Hugging both by their wastes, the phantom sweeps the two out of the enclosed garden; phasing both him and the couple right through the glass dome.

Witnessing his phantom friend working on rescuing duty, Kingsley continues his race towards the control box up ahead. Out from the evergreen does another chunk of emerald come blasting out from the tree’s surface; the large jade rock careening towards the sprinting boy genius. Rolling along the tile, he slides right under the careening jewel as it passes right over him; the rocks rugged shards just inches away from his back. Once the emerald flies by, Kingsley leaps right back on his feet and continues towards the control box.

From there, the boy genius hurries towards the patch of lilies; green shadows sliding across the pathway baiting his attention up. Above, Kingsley witnesses several large shards descending right towards his path; refusing to halt for their landing. Continuing through, he sidesteps out from emeralds piercing crash down; witnessing the sizable shards digging straight through the tile. Finding another ready to crash before him, he jumps out from the jade jewelry’s landing; pieces of tile scattering upon impact. One more jagged jade digs right into tile pathway in front of him; Kingsley moving right by the broken piece of emerald.

Within the shop itself, two scruffy looking fellows calmly browse through the selection of flora along the shelves. One of them puts his nose up to a set of blue flowers and takes in the present aroma they emit. “I’m telling ya man. These hydrangeas will really make the place pop. Be a nice site among all those moldy hallways.” one of the suggests. “Hmm. Not to sure if blue really is the color we should go for.” the other doubts as they withdraw their nose from the flower. “Well, what kind are you thinkin about?” “I don’t know, man. Something like looks more natural. Maybe something green?” “Man, don’t fuckin joke about that. You remember the last disaster that happened when green came into our lives?” Before the other gent could answer, a crowd of fleeing patrons passes right behind them; the two turning their sites to the absconding shopper. “The hell’s got them so worked up?” one of them wonder. Glancing out through the window, the other answers with: “I think I might know what.” Both gazing out into the enclosed garden, the two scruffs stare out as they watch the specter and gifted scientist zoom through the scenery; their sites specifically locked towards the racing Kingsley. “Oh ho… ain’t that a familiar motherfucker.”

The boy genius lethal race through the garden seems to begin reaching its finish; Kingsley making out the piping hooked to the water control box among the lilies. Threatening to halt his progress however be another jet of water erupting from the tree. Though none of the shards tempt to fly in Kingsley’s direction, the speeding stream of water shoots right for him. Right on the mark, the geyser of fountain water strikes him aside; the technician sent flying through the garden. Kingsley’s forceful flight starts to take a turn for the worse, soon finding himself rocketing right towards the desert dwelling cacti. Kingsley closes his eyes, knowing there’s little he can do to to stop his careen towards the sandy pin traps but brace for the spiny impact.

Just before he could feel the sting of their sharp needles, he’s is snatched out of harms way. Failing to feel any of the cacti’s deadly pins pierce his skin; Kingsley opens his eyes and gazes up to find himself held in the air by his ghostly friend. “You okay?” Damian wonders. “I’m fine. Just fly me to the control box.”

At his friends request, the phantom teen glides across the garden to deliver his friend towards the lilies. Right when nearing the control box, Damian hears his passenger then order him to: “Now, drop me down!” “What!? But where nowhere near close to the ground! You’ll get hurt!” “There’s no time to land, Damian! Other peoples lives are at stake!” Although reluctant, the ghost boy heeds to his friends request and releases his grip on Kingsley’s arms; the super genius plummeting down towards the lily patch. While Kingsley’s descent proves trouble free, his landing shows to be anything but; breaking his ankle upon the solid concrete. The rough landing makes him tumble back; the gifted technician grabbing hold of his foot as he cries out; “Ah! My ankle!” “Kingsley!” his phantom friend concerns as he starts to descend. “Don’t worry about me! Just keep getting people out of here!” With that order, the ghostly teen flies away; leaving Kingsley to limp towards the control box.

Zooming back into the fray, Damian witness a huge chunk of the evergreen burst from the tree; the emeralds trajectory sent straight towards a fleeing elderly couple. With all his might, the specter jets straight towards the couple; coming neck and neck with the careening piece of crystal. Outracing the chunk of jade by only several inches, he reaches his arms out towards the two; grabbing hold of both senior citizens. The hunk of shining rock however slams down upon all three; the tiled pathway around the crashed emerald fracturing on all sides. Thankfully, all of them remain completely unharmed; Damian intangibly leading them out of the chunk of jewelry.

Finally making it to the control box, Kingsley leans over and begins digging through his pockets; soon pulling out his beloved screwdriver. With but a single stroke, he jams the tip of his tool right between the box and its cover; soon starting to wedge the lid off. It takes only several motions before he finally pries off the lid, revealing the valves and button controls held within; immediately beginning to turn the valve clockwise. The fountain set around the broken evergreen begins to finally calm; the water spurting out from the shattered walls of emerald soon dying down as a shimmering rainbow is left in its wake.

Finished leading the elderly couple out of the garden, Damian zooms back towards his technically gifted host. Kingsley himself sits relieved; a peaceful sigh escapes him as he knows the destruction is at an end. Seeing his phantom friend approaching, he rises from the patches of dirt to complement the ghost boy with: “Thanks Damian. You’re a big help. Your bravery and swift thinking here saved everyone's lives.” “Are you kidding. You’re the real hero here. I just simply kept people out of harms away. You...Your the one that actually stopped this whole mess.” Tempting to rise from the dirt, the boy genius stands on his feet; his ankles soaring horribly upon standing. Watching Kingsley fumble back down, Damian approaches worried; asking him if: “Oh my god! Are you alright!?” “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just my ankle. I’ll walk it off.” Rising to his knees, another question pops into Kingsley head; making him wonder aloud: “Still, kinda curious to know what screwed the fountain up so bad. Piping just doesn’t burst outta nowhere like that.”

Wondering such himself, Damien glides over towards the fractured fountain; taking a curious glance at its crown. Looking within the warped pipe at the top, the phantom teen spots something green clogging the inside. Phasing said object out with an intangible hand revealed to be a solid emerald leaf, a very familiar emerald leaf actually. Upon wondering why it seemed to recognize the jade crystal foliage; the answer suddenly hits him. “Oh...Oh my...” “What’s the matter, Damian!? Find something up there!?” he hears his host shout from below. Reluctant to show him; the phantom teen slowly descends to the base of the fountain where Kingsley stands. Without a word, Damian shyly presents the jade leaf to the boy genius; Kingsley surprised how: “That little thing caused the fountain to burst? That’s nuts. How did it even get up there?” “It’s because of me...” the specter shamefully admits. “What?” “I was the one who carelessly tossed this beautiful crystal leaf into the fountain’s crown. It’s because of me that the pipes burst and caused so much trouble.” “So it’s you’re fault, is it?” a third voice blames.

Gazing towards the source of the raspy intrusion, the duo are joined by an approaching old lady pointing her finger at the phantom as she continues with: “You’re the reason the piping went haywire!?” “Huh?” Damian wonders. “Look at the mess you made out of my precious garden!” Gazing upon the destruction that the owner presented, the two see before them the countless chunks of emerald having destroyed the tiled walkway, but the various flora as well. The rhododendrons ripped to shreds, the carnations crushed, the anemones annihilated, the peonies pulverized; almost every single flower in the garden pierced by jade shards. “All the work that I’ve put into this glorious garden, now reduced to nothing but a bejeweled catastrophe! But the worse of it all is the centerpiece.” Pointing towards the crystal tree; all three of them behold the result of the fountains clog; the emerald evergreen fractured by the burst piping. “My beautiful evergreen, shattered and destroyed beyond recognition and repair. Never to be beheld in its former glory again.” Contemplating the destruction of this once gorgeous garden that he had caused, despair ridden feelings begins to well within Damian. “Look, we’re sorry, okay. We didn’t mean to cause any of this.” Kingsley attempts to defend. “You think saying that’s gonna fix my garden? You know how much I’ll have to spend to restore all this; to track down another emerald evergreen!? How do you think your gonna compensate for the destruction you’ve caused!?”

With a guilty conscience weighing him down; the ghostly teen digs through his pockets to pull out his wallet. “I can-” Getting his wallet out, Kingsley lowers his phantom friends while he insists that: “Relax, I got it.” “But Kingsley, I can’t let you pay for what I did.” “You really think that you or your parents can afford to pay for all this? I got this covered.” A weak moan leaving his lips, the ghost boy puts his wallet away.

Limping through the twilight streets, Kingsley can’t help but hear his ghostly pal beside him berate himself on how: “It’s all my fault. All the wonder and beauty held within that glorious garden, all the CD’s and records that the music shop had gathered; all squandered and ruined because of my carelessness. The very pleasantries that deliver me joy and happiness, all come to ruin by my thoughtless actions. Truly, the universe wishes for me to weep; to wallow in the sorrows of my own doing.” “Step beating yourself up so much. You managed to save a whole bunch of people today; twice myself included. Swooping in and flying people out of the face of danger. You should be proud.” “Danger that I’ve caused. None of them would even have to be saved if it weren’t for me.” “It ain’t even remotely your fault. It’s how those places were constructed that was the problem. What made that flower shop keeper think that growing an emerald tree around a fountain wouldn’t lead to a disaster.”

Even with these statements, Kingsley finds his words showing little in lifting his friends mood; Damian simply staring down onto the concrete streets. “But uh, hey! Don’t be too down. We still got one more stop left on this encouragement express, and I guarantee that this final stop will really make the day. Trust me.” Upon those words does the boy genius lead Damian down a small flight of stone steps; soon opening the door at the bottom to reveal a small bar. The specter’s eyes are set alight on beholding the small stage behind the crowd; hearing the woman on stage sound off a haiku. “The wind is blowing. With it carries the glow of spring. The lily orchid blooms.” The end of her poetic haiku is met with a slew of snapping fingers; Damian's mouth open in astonishment. “The underground theater bar. I was so busy wallowing that I’d forgotten.” “I knew this would brighten you’re mood, even if it is kinda smokey. Think your up to get on there and perform.” Kingsley asks, waving away the puffs of cigarette smoke. “Are you kidding? I can’t wait.”

Brimming with excitement, the ghost rushes to the nearest empty table; soon pulling out a notebook and pencil as Kingsley sits next to him. Teething upon the neck of his pencil, a pondering groan escape from Damian’s lungs. “Nnn, I just can’t decide. What do you think I should write about?” he asks his host. “Whatever you want to write about, Damian. Poetry is a beautiful free form art with only the limits of your imagination.” “Kingsley, that not an answer. I need inspiration, dammit.”

The chime of the mic cuts in between their conversation, both looking out towards the stage to witness a woodland dressed gentleman tapping upon the tip. Drawing the entire bars attention, the gent clears his throat and begins his poetic anecdote with: “Few have never had the pleasure to experience an enchanting encounter with the heart of Asian nature such as I; beholding the unfiltered majesty of the Thailand jungles. The sunlight shinning through the bamboo thickets revealed the beauty reflecting within our precious earth. The elephants marching through the tall foliage as they guide their young showed to me the parental bonds we humans take for granted. Witnessing firsthand the symbolic relationship between the flock of oxpecker birds and pack of hippopotami proved to be a heartwarming example of the harmonious relationship between different creatures. All stunning examples of what we as a species should be striving for.” The woodland gents description of his trip through the Asian jungle lends him a mild snapping applause from the audience.

Fresh off hearing this performance does the distinct sound of rumbling hit Kingsley’s ears; the boy genius glancing down to see his stomach in an uproar. “Esh, guess those fries ain’t sitting too well. I’ll be in the bathroom if you need me.” he mentions as he rises from his seat. “Don’t take too long in there, Kingsley. Once I’m done, it’ll be my turn on the stage.” Damian insists without looking up from his notebook. With the boy genius strolling into the bathroom, he fails to witness the next poet come on stage; a woman in gothic attire standing within the spotlight.

Grabbing hold of the mic with her nail polished hands, the goth girl begins to recount the her tale by starting with. “The waxing moon shines down upon the decrepit remains of a Norwegian castle; the midnight lunar glow illuminating the rustic and dust ridden ruins of its halls revealing a haunting beauty one of which can only behold to believe. Traversing through the keeps darkest corridors, I had witnessed a magical site before me; fractured vision of the abodes glory days flash through the hallways. Passing through these sparks of nostalgia, the very air itself felt out of time; the furnishings and decors feeling new down to the very touch. But alas, these visions fade all too soon; the battered and decayed remains of the castle returning to shambles once more. Never have a seen anything more decadent such as that Norwegian keep, as if whatever haunts its halls is attempting to recollect memories lost to the unforgiving ages. Perhaps the day shall arrive when those that linger within the castle release themselves from the grip of their troubled memories and finally rest once and for all.” Having finished retelling her trips throughout the haunted castle, the gothic woman sets the mic back onto its pedestal; the audience lending her story a much stronger set of snaps. This haunting experience also sparks inspiration within the ghost boys own thoughts, Damian rapidly scribbling down words within his notebook.

Fresh from leaving one of the bathroom stalls, Kingsley draws in as much of the ocean breeze air fresheners captivating scent as he can; a refreshed breath leaving his lips. Ahh! That smells so much better. Certainly beats the puffs of smoke wafting outside. Don’t really know how anybody can live in that nicotine fueled air.

His shadow trailing behind the streetlights out the window, the technician strolls to the sink as he takes in more of the bathrooms pleasant incense. As he turns the sinks nobs, he wonders where exactly the refreshing smell originates; pressing the soap dispenser to find the scent coming from it alone. Whoa, that is some strong smelling soap; the scent itself leaking out from the dispenser just to grace everyone with its majestic scent. Almost as if the air of the very tropics themselves boarded a plane to town just to forcefully jam themselves straight into the noses of others. Wonder who sells this stuff?

Beside him does another stall open, a shadow trailing along the tiled floor as it approaches the boy genius’s backside.. All the while Kingsley himself remains distracted by his personal hygiene. Lathering his hands with the strong smelling soap, he finally rinses his palms; washing away every last bit of the suds. Taking in the smell of his palms, a relaxed sigh escapes from Kingsley lungs; the ocean breeze soon replaced with the scent of chloroform as a rag is forced over his mouth. Struggling against his assailants grasp, the boy genius looks within the mirror to find somebody holding him tightly, unable to make out any distinct details as his vision slowly fades. Kingsley soon falls into a deep slumber, the red swirling goggles once strapped to his neck slipping off onto the bathroom tile.

Upon the bars stage, the Damian’s chance in the spotlight finally arrives; the specter shyly putting his mouth to the mic as he announces: “Thank...Thank you all for giving me the chance to tell all of you my own tale. Truth be told, I’ve had this chronicle on the back of my mind for quite a long time now, and am happy to finally share with all of you one of my stories.” Sharing such earns the phantom teenager a small set of snaps from the audience before him; Damain looking down onto the paper of his notebook.

“Through a man made portal of swirling green, my entire body was cast into the emerald afterlife. Beyond the gates of the dead, I float through a seemingly endless void of tormented spirits and haunting beings; wailing in never ending agony over the mortality they’ve lost. Among the countless lost souls, creatures beyond words drift alongside them; praying upon their despair and sorrows like emotional predators. Floating along the swirling madness, a countless cavalcade of doors rest to my sides; each one unique to the next. Living behind their wood lie the countless memories of the departed, some being little more than single lit rooms, other massive expanses as far as the eye can see; though they all attempt to keep what little shards of memory their mortal lives once held. Soon, my journey led me faced with exotic islands beyond the reaches of the living; struggling against weathers of blistering heat and freezing winds. Venturing through the beautiful paradises of lost roman cities, to the unkempt hellscapes of torturous ruined prisons; I’ve ventured out through the most alien and imaginative worlds that human imagination has yet to comprehend. But at long last, my search for home came at an end; led to the very portal I was thrust into. Without a single moment of hesitance, I bolted through the swirling gate, soon met with my loving parents arms once more.”

Upon finishing his daring story through the dimension of the dead, Damian steps away from the mic and gives the audience a graceful bow. The silence is then shattered by a wave of snapping fingers, everyone in the bar applauding the ghostly teen’s haunting tale. Hearing himself receive such an ovation brings a bright smile to his face, the phantom casting away his dark hood to reveal his long sleeved dark yellow garbs underneath. That smile however starts to dissolve upon staring back towards his table; realizing his friends failed return from the bathroom.

Entering the men’s washroom, Damian sees not a single soul beyond the door; not even a sign of his host. “Kingsley? You in here?” he calls out. Alas, he fails to bait even a remote response, hearing only the acoustics of the tile repeating his call. His sites soon turns to the stalls, checking underneath to find not a single pair of feet. Opening all three of them yield nothing either, each one completely vacant. Quite peculiar to be honest. He definitely said he was going to the restrooms, certain that he was. It’s not like him to just depart without so much as warning, especially during a day out such as this.

Upon pondering this does Damian feel something crack below his feet, glancing down and lifting his foot to find a familiar set of goggles, one of the lenses shattered by the specters foot. Picking them off the floor, he knew right away who they belonged to. This-these are Kingsley’s favorite pair! He’s almost always has them around his neck. Something must have happened. He wouldn’t just leave them on the floor so carelessly like this. Betting he was kidnapped, this is a job for the cops.

With this in mind, Damian feverishly pulls out his phone; his finger resting on the police dial. Right when he was ready to make the call, a worrying thought perks up and causes him to hesitate. Hang on! If he was kidnapped, it’s almost a safe bet they plan to hold him hostage; having him at gunpoint and could cap him at any sign of the heat. Might wanna call in somebody that can make things go smoothly. Thinking this, the phantom teen scrolls up to the “C” list; his finger hovering over Cayenne’s number. Eh, maybe not. She might wind up making things worse.

Putting his phone back, the ghostly teen lets out disheartened groan. It’s no use. It doesn’t matter who can help out, they’ll just draw attention and put Kingsley in danger. Guess its more of a solo rescue mission then. Still, there is one thing that can track him down. Something that Dad talked about a couple years back. Might be kinda rusty at it, hadn’t really had much need to practice. Oh well, guess now’s a good a time as any.

Taking in a deep breath, Damian lets out calming sigh; shutting his eyes as he holds the pair of broken goggles before him. An emerald green aura begins to emit from the ghost boys palms, soon enveloping Kingsley’s swirling goggles in their glow. From the aura do the pair of goggles start to ascend from his hands; the phantom focusing upon the eye wear until nothing else remains in his mind. With enough concentration, the aura surrounding the goggles transforms into a violet hue; soon trailing away from the pair of eye wear and drifting towards the left. Opening his eyes, Damian witnesses the aura trial phasing through the bathroom window. Walking to the small window, the specter lightly taps the glass; the window falling over onto the concrete street. From there, Damian phases out from the bathroom and in to the alley; swiftly following the aura of his friend out into the streets.

Trapped within the dim confines of a ruined room, two thugs finish tying the gifted technician from neck to toe tightly to a wooden chair; remaining oddly calm to the daring situation at hand. “Sooo...why did you guys kidnap me again?” he nonchalantly asks his captors. “For real, you saying don’t remember a thing about us?” the one to his front wonders. “Mmm...Nah.” “Not even the time we kidnapped ya a few months back?” the goon wonder, hurt by the boy genius’s lack of memory. “Eh, ain’t ringing any bells.” “Seriously, how often does ya sorry ass get ganked that you don’t recognize us?” the other behind him wonders as he walks to Kingsley’s front. “Happens more times then you’d think, honestly. Ya mind being a bit more specific?” “The Raw Shuck gang?” Mentioning their identities leaves their captive ever clueless; Kingsley simply starring at them with a confused gaze. “Those three brats you had with ya tore up our sweet hideout the last time we took ya.” “Nnn...sounds familiar, but...You sure that was you guys?” Upon this absence of memory, the two crooks are left speechless; one of their eyes beginning to well up with tears. Wiping the tear off his face, the goon pulls his partner aside to talk in private.

Facing away from their captive, the one goon goes on to mention: “Told ya our reputation’s been plummeting the past couple months. Gotten so bad that this mofo we ganked a while back can’t even remember us.” “Maybe it wouldn’t have took a nose dive down to the earths core and out the other side if we had more than one hideout. The damage that assholes kids caused took out half our gang.” “Hey, it ain’t my fault that some new brats in town are muscling in on our turfs and beaten the shit outta us.” “Who’s even stompin us out anyway? Didn’t even hear a single name.” “I don’t fuckin know. Bunch of young ass mofo’s going around callin themselves the “Yellow Jacket”. Some shit like that.” “You fuckin playin with me here? What kind of twink ass freaks just strutten through the streets like tough shit name themselves after a bunch of damn wasps?” “Well, who names their gang after a psychological test?” Kingsley interjects. From behind their back, the two goon look back towards the boy genius; glancing to each other to realize their captive listening their private conversation. Fulling turning back to their tied up hostage, the two gaze upon Kingsley with intimidating glares; one of them putting their face to the boy genius’s and threatening with: “Ain’t nobody gonna bust you outta here this time.” Both make their exit out; the other goon leaving Kingsley with a departing promise. “You gonna pay for make fools outta the Raw Shuck.”

With these parting words to the two thugs leave the boy genius tied up; Kingsley himself left apathetic to their warning. “Oh no. I, Kingsley Spicer, have been captured once again by a menacing gang of thugs and entrapped under their ropes. If only I had come prepared for this inevitable situation. Oh wait...” he claims with droning sarcasm. Loosening his wrist from the tight hold of his restraints, the boy reveals a watch from under the ropes. Pressing a button to its side causes the watches face to open; a small mechanical appendage soon firing a small laser. “I did.” the boy genius sarcastically recounts as the laser cuts through the rope holding him down. Once the last of his binds has been severed, Kingsley rises from the wooden chair, brushing off the loose strands of rope. “And people wonder why I wear a watch with smartphones around.”

Outside, Damian stares onward as a nervous gulp passes through his through; beholding the run down hospital blending into the night. “Get it together, Damian. It’s an abandoned hospital...filled to the brim with murderous thugs ready to unload their guns towards an intruder at a moments notice. No big deal, nothing to fear.” Glancing down to the pair of broken goggles in his hands, the phantom teen witnesses the voilet aura trail winding through the front door. “If I play my cards just right, I can swoop in and get Kingsley right out. All with no one else the wiser.” This strategy cemented in his head, Damian makes himself invisible to the naked eye and glides right through the front door.

Set deep within the dark corridors of the hospital, two goons stroll past an open desk sitting right in the middle of a big intersection. “So they asked you how you want your pork cooked?”. “Yeah, it was really weird. You told me that pork has to be cooked in a specific way right?” “It has to be cooked thoroughly so that all the bacteria in it get burned off. Kinda shocking that they even asked in the first place.” “Yeah, probably won’t be long before they catch the heat of the FDA. That steakhouse is a lawsuit waiting to happen, just wait.” Once the two turn the corner, their thought to be captive peeks out over the counter; glancing in both directions before sneaking away in the opposite direction.

Prowling through the molding hospital halls, stealthy technician gazes up towards the ceiling; the exit signs hanging over head beaten in. Beyond it however laid another sign, pointing where the fire escape is located. Seems like the perfect getaway at first, doesn’t it? Just slip through the emergency exit and book it as fast as ya can. But with the tempting bait lies an insidious trap. Judging by the dim lights, this place is still holding the power together. The alarm to the fire escape probably hasn’t been cut. Try and walk out through there and the blaring alarm will get the whole hospitals attention. Still, there’s gotta be another way out. Somewhere nobody will even notice anybody making their getaway. Upon wondering such does Kingsley witness a shadow creeping out from the corner; soon frantically looking around for a place to hide.

Out from beyond the corner, disgruntled goon walk through the empty hallway with a mop and bucket in hand. “Man, why the fuck do I always get stuck with janitor duty. Ain’t like anybody else is going through this moldy ass shit hole. Only got me on this one man clean up crew with just fucking mop and bucket; don’t know what makes em think that anybody can clean this whole crap dump with just these thing.” Caught up in his aggravated rantings, the janitorial grunt fails to discover Kingsley hiding within one of the open patient rooms; the door broken from its hinges. Once the angry cleaner was clear from the halls, the sneaking genius slinks away from the janitor; sadly unaware of his invisible ghostly pal searching for him on the other side of the hall.

Passing the pissed grunt overhead, Damian continues to trail through the dim hospital halls; following the violet aura emanating from his friends broken goggles. His trailing search soon takes him to a split in the middle; Kingsley’s energy venturing off in both directions of an intersecting hallway. The phantom ponders why his trail would fracture so distinctly like this; only two explanations at the top of his head. Either these thugs couldn’t decide where to stow him, or...he must have broke free! If the latter is true, then Kingsley would be attempting to sneak out towards the exit. Best track him down post haste, lest these brutish thugs catch him in the midst of his escape. Judging from where the entrance is located, Kingsley would likely be going...right. Having thought this, Damian takes a right on the 4 way hallway; resuming his rescue as he continue to follow his friend’s aura.

His invisible pursuits soon lead him to an alarming predicament. Standing before him be a whole cavalcade of thugs, crooks and grunts, mingling to one another of their criminal escapades within what looked to be a small lobby. Oh...oh boy...Okay, this gonna be tight. Just gotta not make a single sound and this’ll go as silky smooth as melting butter on top of toasted bread.

Carefully does Damian start to fly over the pack of thugs without so much as a peep; as getting close to the ceiling as he possibly can without touching it. Only a few feet of space stand between their countless heads and his body; the specter quieting his breath so not to draw any attention. As the phantom teen carefully floats over the murmuring crowd, he regrets not making enough time to practice his other ghostly abilities with his father; maintaining intangibility alongside invisibility being a skill that would have come in handy in situations such as this. Perhaps once this is all over, the father could explain how to do so without contracting overwhelming migraines.

A trouble that bares its fangs when Damian’s clothes are caught on the ceiling, the unexpected jerk making the mineral fiber tile over him tremble. Glancing back, the phantom had found the bottom back of his shirt caught along a loose wire. Hearing the murmuring cease underneath, Damian gazes down to find the crooks below him staring up towards him. “Anyone else see that?” “Yeah, part of the ceiling moved.” “I saw it too!” “Probably just rats! This place is crawling with them.” “I don’t know, I ain’t hearing any scuttling.” With the crowd under him growing curious, Damian slowly attempts to pick out his shirt from the wiring; his endeavors causing the tile over him to shake. “There! It’s moving! I knew it!” “Da faq’s goin on up there!” “Someone got a stick or somethin?” “We could just stack on each other and reach up there.” “Hell, no. I ain’t havin someones dirty ass dick on the back of my neck.” “Found a broken IV pole. Will that work?” The crowd beneath him gathering ever closer, Damian hurries to unhook his shirt from the loose wire; someone from the band of crook drawing forth with a long metal pole. Right as the goon with the broken IV pole was under him, the phantom manages to free himself from the wires grasp. The crook below begins to thrust the pole upward; Damian slipping right past its metal neck just in the nick of time. Floating away from the mineral fiber tile, the lackey instead pokes at the loose bit of ceiling; lifting the tile to reveal simply the loose cables underneath. “Huh, maybe it was just some rats.” “Well, what else do you expect from an abandoned hospital?” “Don’t know. Fuckin ghost.” “Josique, shut yo damn mouth.” Finally putting the curious crowd behind him, Damian lets loose a quiet sigh; glancing back to find not a single one of them the wiser.

The phantom then attempts takes off from the gang of goons, hoping to gain as much distance from them as possible; his getaway immediately interrupted when slamming into a wayward henchman. Both the invisible ghost and goon fall right on their asses on impact; the entire crowd behind them drawn by the unexpected fall. “You okay there, man?” one of them worries. “Ah! Anybody see what the hell happened?” the crook on the cracked marble wonders. “Think you might have tripped?” “No, felt like I ran into somebody.” The crowd of criminals behind him approaching the two, Damian wastes not one more moment to escape while he’s still remains relatively undetected; zipping right past the baddie before those behind him could realize his presence.

Peeking out from the other side of a thick metal door; Kingsley finds himself having reached the roof of the hospital; the full moon illuminating the entire top of the building to reveal not a soul wandering outside. With nobody in site, the wonderous genius steps out into the night; the cool fall winds brushing past as he shuts the door behind him. Although a little shivering, the freezing night air is welcoming none the less; taking in a breath free from the foul stench of aging mold and dried blood. It never really crosses the mind the kind of horrible odors that can originate from a hospital with cleanup being a constant need. With barely anybody around to keep up maintenance, all the fowl smelling bacteria comes out to play. Kinda surprising then that no one down there has contracted any diseases yet.

Putting these thoughts behind him though, Kingsley opts to take a glance out from the side; staring down below to spot an armed thug patrolling the face of the hospital. Pretty obvious that they’d have the front of their hideout covered, but what about the sides? Looking down to the left shows a couple of crooks creeping along their HQ’s first half. Okay, maybe the right might prove more lax. But alas, walking across the rooftop revealed the hospitals right side to be just as secure as its left. Right, they probably have the back covered as well. And just as predicted, the back shows to be just as covered as the rest of the outside. They’re not really being lazy with security, are they? There isn’t a single blind spot to climb down to and sneak off. With every corner of this place covered, there’s really only one option left to take. Digging through his pockets, the boy genius pulls out his smart phone; unlocking his screen and brings up his contacts. Hard to believe they didn’t think of taking this away.

Scrolling through his friends number, he ponders who exactly to call in this time of need; knowing all too well that calling in someone like Cayenne would risk causing one heck of a commotion and could end extremely poorly. No...a situation such as this calls for someone with a far more careful hand. Somebody who can easily slip into the shadows and go by undetected; as if turning invisible to the naked eye. But who exactly can fulfill such an insanely careful and incredibly crafty roll... Eh, Damian could fit the bill.

Finally making his decisions, Kingsley taps on his ghostly pals number; putting his phone to his ear to hear the dial tone sound off. Come on, please pick up…

On the floors below, Damian himself floats through the dim halls of the hospital in pursuing his friends aura. The phantoms search soon leads him to a run down patients room, opening the door to find before him a peculiar site. Behind the destroyed equipment at the end of the room be a lone wooden chair with a set of rope surrounding its bottom. Picking the rope off the old marble floor shows the binds having been cut in half at the back; sporting scorch marks around the severed end. Touching these marks felt hot to the touch; the smell of burnt cloth still fresh.

They definitely tried to keep him held up in here; but knowing Kingsley, he swiftly figured out a way to escape. The goons outside don’t really seemed particularly alarmed; they must not realize that he’s free yet. Gahh! Should’ve took the left instead of the right back at the split. Guess there’s not much else that can be done but backtrack and hope that Kingsley can stay outta site long enough.

Right as he ready to trudge back through the halls, the phantom’s phone blares out Drakes “In my feelings”; Damian scrambling through his pockets to pull out the source of the echoing ringing. From the side, the phantom feverishly puts his call on hold and shuts down his phone entirely; regrets of not doing so sooner flaring in his mind. Though there’s little time for self deprecation, as the specter soon hears the sound of approaching footsteps. “Who the hell’s playing Drake in here?”

Three thugs soon storm through the doorway; gazing within the seemingly empty patient room as one of them assures that: “Swear I heard it come from in here.” “Think some dumbass might’ve left their phone in lyin around?” the other wonders. “Maybe. Let’s look around. See if someone’s hiding in here.” the last suggests. All three of them start to look deeper within the ruins of the patients room, unaware of the source of the noise standing right beside them. Damian remains completely quiet as the crooks search through the broken hospital furnishings; inching closer towards the rooms open exit.

One of the lackeys soon comes across the chair surrounded by freshly cut rope. “Hey, guys. We kidnapped anybody recently?” he wonders. “Yeah, somebody finally knocked that Spicer brat and brung him back. Have him stowed up somewhere. Why?” one of them questions. “Uh, think they might have got out.” “What!?” From the other side of the room, the goon rushes to her comrades side and beholds the very same site as he. Picking the rope up, she ran through its string to come upon its severed end. “Dammit! How the hell, he get out so fuckin fast!?” “We gotta go tell the others. Who know’s how long he’s been sneakin around here?”

With the crooks alarm does Damian finally leave through the doorway; soon meeting with the blunt force of a wayward baseball bat. The impact causes the phantom to fall to the marble floor; soon becoming visible to the world once again. All within the patient room stares down onto him; surprised of his sudden appearance. “The fuck! Where the hell’d he come from!” “Swear, this town is full of freaks!” “Didn’t even see him at all. Who punched his lights out?” “That be me, mofo’s.” someone speaks up. Coming out from the hall, a forth crook wearing an odd pair of goggles comes in wielding a baseball bat. “Josique!?” “Ya’ll callin me fuckin stupid for blowin my cash on inferred goggles! Bet all ya’ll asshole kickin yoselves for constantly given me shit! “God dammit, Josique. You wastin yo greens on stupid shit stead of crack or hoes? The fucks wrong with ya?” Well, that look like a waste a greens, mofo’s!?” he gloats, points to the groaning ghost boy. Writhing on the floor; Damian’s consciousness begins to elude him; the last words he hears before blacking out be: “Just shut up and get the cuffs.”

Anxiously awaiting atop the roof, Kingsley stands by as he attempts to call for his phantom friends; the droning ring sounding out in his ear sweat drips down his forehead. A disheartened sigh leaves his lungs when the tone goes straight to voicemail; spurring the chance to leave a message and jumping back to his contacts. Guess there really isn’t much options left to take now, is there? Things might get kinda messy with Cayenne charging straight in, but what else can be done at this point. Just hope she doesn’t go overboard this time.

The boy genius scrolling back up towards the C’s in his contacts, his finger hovers over Cayenne’s number. Just when he was ready to make the call, his phone picks up an incoming call; the oncoming number soon turning to Damian’s name. Seeing his ghostly pal calling, Kingsley waits not one more moment to take the call; putting the phone up to his ear and pleading: “Damian! Thank goodness I finally caught you. Listen, I’m trapped up here at the top of an abandoned hospital. I need you come get me before the goons down below find out I’m-” “Hello, dear friend.” a deep voice greets. Kingsley nerves wind right back up when hearing the unfamiliar tone on the other end. “Mind staying on the line as you come back down, buddy? I have a guest down here that I think you be interested to reunite with.”

Held within the dim confines of a central office, Damian struggles to free himself from a set of neon green handcuff. Turning intangible fails to release his hands from their grip; a painful shock delivered to his whole body that forces him back to the physical plane. As he recovers from the sudden shock, a voice to his side warns that: “Slipping outta those cuffs ain’t gonna be that easy for ya, pal.” The specter gazes over towards a slim man donning a pale business suit; his face sporting black markings around his eyes. “I know. These are standard phantom containment cuffs. Only official phantom patrol officials are allowed access to these. How did someone like you get your hands on a pair?” Damian demands. “Kinda hate to admit it, but nabbing a pair of those puppies wasn’t easy. Had to go through a ton of black market channels just to try and find the damn things. Course since last time, we knew that it had to be a necessary investment. A little precaution just in case. And judging from the way your struggling in those cuff; I’d say it was all worth it.” Turning away from his ghostly captive, the man puts his feet up over his desks and lays back on his chair.

Right after he gloats does his office door creaks open, the boy genius himself being led in by a crook with a gun pointed to his back. “Ah, speaking of which, glad to see you back. Allow me to formally welcome you into the depth of the Raw Shucks den.” Damian steps out from the shadows, fervently asking: “Kingsley! Are you okay!? Did they hurt you!? I- Hang on second.” The phantom then turns his sites back towards the man behind the desk, wondering: “The Raw Shucks? Really? What kind of crime boss would name their gang after some psychological test?” “I was asking the exact same thing.” Kingsley adds. Slamming his fist against the desk, the boss rises from his seat; insisting that: “It’s meant to be a bad ass name! It’s supposed to tell others that we’ll psychologically ruin them. Get inside their mind. The trauma we cause’ll fuck them up. Ya get it? Come on.” Everyone in the office stands in the office in silence; perplexed of the boss’s naming reasons. Glancing to the goon holding Kingsley at gunpoint; Damian watches as she simply just shrugs. The lack of a response makes the boss pinch his nose as an irritated groan escapes his lungs. “Where the hell was I?” Snapping his finger; he reminds himself that he cut off at: “Right. Right. Threats.”

Sitting back down, the boss picks up where he left off; promising Kingsley that: “We’re gonna make you pay for crashing our party last time, Spice boy. Those brat you sicked on us ain’t here to help you out this time. Not to mention having your ghostly pal here on his leash. The bust up since then set us back big time. Rival gangs have been coming in and muscling in on our turfs, drug trafficking ring’s been shafted, heists and robberies have been dwindling to a crawl; it’s all been just a really shitty month to be honest. But ya know something?” The boss then vaults right over his desk; finishing his statement as he lands with: “All that’s gonna change real soon once we cash in on the pretty pennies both your ransoms will make. The investments we made in our hour of need will pay themselves back tenfold. With all those greens fueling are return, we’ll take back Townsville’s underbelly and conquer what lies beyond!”

His painted gaze aimed towards the boy genius, boss commands him with: “Now, hands up, phone down.” Feeling the cold steel of the iron barrel on his back, Kingsley calmly complies with the bosses orders; dropping his phone and raising both hands over his head. After picking up the mobile device, the boss glances right above his hostage’s head to find the boys hands balled tightly; immediately ordering his guest to: “Fist...Open.” With those words does Kingsley look towards his ghostly friend; Damian staring back as his eyes squint. Following the bosses words does the boy genius open his palms; releasing a small black ball that drops towards the ground. Both the boss and phantom watch as the featureless ball rolls along the marble crack; Damian’s eyes widening as he realizes his friends plan. The little ball finally explodes; Kingsley giving his phantom friend a determined smile as the entire office is swiftly enveloped in a shroud of white. Coughing up the smoke bombs discharge, the crime boss flails about to try and clear out the clouds; several gunshots sounding off in the chaos. The smoke eventually dissipates, the boss and his armed lackey finding their guest having vanished. Glancing back to his desk’s side, they saw that the phantom has disappeared as well. A small growl coming from between his teeth soon morphs into a full blown scream; the boss crushing the boy genius’s phone with his bare hands. He swiftly turns towards his goon; demanding that she: “Don’t just stand there, go after them!” Once the crook sprints out into the hall, her boss vaults back on the other side of his desk; grabbing hold of the intercom and announcing to the entire hideout. “Attention, my lovable pack of marauders. We got a couple escapees scuttling in our halls! Get yourselves armed and scramble towards the west wing, on the double!”

His announcment echoing across the entire hospital, Kingsley and Damian sprint as fast as their legs can carry them. “You really can’t phase us outta here?” the boy genius question. “Unfortunately, no. As long as these accursed cuffs cover my hands, nearly all of my powers are locked under its steel. Curse the bounding achievements of paranormal technology!’” “Damian, relax. I can get them off. We just have to find someplace to hide so I can pick the lock.”

Winding and weaving themselves through the molding halls, the duo attempt to break down every door they can in hopes of finding a place to hide; most of the doors they encounter either locked or stuck shut. Those few with no doors fail to be effective hiding places; rooms they come across either being cluttered messes or small closets.

Their escapades are eventually come to a dead end, Damian stopping in his tracks when turning the corner. Kingsley unintentionally tackles him down, both boys falling upon the dirty marble floor. “Ah, why’d you stop?” the boy genius wonders; soon looking along his side to find the answer. Rising from the floor, the duo are faced with a squad of armed goons and crook; all their firearms aimed right at the two. “Oh, wow. They gathered faster then I anticipated. That’s...quite impressive actually.” the technician admits. “Yeah, bitch. The Raw Shucks don’t slouch around. Now, you two piss ant’s scramble back your rooms before we cap yo asses.” one of them warns.

To the specters side, Kingsley whispers that: “I only packed the one smoke bomb. I don’t got anything else up my sleeves.” Gazing out to the group of armed thugs set before him, the phantom puts on his bravest face and counter that: “You might not...but I do. Stay behind me and plug your ears.” With that answer, Damian start to approach the front of the crowd; Kingsley frantically whispering: “What are you doing!?” “Something that my dad said that I should only do in emergencies.”

The phantom teen stepping to the front of the pack of lethal crooks; one of them warns the boy to: “Come on, kid, don’t be a hero. Just back away and play nice.” Breaking his determined glare, Damian takes in a mighty breath of air; the crowd before him perplexed why the boy was holding his breath. Their answer is soon given in the form of a bellowing screech; Damian letting loose powerful emerald waves from his mouth. Kingsley backs away towards the wall, covering his ears upon the horrifying screech. The intense wail starts pushing the thugs before the phantom back; the emerald waves causing them to careen into the walls. While some try to block out the unholy shrieking, others attempt to fire upon the bellowing phantom; their bullets failing to travel far as the emerald waves push them back. The constant blast of booming screams starts to make the entire hospital tremble; the walls before him beginning to give way. Soon, Damian’s tormenting wails breaking through the facilities structure, entire chunks of the hospital being blown away by his green screech.

Eventually, the boy genius hears the ear piercing screams die down; Kingsley opens his eyes to find an astonishing site. Before his ghostly friend, the entire side of the hospital had been completely destroyed; a funneling hole left remaining in the aftermath. He finally breaks his stare out into the open night sky when he witnesses Damian fall to his knees; the specter coughing up blood onto the broken marble floor. “Damian!” the boy genius shouts; rushing to his phantom friends side. Kneeling to Damian, Kingsley worries if: “Are you okay!?” Ignoring the boy genius’s question, the ghostly teen puts his entrapped hands before Kingsley. “Get these cuffs off. They’ll be here any minute.” he wheezes out. Upon this request, Kingsley frantically digs through his pockets, soon pulling out his trusted screwdriver and jamming its tip straight into the cuffs lock. As he shifts his tool through Damian’s binds, both begins to hear the echo of constant footstep approaching; the ghost boy urging his friend to: “Hurry...” Kingsley looks back to see shadows he begin to creep out from the corner, making him haste his lock picking. Finally, the specter’s cuffs come undone, the technological metal binds falling to the floor.

Damian witnesses a pack of crooks turn the corner, witnessing their barrels aimed right towards the two. Before a single one of them could open fire; the phantom bounces on the boy genius. Kingsley hears the sound of gunfire echo through the hall; looking beyond his phantom friend to find the goons behind them unleashing their salvo atop the two. Though dozens of bullets pass right through them, not one does any harm to them. The teenage genius looks down to find Damian hugging him as tight as he possibly can, the phantom turning them both intangible against the led shower. With whatever strength he bares left; the specter jumps away from the small cavalcade of armed of criminals and rockets out from the very hole that he’s created. The thugs behind them attempt to shoot the escaping duo right out of the sky, none of them coming close to land a single bullet on either of them.

In his flight, Kingsley looks back towards the hospital disappearing in the distance; admitting that: “I can’t believe we actually made it outta there in one piece. Damian, your-” Just before the boy could speak any further, his friends strength finally fades; both boy soon begin to plummet down towards the buildings below. Both soon land right on top of an apartment building; the duo rolling across the rooftop before stopping right near the edge.

Slowly rising from their rough landing, Kingsley looks on towards the direction of their escape; claiming that: “I don’t think they’re gonna pursue us this close to the city.” Turning back to his savor, he begins to conclude that: “I think we should be safe to-” Silencing his statement, Kingsley witnesses his phantom friend kneeling on his knees; the sound of sniveling sounding out across the rooftop. “What...What the matter? Are you still hurt?” the boy genius wonders, nearing Damian’s side. “I’m...so...worthless...” Taken aback by his self loathing statement, Kingsley looks to his phantom friends face to find tears trickling down his cheeks. “What?” “I screwed practically everything over. I couldn’t keep you from getting kidnapped, I broke your favorite pair of goggles, and when I tried rescuing you, I just wound up getting caught myself.” he reviews, presenting Kingsley shattered lens to him. Taking the eye wear from his ghostly pals palms, the boy genius hears him continue with: “All day, things how been taking a turn for the worse and its all cause of me. I’m nothing but trouble. Cayenne was right. I’m nothing but a melodramatic coward.” Kingsley throws his broken set of goggles aside; patting his self loathing friend on the shoulder as he denies that: “Damian, that ain’t true in the slightest. Far from it. I probably would have wound up becoming a led filled organ pinata if you hadn’t came in and got me out of that nest of crooks.” “But...you still had to come and save my spectral hide after I got locked in ghost proof cuffs.” “And you still went and blew a ton of them away. Even with those things on; you not only took them out, but blew up a whole half of a hospital, all just by screaming. We would have been caught dead if you couldn’t do that.”

Wiping away the snot from his nose; Damian adds with his retort with: “No one’s gonna believe any of this coming out of our mouths though. People like Cayenne’ll still see me as nothing more then a spineless poet.” A melancholy sigh escaping from his lungs, the teenage specter, continues with: “Much like natures mighty lifeline, the graceful honeybee. Keeping their world beautiful and full of life. But alas, those that benefit from them the most see them as nothing but a nuisance, much like I.” “Stop thinking like that. You shouldn’t care what the vast majority of people think of you anyway. Doing that’s just gonna make you get all kinds of unnecessary stress. You know who’s opinion you should really be concerned with?” “Who’s?” Pointing his finger right to his ghostly pals nose; Kingsley simply answers: “Yours.” Kingsley sees that this statement fails to waver Damian’s self doubt; swiftly thinking what he should add to cheer up his phantom friend. “But…even if you still aren’t too sure about yourself. Just know that...you’ll always be a hero in my eyes.” This final guarantee makes a smile crack between the spectral teens cheeks; a laugh soon escaping through his teeth. “Thanks Kingsley.”

Rising from the course roof, Damian stands tall by Kingsley’s side; both boys starring out up to the full moon as it shines its lunar glow down upon the town. “The full moon. Shining its brightest when facing the earth and its struggles. Much like how all of us can shine when we face our existence.” “Glad your feeling better, buddy.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Might’ve given credit about Damian earlier, but just in case:

Damian belongs to: @princesscallyie

[meetmeatthecoda]

would you mind giving a teaser for the next chapter of His Heart? or for Scripted? 🙏 really looking forward to updates on both!

Hi there anon! :D I’m so sorry it took so long for me to answer your wonderful, polite, and completely welcome ask! Real life caught up and kinda bitch-slapped me in the face :’D But everything’s okay now and, while I’m busier then I have been in the past few months and will be that way for the next few, I will continue write as much as I can! :) Speaking of writing, I’m so glad you’re looking forward to updates on these two fics, that means so much to me! :D But, unfortunately, I can’t supply a teaser for you. :( I’m so sorry… in an effort to make it up to you… how about the full final chapter of His Heart instead? ;) Sorry, I had to! :’D Anyway, yeah, here it is for real, and I’m so happy to finally post it! I’m a tad worried that, since everyone wanted a happy ending (myself included), the general tone change in the last chapter is a little jarring. But I’m hoping it’s mostly smooth and okay :) But, at any rate, pleaseee let me know what you think if you’ve got the time! :D I reallyyy hope you enjoy, kind anon, and everyone else, of course! :) Much love!

Red smacks the side of the vending machine,aggravated. The small orange package wobbles a little but remains firmly wedgedbetween the metal spring and the glass front, despite the five dollars inchange Red has spent the last twenty minutes painstakingly inserting.

He just wants a damn Reese’s.

(It seems he’s not deserving of anything, even candy.He should have known.)

He gives the machine one last half-hearted slap andsighs. There’s no point. He turns away, defeated, and slumps into his seat atthe corner table in the hospital cafeteria, gazing dejectedly around the room.

He stayed in Lizzie’s room all through the night,about nine hours total, eyes wide and taking in the blessed sight of her, deniedfor so long, and sitting frozen for fear of being noticed.

(Even though she was asleep, he still felt strangely asthough he was intruding. Probably because he knew he wouldn’t be welcome if shewas awake.)

The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to peekthrough the blinds on her window when she began to stir, her nose crinkling inan adorable sign of wakefulness. Red had watched, entranced, as a small frowncreased her brow as she registered the pain no doubt settled in her body. The cornerof Red’s mouth had raised in a small, wonderous smile, amazed at being privy tosuch a sight, before he realized what was happening. He froze for a second morebefore gathering himself and standing quietly, moving soundlessly to the door, andslipping out just as her eyes began to open.

(He felt like a creepy, old man.)

He sent Dembe in to be with her while she was awakeand wandered through the halls until he found the cafeteria, where he’s sittingnow, brooding.

(He’s always been good at that.)

Red sighs, running a hand over his short-cropped hair.

He doesn’t really know why he’s still here. It’senough that Dembe is here for Lizzie to make sure she’s alright and doesn’tneed anything. He’s only waiting for Dembe to come find him so they can leave thehospital and go back to the hotel suite, where he can be miserable in private. Here,in the cafeteria, there are other people milling about, prodding at thetasteless hospital food and giving heavy sighs, their loved ones somewhere inthe building, being cared for.

Red gazes at them all balefully. At least the peoplethey’re here for actually want their company.

(At least they’re loved.)

As Red watches, he sees a young man enter thecafeteria and look around, searching for someone. He is tall and dark-haired, lookingworried and somber, but still handsome, Red supposes. He wonders idly why he’shere.

After a moment, Red sees the man’s face light up inrecognition and he moves forward, maneuvering around the tables towards theback of the cafeteria. His mouth opens and he calls out to someone and, though Redis too far away to hear what he says, the young woman at the table next to him suddenlyturns her head and stands, rushing towards the man. She has a pretty face withlong, wavy red hair that billows behind her as she moves.

(She looks nothing like Lizzie.)

Red watches as the two meet and embrace, the womanpushing her face into the man’s neck, the man’s running up and down her back ina soothing manner.

The woman has a loved one here then.

Red can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the couple,feeling a certain sense of self-destruction as he watches. He looks on as thewomen pulls back from the man to put her hands on either side of his face. Theykiss.

Red closes his eyes and looks away.

He doesn’t need the fact that he’ll be alone foreverrubbed in his face like this. Besides, it hurts enough that he can easilyimagine Lizzie in the arms of a man like that. He cringes at the thought. Hewill never be that man. He is too old, too damaged, not fit to touch Lizzie oranyone like her. He is destined to be alone.

(He always knew it.)

Red rubs his hands over his face. That’s it, he can’ttake any more, he doesn’t want to be here. There’s no reason to. He came to seeLizzie and make sure she’ll be all right, and he did and she will, after alittle rest. He’ll take the car and go back to the hotel. Dembe can call himwhen he’s ready to leave. He can’t stay here watching a blatant display of loveand affection he hasn’t felt in years when he can easily go and suffer insilence. He doesn’t blame the young couple, of course, it’s no one’s fault buthis own.

(But it still hurts.)

He gives a final heavy sigh and stands. He hasloitered long enough.

It’s time to go.

Red walks out of the cafeteria, leaving the couplealone at their table, heads huddled together intimately, and heads for the mainexit of the hospital. He moves slowly throughout the corridors, feeling asthough one hundred pounds are pressing on his shoulders, weighing him down.

(He’s always sympathized with Atlas.)

He drags his feet even more when the automatic slidingglass doors of the entrance come into view, knowing that the minute he walksthrough them, he’ll be leaving Lizzie for the last time. And she’d probably beglad to know it.

(His heart calls to him from her room but he ignoresit, knowing he has no right to it anymore. It’s no longer his. Besides, Lizzie shouldhave two. She’s worth it.)

The sliding doors open for him and he’s about to stepoutside, out where the earth has the audacity to keep spinning despite the factthat he’s leaving her, when hesuddenly hears his name being called.

“Raymond!”

(He was almost gone. Almost.)

He frowns and turns slowly, exhausted, to see Dembejogging towards him across the lobby of the hospital.

“Raymond, wait!”

Dembe skids to a halt in front of him, lookingdecidedly happier than he was a few hours ago.

Hm.

“Dembe, I’m going back to the suite. Stay as long asyou like, just call me when you want to leave and I’ll –”

“Raymond, no, you cannot leave.”

“What are you talking about, of course I can –”

“No.”

Red stops talking and stares at Dembe, who is rarely soblunt.

“Elizabeth would like to speak to you.”

Red stops breathing for a second, the air stutteringin his chest.

“What – you – she –”

He can’t seem to string two words together in hisshock. Dembe just smiles kindly at him.

“Come, my brother, she wants to see you.”

And Dembe takes his arm and gently pulls him towardsthe stairs. Red goes along with him in a daze, scarcely believing that he’s notasleep and having a lovely but ultimately soul-crushing dream.

(Because what else could this be?)

But then they enter Lizzie’s hallway, Dembe tugginghim firmly towards her door, and Red remembers their awful fight, the shouting,the tears, the look on her face, andhe freezes like a deer, pulling Dembe to a stop.

“But, Dembe, what if –”

(He’s so afraid. He can’t be broken again. He only hadone heart. He has nothing left to give her.)

“It will be all right, Raymond. She just wants totalk. If nothing else, just listen to her. Please.”

(And since when is Dembe such a proponent of Lizzie’s?If Red didn’t know any better, he’d have thought Dembe harbored a littleresentment toward her for all the emotional trauma she’s unintentionally put Redthrough over the years. Nothing overt, since Dembe never is, but still therenevertheless. How odd.)

Red tears his gaze away from Dembe and turns to lookat Lizzie’s door, still hesitant and unsure, and Dembe sighs.

“Raymond, please, trust me. I would not steer youwrong. Either of you.”

Red’s eyes flit back to Dembe’s face to look at hisfeatures, relaxed and content, his familiar face doing much to calm him.

He’s right, of course.

(Red trusts Dembe with his life. Surely his heart issafe in his hands as well.)

Red nods and pats Dembe on the shoulder, movingforward by himself to put his hand on the handle of Lizzie’s door.

(This is it.)

And, feeling strangely as though this is a moment hemay or may not come back from alive, he turns the handle.

It looks much like the first time he walked into theroom last night to see her asleep, resting, recuperating from her accident. However,this time, she’s awake and alert, sitting up in bed, staring fixedly at him ashe enters the room. Her blue eyes seem to pierce right through him. He lowershis gaze automatically, feeling strangely shy in her presence, in a way henever has before.

(It makes sense though, he thinks distractedly,feeling her eyes on him, unwavering. She knows everything now. What he feels. Allof him. So, of course, he’s shy.)

But he makes himself raise his eyes to meet her gazeas he gently shuts her door behind him. He can’t hide from her. Not now. Thenhe stands there looking at her, feeling a little stupid. Dembe said she wantedto talk so why is she just staring? He doesn’t understand the look in her eyes.Why won’t she –

“Hi, Red.”

Oh. Oh, she said his name. Well, his nickname, but itdoesn’t matter because he never thought he’d hear her speak again, let alonehear let his name pass her beautiful lips so pleasantly and –

“Well, don’t just stand there, silly. Come and sitnext to me.”

Yes, that sounds like the Lizzie he knows. His mouthtwitches up in a grin.

(Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s wondering howshe can be talking to him like this, after all that happened between them thelast time they met. Granted, that was over a month ago now but he knows how thatnight is still painfully etched in his memory, so surely it must be in herstoo? But he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She’s talking to him.That in itself is incredible, whatever her motives. So, he’ll listen.)

But she’s still staring.

Then Lizzie raises her eyebrows in her signaturesardonic amusement, as if to ask why the hell he’s still standing there. Hesmiles to himself. Good question, that.

He moves forward slowly, feeling as though he’s tryingnot to startle a wild animal – though he’s not completely sure that animal is Lizzie– and settles back in the chair by her bedside.

(He wishes he never left.)

He looks at her cherished face and waits, noexpectation, just thankfulness. Dembe said she wanted to talk to him and all hehad to do was listen. So, that’s what he’ll do.

For a long minute, she just stares back at him, her eyesroving slowly over his face, her expression still inscrutable.

“Dembe said you stayed with me last night,” she saysfinally, quietly.

Red simply nods at her. The ‘of course’ goes unspokenbetween them.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, her blue eyes lookingstrangely wet. “You didn’t have to. It was just a little accident, I’m barely hurt.”

Red’s eyes flit to her arm, still in a sling, and thento her leg, still suspiciously large under the blankets, before moving back toher face.

“My arm is just a sprain,” she says, wiggling it asmuch as she can to demonstrate. “And there’s just a cut on my leg. I mean, itwas pretty deep so needed a lot of stitches, but that’s the only reason it’swrapped up. The car that t-boned me wasn’t going too fast.”

Red’s gaze darkens at the thought of the car and, moreimportantly, the driver that did this to Lizzie. It wouldn’t be too hard tofind them. Just pull traffic camera footage of the crash, Dembe could hacktheir system easily enough, get the license plate number, and –

“Red.”

Red snaps back to the present to see Lizzie looking athim knowingly, her lips pursed in disapproval.

“Don’t you even,” she says darkly. He widens his eyes,trying to look as though he wasn’t just contemplating murder in her name but,by the looks of her, she doesn’t buy it for a minute. She rolls her eyes at him.“It was an accident. They weren’t even on their phone or anything. Now I cansee you thinking about it and I won’t let it happen. Do you understand me?”

Red lowers his gaze, feeling slightly guilty at being calledout, and sighs in acquiescence.

“Good,” she murmurs, happy again. Red looks back up ather, studying her lovely smile, feeling more confused more than ever.

(He’s certainly glad she’s not crying or yelling orrunning away but he’s not really sure why she’s not. Nothing has changed, at leastnot with his feelings, since they last talked. So why is she actingdifferently?)

“Red,” she starts, a little more serious now. Perhapsshe’s going to tell him. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Yes, here it is. He just nods again, afraid butmorbidly curious, as always.

(He supposes he’s like a cat in that way. Nine livesand all.)

“I asked Dembe to track you down. I was hoping hewould manage to catch you before you left. I’m glad he did.”

He can do nothing but blink at her in surprise. Glad?What is she talking about?

She sees the confusion creasing his brow and sighs.She looks down to pick at some lint on her hospital blanket before taking adeep breath and looking up at him again.

“Red, do you know where I was going last night, when Igot in…my little accident?”

Red frowns. Of course, he doesn’t know. Herdestination hadn’t even crossed his mind when Dembe told him she was hurt. Hesimply wanted to know if she was all right. Besides, he had made it hisbusiness to know nothing of Lizzie’s whereabouts after their fight. Why was sheasking? What could –

“I was coming to see you.”

Oh.

Red’s mouth falls open a little, completely shocked.Him? She was coming to see him?

“Dembe called me,” she says softly. Red frowns alittle at that. He told Dembe not to –

Oh.

That’s why Dembe had been so beside himself when shewas injured, that’s why he knew right away. They were in contact because he waswaiting for her to arrive. That’s why he was so upset, that’s why he was sodesperate to get to the hospital. If Lizzie had been seriously hurt, it wouldhave been his fault. That’s why Dembe stayed with her for so long today, that’swhy Dembe –

Oh, Dembe.

“Don’t be mad at Dembe, Red, I’m certainly not. He wasworried about you. He told me…how you were dealing with things. He asked me ifmaybe I could find it in myself to come and talk to you.”

Red opens his mouth, this time on purpose, about totell her that if Dembe forced her or guilted her into anything at all, he –

“It’s okay, Red,” she stops him before he can even geta word out. “Honestly, I was…thinking about coming to see you anyway. I…Well,you gave me plenty of time to think about things, which I’m very grateful for.A month was enough time for me to sort through…everything.”

(Had she been counting the days too?)

“And the more I thought about it, the worse I feltabout how I left things with you. You told me something…and I know it was veryhard for you. And I’m ashamed of how I reacted.”

Red starts to shake his head immediately. No, he wantsto say, it was he who was out of line, throwing something like that at her theway he did. After all, Tom had just died and she had just found out things,things he had kept from her and –

“Look, I have a whole speech planned, so could youjust let me get this out, please?”

Red looks at her for a moment, sitting there, her hairpulled back in a messy ponytail, stitches on her cheek, gazing at himhopefully.

(He couldn’t possibly love her more.)

He nods.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “Well, I was coming to seeyou…to apologize. I behaved badly because I was overwhelmed by everything youtold me and the…last thing you said was just the cherry on top. I hope maybe youcan understand that.”

She looks down for a moment, letting her words rest inthe air around them. Red just sits there trying to absorb them. She’s sorry. Lizzieis sorry. It still hurts, of course, it was a huge blow, but her apology goes along way to making it better.

(He feels better.)

She still has his heart, of course, and he doesn’twant it back. He’d rather muddle along without it. And when she invariably askshim to go in a few minutes, apology delivered, he will go quietly, thankfully,grateful that he got closure. It’s more than he ever could have asked for andhe –

“And there’s one more thing.”

More? There can’t possibly be anything more that shecan say that could make him feel more at ease. She can send him away, it’sokay, he –

“I thought more about what you said, the…last thing,that is, and I wanted to tell you that…Well, I’m not sure how to say this,actually.”

She bites her lip and Red frowns.

“I, uh…I don’t know if I can give you what you want,Red. I’ve thought and thought about what you said, once I was able to, and howyou feel about me does make sense. If I wasn’t such an idiot, I probably wouldhave seen it before.”

(What is happening?)

“But, now that you’ve told me, I have thought aboutit, I really have. A lot. And…I think I need some more time. Tom was…both thebest and worst part of my life. I loved him. But he wasn’t real. And all of thatcame to light in a relatively short period of time and…now he’s dead. And I’mnot broken up about it anymore, I’ve made my peace with things, but I won’t beready for a relationship for a while. Not with anyone.”

(What is she saying?)

“But…when I’m ready, who knows? It could happen. WhatI mean is…well, I know that it’s really not fair of me to ask you to waitaround but…if I could just have some more time. Not long, really, another fewweeks, maybe, and, well…I’d like to get to know you better.”

(What?)

“Because I’ve realized over the past few weeks that Ireally don’t know that much about you. I mean, I know what color eyes you have andwhat kind of suits you wear and what crazy foods you eat. But I don’t know whereyou grew up or how you like your tea or what side of the bed you like to sleepon. And the more I think about it…the more I think I’d like to. And yet, at thesame time, I realized that the only thing I do know about you is that you careabout me. You…you love me. And, really, at the end of the day, what else do Ineed to know?”

Oh.

She gives a quick little shrug of her shoulders, a littlequirk of her mouth, like it’s fuckingobvious, and something clenches in his chest.

Oh, Lizzie.

“Anyway,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes in aself-deprecating way and giving an adorable little huff. “What I’m trying toask is…will you wait for me? And, in a few week’s time, when I’m ready…will yougo out with me?”

(He can’t breathe.)

She looks up when she says the last six words and hersudden, direct gaze pins him to his seat. He is frozen in shock. Not coldshock, like before, not that awful freezing thing. More like a warm, flowing,surprising thing. Surprising but welcome. Completely, definitely, perfectlywelcome.

(He can’t believe it.)

“Red?” Lizzie asks, chuckling nervously. “Um, you inthere? You, uh, haven’t said anything since you walked in. Are you…okay?”

Oh, yes, he should talk. He should put her at ease. Heshouldn’t leave her waiting. That’s not fair. He should speak.

(He should tell her that he’ll wait forever.)

Red clears his throat, feeling as though he’s gettingrid of all the sadness and tears and alcohol that have gathered there over thepast month. It feels wonderful. But Lizzie is still looking at him expectantlyso he blinks a few times, works his jaw, tries to speak past the all the lovehe has for her.

(It’s not easy.)

“Y-Yes,” he manages after an unintentionally suspensefulmoment. Lizzie lets out a breathy gasp.

“Oh,” she half sighs, half laughs. It’s a wonderfulsound. “Oh, okay, good,” she smiles blindingly. “Wait, yes, what? Just toclarify, because I don’t want –”

“Yes, to everything,” he finally interrupts her in arush. “Yes, I’ll wait, yes, I’ll go out with you, yes, yes, yes.”

And they’re laughing together, giggling desperately,and, oh, all the pain is gone, everything’s okay.

(Not everything, of course. She has hurt him and he hasscared her and those wounds will take time to heal. But now they have time. That’s all that matters.)

And Lizzie tentatively offers her hand to him, palm upon her bedspread, a gentle question.

(He appreciates the choice she is giving him. Morethan she can know. He is still fragile.)

But he delights in reaching out and watching hisfingers close gently around hers. He’s allowed to touch her. She wants him to.

(She wantshim.)

Yes, everything will be okay. Lizzie can take as muchtime as she wants and he will wait here for her and he can court her and dateher and she will give him a chance –

Yes, everything will be just fine.

Because his heart is here to stay.

[thesocialfables]

“That don’t piss you off, even a little?” Ortega questioned Dasun as they restocked the shelves at the corner store they both worked at. Dasun wouldn’t consider the man a friend, rather somebody to just pass the time with. “Maybe it’s just me. Cause my older brother ain’t shit.”

Dasun was the second oldest of the six Bannister Boys. Growing up, he and Heir were thick as thieves. If you had a problem with Heir, you had a problem with Dasun. That was until their father went to jail, and Heir took on the role of providing. Since that meant hanging around dangerous places, Heir began to leave Dasun at home and their bond weakened a little. Soon Heir became less of an older brother and more of a father figure.

“Naw, not really. Our Mom calls Heir twelve thousand times a day. And he has two jobs.”

“Aw shit,” Ortega said before the two shared a quick laugh. “See my older brother just gives Mexicans a bad name, reinforcing stereotypes and shit.”

“Ortega,” Dasun spoke. He paused for a beat, before looking his coworker in the eyes to jokingly say. “You work in a bodega.”

“Yeah, but, bodegas are usually run by Puerto Ricans.” Ortega pointed out, before finishing up his comparison of his family and Dasun’s. “My brother just gotta play tough all the time.”

“That’s all brothers. I know mines do.” Dasun wasn’t sure where this conversation was going after Ortega asked ‘how was his day off’.  Dasun was extremely grateful for everything his older brother did for him and his brothers. He didn’t need a spotlight on him to feel seen.

“You think after everything he watched our Mom go through, he’d be a little nicer to women, you know. But nope, he wanna be a gangster so bad.” Done with both the conversation and restocking, Dasun moved away from Ortega as he continued to talk about his family problems. He felt bad hearing what Ortega and his family had persevered, but he couldn’t sympathize with him without feeling like a hypocrite.

Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to as the bell above the door alerted them a customer had entered the small shop. As Dasun approached the cash register to help the customer, he already knew who it was by the sound of their voice. “Let me get a fifth a Hennessey, a fifth of Patron, a fifth of Belvedere, some Dutches, Backwoods, a White Owl, and  whatever else you got back there.”

“Damn, you plan on having a party later?” Dasun asked, ignoring everything Shantell had asked for. While it was because they didn’t sell liquor at the store, he also didn’t budge because he knew she didn’t drink or smoke.

“Only if you plan on coming through after you get off.” She said picking up one of the random items next to the register.

“Sure,” Dasun said taking the light-up pen from her hands and putting it back. “My Mom got another date.”

“With your uncle?” Shantell teased. She and Dasun had been friends since 4th grade. And the answer to the question everyone always asked was no – they had never dated or slept together. Although after watching the man Dasun had grown up to be, Shantell wouldn’t mind if they took a trip out of the friend zone for a while. “How’s your back?” She questioned in a low tone, well aware of the signals Ortega was sending to Dasun from behind her, urging him to introduce them.

 “It still hurts a little. But that’s only because my doctor only gave me three fucking pills.”

“Well, I didn’t want to overprescribe you.”

“Girl, you just didn’t want to share.”

“Exactly. Take your ass to a real doctor and get your own prescription.” Dasun just shook his head. She didn’t drink or smoke, but she did pop pills. And the Percocet she had given him a few weeks ago wasn’t even her prescription to begin with. “Y’all seriously don’t sell liquor, huh?”

“Did you really want that shit?”

“Hell, naw. But I really am having a kickback tonight.”

“No thank you.”

“I didn’t even invite you yet!” She yelled as Dasun traveled over to the deli counter. Knowing what his bestie had really stopped in the store, other than just to bother him. “I want you to-”

“I got enough people trying to set me up, thank you.”

“Thank should probably tell you something.” Dasun just remained quiet. He hadn’t been single or home from the county jail longer than a week and his family and friends were already planning his life for him. “Extra onions please.”

“Onions?” Dasun paused. “You ain’t having no fucking party.”

“Yes, I am. I like onions.”

“I’m not putting extra onions. How you gone bag that doctor with onion breath?”

“He was married,” After graduating for Smithdale, Shantell was doing her residency at the university’s teaching hospital. While preparing to make his best friend the dip she wanted for her party, Dasun just shook his head. Shantell had the worst luck when it came to dating. But he had little room to judge, as he too had found himself entangled with the wrong one. “I’mma just wait for Little Man to graduate.”

“What happened to Heaven?” He asked uninterested in the rest of the conversation.

“Nothing, why, did he say something about me?” Shantell said. She wanted to sound like she was joking, but Heaven was too fine to play with.

“He did actually,” Dasun said laughing. “He asked were you still a virgin.”

“What you tell him?” It was quiet between the two friends for a moment, as Dasun tried to see if Shantell was joking or not. “I’m running out of options out here.”

“I told him the truth. Every nigga that ever fucked never called you again. Here’s your dip.”

“Yo, we sell that shit here?” Ortega asked picking up the container. “Now I won’t have to cross the boardwalk.” Both Shantell and Dasun just looked at each other. The store they worked at did not sell the mixture of cream cheese, white cheddar cheese, mayo, tomatoes, onions, spinach, bacon, and ground beef. It was a hood staple on the other side of the boardwalk, where the projects were. Known on this side as the bad part of town that Dasun and his family had escaped.

“Naw, I just know how to make it. It’s really simple, anybody can do it actually. I mean, besides ratchet nurses that can’t cook.” Shantell responded by sticking her middle finger up at Dasun’s sly joke.

“I forgot you knew how to cook, nig- I mean, Dasun.” Shantell cleared her throat before taking the container from the boy. “My bad,” Ortega went to explain his use of the word, but Dasun and Shantell just moved on in their conversation over his voice.

“You know, you really should talk to mister – whoever about selling Rico Dip here. N-word not included, of course.”

“But that’s the best part.” The two laughed for a moment before Shantell went to pay for the 3 dollar delicacy. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, if we do sell it, I’m charging a dub.”

“20 dollars? Good lord!” Shantell joked before tossing a twenty on the counter. “Now make me another, with no onions this time. You know onion breath.” Dasun teased her some more before creating another dip for her. “So,” She started, before checking to see where Ortega was in the store. “Have you talked to Tempest?”

Dasun sighed heavily in response. He really hoped they could’ve finished talking without his ex-girlfriend having to come up. “No. And don’t say that name again. You know who is like Beetlejuice.”

“In more ways than one.” Shantell agreed. “Unfortunately, you gone have to say something to her soon. Ole Beetlejuice showed up to the hospital today.”

“And then you came here?” Dasun asked on high alert. He quickly pulled his phone out to check all the blocked calls and text messages Tempest had left for him. “Why would you do that?”

“Relax, Tina Turner. This ain’t my first time dealing with your love life. I switched cars with a friend, drove through college row, and I still parked up the street.”

“You didn’t have to do all that.” As Dasun spoke, he sent Tempest a simple message letting her know he was still alive and there was no reason to call his parole officer.

“Yes I did, she still caught me.”

“She’s here!” Shantell tried hard not to laugh at her friend. She may not have mastered getting guys to call her back, but Dasun had been dealing with Tempest since their sophomore year of high school. And as much as they needed to stop calling each other, they never did.

“No, I’m joking, relax. Your trauma starting to show.”

“Just take the long way home.” He said before ignoring Tempest’s fifth call in the last minute, slipping his phone back into his pocket and passing Shantel another dip container. “And if you see her again, tell her I died.”

“That’s not gone stop her. She’ll just kill herself to beat your ass for dying.” The look on Dasun’s face let Shantell know her joke was too far, but she could care less what part offended him. It was all true.

“You know, if I was a girl-” Dasun started to defend himself since no one else was going to.

“Nope, not doing this with you today.” Shantell said preparing to leave the store. “You really should sneak over tonight. My friend told me told she has no gag reflex today.”

“Shit, she like Mexicans?” Ortega attempted to rejoin the conversation. However, the look both Dasun and Shantell passed him let him know to never speak again.

“I’ll think about it.”

“And tell Heaven, if he needs anything-”

“I’m his girlfriends are taking very good care of him.” Shantell rolled her eyes to the sound of the bell ringing, before exiting the store.

 As Shantell exited, another young girl walked in. Dasun was already looking in the direction of the door, 100% sure that Tempest had found him after all. However, it wasn’t her. Locking eyes with the customer, Dasun smiled to greet her and tried not to stare too hard when she smiled back. She was cute, with a heart-shaped face, almond nose, and natural brown curls.

“Can I get a,” She paused for a moment, looking up at the handmade sign of what the store offered. However, what she had been sent to get from the store wasn’t on the menu. “I don’t think I’m in the right place.”

“What you looking for?” Dasun asked, trying not to look around the girl to see if the back matched the front.

“A Rico Dip?” She spoke, still unsure.

“See, we missing out on money. My boy, know how to make it though. He’ll hook you up.” Ortega interjected from his side of the counter. As he spoke, the girl moved over to him to pay. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I got you. What’s your name?” Dasun just shook his head, as he prepared to whip up the dip for the girl.

“Chassidy,” She answered. Her voice was clear that she wasn’t interested, but she wasn’t trying to be rude. “Can I get it with no mayo and sour cream instead?”

“Oh, that’s the old school way.”  Ortega flirted, not catching the hint. “You grabbing this for your OG?” Meanwhile, Dasun had stopped making the dip and was staring at the girl from behind. His mother had sent her here. Ever since he came home, she had been bragging about her boyfriend’s niece, Chassidy who went to Tech U and was now a chef. The life his mother wished for Dasun. A life he once wished for as well.

“Juliette.” Dasun answered for Chassidy. The girl laughed a little, before moving back closer to Dasun.

“Busted,” She said with a memorable smile. “Hi, I’m Chassidy.” She said extending her hand for him to shake. Not wanting to rude himself, Dasun took her hand and introduced himself. “I told her I probably shouldn’t order something she usually gets, but she insisted. Just like this very awkward meeting.”

“That’s my mom. You can tell her I figured it out though. And I am not making her shit.” Chassidy laughed a little before admitting that was fair. “Well, don’t tell her I said the last part.”

“Oh, I wasn’t. She scares me. I was gonna make it myself before I went back empty-handed.”

“You’re a chef right?”                

“That’s an overstatement, but yes. I work uptown at the casino.” Dasun paused for a moment, keeping his thoughts to himself. He had to admit, this wasn’t a horrible match up. “Oh, I know the foods nasty. I’m pretty sure they do it on purpose. I just follow orders.”

“Well, since you obviously have working taste buds. I’ll save you from a hungry Juliette Baptiste this time.” Chassidy smiled while Dasun continued making another dip for his mother. “Just out of curiosity, is Percy really your uncle? Cause he damn sure wasn’t mine.”

With a soft laugh, Chassidy admitted, “You are pretty funny. And yes, he is. That’s not bad is it?” Listening to the tone of her voice, Dasun wanted to tell her that it was fine and arrange a date of their own like he was sure his meddling mother wanted after all. But Dasun knew it was only a matter of time before his fatal attraction caught up to him and he was better off not getting involved with anybody.  On the other hand, as Shantell would say, Chassidy was too fine to ignore.

“Naw. Unless lies and manipulation runs in your family.” Dasun said turning on his hereditary Bannister charm with a simple smile and intense eye contact. As always, it seemed to work as Chassidy’s yellow skin warmed and she smiled brightly.

Smiling and laughing, Chassidy proved she too had a sense of humor as she shot back, “Does it run in yours?”

“Unfortunately,” He playfully admitted as he placed the lid on the container. “Thankfully, it skipped me though.” He spoke holding the container out for Chassidy to take before pulling it back. “She gave you money for this, didn’t she?

“She did not.”

“Damn,” Dasun said passing the dip over. “Well, I guess I’ll have to take you out some time. You know to pay you back.”

“I think that’s fair enough.” She said still smiling. As Dasun pulled his phone out to get her number, he heard the bell jingle and his heart slowed down.

“This what the fuck we doing, now? You supposed to be working, not getting white bitches phone numbers.” He didn’t know how she could see what he was up too when she had barely made it in the store before filling the space with her voice. Then again, Dasun was convinced that Tempest could read his thoughts. Even from miles away. “He has a girlfriend, sweetheart. So you take your little sandwich and keep it moving.” Just as she dismissed Chassidy with her words, Tempest stepped in front of the girl and zeroed in on Dasun. “You and me need to talk, outside, right now. And I’m not playing with either, Dasun. You not outside in two minutes, I’m coming back in this bitch. And next time I ain’t gone be so friendly.” Turning back around to see that Chassidy had not budged, Tempest sized the girl up before roughly grabbing a bag of chips from the side of her and leaving the store.

“Your mom has my number,” Chassidy whispered after the bell’s jingle and for the first time in his 23 years, Dasun was actually grateful that his Mom couldn’t stay out of his business. “Give me a call whenever you can.”

“You probably shouldn’t go out there.” Dasun warned as Chassidy went to leave the store. He didn’t even want to go deal with Tempest, but he had no other choice. Because otherwise she was coming back inside the store and she wouldn’t be so calm. “I mean….No, I’m sorry. That’s exactly what I mean.”

 As he headed outside, Dasun didn’t know what part of Tempest’s presence upset him more; her clearly stalking his friend to find out where he was, her interfering with him moving on with his life, or her humiliating him in front of Ortega. “Tempest.” He attempted to gain control of their interaction and prove himself to no one else but himself.

“What you got me blocked on something? Don’t make me call your fucking parole officer, Dasun. I thought you died.”

“Why would’ve I have died? Is it because you hit me with your car!”

“Who you yelling at? Don’t let the little white girl in there get your shit split nigga. I tapped you. You the one talking about we breaking up.”

“We did break up.”

“Stop fucking yelling at me!”

 “I’m not yelling!” Before Dasun could say anything else, Tempest’s fits were colliding into his arm. “Will you stop?” He asked. But the girl continued, punching Dasun at any part of his body he used to defend himself against her. “Seriously, Tempest, clam down. I wasn’t even talking to her like that.”

“What you think I’m fucking stupid!” She screamed. She may have been done hitting him for now, but that was when the shoving started. “I saw you with your phone out motherfucker. What was you giving her directions? Little white girl couldn’t find her way to the beach?”

“I don’t even think she’s white.” Dasun slipped out in-between the girl’s shoves. However, he knew his comment meant it was time to start running before the punches started up again.

“BITCH, DOES IT LOOK LIKE I FUCKING CARE.” Tempest shouted chasing behind him. As Dasun avoided Tempest’s punches, Ortega and Chassidy stepped outside to watch the show – as did the rest of the busy intersection. “Okay, you wanna fucking play. I’mma just call Heir.” Dasun tried not to stop running, but he really didn’t want her to call his brother. Because it did piss him off. Heir was only one year older than Dasun, and somehow he managed to strike fear in all his siblings like they were all still children.

“Why would you do that?” He questioned falling for Tempest’s bluff and being caught off guard as she charged him in the middle of the street, toppling his body over. Landing on his back, which was already damaged from the last time they got into a disagreement, Dasun screamed in pain as Tempest just climbed on top of him and began hitting him. Dasun could hear the car horns blowing for them to get out of the street, and everyone on the street commentating as if the scene was funny. And just as he couldn’t take anymore and balled his fist up to strike Tempest back, he felt her weight be lifted off of him.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Chassidy’s voice spoke as she pulled Tempest off of Dasun and attempted to help him up out the street. “You okay?”

“You better get your bitch, Dasun before I scarp her ass too. I fight bitches too.” Tempest spoke as she took a moment to catch her breath and prepare to fight again. This time she wasn’t going to hold back.

“That should be all you fight.” Chassidy spoke with reason as she leaned down to check on Dasun, who just continued to cry out in pain. “He’s really hurt.” She said looking up to Tempest, who she assumed would be worried since she was supposedly his girlfriend.

“He’ll be fucking fine. You, on the other hand, need to mind your fucking business.”

“Dasun-” Chassidy called attempting to help the boy once more. That was until Tempest was ready for her second fight and charged her next. However, before she could reach Chassidy, Dasun tripped the girl and used whatever strength he had left to place his body on top of hers in the middle of the street.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you I wasn’t fucking talk to her.”

“I don’t care! Get off of me!” Tempest began to wail. And just as it always was anytime Tempest couldn’t get her hands to herself, the crowd watching them began to call for Dasun to get off of her.

 “Did anybody call the police?” Shantell asked treating the bruise to Dasun’s back and ribs. Thankfully nothing was broken too bad, as he had minor bruising and some swelling.

“No. But I got fired so, no more Rico Dip on this side of the boardwalk.”

“I’m sure yo nigga will figure it out for the culture.” She teased. “Here.” She said passing him a full bottle of perception pills for his pain. “You really should go to the hospital.”

“And say what?”

“The truth.”

“That my girlfriend beat me up? I’m straight. Beside my parole office would love that. He’d lock my ass for sure this time.”

After the fiasco in front of the bodega, not only could Dasun barely move but his boss arrived just in time to fire him. Tempest tried to do the right thing and explain the situation to the shop owner in his defense. But of course, her attitude just made things worse as she ended up just threatening to beat him and his family up. After Tempest left Dasun in the street, Ortega and Chassidy helped him out of the street and to his car, but Dasun was too embarrassed to ask for any more help. Lashing out on both of them, he attempted to drive off. Only to end up crashing his car into a stop sign, blinded by the pains in his back. Thankfully the one person it seemed Tempest couldn’t run off was Shantell, as the girl showed up to nurse him back to health as she always did.

“Your girlfriend?” Shantell questioned, before helping Dasun sit back into her couch.

"You know what I mean.” He said exhausted. “What happened to your party?”

“You should’ve hit her. You should’ve just,” Shantell used her hands to describe Dasun choking the shit out of Tempest. “You said your step-cousin tried to help you?” she over spoke him, attempting to change the subject.

“You canceled your party because of me?” Dasun repeated, wanting an answer.

“It was just a little kickback. I can still call No-Gag for you, though.”

“Ortega told me to tell you don’t be a stranger, nigga.” As Dasun joked, his eyes began to close as he rested his head on the back of the couch. While he relaxed, Shantell watched him breathe. In the silence of her apartment, she took her bottom lip into her mouth and considered just taking Dasun for a slow ride right here on her couch. If there was any time to do it, it was now because he could’ve used the win. “Stop staring at me. I’ll be fine.”

“Ain’t nobody staring.” She quickly shot, before climbing off the couch and stepping into the kitchen for a moment to clear her thoughts. “You know, this girl came into the clinic for an abortion a couple days ago. She said she remembered you from when you used to work at Hoagies and you use to make all them off-menu sandwiches and shit.”

“Oh yeah? Not from when Tempest literally drove through the drive-thru?”

“Naw, she remembered that too. But it made me think of something else. Does Heaven still have his spot in Sam-Yo?”

“Yeah,” Dasun asked lifting his head a bit, for his eyes to follow Shantell’s body back to the couch. She had an athletic body type, wrapped in smooth dark chocolate and the right sized almond mounds that complimented her frame perfectly. It definitely wasn’t always easy just being the girl’s friend. But every time Dasun thought about doing something more he would remember that if he fucked up their relationship, he’d have nobody else but Tempest by his side. “Why?” He asked adjusting a bit on the couch to watch her eat the dip she brought earlier.

"Well,” She said before sticking a cracker full into her mouth.

“You gotta bake it yourself, doctor.”

“I like it cold.” She responded, which was absolutely not true. Without being hot, the odd mixture of foods was not appetizing. Shantell spit the food out in a napkin, before continuing her thought. “You should sell dinner plates out of the apartment. Your step-niece and the culture vulture could help you.”

“And when Tempest comes through and kills us all?”

“Shit,” Shantell said before inquiring how to heat the dip up. “Maybe she can take the orders or some shit. Wait, why are you including her in this?”

 “I was trying to get Chassidy number.” Dasun admitted. Before he had to return to the county jail for a few days because of his domestic case, he had broken up with Tempest. But it was obvious she didn’t accept the breakup, so Dasun had no choice but to admit he was wrong.

“So? You took your beating already, Miss Celie. Fuck her.” After all these years, Shantell couldn’t understand what was keeping Dasun and Tempest together. He may have managed to keep his composure today, but Dasun didn’t have two strikes for domestic violence for being always being so demure.

Before Dasun could respond to Shantell’s bad joke, there was a knock at her door. “Is that your married doctor friend?”

Although he couldn’t see her, Shantell stuck her middle finger up as she passed by Dasun towards the apartment door. “It’s God. He said shut the fuck up.” She shot stepping aside to let Heir into her apartment.

“You good, man?” He asked looking at Dasun’s position on the couch before he sat down himself. After he raised his hands to let his brother know he was fine, Heir continued talking. “I talked to your boss, he said you can have your job back if you want. Now before you think I tried to save the day, he called me. Said Momma’s little friend had already convinced him it wasn’t your fault. And he wants you to start selling Rico Dip at the bodega.”

“That’s amazing! See, Sun.” Shantell called from the kitchen as she sat down to properly eat her food. “And then you can still do my idea. You’ll be too busy to even see Tempest Jones, Jr.”

“Come on, Shantell.” Dasun warned. Not only because he was tired of the jokes, but mostly because it really hurt to laugh at them. She may have given him all of Miss Whoever’s pills but she didn’t open them nor give him one. “You the worse nurse ever.”

“What’s your idea?” Heir asked. After Shantell ran down the idea for him, Dasun already knew what he was going to say. Heir was always supportive of anything his brothers attempted to do. He’d probably upgrade the kitchen for Dasun to cook out of. “I don’t know about that. We left Sam-Yo for a reason. Maybe, just work at the bodega for now. See how that goes for a little while.”

As Dasun looked over to his big brother, the sharp pain in his side had nothing on the one in his heart. “What you don’t think I can do it?”

“I don’t think that’s how he meant-”

“Shut up, Shantell.” Dasun shot before he ignored all the pain in his body and stood up to challenge Heir’s authority. He was tired of being treated like the weak one of the bunch with the very little respect he got from everybody. “I ain’t scared of no fucking body. You left Sam-Yo, not us. I ain’t ask to move nowhere. And I’m a grown-ass man I don’t need your permission to do anything.”

“Son-Sun,” Heir spoke sympathetically, calling Dasun by the childhood nickname he had outgrown. Hearing himself, Heir stopped and stood to talk to his brother like a man. “That ain’t what I’m saying at, Dasun. I know you can handle yourself. And if I didn’t before, you proved that to me today. You absolutely right, you don’t need my permission. Just…watch out for Tempest and JonJon when you down there.” He went to pull his brother into a hug but figured his body didn’t need the stress. So instead Heir gave Dasun, a soft dap to his forehead before dropping the hint that moved him to speak against the idea in the first place. “They’ll probably be together.”

[modestmondays]

Is there really evidence that Jasper shouldn't be redeemed?

Thanks for asking! First, theshort answer: no. There is no evidence that she won’t, and plenty of evidencethat she will.

Now for the long answer. Forthis, I’ll have to break up the question into a few different parts, and unpackthose.

Let’s start with: Redemption

 I know that “redemption” in thiscase is just fan shorthand for “stops being an antagonist” but it carriesparticular connotations that we need to acknowledge. Because it references themany other stories where there’s one group that is Good and Pure, and a secondgroup that is Evil and Corrupt. The “redeemed” character moves from the lattergroup, to the former group. In many of those stories, this transition is oftenaccompanied by a sacrifice (especially a self-sacrifice) both to balance themoral weight of their prior actions, and to reassure us that this is a realredemption (occasionally there will instead be a proxy baptism, because a lotof these arcs draw heavily on Christian conversion narratives). Evil charactershave to get what’s coming to them, after all. Their change must come at a cost.

 But that’s not the kind of showSteven Universe has ever been. The Crystal Gems are not perfect paragons ofvirtue, and Homeworld is not a collection of relentlessly evil monsters. Homeworld doesn’t go around trying to hurt humans. They’re indifferent, not malicious. And there are more episodesabout the CGs hurting each other thanthere are about the conflict with Homeworld. Even after thousands of years,Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl are still struggling to be better people. Steven islearning how to be a better person.

 Because that’s another key partof the show. People are people. Not heroes, not villains. Everyone is trying todo what’s important to them, everyone hurts others (accidentally, incidentally,or deliberately), and no one is beyond hope. The show emphasizes this over, andover, and over. I’ll highlight just a few key examples, otherwise we’ll be hereall day:

1)      Peridot.When she first showed up, she was a terrifying, heartless antagonist, crushingan injured flask robonoid with no hesitation or remorse. She was on Earthbecause she had a job to do here. She cared about doing a good job, and aboutHomeworld. And she still does. The only difference is that now, she sees thevalue of Earth for Homeworld. Withthe resource crisis there as intense as it is (a crisis that is especiallypersonal for our poor era 2 gem, especially without her limb enhancers), it’sno wonder that she’d want to protect this planet.

 It may seem thatPeridot has also gone from being a bad person to a good one, but that’s notreally true. She’s the same person she’s always been. The only difference isthat she’s learned to look beyond the superficial categories of Homeworld’shierarchies—something she likely never had an opportunity to do back onHomeworld itself.

 So that’sPeridot’s “redemption”—she still wants what’s best for Homeworld and she hasn’tchanged her value system. All she’s done is learn more about the Earth andabout other gems, and realized that she was under-valuing them. This isterrific, but it’s not a change from villain to hero.

 2)      Marty.Marty is an awful person. He got Vidalia pregnant, but never respected her, andwas never a good father to Sour Cream. Eventually, he just walked out on bothof them, and never returned. All he cared about was himself and his ownsuccess.

 But then hecomes back (because of a legal obligation to Greg), meets Sour Cream again, andoffers to make up for everything. And everyone gives him a chance! He was agarbage person, but maybe he’s different now. Of course, he isn’t, and it wasall a self-interested stunt, but no one criticizes Sour Cream for trying.

 3)      Kevin.Also a terrible person. Kevin cares about getting attention. He wantseverything to be about himself and how great he is, even if that means ignoringwhen other people want him to stop. He’s consistently awful to Stevonnie, butwhen it looks like he’s opening up about past trauma during the race, they hearhim out, and begin to sympathize with his story. It was, unfortunately, justanother game for him, but they were willing to listen.

But wait, I was supposed to betalking about Jasper. Why am I making you read about all these other people?Because they all got the same thing: a chance. Not a chance to “stop being evil”or “start being good”. But instead, a chance to be understood, to stop doingthings that hurt others (and themselves), and to start doing things to helpothers (and themselves). Everyone, always, has that chance.

There’s no balancing the scalesinvolved, no punishment to fit the crime. When one of the characters doessomething terrible, like shattering Pink Diamond, it cannot be fixed or madewhole, no matter what they do in the future. But, like Pearl in Friend Ship,everyone gets a chance to give up the behavior that caused the harm, and gainor regain the trust and support of the people they hurt.

Jasper has not been given thechance. Not by someone who acknowledges her reasons for fighting. Stevonnie’soffer on the beach was not one Jasper could possibly take seriously, and Steven’soffer in Earthlings was too little, too late.

Jasper will get a real chance tochange, because the show has consistently given everyone that chance. It won’tbe a “redemption” because she wasn’t evil before, and she won’t be holy after.She’s an antagonist who has done terrible things, but she’s also a childsoldier who has survived having terrible things done to her. None of thatcancels out the rest. It’s all simply part of who she is.

And when (not if) she changes herbehavior (though she may not ever change sides), that too will become part ofwho she is, and part of what she has added to, and taken from, the world.

Second, I want to talk about “evidence”.

Because we have plenty of evidence,both within and outside of the show, that Jasper is a central character, in away that characters like Bismuth or Holly Blue Agate are not. Jasper has deepties to Earth, to Pink Diamond, to Rose’s war, and to each and every CrystalGem. We’ve seen some of her deepest feelings, her moments of crisis, hertraumas and hurt. She shows up, againand again, in the show, in the creators’ fan art, in (some) official merchandiseand tie-ins.

The evidence is clear: they wantus to understand Jasper. They want us to care about her, and about what happensto her. Narratively, everything points to her getting further development.

But, some object, she’s doneterrible things! She hurt people we care about!

Well, so has everyone else on the show. I’ve said this before, but the onlyperfectly innocent characters that we’ve seen on the show are Baby Melon and theCluster. Everyone else has lied to someone they care about, or took advantageof them, or negligently risked harm (to Steven, usually), or attacked Steven,or, you know, started a war that killed thousands.

Jasper is not uniquely terrible.She’s hurt Steven, and Garnet, and Amethyst, but so has Pearl. “Yeah, but she attacked Steven.” Well, so did LapisLazuli, and Peridot. And they actually tried to kill Steven (Jasper never did).“But, but Jasper serves Homeworld.” Well, so did Peridot. And Pearl. And RoseQuartz, once upon a time. “But, she abused Lapis.” Sorry, you’re wrong. Pleasefeel free to read more here, or elsewhere in my tags (mostly under “discourse”).I won’t be addressing it further in this post.

Anyway, none of that disqualifiesa character from changing, nor from being a better person in the future.  There are two characters who will NOT get achance at any kind of future change. They are Rose Quartz, and Pink Diamond.Being dead and gone puts a bit of a damper on that, you see. But everyone elsewho is still alive, Jasper very much included, can and will get the chance tochange.

Third, and finally, I want totalk about the idea that someone “shouldn’t be redeemed”. I’ve talked aboutthis before, at length, so I’ll summarize the two main points now.

Point one: different people inthe audience will empathize and identify with different characters. That’snatural and normal. Some people will see aspects of themselves and their traumasin characters like Pearl or Amethyst, others in characters like Lapis Lazuli orJasper. And that’s great! It gives people a chance to imagine, possibly for thefirst time, that someone like them (and by extension, they themselves) couldchange for the better, and could have a happy ending.

To say that some charactersshouldn’t get that, is to condemn that portion of your audience, to say tochildren; you, and people like you, will never be happy, will never be healthy,will never be normal or right or good. That’s false, it’s deeply harmful, andit’s a completely unacceptable message for a kid’s show, especially one aspositive and hopeful as Steven Universe.

Point two: people argue that kids“need to learn” that “not everyone can be saved”. But that’s not true. Everyonecan change their behavior, though some many need medication or therapy or rolemodels to help them make those changes (which is fine!). We may, asindividuals, need to cut people out of our lives, because we can only do somuch. But we, as a society, don’t need to give up on anyone.

The only reason to argue that wecan’t, is because you don’t want to—and that’s usually because there’s aspecific group or kind of person that you would rather not help, would rathernot see living a full and happy life (which is an awful and very common attitude,especially towards marginalized people). But the only way to ensure that we all get full and happy lives, is tomake sure that everyone does. Onceyou start making exceptions, you’ll quickly find yourself made into anexception. So, we have to save everyone.

Even Jasper.

[serenagaywaterford]

8) enlighten me. We're in total agreement about Emily + therapy. Ngl, there are times that Emily scares the shit out of me with her vigilante/revengey moves (like when she kills that Wife in the Colonies). I mean, I get it. After EVERYTHING they've put her through, she wants to tear those fuckers apart. Understandable. On the other hand, I find June's stance on this more relatable. Paraphrasing the quote that really got me: "If she knew that I helped the Commander and Serena, would she want to

9) to kill me, too?“ However, pre-Gilead!Emily was A+. (Very unpopular opinion ahead: I thought that Alexis Bledel was MUCH better acting-wise in S2 than in S1. There’s this scene after Emily’s genital mutilation, where Lydia gets out of the room and leaves Emily alone… Well, let’s just say that I expected a more… emotional performance (hurt/rage etc)… Then again, maybe 1) the director told her to show numbness and helplessness, 2) I’m being a dick. Again, I’d love to hear your thoughts.)

10) g) "like Eden, Serena, Lydia and June get the same benefit of the doubt for certain things” Hm, I wonder what all these characters have in common. /s Unfortunately, this phenomenon is quite common (not only in fandoms, but irl too) and I’m sure that a lot of people don’t do it intentionally. They just don’t realize the full implications of their ‘preferences’ or words. Misogyny can be subtle, unnoticeable and probably filled with hypocrisy. // More in a while, bc Tumblr is cockblocking me.

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I totally understand why Emily has done what she’s done, and I’d be lying if there wasn’t a part of me that was cheering like a psycho. Mostly cos if that is ALL someone has left, it’s necessary. Gilead isn’t going to be overturned by words alone. And also, like with Emily and the running over a Guardian in front of all the other Handmaids, it was depressingly realistic. Cos you see all the Handmaids going “OMG! YAY!” but still, it accomplished NOTHING of substance. They still remained meek and quiet. It didn’t start a revolution, or even a buzz... and that’s just so indicative of the sheer power of Gilead. It’s scary and really fucking depressing. Cos it’s also reality. Sort of like June’s rebellion in stoning Janine, or Lillie’s bombing. Things get rocked a little bit but snap right back to how they were. Sure, the undercurrent grows a little bit each time but... ah. Killing the Wife was... Yikes. She is scary, because she’s so broken and hopeless. She literally has nothing left inside her except vengeance and grief. 

(Side note: I’ll admit to screaming at the TV when June was pointing the shotgun at Fred and Serena and going “SHOOT THEM!” ... and I don’t even want Serena to die. So, it was weird. But... it’s a frustrating system to be in.) 

Which is why I ship Emily/Therapy more than anything else for her. More than Emily/Sylvia, more than Emily/her son (platonically obvs), cos those things don’t magically heal trauma. (They help as support but she needs honest, genuine professional help to even start to heal and be in healthy relationships with either of them.)

Like you said, as much as I get WHY Emily has done what she’s done, I too relate more to June’s stance and methodology. I don’t think I’d have the balls Emily has lol. And I don’t think her impulsiveness is really that effective.

OMG. Okay, FULL DISCLOSURE: I am not a huge Alexis Bledel fan. (So, deffo no offence taken.) I will make a lot of people unhappy by saying I think Bledel is overrated as an actress so I agree that her acting in S1 was less than I would have liked. I too just didn’t FEEL the post-mutilation scene as much as I think I could have. Maybe it was the directing and editing too, but it just... didn’t get me. Like, it’s an absolutely horrific thing but it was just a lot of Bledel’s big blue eyes. I dunno. Massively unpopular fandom opinion right there. And I feel bad about it but a lot of Emily’s story doesn’t really do anything for me in S1 (except in the van on the way to the lynching). I also think she was slightly better in S2, although in all honesty, I don’t really rewatch Colonies episodes. I did like Emily’s flashbacks in S2 and thought she was really solid there (aside from the first one with her teaching cos I thought that, as a bio grad myself, it was just unrealistic for a prof, even an adjunct lecturer to pull aside a first year student like that and so that whole thing seemed a bit deus ex. Like it was weird and I can see why the student was a bit creeped out ngl.) And the confrontation scene between her and Janine in the Colonies was well done as well. 

That all said, I do like Emily and I do genuinely feel for her. She’s just... not on my top radar generally speaking. She’s just not in my top five fav characters although I think her story is one of the most interesting/scary/relatable/terribly sad ones. (Okay, maybe she’s tied for 5th.)

Speaking of actors I’m not a fan of... SPOILER ALERT (sorta), the casting for the new characters in S3. OMG I hate both of them sfm lol. (Chris Meloni and Elizabeth Reaser). Ugh. I was so disappointed. There are so many amazing actors to choose from and they cast those two. But that’s just me and my personal distaste. Maybe they’ll be good and I’m just a bitch, lol.

AND MAJOR WORD to the misogyny in fandom/RL thing. Much of it I don’t believe is intentional either. Which is why I prefer to call it out... but it seems even when you do, people get angry and tell you you’re just a “Serena-sympathizer” or whatever. I’m waiting for the day I’m called a (femi)Nazi or something for defending Serena over something innocuous (I will never defend her heinous actions cos, yeah, some things cannot be defended). I don’t put it past people tbh. *sigh*