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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Star Vs: Monster Bash Review or “Holy Shit Concentrated Into An Episode”

Hello everybody! I’m Jacob Mattingly and welcome back to my tom lucitor retrospective, where I go through every major apperance of everyone’s faviorite demon boy boy. In case you watch my schedule or reguarlly read this blog, and if so thank you.. especially you Kevin your a peach, you’ll know this one got pushed back two weeks because the day it was scheduled.. was the day AFTER the US Capitol Insurgency. So yeah an episode HEAVILY dealing with racisim, with a downer ending and a lot to dig into on the same day a bunch of racists stormed the captail to try and illegally keep another racist in office due to his bullshit claims the electoin was fraud, when it wasn’t he just can’t admit he lost, and their own idocy, violence and hatred was not something I could handle that day and I did some mickey mouse instead. But while the effects of said riot are still being felt, and unlike many republicans are saying we shouldn’t just “move on” or “try to heal” because the wound needs to be properly examined so the people who carved our country open with a rusty knife can be prosecuted for it, enough time has passed that I can get back on the horse and eat that horse when it comes to this episode. Also expect new tomtrospective weekly with some exceptions till it’s done. So with the real world reasons for the delay out of the way, on with the show. Previously on Star Vs: Star had a full subplot dealing with her super powered mewberity form, which was now golden and creating bunches of portals. While she wanted to just let it go loose on Eclipsa’s suggestoin, eventually it caused too much damage and Hekapoo was livid when Marco revealed he’d been covering for her and Star, realizing her friend was running himself ragged and ruined a friendship to help her, went to the source of all magic to fix things, metting the baby unicorns and with thier help gaining control over her form. While she does not use it given she JUST got it before this episode, it’s very relevant and makes her come off very stupid but we’ll get to that

In more directly relevant stuff, and our main event, we need to talk about Ms. Henious. Ms. Henious was introduced all the way back in Season 1 as head of St. Olga’s School for Wayward princsesses. She’s voiced by Jessica Walter, aka Malory Archer, Lucille Bluth and .. Fran Sinclair from dinosaurs?

I’ll process that later. Point is she’s a talented lady and voiced Henious perfectly. Henious ran the school as a nightmarish hellhole that stripped away princsesses indviduality when they became too much for their parents. Granted some did genuinely need to be reigned in, Pony went there and so did princess squishy a princess that tried to reinact the plot of face off despite her and star not even being the same species let alone looking remotely similar.. she also liked to say camera phone a lot despite all phones being camera phones for over a decade.

But again like most reform schools it’s a hell hole dedicated more to beating and psyihholically tourturing the rebel or asshole out of you than actually helping so Star and Marco broke in to break out. It naturally was difficult and strenious but in the process our heroes freed the other girls and Marco became feminsest icon Princess Marco. And Marco’s possible gender fluidity, or being trans, was well loved and while he was later said to hate the princess marco idntenity later.. I still dont’ quite buy it and feel Disney just wanted to nip any implications in the bud. Because their stupid and often non-inclusive to the queer community and have to be fought to get inclusivity in there half the time. Could’ve been clumsy writing and the writers not getting people really relating to marco possibly being gender fluid or trans, which given this season’s clumsy writing with marco in general I could buy, but i’m banking more on disney, where one executive can somehow stonewall gay representation because apparnetly one guy was the one who objected to enchanting grom fright.. and he can also go fuck himself with an old rhino’s horn. Which horn is up to you. Also we got two major hints at the future iwth her: a creepy mural star found of monsters and Henious being revealed to have cheek marks she supressed with her very own brainwashing machine.

Our heroes revolution had uintetional side-effects as St.O’s became a party school, though it’s students actually still came back better for the moast part. Henious was thrown out, reduced to sleeping in her car with her manservant gemini and sending Rasticore, a septarian mercinary afer star.. and then carrying his arm around when he got reduced to that.. not because of star but because of a rogue gift card. We don’t have time to unpack that, so she later tried attacking one more time in season 2, in one of the single worst episodes of the series, as she attacked and Marco’s Parents, instead of being concerned about the strange woman and man and lizard man arm attacking thier children, were more concerned about.. tehir cool neighbors. which could’ve been funny but just got frustrating, especially because Marco defended himself well, pointing out while he trashed her school, and gets merchandising rights from princess marco merch, she you know, brainwashed innocent to semi innocent children and was in general horrible and his parents are only humoring her because they were both out of hte loop, which due to this being shortly before star and marco leaves amounts to nothing, and because of the stupid plot.

So after that we got one more apperance in season 3 with her trying to expose marco as a boy to turn the princsses against him and get her school back.. but it was clearly a desperate and flimsy plan and they knew that already, and don’t care because their accepting. And again have done better without her so she gets thrown out and swore revenge on Marco, and here we are. Finally, since returning Star’s been more active in monster rights, replacing their old batshit insane and patronizingly racist expert with Buff Frog and starting a position to get royal signatures. Obviously this dosen’t sound like the most effective way to do things but it’s both teenager accurate and not the worst plan i’ve heard from a teenager this week.. granted that’s also because I covered a teenager trying to win back her good for not a lot 23 year old boyfriend by stabbing his current girlfriend he left her for a bunch, so it’s not exactly a high bar to clear. So outside of the golden form thing, which i’ll get to in the review proper why I brought that up, that’s what’s all built up to this the mid season finale. While Stump Day DID come after this, I chose to cover it before it since it both takes place before that and feels out of place in the very story heavy episodes after it. So with that out of the way we’ll be taking a look at the full episode and Star’s horrible, no good, very bad night under the cut.

We open at the Monster Temple, that place Ludo and Toffee were headquartered at for season 2 and the battle of mewni mini, where Star is holding a PARTY!

This.. this came up when I typed party. I don’t know why and I don’t WANT to know. I mean party is in the name.. is that a party line? Is this phone sex? No.. just no.. I don’t want dirty sweaty pigs in my phone sex.. I want Rocko like a gentlemen.

Now THAT’S hot. And honestly with what i’ve admitted about myself at this point, can you genuinely tell if i’m joking or not? Point is Marco and Rich Pidgeon are pitching in. Oh yeah those of you who didn’t get this far in the series, again hi kevin, might wonder wait whose that... well he’s a rich pidgeon, part of the pidgeon kingdom a kingdom of pidgeons that moved into another family’s castle, presumibly killed them, the book wasn’t specific on that and is now just a large bunch of pidgeons that don’t talk human except rich and get all creepy. They also have an excutioner which is as great a visual as you imagine.

That and Marco tried faking singing rich singing it by shving a pien in his foot and making him sign it.. he didn’t know he was fully sapient but still. But it’s also season 3 marco. The fact he didn’t accidently burn the castle down trying to impress star and being mad when she wasn’t happy he comitted arson is an achievement. Rich apparently holds a grudge but says just kiddng.. maybe.. i’d be prepared for a pidgeon with a machete if I were Marco. Thankfully i’m not.. I mean I hate myself enough.

Anyways the party is in full swing, as both monsters and mewmans are there. On the mewman sides are the royals we met at the Silver Bell Ball and on the monster side are a bunch of monster teens who look up to star we previously met during the Ludo arc in season 2. Pony arrives bringing a photo booth. And kelly!

And also Johnny Blowhole...

That dolphin what showed up a few times, including in the comic and the show, like most of it’s supporting cast, just sorta forgot. Also was going to be my porn name, just in case till it ended up attached to a fictonal teenager. Did.. did not think naming a character “blowhole” through did they?

Anyways the party is at “middle school dance” levels of awkward with the monsters and humans on other sides. Rock seems to be getting ready for a racist tyrade and singles out a yak like monster.. only to instead compliment the guy’s ripped jeans and the two compliment each other on horns... turns out the ones Rock always wear aren’t decorative but part of him due to a boating accident. Shame we never got more of this kid. that’s a good kid I tell you what. But honestly and since the moment is right given their all in this episode.. we never get a lot of the other royals outside of tom and star PERIOD. While Penelope would show up one last time and Larry would make a cameo for the most part their just.. background filler. Even this pettitoin arc was two episodes long. Rich is BRAND new and he gets way more focus.. and even he only gets to show up again for the big “Gondor calls for aid moment” in season 4 where star summoned whoever she could get on short notice. And is the ONLY royal to besides Ponyhead. Larry has an intresting enough design but the underwater kingdom only got featured in the deep trouble tie in comic that got cut short, and he wasn’t created yet so he doesen’t even show up for it. Jagg’s is such a footnote to the creators she dosen’t ever show up after this, and finally Rock, despite being star’s COUSIN and despite his kingdom being specifically mentioned as the hardest to make sympathetic to eclipsa during her own entirely ignored arc trying to win over the other kingdoms, and despite it being where River comes from and thus possibly providing some more insight into that awesome, awesome man.. we get nothing. Hell the Cloud Kingdom of the Ponyeheads ONLY gets two visits despite being home of one of the main cast.. god I just realized Ponyhead was part of the main cast.

So while I grapple with that, Star figures the punch is too warm and while Marco goes to get ice, she tries to remind him she can do magic and accidently puts it in your standard cartoon ice block.. and being star gets her tounge stuck. Thankfully her savior comes in the form of tom who being.. you know.. tom.. can simply melt it down and reminds her he’s been there the whole time. She’s just been a bit distracted with you know, trying to ease centuries of racial tension in a well meaning but ultimately pointless at best and risky at worst, partay. And dosen’t seem to get WHY she dosen’t want to dance.. even if they do have a REALY fucking cute moment where he leans in to kiss her, she catches him on it.. then blows a raspberry into his mouth when he does and smooches him on the cheek a bunch.

But the whole thing leaves him as a grumpus venting to marco and boiling the punch.. though at least Marco gets to use that ice now so silver linings and all that. And when marco tries to explain he tells him he dosen’t “talk politics”

My baby boy.. i’m so disapointed in you. And Marco points out as he leaves “your a prince everything you do is political. “. Which is.. HALF true. I mean tom going to the bathroom or eating a taco or taking his grandpa fo ra walk on his leash so he dosen’t gouge anyones eyes out isn’t political.. but he’s also not wrong that being the half demon half mewman son of two royals, DOES mean tom can come off political and one previous episode which he made a cameo in even had Tom being profiled, with a shopkeep who shoed out another monster kid tried that on tom.. only to realize who he was dealing with and beg for mercy he probably only got because Tom’s trying to be a better person now. And I don’t think i’ts even malcious on tom’s part, tom isn’t the most empathetic guy. He’s nice, he’s sweet, and once he knows you he can be really thoughtful.. but as we’ve seen throughout this retrospective.. empathy is something he’s struggled with. He stalked star because he didn’t see HER side of him creeply and obessively persuing her until Marco got through to him. He missed the point of his therapy assignment, seeing it as a goal to get passed instead of hwat brian intended: for him to geninely make amends with someone he hurt. He didn’t get that while star didn’t, at the time, want to date him ignoring her would hurt her... though that on’es not on him. He’s not a bad guy at all but he’s not at all great at reading people or being selfless.

He’s getting there, stump day showed him put stars needs before Marco’s and not out of any selfish dick measuring contest but because he knew what she wanted and what made her happy, but it’s hard to have empathy for a problem you don’t get how bad it is. To tom it’s just getting stopped once in a while and then having to glower or literally roast someone. To these monsters... it’s a life of being denied a decent standard of living, housing and being treated as a crminal and a beast just for existing. Tom has a fancy castle, loyal subjects, tons of money.. his privlage has insulated him from the real dangers of being the minority he is, of getting beaten up by the cops or arrested just for being a monster. And yes i’m using real world paralells.. but so does the end of this episode so shhh. It’s also a moral that hits home since as a white person, the last year has hit me HARD with just how much I didn’t know about the racial situation in america and how complacient i’d become. I wasn’t actively racist.. but like many americans I had the bad tendency to forget the horrible things that happpend on a daily basis to people of color in this country when it got out of the news. Privlage can blind you, and I cannot speak for if it does so for any real life minorties as i’m not touching a subject i’m not qulaified to talk on due to being super white with a ten foot pole, but I can speak for me that sometimes you just.. dont’ notice a problem unless i’ts happening to you. And while it has happened to tom it’s such a minor inconvience he probably just forgets about it and moves on. And these next two episodes with him, though we have some plot stuff to get too before we get back to Tom in feburary, are him getting his bubble popped and realizing just WHAT Star has been fighting against. And Star’s own privlage will be an issue later.. but we’llg et to that in it’s own time. So while Tom skulks off Rich startles Marco to get him to do his kung fun hand pose “the sword hand dance” and everyone uses it to dance which Marco understandably objects to until kelly asks him to dance. Cue adorable ship tease.. again this is why i’m thrownig in the kelco episode in the next batch: because the trajectory of this relationship eeerily lines up with tom episodes. No sense avoiding the ONE other episode about the ship , especially if i’m going out of my way to cover the Meteora arc on top of it and my other 80 projects. And regular coverage. And comissions. And you get the idea it’s a lot but i’m happy to do it.

Meanwhile we meet Slime, a friendly slime monster who introduces himself to penelope and her massive spider bite... and then drips a bit giving her the wrong impression. Thankfully.. this does not turn into the PG-Rated versoin of BLue from the heathers musical.

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No he just was offering to aloe up her spiderbite, and she’s all too happy to accept since her family never thought about it.. though as we see next season their not against it suprisingly. They are still dicks though. But not racist, though that’s a very low bar to clear and only gives them credit because mewni as a whole is pretty racist when it comes to Monsters. Point is I hate their parents but love these ship as the two share some ship tease and go downstairs.. only to get attacked. Meanwhile, Marco’s getting a goblin dog while being watched by Henious.. who despite Gemini’s objections.. no longer cares about her cheeks as she grins sinesterly and has him play her music, some heavy metal. FORESHADOWING!

Back at the party, Star adreses her public and is all proud and blushy.. till Penelope stumbles in, covered in scars, telling the crowd something took Slime.. and both sides start blaming one another, especially since it turns out a LOT of the monsters have gone missing. So with everything she worked towards and had achieved crumbling, Star calms the crowd and says she’ll investigate. Outside Marco is getting a goblin dog with roy, and wondering why he has strawberry, who orders a strawberry.. who wants that? And then decides to get one out of curiosity which I would but i’m also fat and love strawberries so i’m not a beacon of good decisionmaking.

So Star grabs him before he can roll that metaphorical dice and passes tom who tries to downplay her concerns and get her to go make out, thinking that’s what’s going on despite that.. making no sense, as a ton of them are missing and 6 is a bit much for polyamory.. I mean it works for some people

But not everyone can be a majestic space grandma whose also a caterpillar. And their too young to orgy so that’s out too. Point is Tom is an idiot this time and Star RIGHTFULLY calls him out for belitting her cause, not really caring about it, or the other teens who are in danger right now from god knows what and tells him to either help or get out of the way.

So while Tom licks his well earned wounds, Star and Marco journey into the depths and find a campsite with fresh dog eared pages indicating whoevers behind the abudictions is not only sapient, but still here... oh and it somehow gets worse as they find out WHOSE behind it.

And a second question you might be having: Who dis. Well this is Mina Loveberry, solarian warrior, whose a legend in Mewni and was one of star’s childhood heroes who she found wondering around homeless and clearly not mentally well in the park on earth.. and then tried to conquer it, but the electoral process stopped her... I don’t know why but a half crazed maniac being defeated by due electoral process makes me feel all warm and fuzzy right now, on this specific day this is coming out late on. Hmmmm.. INTERESTING aint it?

Point is Mina is a super powerful, super not in her right mind super warrior, who is naturlaly the kidnapper, as this episode also reveals she’s violently racist and assuemed something was up and whiel Star, who despite said cou still loves and respects her and gets she’s not well, tries to talk her down it increasingly becomes clear there’s no reasoning with her. And really with most racists.. there isn’t. Racisim isn’t something that’s rational and while some people are just indocrinated at a young age and CAN be turned around on it.. some are just so deeply up their own ass with hatred you can’t reason with them or save them. You just have to stop them. Via impeaching them, making sure they get called out and taken out of office.. or in this case using rainbows on them. But we’ll have to wait a second as a bunch of debris falls on mina taking her out!

.. Only to reveal Henious and while Marco’s willing to fight her and her posse, Raasticore grabs star and henious hooks him up to the brainwash machine, probably planning to kill him with it while playing the music

But before she can kill or do worse to one of our heroes.. the door behind them opens up.. and reveals a child’s play room.

And Henious.. gives up on the attack and enters, disturbing Gemini as she looks around in what’s easily one of the best scene sin the entire series: her slow walk, the way the animation follows her as it sinks in just what Metora might be.. and her picking up two dolls, the ones seen above.. her dolls to Gemini’s increasing discomfort. And while the animation is stellar and utterly moving as we slowly put the pieces together... it’s Walter’s delivery that REALLY STUNS.Gone is the harsh, unforgiving nightmarish woman we’ve known.. and instead is someone whose confused.. and remembering. Remembering WHY she has those cheek marks, remembering this was her room, her home.. and those were her parents. She remembers now.. and Mina rises to say of course she did “I knew you’d be back here one day meteora!” And as Gemini tries to refute this.. Meteora agrees with MIna, no longer henious at last freed form her deep and abusive brainwashing we’ll cover soon enough. And deeply confused. And as everyone else is deeply confused... Mina, not realizing this whole thing was covered up, again we’ll get to that soon too, spells it out for them and the audience in case you missed it. When Star asks how Eclipsa plays into any of this? “Don’t you ding dongs know anything? She’s her mamma!” (Marco and Star stare in shock as it sinks in) Marco: “Wait HENIOUS is a princess?!” Star: “she’s a butterfly”

Yeah quite obviously this is one of the biggest wham episodes in the entire series. In one moment we not only find out Henious is indeed a butterflfy as fans thought.. but Eclipsa’s daughter, half monster, and her entire existance raises questions of how much her family hid and if not WHO DID. I mean some of you alreayd know the answer but the rest of you can wait a week.. or a few mintues it’s hinted at soon enough. Point is Star has questions.. questions the violent racist whose pretty messed up in the head for a variety of the reasons and spent decades hunting her.. is not willing to hear out and instead prepares to smite her. While Star tries DESPERATLEY to talk her friend out of this it’s very clear Mina’s not going to listen... so Star rainbow fists her.. and prepares to face her former friend and inspiration for Meteora’s saftey and the answers she BADLY needs right now. Oh and just in case you thought “oh well the magical girl who sounds like amy sedaris can’t be that big a threat”... Yeah I didn’t mention broly for nothing.

Mina bulked up. Meet Solarian Mina. And like the Legendary Super Sayian form from Dragon Ball.. i’ts a beserker of a form that turns the already obessive and insane Mina.. into an unstoppable rage fuled killing machine with horrifying levels of power who can beat down anyone nearbye. And unlike Broly, where he was just a one in a million fluke in both versions... Mina was PLANNED to be this. The solarian program was something Eclipsa’s mom came up with, a series of spells that slowly turn the target into a rampaging super soldier. It’s like if Nuke from marvel comics, a vietnam era version of captain america who dind’t turn out so good, was INTETIONAL;

As you can see it removes fear.. but also the targets concisce, so Mina is incapable of empathy or being cure dof her racisim. Solaria turned her from a humble volunteer just hoping ot help and improve her station into the crazed monster star now faces. And as the Broly comparision should make clear... yeah Star dosen’t do so good and neither does Marco. She shrugs off Star’s hits and while botht he kids and meteora escape, both just piss Mina off MORE, and put star in more danger as she’s thrown around like a ragdoll. She then runs into tom who shows off his growht: While he was a dick up there.. unlike before where he assumed he was always the wronged party.. he realized he crossed a line and while he dosen’t know WHY he did, is still willing to apologize and presumibly talk about it. A bit clueless yes but it’s effort and his tone is sincre so it’s less “I’m apologizing for whatever I guess” bullshit and more “I genuinely don’t know wha ti did wrong please tell me so I can say sorry”.. which given how awkard tom is with people and how I pointed out his trouble relating to them over htis retrospective, is the more beliviable one. Naturally while Star does appricate it she’s kinda busy.. and when Tom see’s what’s going on he leaps in with NO hesitation. And given how close the luictors once were and are again with the butterflies it’s doubtful he hadn’t heard of mina so he likely KNOWS what he’s going up against..a nd dosen’t care. His girlfriend needs his help and this person’s trying to hurt her. That’s all he needs to kick her ass. Or try.. unlike with the z warriors.. our heroes don’t win this one. Tom tries a really cool move i’m dubbing the onyx coffin, a black coffin with runes and chains.. that does nothing to her. She breaks out and our heroes flee and Mina causes a massive ruckuss above, and the only reasons our heros don’t die.. is that the knights and Rhombulus of the high comission arrive. And since the high comission are going to be vastly important a refresher: The high comission were created by glossaryck, the little man who lives in stars book who used to be voiced by an asshole and next season is voiced by keith motherfucking david, to police the multiverse and it’s various issues. The four we know are Lekmet: a goat man who died last season and controlled entropy and could heal at the cost of his own life hence the death, Hekapoo, a close assiocate of marcos who controls the scissors beings use to cross dimensions and can do so herslef effortlessly, Omnitraxus Prime, a powerful and giant antler skulled being who watches space time and timelines and is voiced by Karl Weathers so...

And Rhombulus, a diamond headed he-man reject with snakes for hands becaue his dad is a well documented dickhead.. no really that’s the entire explination i the book of spells: Glossaryck turned his hands to snake to teach him the lesson i’ts hard to get through life with snake hands. He’s a gung ho guy who imprisons the wrost of the worst criminals thus his presence here as Mina clearly had a falling out with the comission and thus flees. So while Star and Tom are given blankets afterwords and some cocoa, Tom comforts her and admits if nothing else.. he gets it now, having been finally faced with the type of horrible shit monsters have had to deal with in the past and sees why his girlfriend tried hard to help it. But Star.. realizes she can’t fix this that easy. That she dosen’t know enough and clearly ther’es even more than she ever could’ve thought possible she has ot know if she’s going to fix this.. and that it’s not an EASY problem to fix. You really CAN’T fix racisim you can just make society better, but you’ll never be rid of people like Mina. Though this arc will.. yeah in one of the more baffling decisions Mina is given this huge reindrocution, with Amy Sedaris showing that while a very funny lady and a very talented actress as bojack had previously shown off for both.. she can be FUCKING TERRIFYING. But nope, she’s just..g one outside of a cameo, gets beatne off screen and dosen’t become big bad for a season. And I get it, the metora arc needed room.. but you had a WHOLE EXTRA EPISODE to have her defeat mina. Inastead you used it for Marco Jr which amounted to almost nothing and could’ve been saved for season 4 wher eit probably woudln’t of been terrible. I”ll get to that one some day. Point is it’s bad storytelling.

So yeah Star’s feeling lost, her family history is in flux, she got beaten badly, not horribly injrued but still lost handily, her party ruined and she was hit with the realization her plans were overly idealistic. Well meaning sure but a party was never going to cure this. Oh and Rhombluus naturally isn’t coming clean about why the temple is off limits or what’s going on here so that dosen’t help. And somehow.. IT STILL GETS WORSE. The Wizard Cops try to take the monsters in , profling them and not having done so and star thankfully talks them out of it but the monster kids turn down any afterparty or anything. They get she means well tbut hte moment’s over. And their not even excesivley sad.. their just.. used to the police treating them like this. Like less than human, like automatic suspects when THEY were the victims. IT’s nothing new... and god does this feel relevant as hell.

And this i where I meant Star’s privlage bites her: While not as bad as tom, it took some very harsh reality for her to see that solving racisim.. is not only nigh imposisble but not that easy. To her it was easy as a party and friendship and what’s worked before in her fairly shelted world. Advetnures or not she’s still a princess whose never experinced prejudice. In both worlds she’s in the majority. It’s probably why Marco conttoned on to monster racism in seconds during “Menipendence Day’ when Star hadn’t her whole life: to Marco, whose latix and thus dealing with all kinds of racist shit his whole life, it was easier to pick it up. He’s firmly part of his culture.. and thus probably firmly aware of the racism he faces. Star is so insulated she just dosen’t get it till it nearly beat her to death. So yeah Star’s at her lowest point, having failed to make things better, the answer to her questions being lost and not sure what’s real. Metora on the other hand as they dodge the cops.. has ascended. As Gemini calls her henious once last time.. she says that’s not her name.

“My name is meteora”

SHe’s been dreaming the wrong dream.. and it’s long past time she woke up.

Final Thoughts; Monster Bash.. is one of the best episodes in the series. Unlike a lot of Seasons 3 and 4 it dosen’t suffer from lack of proper payoff, as the next few episodes deal with how the fuck any of this is happening and why the fuck any of it happened. Mina’s absence nonwithstanding.. this is one of the series best and most gripping arcs. And the swerve is great: you think i’ts Henious doing the kindappings, only for her not to be the threat again just yet. And for her to be something far more. It’s just masterful, starting iwth fun hyjinks and ending in one of the best nad most nightmarish fights in the series if not the best, watching as our heroes slowly but surely LOOSE.. and THEN it gets worse. Out and out a must watch for the series and a sad sign of what it COULD’VE been had it moved past it’s worst insitncts next season and become what i should’ve been. Next week: We take a tom break as Eclipsa nad Mon investigate all of this and we get the SECOND biggest wham episode in the series.

Until the next rainbow, be excellent to each other.

#star vs the forces of evil #star vs #star butterfly #marco diaz #tom lucitor #startom #rich pidgeon #kelly #lilica ponyhead #meteora butterfly #gemini #mina loveberry #slime #penelope spiderbite

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luluxa · 4 years ago

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Upon request, re-posting an old au minific I appear to have deleted.

It was caused by this Signs bit:

Knights: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius (Jeremy, Andy, Richard)

Dragons: Capricorn (James)

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James really does hate filming high up on shit mountain roads, driving a shit broken car. He feels highly uncomfortable there in his feeble human body, wanting to just rip off the mask and fly. Flight is natural, flight is safe, while being trapped in a flimsy metal box clamps his throat with panic. James’s wings ache for a fly when he’s so high up, and in the same time, he’s scared shitless he will lose control and give himself away. He tells everyone it’s a phobia to explain his nervousness. Then again, he’s also got his very own light aircraft, and has no problem driving on good mountain roads in supercars – options he deems safe, since he’s entirely in control then, and while it renders his claim a bit suspicious, it’s written off to his general weirdness, thankfully.

He tells Jeremy and Richard to stay away from him on that insane Bolivian road, knowing he’ll be concentrating too much on driving his shit car and maintaining the mask to react in a camera-friendly way to the usual bugging. James is pretty certain he won’t give himself away completely, but he can’t be positive he won’t do something stupid, like shoving his machete down Jeremy’s throat.

It appears, though, that annoyance isn’t his worst enemy.

“I have no brakes!” Richard yells over the radio, sounding panicky. “I can’t fucking – I’m going to drive into the fucking cliff on purpose because it’s the only way I can stop!”

“Quit yelling,” James tells him. “Just stay away from the edge.”

Richard swears at him, and then a huge truck materialises out of nowhere in a cloud of dust and Richard veers away from it sharply towards the abyss.

“Fuck!”

It’s the last thing Richard gets to say before his brake-less car tips over the brim and disappears.

James stops breathing, braking on autopilot and jumping out of the car in the same time. He can’t quite control himself afterwards. The rational human thinking vanishes between one heartbeat and another, replacing with the ancient and instinctive knowledge. He can save Richard.

He jumps after the Toyota, spreading his wings mid-dive. It takes another second to grab the toy-like tin can and then Richard, who falls out of it. He’s alive but has hit his head and is unconscious, James realises immediately, already gliding along the narrow canyon. He’s crushed the Toyota, he notes absently, and drops it down, since it’s useless now.

And then the reality kicks in.

Yeah, he’s managed to save Richard. But he also fucked everything up beyond repair.

James turns around and flies back to the spot he took off from. The traffic has stopped and there is a growing crowd on the road – locals, the camera crew and Jeremy, all of them staring up in astonishment and horror. James doesn’t want to land there, but Richard needs medical help, probably having a concussion, and James needs to explain himself. Or he can just run away. Well, fly away, now when he’s blown his cover.

It’s dead silent on the road when he touches the ground and puts Richard on it gently. He seems impossibly tiny compared to James’s clawed dragon paws. He edges away, glancing up to meet Jeremy’s eyes, white with shock.

James almost puts the mask back on, wanting to shrink down and hide, but that won’t improve anything now, will it? He’s ruined everything. His only consolation is that Richard’s alive and more or less okay, but that won’t improve anything either, in the end. James is still a dragon who has lied to his closest friends and the whole fucking world. He’s lied to a bunch of Knights’ descendants, more to the point, who hate Dragons not only on principle or tradition, but because they have it in their very blood.

James imagines the reaction he’s about to face and runs away, and then even farther so, ripping a portal to the Other Side and diving into the white light. He will have to apologise anyway, but not right now. He can’t do it right now.

Jeremy’s so shocked he can’t speak for the whole ten minutes. He watches the Dragon – James, for fuck’s… how can it be James? – fly away and then disappear entirely in a bright flash. He just fucking vanishes, without a word, leaving Richard lying lifeless in the dirt.

It’s when he finally snaps out of his stupor and moves, checking Richard’s pulse – it’s there, and he stirs when Jeremy squeezes his wrist tightly with relief. Jeremy still can’t speak, though, just watching helplessly as some locals and their own doctor fuss over him.

James has saved his life. James has fucking turned into a Dragon out of nowhere and saved his life. It doesn’t make any bloody sense!

“What happened?” Richard asks with confusion when he’s finally seated up and declared all right. “I can’t remember anything. Again.” He adds, sounding scared. “Where’s my Toyota? Where’s James? He was right behind me.” He glances around, eyes large.

Jeremy sniffs. “The weirdest shit has happened,” he says, finding his voice at last. “It’s all on tape, I hope, because I need to watch it.”

The locals discuss the incident loudly in Spanish, repeating ‘Dragón’ over and over again, until even Richard catches up.

“Dragon?” he says, scowling. “Would someone explain me what the hell is going on?”

Jeremy glances at Andy helplessly, hoping he would do it for him, but Andy looks just as lost as Jeremy feels.

He sighs. “Well, I haven’t seen it, but I think your brakes gave up entirely and you fell over the edge. James was right behind you, and he – and I can’t believe I’m saying it – turned into a Dragon and went right after you. He flew away when he brought you back.”

Richard stares at him blankly, then snorts. “Very funny. Now, seriously, what happened?”

It takes half an hour and Iain showing him the actual tape to convince him. Jeremy watches too, because he begins to doubt himself. But nope. Here he is, fucking James May, a hairy idiot in a bandana, jumping out of his ridiculous Suzuki and suddenly turning into a huge, glowing fucking beast with silver wings. His scaly tail swipes Iain’s camera car as he jumps off, making it fly a few feet backwards – the image shakes and wobbles and then stabilises again.

Jeremy can’t help but stare in awe once more at the Dragon gliding easily and gracefully down the canyon, the Toyota in one paw and Richard invisible in the other.

“I feel faint again,” Richard complains, watching James lower him on the ground. “That’s impossible!”

It is, but it’s happened anyway.

James takes most of the road in his dragon form, people scattering away from his tail and his wings. His eyes are electric blue and Jeremy can recall the heat emanating from his hide. It was a breath-taking fucking picture. And a pretty exciting one.

It was hella exciting picture, Jeremy has to admit, watching James turn around and leap right up into the air, spreading his wings, all in one smooth motion. There is no odd awkwardness in the Dragon that human James possesses, no visible pudginess, just streamline muscle and silver, bright on his wings and dusty on his tail. Jeremy might have always hated Dragons for their nature, but deep down inside he also has always found them quite magnificent visually, and James is no ugly specimen, both in human and Dragon form. As for the nature…

“Lying fuck,” Jeremy growls, when the tape ends. “Sneaky, lying, deceiving fucking bastard!”

Richard takes a breath but doesn’t say anything, scowling.

James is gone for a month.

He doesn’t appear in his house and Richard has to take Fusker to Wales. Richard checks his phone surreptitiously for messages, while Jeremy fumes and refuses to talk about the incident. It’s a pretty huge elephant of a subject and no one knows what to do about it.

The tabloids can’t fucking calm down, the Beeb can’t calm down, they are constantly bothered by the paps, the fans, the management, friends, and also, alarmingly, the Dragons. Jeremy tells them all to fuck off.

“He’s saved my life,” Richard says one night to him, when he has consumed a sufficient amount of wine to at least not walk right away. “I don’t bloody care if he ate people before Top Gear, he’s saved my life and he’s my friend. I’m not dismissing him. If he ever turns up, that is.”

Jeremy snorts. “A lying fuck and a coward.”

Just like that, Richard is angry. “Well, with your brilliant attitude, I don’t blame him! I wouldn’t want to put up with your ungratefulness either!”

Jeremy pours himself more wine sulkily. “I don’t so much care he’s a Dragon as that he’s a deceiving fucking Dragon. We were friends. He could’ve just said something.”

“Oh yeah?” Richard winces. “I have a wall in my house covered in Knight portraits and weaponry. I’ve got a Dragon skull in my backyard. So do you. So does Andy. I suppose he didn’t want to find out how rusty is that spear over your desk if you suddenly decided to shove it through his gut.”

Jeremy pouts. “I would never do anything like that!”

Richard shrugs. “Yeah, but neither of us was ever reserved about hating the fuck out of the ‘flying geckos’. I imagine it wasn’t nice to listen to, day after day.”

“Well, he should’ve chosen a better company to hang out, then!” Jeremy retorts testily. “He knew who we are, no one was twisting his arm or begging to stay with us.”

“So you don’t want him to come back, in that case?” Richard asks bitterly. He doesn’t want to choose between Jeremy and James. They are both his friends, they are both a bit annoying and a bit great. How is he supposed to choose?

Jeremy seems to deflate, though, sighing. “Don’t be stupid, of course I want him to come back. He’s not in a hurry, though, is he? Maybe he decided he’s had enough,” he mutters morosely into his wine.

Ah. Richard huffs. He has two hurt and scared idiots on his hands, then, and the only thing he can do is wait helplessly until James decides to resurface from the Other Side or wherever it was he’d fucked off to.

Maybe he should locate a psychic, or something, who could at least send a message?

Or maybe James senses something on his own, being a Magical bastard, because on the next day after the conversation, he comes back.

The track is quiet, the portakabin is quiet. There are few people hanging about and they all stare as James drives through the gates and parks by the porch.

He waves at them, upon climbing out, receiving uncertain wry smiles and hesitant nods.

For fuck’s sake. He never was anything other than civilised and it’s not like he’s about to fry someone’s head off now, all of a sudden.

The portakabin is half-empty but those present fall completely silent as he passes by. It’s getting annoying, James decides. He pauses in front of the presenters room’s closed door, glancing back and meeting spooked stares. Would they faint if he growled at them?

James doesn’t do anything of sorts, of course. He opens the door and walks in.

Jeremy is busy typing something angrily into his laptop, facing away. Richard glances up, though, and kicks Jeremy’s chair to get his attention.

“Hello,” James says, stuffing his hands in the pockets, not moving anywhere from the door. He’ll need that to put between himself and Jeremy who looks like he’s about to hurl a table into his face.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Jeremy asks, voice almost a growl. “I don’t recall sending you on a leave.”

James blinks, expecting a rather different kind of abuse.

“Wanker,” Richard adds, grinning, and then walks over to hug James, which is another form of abuse James didn’t expect.

He swallows, waiting the hug out. “Sorry,” he says in the end, confused and not sure how to proceed.

He expected anger and accusations, he expected to be fired and told to never show up again, ever. He was evidently mistaken and also being a bit of a twat.

“Yeah, you should be sorry,” Jeremy points out. He’s put the laptop aside to lean forward in the chair and stare at James sharply over his glasses. “You should’ve told us years ago.”

James shifts uncomfortably. He should’ve, but he was never too courageous, or too open, or trusting enough. He shrugs. “I prefer having a human life,” he says guiltily. “I’d rather be human. I hoped if I pretended hard enough –“ he halts, confronted by two bemused frowns. “You’re right about the Dragons, you know,” he tries again. “We’re a vile, bad-tempered, arrogant bunch. I don’t really like being any of that and spending more time around humans helps.” He sighs at the bewilderment both Richard and Jeremy are emanating. “I have always been a rather shit Dragon,” he says with a wry smirk. “So I decided to see if I can be a less shit human. It’s not that I’ve succeeded, evidently,” he mutters to himself, when no spark of understanding crosses his mates’ faces.

He almost steps away when Jeremy gets up and walks towards him, but then he realises there’s no threat in the set of Jeremy’s shoulders, but something fragile about his face –

“You’re a bloody idiot,” Jeremy tells him and hugs him as well.

Frankly, that’s too much hugging in one day, James thinks faintly. He certainly didn’t deserve any of it.

“I never noticed you were so hot,” Jeremy mutters into James’s hair then, holding him tight.

Richard snorts.

“Hot?” James asks cautiously.

Jeremy stills for a second and straightens up hastily, pushing him away. He appears to be blushing. “To the touch! Temperature-wise!” he squeaks.

James squints at him, finding the blush very interesting. “You should’ve touched me more,” he says wryly, making Jeremy’s embarrassment more pronounced. “I tend to get hotter when people get up close,” he adds, smirking. “Can’t help it.”

Jeremy rubs his neck, finally grinning too.

Richard looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh at them or roll his eyes. “Yeah, maybe leave the experimentation in that area until I’m not in the room. In the meanwhile, can we finally agree that James is staying so we can go film some more of Top Gear?”

When Jeremy nods, James allows himself to relax at last. “Seriously, I’m sorry. If you have any questions I’ll try to get over myself and answer them. Maybe not all of them, though,” he adds, upon a second thought. “Gotta maintain some mystery.”

Jeremy scoffs and Richard gets to have his eye-roll, at last, which puts the end to the reunion.

They summon Andy and Porter, request more tea and candy bars, and then argue for the rest of the day about the pressing matter of how to present James’s sudden non-humanness to the audience. It’s odd and familiar in the same time, and makes James believe that more things remained the same rather than changed irrevocably.

Maybe he was right about his choice, after all.

And he’s certainly chose right people to befriend.

#j/j #minific

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sylvanfreckles · 4 years ago

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Impaled (FebuWhump 04)

I had an extremely crappy day at work today...like coming home crying level crappy. So, as a defense mechanism, this came out. Granted, it was always going to be a slightly humorous take on this scenario, but this went a little...extreme.

You can also read this on AO3

Fandom: Supernatural Summary: Who would have thought, in the end, it would be vampire clowns in a busted-up barn in the middle of nowhere?

Not the Winchesters, that's for certain.

And certainly not Castiel, who did not get resurrected again just to die at the hands of a monster with a fourteen-year grudge.

* * *

After everything..after Chuck and Free Will and rewriting their own lives...it all came down to this.

A musty old barn in the ass-crack of nowhere, facing down a gang of vampires of all things.

“So, what, now's when we find out Gordon isn't actually dead?” Dean muttered, standing back-to-back with Sam. “Or, ah, what's-her-name...the hippie one who only ate cows. Think she's here?”

“We watched Lenore die,” Sam reminded him. “And I killed Gordon. I don't think this is either of them.”

“Yeah, unless Chuck brought them back,” Dean shot back. “Cas?”

Castiel, who had been silently and efficiently dispatching vampires turned back at Dean's question. “I find it unlikely Chuck would have considered either of them important enough to bring back from Purgatory.” Another vampire roared up behind him, and without even looking Cas stabbed him through the throat with his angel blade.

Dean had to admit, the flutter of Cas's new calf-length trench coat was pretty impressive as the angel spun around to yank his blade from one vampire and plunge it into another. Jack had apparently hooked his adoptive father up with some new duds on his return from the Empty, so Cas wasn't exactly rocking the whole “holy tax accountant” look anymore.

On the one hand, the long black trench coat was absolutely badass. The way it spun around Cas as he moved in battle reminded Dean of the shadows of wings cast on the barn ceiling all those years ago, and it had a much more stylish cut that emphasized the muscle on the angel's powerful frame.

On the other...the rainbow-colored sweater vest was a little much. But the combination was something that was just so essentially Jack they really couldn't complain.

“Dean!”

Pulled out of his daydreams by his brother's warning scream, Dean managed to deflect an incoming vampire and roll out of the way, narrowly avoiding the dangerous-looking nail that was poking up out of one of the support beams. Damn, they really needed to stop confronting vampires in fallen-down old barns.

Cas hauled him to his feet and manhandled him to one side, a blast of holy power from his other hand obliterating yet another vampire clown. “How many more are there?” the angel shouted over the sounds of battle.

“They just keep coming,” Sam panted. They were cornered now—Cas's angel blade was still embedded in a vampire a few feet away, Dean's machete had gotten notched when it had gotten stuck on a particularly dense vampire spine, and Sam was favoring his right arm as though chopping off so many heads in such a short amount of time was giving some kind of hunter's carpal tunnel. “Are we sure...I mean, is Chuck really de-powered?”

“You think he planned for one of us to die in some shitty barn in the middle of nowhere?” Dean scoffed. “Dude. The man's a hack, but he's not that bad.”

“Enough!” A fourth voice—because, really, the vampire clowns had done nothing but snarl since the Winchesters had busted down the door—cut through the air as another figure strode into the center of the barn.

It was, predictably, another vampire. This one was obviously the boss, judging by the way she was dressed—halter top and jeans instead of baggy clothes and a clown mask. Seriously, why clowns? Was someone trying to make this place Sam's worst nightmare?

“Well, well. If it isn't the Winchesters.” The woman flipped a lock of long, dark hair back over her shoulder. “I'm sure you're surprised to see me.”

Dean stared at her for a moment then glanced over at his brother. Sam shrugged. “Right,” Dean said after a few seconds. “You're...the Ringmaster!”

Sam let out a groan and stumbled back to lean against the wall of the barn. Dean couldn't see much of Cas's face but the angel's body was radiating out disappointment. “Come on,” Dean protested. “Clowns? The circus?”

“Enough!” the woman snapped again. “You killed my entire clan fourteen years ago. I've waited a long time for this day, when my new clan would find the Winchesters and we would put an end to them!”

Dean let his gaze travel up and down the woman's body again. She was still familiar, but that wasn't really enough to jog his memory. “Sweetheart, you're gonna have to be way more specific than that. Fourteen years is a long time.”

Cas shot him a dirty look—though whether it was over the sweetheart comment or Dean's snarky tone of voice he couldn't tell.

The woman hissed in anger. “Jenny? I had been chosen to join Luther's clan? You kidnapped his mate, Kate? Killed all of them to get your father and your precious Colt back?”

Dean sucked in a breath through his teeth. Oh, right, he remembered her now...not that she needed to know that. “Sorry. Doesn't ring a bell.”

Jenny gave a shriek and charged toward him. Cas intercepted, easily turning her momentum against her. Sam charged in, the machete in his left hand now, easily cutting through the seemingly endless swarm of vampires.

With a rueful glance at his ruined machete, Dean took up a position to cover Cas's flank. Maybe he couldn't charge back into battle like Sam, but he could at least keep the small fry off the angel's back.

“This reminds me of the place we first met, Cas,” Dean called over his shoulder.

Cas grunted. “Hell was nothing like this, Dean. This barn has no resemblance to Alistair's pit.”

“What?” Dean shook his head. Right, sometimes he forgot about the whole raised-you-from-perdition thing. Maybe he needed to get that handprint tattooed back on or something...if he could face Sammy's teasing. “No, I meant the barn, man. Where I tried to shoot you.”

With a twist of his hips Cas flipped Jenny onto her back and wrapped one hand around her throat. “You also stabbed me,” he retorted. He was on limited power while he was on earth, but he had enough juice to burn Jenny out of existence.

“Still. Memories.”

There was a ragged cry from one of the vampire clowns—one of the few Sam hadn't managed to decapitate in the last five minutes (really, their heads just popped right off if you got the angle right...his high school history teacher had been so wrong). The vampire charged at Cas and the angel wasn't quite able to defend himself before he was driven back against one of the barn's support posts. Dean shouted a curse at the vampire and took a swing at his head.

The machete stuck. Dean swore and tugged it free, then swung again. The vampire went down, but it took a few more blows before he finally managed to separate the head from the body. “Dammit,” he swore, wiping his forehead on his sleeve. “Sammy?”

“Forty-seven,” Sam panted. He was doubled over, hands on his knees. “That was forty-seven vampire clowns. What the hell is happening?”

“Maybe Chuck's still in charge,” Dean theorized. “Cas?”

The angel grunted. Dean twisted around to see Cas staring down at his own chest, then the angel slowly peeled back one lapel of his trench coat. “Oh. I've been impaled.”

It was the rusty bar Dean had narrowly avoided earlier. It was longer than he'd thought, and the tip was poking out of Cas's chest right below his heart. “Cas?”

“I'm all right,” Cas reassured him, though the spray of blood he coughed up wasn't very reassuring.

“Oh god,” Sam fisted both hands in his hair. “Wh-what do we do? Should we call Jack? Do you need an ambulance? Or, wait, a spell? Maybe, maybe there's something in the car...”

“Sam, this is nothing,” Cas protested. He gripped the bar with one hand, frowning a little when he wasn't able to push himself free. “Though I could use some assistance.”

“No-no-no-no!” Sam waved his hands frantically. He'd pulled a bandanna out of...somewhere...and was trying to put pressure on the wound around the rusty bar. “We'll just...we can control the bleeding, and-and Dean can call an ambulance, and they can take care of you at the hospital.”

“Sam...”

“I didn't even get to say good-bye last time,” Sam whispered.

Ouch. Damn. Dean felt that one, right in his gut. That spurred him to action. “Hey, it's okay,” he said, quietly. He placed a hand on one of Sam's arms and leaned in closer to study the wound. “You said it's not bad? 'Cause I'm pretty sure some of that's supposed to be on the inside.”

Cas coughed and the wound gurgled as he sucked in a breath. “It would be a fatal wound if I were human,” he admitted. “But it cannot kill me. It is merely...uncomfortable.”

“There, see?” Dean knocked his shoulder against Sam's. He was worried, too...he would never get used to seeing Cas injured, no matter how long they were together. Especially not since the angel always tended to get the more...dramatic injuries. Like now, Sam and Dean were coming out of the fight with barely a scratch between them, while Cas had been impaled on a piece of rusty metal.

The absurdity of the situation finally struck Dean. The piles of dead vampire clowns. The woman from their past, who had apparently been planning revenge for fourteen years even though they hadn't even remembered her name.

And, most of all, their badass angel-of-the-lord (even if the lord in question at the moment was their adopted kid) in his rainbow sweater vest and badass trench coat staring down at the metal protruding from his chest like it was personally offending him.

Oh. I've been impaled.

He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.

Sam turned, scandalized. Cas looked on with resigned amusement.

“He-he just,” Dean wheezed. “Like that snowman...just...”

Cas gave a long-suffering sigh and gripped the piece of metal in one hand. With a mighty twist it broke away from the barn's support beam, and with another wrench Cas had pulled it free from his body and dropped it to the floor. His legs buckled beneath him, but Sam caught him and eased him down, that ever-present bandanna pressed to the wound in Cas's chest.

“Oh man...it's gonna be okay, Cas. We'll...we'll figure this out.”

“Dude,” Dean staggered over to kneel next to them, tears of laughter running down his face. “He's fine, just...just let it go.”

“Stop quoting Frozen and put your hand here!” Sam snapped, yanking Dean closer. “We need to stop the bleeding!”

Cas just stared at them patiently while Sam rocked up to his knees to apply more pressure to his wound. Dean tried to help, he really did, but the entire situation was just spiraling too far out of control. If Chuck really was still writing their lives he'd obviously gone insane.

Sam peeled the bandanna back to check Cas's wound and there was...nothing. Just the smooth, colorful knit of his rainbow-colored sweater vest. Even the blood stains were gone, as though Cas had never been injured.

With a relieved sigh, Sam sank back onto his heels. Cas pushed himself up on his elbows, idly brushing at the straw that was sticking to his trench coat. Dean picked up the rusty piece of iron that had impaled Cas and flung it across the barn.

“Not today, Chuck!” he hollered after it. “No one's dying in some shitty barn in the middle of nowhere, you hear me?”

There was a companionable silence for a moment, then Sam suddenly shot to his feet and looked around. “We forgot about the kids!”

* * *

Jack sees his father both as a badass unstoppable force, and as the caring dad who always has time for him. Thus, when designing his wardrobe for his current resurrection, he went with the odd combination of cuddly rainbow vest and Neo-style trench coat. Oddly enough, it suits Cas more than anything else he's ever worn.

#supernatural #fic #fanfic #febuwhump #febuwhumpday4 #impaled #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #destiel #castiel and dean and sam friendship #jenny #vampires #episode fix-it: s15e20 Carry On #cas in a black trench coat #dean watches frozen #attempt at humor #hurt/comfort #there is one emotional punch moment

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joeshambo · 5 years ago

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Big Long Now- from junkyard to landfill (my war)

Okay so I highly doubt anyone views this blog independently, regularly, or really at all. Maybe a couple of stray clicks out of curiousity but probably nothing too intense.

I made my last post around the end of my 2018 rehab tour, which was filled with misery, suicidal thoughts, severe pain, changes, fleeting euphoria, acceptance, survival, homelessness, violence, injury and huge changes to the way I think.

It all started in late march 2018. I had grown tired of waking up each morning to schlep all the way to the methadone clinic and not be able to urinate due to stress, have to meet with a therapist, or just out of plain sickness of life. My weight had dropped from a healthy 220 to 140 in a little less than a year. This started, along with so many changes in my thinking and inhibition, when I was hit over the head with a drinking glass on July 7 2017 by a friend. an insane, flipped out, drugged out friend. And I was in the same condition.

Long story short, the head injury was located around the area of the left frontal lobe. As soon as I got home on the train I rushed home, took all the opioids I had and scrounged the floor for spice with a vengence. This is how the next.. long time would look. Combined with the feeling of my favorite stimulant, dexmethylphenidate starting to shit the bed after 3 solid years of service.

I spent alot of 2017 and early 2018 just drugged out of my mind on speed, coke, weed ,spice,adderall,benzos,opiates,ritalin.. Just everything, And my selfishness came to a head in early April 2018 when I got in a fight over my parents after they ruined an LSD+coke high and made me extremely agitated. Well this isnt due to selfishness per se just the addictive void my selfishness led me to. I wasn’t trying to bother anyone, just to enjoy some chemicals without the bruhaha of being yelled at, insulted and intruded upon by my father.

In a nutshell, I slashed my stomach with a rusty machete, threw a buddha statue through a window, ran off into a creek and started to build myself a hut with reeds and leaves.

Yeah. Thats how 5 years of addiction end. Psychwarded for a month against my will. My memory of that place wasn’t that bad, as I was still being given the 90mg of methadone daily, along with some other comfort meds. I did have a lot of interesting conversations there and overall it wasn;t that bad.

The next place, and the dozens following that, for the most part, have been some of the worst months I’ve had in my entire life. Next time I will share with you the entirety of the 2018 fiasco and my return to grace but with a new found bitterness.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the blog

#rehab #florida shuffle #florida rehab #spice #coke #crack #weed #addiction #rehabilitation #12 steps #narcotics anonymous #battling addiction

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inactive-revenge-may-vary · 6 years ago

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Eff You, Mr. Eff - Part 2

The house, with all its demons, haunted him again. Johnny C., or perhaps someone who looked a lot like him, stood surrounded by the smell of decay from the bodies never given a burial. Blood so dry that it sank into the wall, becoming one with the concrete of the house, floorboards old and abandoned.

A gloved hand touched the surface of a wall, suddenly greeted by faraway voices of the dead; causing him to wake up for just one second before snapping back into red eyes and a mouth that dripped ink.

I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ sᴏ, Jᴏʜɴɴʏ.

Unsheathing a rusty machete, the body pointed it towards itself as if in warning.

I'ᴅ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪғ I ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ.

Tak entered the former home of her brother. The door was kicked in, bloodied footprints and some unknown black substance leading to the formerly well-hidden latchdoor to the lower levels.

Her spooch sank. It was hard enough to logically know that her brother wasn’t in possession of his own body - but this physical evidence hurt all the more.

Tak cut the drapes from a window, setting them beside her large duffel. Out of the duffel she pulled a doll-sized cryo-tank. With one button she enlarged it, covering it afterwards alongside a spare set of knives and a bodysuit.

“I hope this doesn’t turn out to be necessary. Edgar. Lil Shit. If something happens to me - wrap my PAK up in SOMETHING - press this button, and unwrap my PAK. I’ll be fine… just with a new body.”

She looked up. “I was expecting to have to use this with the fuckboy Addie had been insistent on meeting - it was sheer happenstance that one clusterfuck happened IMMEDIATELY after the other.”

Edgar followed alongside Tak. He remembered the last time he and Nny had been there. It was only an echo in the back of his head most days, seeing as it happened such a long time ago. He could Nny sprawled on the floor, losing air, being choked by a ghost who wasn’t ready or willing to move on. He could even hear himself crying out to a God who had clearly… who had clearly not been available at the time. He would do anything to just be back at the apartment where he had promised Nny he would keep him safe. Where he’d hold him and assure him.

He touched a holster on his hip, he wasn’t going to use it.. be couldn’t. Not on Nny, not near him. He would not hurt Prince, he refused to even consider it being an option.

Descending into the lower levels of the house made the hair on his arms raise… he was feeling an odd sense of Deja Vu. He died down here one day.

Ink was barely distinguishable from blood as they descended further into the bowels of the shack.

He barely heard what Tak said, but nodded. He heard the instructions, but everything felt surreal. Like he wasn’t really here, like he was barely alive.

Lil’ Shit’s hackles raised. Nope. Did not like this.

They looked to their side to check on Edgar. NOPE. MORE HELLS OF NOPE.

“Eᴅɢᴀʀ,” they began, “Mᴀʏʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴛᴀʏ ᴜᴘsᴛᴀɪʀs - Tᴀᴋ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏɴᴇ sʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ɪғ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ɢᴇᴛ ʀᴏᴜɢʜ.”

“Bᴇsɪᴅᴇs… Eғғ - Eғғ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ʀᴜɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢs. Bᴇғᴏʀᴇ,“ the former Wall Monster said, stiltedly. “I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʙʏ ʜɪᴍ.”

“Aɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴅɪsᴀssᴏᴄɪᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ-ɪɴᴅᴜᴄᴇᴅ PTSD,” they DIDN’T say.

Red pupils started to glow brighter in anger as the body’s new host realized that there is no monster to feed. Not anymore.

WHERE IS IT!? WHERE IS THE WALL!?

Johnny was brought back, only to answer the question. He couldn’t, it only took a second for him to realize his surroundings and start to breath heavily. Oh no- we don’t want that. Like a switch Johnny was sent back to be trapped in his own head, unable to get out.

Eff scowled and banged the machete against the unoccupied wall. He then paused as he sensed something, and grinned once he realized.

Hᴀʜᴀʜᴀʜᴀ! Hᴇʏ Jᴏʜɴɴʏ! Lᴏᴏᴋs ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ!

Tak heard the bangs, figuring via sound that they were maybe a floor away.

It was then that she realized the cause. So he’s found out there’s no Wall, has he?

She turned her head to the duo behind her. “Edgar, Lil Shit- this- this isn’t going to be easy. I don’t expect it to be pretty - I guarantee blood WILL be shed, if just to subdue. I’m not going to kill him or permanently injure him - the worst injuries will be if he fights the restraints on my PAK legs. But- with a doughboy puppeteering…”

She grimaces. “I don’t expect that either of us will escape without a nick or two.” She looked to Edgar. “Edgar - I’d be more comfortable if you stayed behind - you’re not trained in CQC, and unless you’ve got a tranq gun… well.” “Lil Shit? Could you try and talk sense into Edgar? If you can’t - please protect him? Prince would NEVER forgive me if anything happened to him.”

“I don’t expect it to be, Tak. But I’m not just going to stand idly-by during all this. I’ve held my ground before and I’ll do it again. I understand your need to protect me and keep me safe, but what you last said is false because you couldn’t keep me on the sidelines if you tried. If anything did happen… trust me, it’s not you he’ll be blaming.” It’s himself.

“I’ve had some practice wrangling in bulls, taming wild horses, and herding cows. You underestimate the strength I do happen to have.”

“Please, Tak, I have to be there for him now, not after.” Edgar phrased it as a question, but there was no negotiating in his eyes. He was determined.

Lil Shit huffed. “Yᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ʙʟᴀᴍɪɴɢ Tᴀᴋ OR ʏᴏᴜ. Hᴇ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʟᴀᴍɪɴɢ HIMSELF. Eᴅɢᴀʀ - Eғғ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴ ᴛʜ��ᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴄɪᴛʏ ʜᴀs sᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ʟᴏᴡ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ-ɪɴ ʀᴀᴛᴇ.”

Right to the chase, cutting the bullshit with a knife sharper than ANY of Prince’s.

“Aɴᴅ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ʙʟᴀᴍᴇ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ sᴛᴏᴘ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ sᴛᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ.”

A last, desperate cry. “Tᴀᴋ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴛɪʀᴇ ғɪɢʜᴛ, ᴛᴏᴏ! Tʜɪs ɪsɴ'ᴛ ᴀ ғɪɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴘʟɪᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ.”

Johnny entered the room undetected, grinning maniacally as he watched the scene before him. He didn’t make his presence known until everyone stopped their noise

Oʜ ʜᴏᴡ ɴɪᴄᴇ, ᴀ ʀᴇsᴄᴜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ!

He had twin blades holstered at his sides, as he sauntered towards the group, smile unsettling.

Aʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴜᴄᴋᴇʀs ᴡɪʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴅɪᴇs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴜɴɴᴇʟs!

Tak quietly commanded the purple panels of her PAK to shift, allowing for efficient deployment of her PAK legs. She shifted slightly, adjusting her grip on her knives.

“Eff. Couldn’t we have a CIVILIZED conversation? Your counterpart was MUCH more civilized.” Psycho wasn’t, but Nny’s Eff? Eff was practically CORDIAL compared to this.

Tak stood her ground, slightly adjusting her stance.

“So, Eff - you’ve seen that the Wall no longer exists. There’s nothing to feed. Why stay? There’s nothing to slave away for.”

Tak has her PAK legs ready to shoot out at any moment.

Edgar finds it hard to make himself glare at Eff, being that he was currently masquerading as his fiance. Yet, when he talks, it’s not Johnny’s voice he hears, the doughboy’s voice is as grating as static on the radio and metal in your mouth.

His glare hardens the more he thinks of how much he despises this parasite. He stands his ground, following Eff’s movements carefully.

All six of Lil Shit’s main eyes narrow, muzzle contorting into a snarl. “I ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. As ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴇʀᴠᴇ? Wʜʏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇ sᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ SERVE ME BETTER?”

Their tendrils tauten, ready to fight.

I ɴᴇᴇᴅ ɴᴏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ!

He yelled at the canine monster.

Nᴏᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs sᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴘᴀᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ ғᴏʀᴍ!

He looked at everyone else, stance firm.

Dᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ Jᴏʜɴɴʏ’s ғᴀᴄᴇ sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ ɢᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs?

Eff questioned to the group, pointing out the various still healing wounds upon the body’s face and nose.

Bᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀsɴ'ᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ғɪɢʜᴛ!

He grinned.

Oʜ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’s ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇ I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ! I ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴡᴏʀsᴇ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ.

Tak’s spooch sank. She’d hoped it was from him fighting back - but maybe it WAS, Eff could be a liar. As she heard “so much worse-” her mouth moved, words flowed without thinking.

“NO- please. Please - is- is there ANYTHING? I’m a geneticist, I could give you your OWN body!” That I could easily kill, but you don’t have to know that.

Just- just don’t hurt him. Please.

Edgar hadn’t realized that those marks were blood. The ink from his mouth caught him off guard and he had no idea it was actually blood. There were so many cuts upon Johnny’s face. And his heart sank. Imagine looking in the mirror every day and being reminded of this incident, he hated thinking of all the backtracking this had caused. He hated imagining nights he’d spend comforting and assuring, and telling Johnny he was still handsome and that he still loved him and he’d keep him safe. He trusted him. He’d tell Johnny every single day he loved him and so much more. He loved that man so much, and just to let the doughboys try and take all of that away from both of them? He was nearly shaking with anger. It had no right doing this. His hands clenched and unclenched, heart racing, but he didn’t attack, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good right now to make the first move. But he doubted Eff would just take that offer.

What could Lil Shit do? They’d failed to keep Prince safe - They had to keep Edgar safe. They moved in front of Edgar subtly, using their body as shield.

Eff could sense their worry, and at Tak’s little outburst, immediately put his machete to the body’s throat.

Aɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴏᴅʏ sᴏᴜɴᴅs ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴᴄᴇ I ғɪɴɪsʜ ᴏғғ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ.

He looked everyone in the eyes, as he continued.

Is ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴏғғᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ? Bᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ I ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ɢʟᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪsᴘᴏsᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪs WEAK ғᴏʀᴍ! Uɴʟᴇss ʏᴏᴜ STOP YOUR HYSTERICS!

He screamed, putting the blade closer.

Oɴᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀ ʏᴇʟʟ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪs ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴅɪᴇs!

He threatened, tone almost half serious half mocking in a challenging way.

Tak stopped all movement. If she revealed how much Prince MEANT to her, Eff would kill him, which would emotionally destroy EVERYONE. If she said anything about how there was a spare body upstairs, he MIGHT kill him, then take the other body-

Fuck.

It looks like this was the only option she even HAD. She dropped her knives.

“I brought a spare body with me in hopes of negotiation. It’s upstairs. Lock these two up in another room. March me forward up the stairs. All I want in exchange is Nny’s safety. You get a free vessel. Nny gets his body back.”

Edgar had to keep a sharp ‘what’ from coming out of his mouth upon hearing Tak’s proposition. He looked in disbelief between Tak and Eff. He tensed physically.

Lil Shit was taken aback - more than they expected. They understood that this was certainly the road with the least death - shapeshifting guaranteed that they could free Edgar and find a way out via the tunnels - but Tak and Nny were still in danger.

…But it was a risk that Tak was willing to take - and Eff would be foolish NOT to.

Still threatening to cut “his” own neck, Eff still had the knife pointed to “himself” and he almost dropped it as he roared with Maniacal laughter.

Aɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ I'ᴍ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴏsᴀʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ THAT?

He sneered.

Wʜɪʟᴇ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴠᴇssᴇʟ ɪs ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴏғғᴇʀ, I'ᴍ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ I ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘʏ ᴏɴᴇ! he informed.

I'ᴠᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ Jᴏʜɴɴʏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ! Tʜɪs ʙᴏᴅʏ ɪs ᴠɪᴛᴀʟ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ - sᴜʀᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡᴇᴀᴋᴇɴᴇᴅ sᴛᴀᴛᴇ ɴᴏᴡ, ʙᴜᴛ I WILL ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ sᴛʀᴏɴɢᴇʀ!

He grins, now playfully twirling the machete in his hand, but keeping it slightly pointed to the group in warning.

Tʜɪs ғᴏʀᴍ ᴋɴᴏᴡs sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ sᴘᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋɪʟʟ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅs! THIS ɪs ᴍʏ ᴠᴇssᴇʟ! Mʏ ғᴏʀᴍ! I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴᴇ! Dᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ I'ᴅ ɢᴇᴛ ʀɪᴅ ᴏғ ɪᴛ NOW?

“Since day one?” Tak scoffed. “You might have controlled Prince, but you are missing oh so much, Fuck. Look me in the eyes and tell me you know who I am.”

Fall for it, please - allI need is eye contact and the REAL plan can start.

Edgar hated how depersonalizing Eff was being, of course he didn’t expect any different. It still made his blood boil hearing the way Eff only saw Johnny’s body as a source of control, just a meatbag with the knowledge needed to do the most damage. He could never understand why anybody just liked senseless violence, and yet here it was in physical form, using his fiance’s body to go through with its twisted acts.

Then he realized something, “Wait, Tak, that body upstairs has the same knowledge too. It’s basically you right? And you’re a qualified killer yourself.” He winced, not knowing how exactly Tak felt about being called that, but he’d say anything to sell the body to Eff.

Tak nodded, knowing EXACTLY what Edgar was doing. “Absolutely - it’s identical to me. I’m skilled at hand to hand, I’m skilled with ranged combat, I’m skilled at flat out WARFARE. I’m a trained soldier and mercenary.”

She lets her hologram fall. “And the best bit - I’m nigh immortal due to what I am. I can run on nearly nothing, live forever without any external influence- I’m practically a cockroach!”

“And I brought an empty body for bargaining - you’d have to be a FOOL to pass this up, Eff.”

He didn’t care about anything she had to say about the matter, until she called him a “FOOL”

Eff growled and aimed the knife at himself again.

WATCH YOUR TONGUE, YOU BITCH!

“My error - it certainly won’t happen again.” Eye contact. JACKPOT. A glint of her eyes.

“Mister Eff - would you kindly put the weapons down, please?”

He slowly lowered the weapon

I -

Wait a minute.

Nᴏ! Wʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ?! Dᴏɴ’ᴛ ʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ!

He looked back at Tak with a sharp glare, screaming at her

WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!

A bead of sweat trickled down Tak’s face.

“Mister Eff - put. The weapon. DOWN. ON THE GROUND. KICK IT AWAY.”

The hand that gripped the knife started to shake.

NO!

He was in control of this body!!! Not HER!

The knife fell to the floor anyway, and Eff grit his teeth. He then seemed to hesitant before kicking the knife away.

NO! NO! JOHNNY! I AM IN CONTROL! I AM!

He immediately scrambled for it and then aimed it at himself again

I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!

Tak is sweating heavily. “MISTER EFF - PUT THE WEAPON DOWN. AND DO NOT PICK ANY WEAPON UP.”

I’LL KILL YOU!

Eff gripped the knife tighter as he kept warning Johnny who barely had control now but was still conscious.

The knife fell to the floor regardless, and Eff’s hands started to shake as he found he couldn’t pick any other weapon up.

“MISTER EFF - hands at your sides and walk up to the main floor. Sit on the couch.” Tak’s sweating and tense, but she’s still in control.

Despite protest, despite yelling and screaming until the body’s throat is raspy, Eff walks over. He obeys. He sits in the couch.

Tak smirks, unfreezing the body, wrapping it in the drapes, hiding a knife up her sleeve.

“Now, since you wouldn’t of your own volition BEFORE - Mister Eff, transfer to the prone body on the coffee table.”

The body starts to shake as Eff tries to restrain himself, but the red in the body’s eyes are flickering. He won’t! THIS IS HIS BODY! NO! NO! NO!!

The red flickers until it goes out like a candle, ink that dripped from the mouth stops, and the body goes limp, eyes open, but unmoving.

The unconscious body on the coffee table opens its glowing red eyes.

Edgar has never been more happy to see the light from Nny’s eyes fade, but that immediately is overtaken by grief as he rushes to the fallen man’s side. He dives to his knees and carefully pulls Nny’s head into his lap, tears already accumulating in his eyes, “Johnny? Prince? Darling, can you hear me? Please, be okay.”

He places two fingers under a blood-stained chin, near the artery in his neck and checks for a pulse, waiting to see if there is one.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve realized that you can’t move Fuck. Thing is - this body? Yes, it’s absolutely operable - if you were me. You see - this backpack? That’s me at the absolute CORE of things. This is the host for all of that. And YOU - you can’t maneuver ANY of it because guess what - you’re not hooked up. You’re a game console without the power. But guess what? This game console was so very old. It was sparking, about to catch fire. So - naturally,” Tak moved fluidly, showing the knife. “I’VE GOT TO CUT THE CORD!”

She raised the knife above her head, burrowing the knife in her clone’s abdomen, ripping up, following with a slit throat.

She let the psychic implant deactivate and the knife drop from her hand.

“Well. Not everyone can say they’ve seen their own dead body, let alone stabbed themselves and come out without a scratch.”

It took a while for Nny to fully regain control again, once he realized that he could in fact be the only thing inside his own body again, his hand started to twitch, and though it would take him a minute to regain his sight he called out to a blurry world.

“Hello?” His voice was extremely hoarse, as if he had previously lost it.

Much to his relief he noticed the slight twitch of his hand and he reached for it, softly pressing his palm to his, not taking his fingers into his until he was sure that Nny knew who he was.

“Johnny, hey, can you hear me,” Edgar said, “It’s me, your fiance, Edgar.”

He began to smooth Nny’s hair back, finding a bit of blood coming off and staining his hand.

“Edgar?” Nny could barely talk, but damn he tried to! “…oh- yea..my fiancé-“ he tried to give him a small smile.

Tak sighed in relief as she finished wrapping up her corpse. “Oh thank Gaud, you’re alright.”

Somehow the alternate spelling and meaning is evident.

“Hey, darling. You’re safe now, okay,” he smiles down to him, slowly intertwining his fingers with Nny’s. “You’re okay.”

He gives Johnny’s forehead a small peck, he casts his eyes over to the spare dead Tak body being wrapped into the torn drapes. Only somewhat acknowledging how she had said the name, entirely sure it wasn’t towards who he thought it would normally be. But that was the last thing on his mind. He was just happy to have his fiance in his arms, alive and breathing. That was the first step in the right direction.

Nny acknowledged Edgar’s words with a smile, noticing that he couldn’t move his head or talk.

He noticed that his face seemed to hurt a little and he winced.

Edgar started to frown, seeing that Nny was in considerable pain, once the fog lifted of just being glad he was conscious, he turned to Tak.

“Uh Tak, a little help? I think we need to get him some medical attention, I really do not want to let these cuts get infected.”

Tak nods. “I was thinking the same thing. So we have the option of a Midge that has just got her daughter back from kidnapping, me - who can do first aid on humans - not much else, or a hospital and lies and more lies.”

“How about you do a bit of first aid and I’ll get the car running and clear out the back so you can lay him down later,” before he turns to leave he looks to Tak, “Do you need anything? Are you gonna be okay here for a minute while I get things ready?”

“Um- there should be a first aid kit in the bathroom- I’ll need that-”

He goes into the bathroom and the grabs the kit, handing it over to Tak, “Anything else?”

“Er- no, this should be fine,” she said, noticing the latex gloves inside. “Go clean out the car, okay?”

She put on the gloves and daubed a cotton ball with antiseptic. “Sorry, Prince - but this is going to sting worse than hellfire.”

He nods, mindlessly twirling they key-ring on his finger before opening the front door and heading out to the car before Tak starts the care. He knows he won’t be able to stand it, seeing Nny in any type of pain, even if it’s because he’s getting help.

Ah yes, the lovely soundtrack of “Prince, Injured, but NOT DEAD” - featuring such great hits as:

“Oy- quit SQUIRMING! I’m TRYING to make sure your nose doesn’t SET LIKE THIS!”

“Hey if you want a fucked up eyebrow and blood in your eye that’s fine, I’ll - OH NOW YOU WANT HELP?”

“What the- DID YOU BITE THROUGH YOUR LIP? No- no, that’s just a cut.”

And finally:

“Well this isn’t optimal.”

Well, at least they were going to the hospital.

End Thread

1 note · View note

kingwsly · 6 years ago

Note

“I can’t do that.”

MEME. ( randomness ) @thebrightestwltch

had the situation been different, maybe the answer wouldn’t have sent a wave of frustration through ron in that moment. but, considering it was a life or death moment? he thought his frustration at quite possibly the only other person alive was entirely justified. hell, he was scared out of his mind and convinced he was going to be the next human kebab, thrown onto a hook and left for sacrifice to some weird multi armed creature. just the thought left a shiver running down his spine, even despite the muggy heat of the swampland they were currently creeping through. what they’d just witnessed? if he survived this, he would never forget that sickening image. it was probably why hermione was in some sort of shock. hell, he wasn’t entirely sure why he wasn’t in shock. he was no hero. he’d watched people being chopped down with machetes and axes too much over the last few hours. hell, he’d only managed to get one generator going out of god knows how many that were needed to power something. possibly an escape? possibly just for nothing, leaving them illuminated for some sick psychopath’s taking.

❝ you have to. ❞ his voice was a strained whisper, pained and far too desperate. but, giving up wasn’t an option and can’t wasn’t something he had the patience for. that was his excuse for all but shoving hermione into the cramped locker before climbing in himself. he wasn’t that guy who manhandled anyone. that wasn’t his thing, but he wasn’t watching hermione die. not a chance. perhaps it was selfish. she was smart and nimble and had figured out way more than he had and he had a distinct feeling that he wasn’t getting out of here without her help. so, maybe he was smart for making the decision to ensure she survived as well, right? or maybe he didn’t want to die alone. that could have easily been the other option.

as he closed the creaking metal doors shut, ron felt an instant regret running through him. the sound of their exhausted, adrenalin fuelled breathing was amplified by the metal box. as was the heat, leaving the cold sweat of fear turning into the sweat of running for his life in some disgusting, muggy, too hot land he’d never seen before. while his eyes adjusted to the new level of darkness, ron realised he’d been gripping hermione’s wrist possibly a little too tightly. given the situation, perhaps it was forgivable. he’d either sentenced them both to die in a metal locker sized coffin, or he’d saved them from the looming footsteps. surely that was worth maybe bruising her wrist in the long run, right? even still, he opened his mouth to apologise or even just find something to fill the uncomfortable silence that bred anticipation and fear. yet, just as the first breathy sound left him, the thud of footsteps began to grow louder on the wooden deck just outside the locker. the fear simply left ron seeing his life flash before his eyes combined with the uncomfortable ringing of his own terrified heartbeat thundering in his ears. god, he’d been so naive to think he was going to make it to at least fifty before having to worry about dying. even then, he was somewhat sure his overindulgences were what was going to get him, not some sick murderer wearing a mask and wielding weapons that belonged in super villain lockers.

then, the scrape of metal on metal happened. for some reason, it prompted ron to slowly raise onto his tiptoes to peer out of the small vent at the top of the lockers. he definitely regretted that instantly. he could see the monster that had been chasing and killing them with far too much detail. the light from the nearby generator was illuminating his skin. what ron had once thought was just some disturbed human, no longer looked human with the way the muscles were so obvious and no skin was covering them. even the laboured breathing seemed non-human. more animalistic in some ravenous way. almost as soon as his eyes caught sight of the monster, ron dropped from his tiptoes. of course, he’d forgotten that he was standing on rusty metal, on a creaky deck, in a very humid swamp - all of which led to a telltale squeak-thump combination, just from the transfer of his weight. it was enough to alert the monster, leaving ron throwing his arm over hermione in some last ditch effort to protect her even as his eyes closed and he swallowed thickly. he was braced for the worst. this sick whatever it was, wasn’t just going to let him die easily. he’d seen what it did: injuring people until they were gasping and sobbing in agony. only then did he hand them over and dispose of them on the weird hooks.

the creaking of the deck under the weight of the killer left ron’s stomach churning uncomfortably. in his mind, he could only picture the half covered face peering in through the cracks, a sadistic smile landing on its face knowing it had caught someone else. then, a loud bang. one of the generators, signaling that someone was near, accompanied by the bone chilling and deafening screech of the killer’s chainsaw slowly distancing away from the locker. it was only when ron heard the scream of someone else - maybe it was the blonde he’d passed earlier who had found some old tools, or perhaps the short guy who seemed to be running in circles - that he realised he had been holding his breath. it sounded far enough away to give them a chance at escape. although, something in him just wouldn’t let him move just yet. his arm was still pressing hermione back against the locker, eyes slowly opening. it took a few breaths before he was able to at least pretend to compose himself, coupled with an audible swallowing of bitter saliva that had gathered as his stomach turned in the midst of fear.

❝ come on. we’re not dying here. ❞ his words, although whispered low enough that they were just audible, sounded far more confident than he felt. hell, he was glad that it was dark inside of the locker because it was hiding the shaking of his hands as he reached to push open the door. just a crack at first, then just enough to let them both out - if he’d learned anything, it was to not put any excess strain on anything around here. the crumbling buildings seemed to scream when climbed or touched when on the run. hell, the ground seemed to be giving them away. and the birds? it was like they were following them, insisting on calling out that they were still around. although self preservation felt like the logical, selfish choice, as he stepped out onto the deck again and held out a hand for hermione, ron felt a sense of guilt. he hoped desperately that, whoever the person was that had backfired the generator? they’d gotten away safely. if not, he owed them. ron wasn’t even sure it was possible to survive being on one of those hooks, but if he came across anyone hanging there, he was going to get them down. a more dignified death with the comfort of another person rather than being sacrificed to god knows what? he’d have preferred that.

❝ let’s go. ❞

#thebrightestwltch #murder tw #killer tw #⋆ ♛ ❛ one person can’t feel all that at once. they’d explode! ❜ ⟨ answered meme. ⟩#⋆ ♛ ❛ always the tone of surprise. ❜ ⟨ hermione granger . ⟩#⋆ ♛ ❛ and what in the name of merlin’s most baggy y fronts was that about? ❜ ⟨ to be tagged . ⟩#dbd verse #sorry not sorry this is your fault

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practicingmedicine · 3 years ago

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Practicing Medicine: Chapter 5

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> STATUS

Battery Level: 100%

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> TIME

Day: 24 SEP. 2176

Time: 06:12

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Background Radiation: 0.431 RAD

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I woke up to the pleasant smell of fresh-cooked bacon mingling with the less pleasant smell of rotting wood. I rubbed my eyes- had I really fallen asleep in the damn cabin? My back hurt, my joints ached, and, according to the pip-boy, it was 6:12 AM, almost two hours before my normal wake-up time. Though my back screamed at me to lay back down, I forced myself to stand, audibly popping at least a few joints in the process. I muttered some bad words under my breath and tried to stabilize myself against one of the shelves. Soon as I pushed on it, I could feel the wood yield, splitting and snapping off in one violent motion. I tumbled to the ground along with it and a heap of medical supplies. “Goddammit,” I groaned. I started trying to scoop up the fallen supplies. None of them seemed damaged, but so much had fallen- Bottles of pills, bags of rad-away, surgical implements from the bottom of the bag…

Suddenly, the wooden door creaked open. I made a noise like a caveman who’d just been spotted screwing his buddy’s wife, and turned around to face the intruder.

“Isaac- Oh my gosh, did you actually fall asleep in there?” I couldn’t tell if that was worry that I heard in her voice, or mocking. I looked away from her.

“Yeah. I was just cleaning up in here,” I said, scooping up a few more items and putting them back into my bag. I could feel Cook’s eyes on me as I struggled to reach for a couple of items that were on top of one of the intact shelves.

“Well, you can finish packing later. I made some home-style bacon, which as I’m sure you know has a pretty short tastiness half-life before it gets all weird and chewy.” I nodded.

“Um- yeah, you’re right. Is it that weird NCR ration stuff?” I asked, following her outside the shack.

“Technically, but I think you’ll like it. I can turn a pack of instant noodles into Taglioni ai enokitake-mutante! ” She wore a proud grin when she said that, and I gave her a weak little smile back.

“Mm.”

The rising sun felt painfully bright as I scanned the horizon, noting that we had passed the big radio-tower that loomed in the mountains beside Primm. Of course, we really hadn’t traveled far yet- I could still see Primm, with its neon signs and its indefinitely under-construction roller coaster standing out against the hilly background. The coaster had been the previous Casino-owner’s idea, but Mom had decided to see it to completion. She let me ride one of the parts that worked once; I quickly decided to never ride a roller coaster again.

Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be at home with mom- not the sick mom, but the strong, gambling, slightly-tipsy mom that I had spent my boyhood with! I blinked back tears as I stared at the home I was leaving behind, then quickly turned around.

“Goddamn sun is getting in my eyes,” I muttered, and kept limping towards the scent of Bacon.

Cook and I walked around the side of the shack, and over a little hill. Once we reached the crest, I could see the campsite below, just off the highway, behind a massive boulder. The wagon and its two brahmin sat off to one side, a few yards away from a shoddily constructed fire pit, where I could see Gram sitting in a folding lawn chair. Cook led me down the steep hillside, silently indicating for me to follow behind her. It took me a second, but I got the message after slipping on the third loose rock. Standing atop the boulder, I could see the unmistakable outline of Tandi, who I think was waving.

“Took you long enough!” she shouted, her voice amplified by her helmet. Cook gave her a defiant middle finger.

“I’ll spit in your dinner!” she shouted back, cupping her free-hand over her mouth. I assumed a look of quiet horror.

“Cook! That’s a textbook BSI violation!”

Tandi hopped down from the rock, executing a perfect tumble just as I remembered that she had a horribly injured leg. I almost shouted in protest, then realized that she was already standing again. She dusted herself off.

“‘Morning, fellas,” said Gram, tipping his hat at us from his rusty folding chair. I gave him a quick salute.

“‘Morning, sir! Sorry I took so long to get up.” Gram gave me a dismissive wave.

"You’re the one missing out on a hot breakfast. Check the fire, I’ll bet there’s some left.”

I don’t much like fire, but I also didn’t like how hungry I was feeling. So despite my fears about the safety of the fire pit, I walked up and knelt beside it. It wasn’t a big fire- it had been made from a couple of planks of plywood and a chunk of tire, though I was also pretty sure I saw something metal in there somewhere. It had been built inside a hand-dug pit, with the shovel still lying off to the side, which worried me a little bit. What if I fell in? Would I fall into my own fiery grave of burning embers?

Stupid. I was being stupid. The fire was burning low now, and there were two pans of delicious Brahmin bacon cooking over the stove. That was the important thing here.

“How do you recommend taking these out?” I asked, staring at the delicious bacon which awaited me in the pan below. It was tempting to just try to grab it, but… fire, you know?

Cook motioned for me to move out of the way. She was holding a machete covered in dried blood- Animal blood, I hoped, while I moseyed right-on out of the way. Cook stepped up where I had been standing, and nimbly scooped up four strips of bacon with the machete. She wheeled around on one heel to face me, and I froze, trying not to be worried about the blade that was now just inches away from my chest. Cook smiled.

“How many do you want?” She asked. I looked down at my poor, empty stomach, then back up at her.

“...Can I just have all four? I don’t think I ate breakfast, lunch or dinner yesterday.” Food had been the last thing on my mind.

“A man after my own tastes, I see! Stress-eating is the noblest kind of eating,” she replied. She tilted her machete downwards a bit, and I quickly cupped my hands to catch the sliding strips of meaty goodness. I juggled them around in my hands as the worst of the heat dissipated.

“You don’t know the half of it. Got any plates?” Cook shook her head.

“Nope. We have a couple of bowls for soup, but I just cleaned those. Find a rock or something.” She looked at me for a moment, and screwed up her face a little. “Why are you here anyways? No offense- I like Doctors, and you seem cool! But you don’t seem like someone who’s traveled before, and New Vegas is far away. What brought this on?”

I thought for a second. I had deliberately withheld that information from Gram because I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but I wasn’t really worried about Cook. Would she tell Gram? Would he be annoyed that I’d been withholding information?

Was I maybe overthinking this a little?

“My mom’s sick. I need to see the Followers to get her help, and they’re stationed in New Vegas now.”

There. Noncommittal- I didn’t say she was dying, just that she needed help. I didn’t let on too much about the circumstances, either. I just told the truth. And I always say, reluctant honesty is the best policy, on account of It fostering character growth or something.

Come to think of it, I was starting to see why characters in the books that father always read me didn’t just dump their deepest, darkest problems on each other as soon as they met. I’d always been of the mind that most of their problems would be cleared up if they were just honest with each other- that was my thinking behind the examination. But now, I was seeing firsthand the dangers of sharing information with new people. If I told Gram or Tandi the wrong thing, or presented it the wrong way, I could see myself winding up abandoned.

Cook seemed safe, though. Where Gram seemed to care only as it related to running an effective team, and Tandi didn’t seem to care at all, Cook seemed endlessly fascinated by most things. In the examination room, she had been interested by my hand, by her own strange biology, and seemingly just by me.

Based off of that, I was pretty sure she wasn’t testing me or looking for a reaction when she asked that question. She just really wanted to know.

“Oh. I’m gonna guess that what she has is terminal?” ventured Cook, trying to make scary eye contact for some reason. I sighed.

“...Yeah. My mom has cancer. Nothing I can do about it, but I know some doctors who I’m hoping to convince to come back and help. My Aunt Julie is kind of a big deal there, and I’ll bet I could guilt trip her.”

“Oh.” We both sat in silence.

Well, there went keeping that part a secret . Still, it didn’t really matter- if I was desperate enough to mosey on up from Primm to New Vegas and beg for help, anyone with an ounce of brainpower could guess that the situation was pretty serious.

I started munching on my strips of bacon, which admittedly brightened my mood a little. I think I was on about the third piece of bacon when Cook finally decided to try to restart the conversation.

“I’m really sorry- not about your mom- well, obviously about your mom, but also about…

"Bringing it up like that,” I said, finishing her thought for her. She tugged at the hem of her dress.

“Yeah. I don’t always think before I talk.”

Well, I could understand that, at least. Not that I didn’t think before I spoke, but that I didn’t think about the right things before I spoke. I’ve always tried my best to be kind to everyone, but my idea of kindness is a lot different than most people’s. For example, most people will tell you that they’d like for you to tell the truth, which is good- I like telling the truth, makes me feel better- but when you tell them the truth, they get all upset and tell you that you shouldn’t be so mean. It’s infuriating- if they want me to lie, why don’t they fuckin tell me so?

Well, actually, maybe that’s a bit too much to expect, but it would be nice if they didn’t preface it with, “ Be honest ,” seeing as how they expect the opposite. But I digress.

“It’s okay- I have a similar problem,” I replied. Then I thought back a little, and decided to be proactive. “Actually, can I ask you a quick question?”

Cook nodded. “Ask away!”

“When you say, “be honest,” do you mean it? Like, I’ve noticed that a lot of people tell me that, and then when I tell them the truth they get all freaked out. You ain’t going to do that, right?” I asked. She grinned.

“Oh, thank gosh- I thought you were about to start asking me about my past or something. Um, no, I definitely won’t freak out if you’re honest with me. Actually, I kind of hate it when people mince words to make things sound better,” she replied, scooping up another few strips of bacon with her machete. She offered me one.

“No, but thank you!” I instinctively backed up a few inches as the blade came within chopping-distance of my nose. She smirked.

“More for me, I guess.” I watched with confusion and fascination as Cook flicked her machete, tossing all three strips of bacon into the air, and then subsequently caught them with her mouth. I couldn’t pretend that that wasn’t kind of impressive, but I honestly wasn’t sure how to show my appreciation for a stunt like that.

“That was kinda nasty,” I offered. Cook scoffed at me through the bacon.

“Oh, come on, you’re a doctor! Isn’t your bar for what’s, “nasty” a little higher than that?” I shrugged.

“I never said that stuff wasn’t nasty. But, I poke around people’s guts all the time. I don’t think I’ve ever watched someone do that before,” I replied. That was a little bit of a fib- I actually didn’t root around inside people’s internals very often. In fact, yesterday was the first time that I’d done anything that involved so much blood. But, I’d seen father do the same thing a thousand times, and I’d practiced on corpses and looked at diagrams, gotten a sense for what it was like. Even by that time in my life, the smell of blood on skin was one I wasn’t ever gonna forget.

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment- I made a doctor sick to his stomach,” she said, finishing off the last of the bacon and wiping her mouth. I shook my head.

“No, see, I didn’t say you made me sick, I said it was “ kinda nasty- ” there’s a big difference!”

“You two, shut up and pack your shit! We’re leaving!”

We both turned around to face Tandi, who had been stalking up behind us, helmet underneath her arm. She looked a lot better in the morning sunlight than she did in the sickly glow of the flash-lit shed. Her hair flowed behind her as the wind blew, and she was able to stand at her full, impressive height, which was at least a foot taller than me. Cook and I were both completely dwarfed by that woman.

“I’m already packed--Isaac isn’t, but that’s my fault. I fetched him for breakfast before he could finish,” said Cook, and I silently appreciated her jumping to my defense like that. Tandi rolled her eyes at us with her entire upper body, and pointed in the direction of the shed.

“Well get to it then! I’m gonna scout ahead, check the usual places. Don’t do nothing stupid,” she suggested, slipping her helmet back on. Before I could think of a clever retort, Tandi was already out of earshot. She gave Gram a lazy salute as she strolled past him, and he tossed her something- a rifle, I think. She caught it with practiced ease. Then she strode behind the boulder, and out of sight.

“She’s real scary,” I decided. Cook shrugged.

“I like her. I mean, she’s not usually this mean- She’s just not a morning person. Give her some time, eh? She’ll warm up.” I gave her a look that suggested the opposite.

“Really? What could she possibly like about me? I’m a small-town doctor, she wouldn’t let someone like me tie her boot-laces!” Cook looked annoyed now. Were they actually friends or something?

“Yeah, and I’m a cook, if you couldn’t tell! She doesn’t care what you do, she cares what kind of person you are. As long as you aren’t a complete coward or one of Caesar’s cronies, she’ll be fine with you.”

I sighed. “Okay, maybe. I’m still just gonna stay out of her way unless I’ve got to.” Cook didn’t argue with that. I looked up at the hillside that the shed lay behind. “Do you want to help me pack up?”

She shrugged. “I guess. I’ve really got nothing better to do.

That was fine by me.

-Break-

“How’s that yellow brick road song go? We should be hummin’ that right now,” suggested Tandi, strolling beside me and Gram. Cook was sitting on the top of the wagon, enjoying a midmorning snack of NCR rationed trail-mix.

“You mean the Elton John one? It’s like, “ When are you gonna come down, When are you going to Land -“ started Gram, getting into the rhythm of the song with his gravelly voice. Tandi shook her head.

“Nah, not that hippy shit! I’m talkin’ about the one that the little brat in the wizard movie sings!” I perked up at that.

“You’re talking about the Wizard of Oz!” I replied. That movie was like, one of three that I had ever seen! Tandi nodded.

"Yeah, that one! How’s the song go?”

“Well, it’s like, “ Follow the Yellow Brick Road, Follow the Yellow Brick Road, Follow the Yellow Brick road !” and then there’s a trumpet thing and then they start singing that they’re, ‘ off to see the Wonderful Wizard of Oz ,” I explained, doing a happy little jig as I sang each musical number. I couldn’t see Tandi’s expression, but I don’t think she was very impressed.

“That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said. After a brief pause, she began to hum the song. I hummed along, and eventually, Cook caught on and started humming too. Gram just looked annoyed.

"We’re off to see the wizard ...” Gram rolled his eyes at me. “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz! Come on, sing with me!”

“Yeah! I’ve heard you sing before, you’ve got a great voice!” said Cook. Tandi just kept humming along, walking forwards just a little faster than the rest of us as she hummed. The humming was surprisingly recognizable, given that it was being so grossly distorted.

“The Wizard of Oz is one becozzzzz…” I started, grinning evilly at Gram. He lit a cigar.

“I consider this your fault.”

Tandi began to hum louder, and Cook took that as a cue to join back in. I just grinned and kept humming along, happy to lighten the mood for the other two. It was getting really hot, after all, and we had already walked a couple of miles this morning.

Still humming, I checked the route guidance on my pip-boy. We were currently bound for Sloan, a little NCR mining town to our West, which was still many miles away. Thankfully, the highway was flat--slightly downhill actually, so the journey wasn’t even hard on my legs. Mom and I would go hiking up to the old cell tower back in the day, and I’d been keeping in decent shape by running the neighborhood almost every morning since then.

The others weren’t tiring either, which was refreshing. Tandi was so well exercised (and determined) that she could probably walk up a 90 degree slope, and Gram just seemed to be perpetually strolling through some sort of imaginary park. It wasn’t so much that he was fit, but that he saved his energy so well that it was almost supernatural.

Cook, on the other hand, was not big on hiking. I didn’t get the impression that she did any sort of dedicated exercises, and she was a lot heavier than any of the rest of us. So, she usually just sat on the top of the wagon, occasionally getting down and walking with us for a while. It was kind of fun to wave to her and shout back and forth from the ground to the top of the caravan though, so I didn’t judge.

Despite my ability to keep up, I still got the sense I was doing something wrong. The sun seemed to be getting to me a lot more than the others, which was strange considering how much time I spent outside. I was fanning myself off, taking little breaks behind the occasional shade-granting boulder, and even staying hydrated (despite our best attempts to run out our water reserves before we reached Sloan.)

So, I gave myself a mission: as we walked, I tried to look out for things that the others might be doing differently. At first, my search was fruitless--I didn’t notice anything different. We were all wearing long sleeves, (Except Cook, who was still wearing a sundress, and also keeping her back to the sun which I think meant she was taking my advice.) we were all walking at a comfortable pace, and we were all taking steps to stay hydrated. Then, as I was doing a quick scan, I noticed something-

H A T S

They all had hats!

Gram wore a bowler hat, Cook wore a baseball cap with a maple leaf on it (or sometimes a floppy hat,) and Tandi was rocking her ranger helmet. Did it really make that big of a difference? There was only one way to find out.

“Hey, Gram! Do you maybe have like, a hat I could use?”

Without even turning around, Gram chuckled at me- had he been expecting this? Did this happen to every new recruit or something? I felt a little bit like I’d failed another test.

“I was waiting for you to ask. Yeah, I got a few choices. You wouldn’t believe the difference they make!”

So he had been expecting this! I tried not to look forlorn as Gram stopped the Brahmin, opened up the back of the wagon, and ushered me inside.

I hadn’t ever seen the inside of the thing. The frame of the wagon was made of wood, I noted, and it had open sides, but Gram had covered it in brown-colored blankets, except for the place where a spigot for getting water stuck out the side of the wagon. The doors in the back weren’t locked in any sort of way, although there was a bar that Gram had to slide so that they could open up, probably so that it wouldn’t come open by accident.

Inside, there was a big black box- in fact, the frame of the wagon had been slightly modified to hold the thing, it was so big. The box was clearly locked, and it took up almost all the space inside the wagon. In the space that the box didn’t take up, there was a machine gun, a laser rifle, cooking supplies, some sort of emergency-medical-supplies box that I was pretty sure was made to hold stimpacks, a bunch of tangled up electronics that I wouldn’t even try to identify, and a few hooks with spare clothes hanging on them. At the tip of each hook was a hat or helmet, bobbing pleasantly as the wagon came to a complete stop.

“Well, Isaac, take your pick- if you can’t reach it, we can get Tandi,” said Gram, indicating the helmets in the very back of the wagon, a space that was hard to reach on account of the massive black box. I gave it a kick.

“What’s in here?” I asked. Gram shrugged.

“The NCR wouldn’t tell me- they just said that it was important, and sent me on my way.” He leaned over like he was getting ready to spill me a secret. I gave him my ear. “They promised me a hundred-thousand caps for this. None of those NCR dollars- good, solid caps. And a hunded thousand, do you know what that could buy? That’s enough to disrupt this economy in a big way. That’s more than I’ve made on every other shipment combined.”

Normally, I didn’t think much about money, but I had to admit that the number floored me. The things that a man could do with a hundred-thousand caps…

Of course, it was the NCR offering the money, so I was pretty sure Gram was going to get fleeced somehow. They would impose some ridiculous tax on his payment, or just plain sweep him under the rug, since the whole deal had presumably been made in secret. That was how the NCR operated- it was part of why the Followers had been so reluctant to work with them, and why father had hated them so much. And to be honest with you, I couldn’t disagree with him. The NCR wanted a police state, and freedom wasn’t something I took lightly. I figured that people don’t need a bunch of jackbooted thugs with barking-irons telling them how to live their lives, when they had been perfectly content before. Raiders were a problem, sure, but the NCR had really only made the problem worse by acknowledging the issue and then failing to do anything about it.

Of course, the NCR was also the only thing keeping the legion from coming in and killing us all, so I tolerated them for that. No matter how much the NCR might’ve sucked, they were better than Caesar’s Legion. At least some of them thought they were doing the right thing, even if most of them were hopelessly corrupt…

“Isaac? You gonna choose a hat?” Asked Gram. He only seemed a little bit bothered.

“Yeah, of course. Sorry,” I murmured, and started scanning the hats on display. There was a floppy hat, a tan ballistic helmet, an old firefighter-helmet, a police cap, another floppy hat...

“I’ll take the fire helmet,” I said, and pointed at the scratched grey helmet that shared a hook with a bomber jacket and a couple of sundresses. It didn’t have quite the same sun-blocking properties as a floppy hat, or the safety features of a ballistic helmet, but I’d worn a fire helmet before and it seemed like it would perform both roles fairly well.

“Alright. Can you reach it?” I nodded.

“Hell yeah I can reach it!” Though it was on one of the farther hooks, I compensated by pushing myself up to the top of the black box with one hand, and reaching for the helmet with my weird hand. I wasn’t tall enough to pull it off the hook, so instead I knocked it off from the bottom and grabbed it from on top of the black box. Once I had secured it, I let myself slide down.

“Got it,” I muttered, and slipped the helmet on. Because of some convenient rigging inside the helmet, it was surprisingly snug on my head, though I could feel it bob a little when I moved.

“Well, it’s loose for sure, but it’ll give you some good shade. Has your decision got anything to do with the thing on the front?” he asked, poking me in the center of my helmet with his finger, right where the emblem sat. I nodded sheepishly. Part of the reason I had picked it was, indeed, on account of the cool blue star of life on the front. I knew I wasn’t anything like the paramedics of the past, but I had considered them to be a sort of ideal when I was younger. Since then, I’d never quite shaken the idea of being like a pre-war medic.

“Well, come on, let’s not lose any more time. We’re closer than you might think,” he said, leading me out of the wagon. He shut the doors, and looked over the caravan with a big grin.

"In fact, riiiiggght around this bend, we’ll be able to see Sloan. We’re booming along today, just absolutely killing it! Who knows- maybe we can even get back on the road after we stop,” he continued, clearly trying to get a rise out of us. On cue, Cook groaned obnoxiously, and Tandi mumbled something about armor plates and sweat. I groaned too, but my heart wasn’t in it- I was on this journey to save mom, and the quicker it went, and the fewer hitches we ran into, the more successful I was likely to be.

“Sloan-Ho!” shouted Cook as the cart rounded the bend in the highway that had been necessitated by two giant, rocky hills. Tandi snorted at that, and I gotta admit that I smiled a little too. The town of Sloan, though still far away, was now straight ahead.

New Vegas was a long ways away from here, but I was glad that we were already making so much progress. Considering how well things had been going, it was all too easy to forget that I was on a tight, invisible timer, slowly counting down to, “too late.”

[+]

#fallout #fallout fanfic #fallout fanfiction #fallout fandom

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elopez7228 · 7 years ago

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FORCE & FURY - a MadMax Au Reylo Fanfic. English version chapter 2 : Niima

Kylo Ren stopped his vehicle well away from the village. His car had used to be a convertible, and he appreciated its sharp outline, similar to his own. It was painted black, equipped with four-wheel drive, desert tires, bull bars, and rifles, stationary in the front and mobile in the back. His car was easily outweighed by any truck, or even a close-combat vehicle, but it was fast and swift, and between his hands, it was deadly.

Two war troopers, pawns of the First Order’s chessboard, pulled their bikes up alongside the black car. Kylo Ren read the fear in their eyes. It was dark out; they were concerned about an ambush. How pathetic. Kylo Ren gave a slight wave with his gloved hand. His voice modified by his helmet’s modulator, he ordered, “Wait here.”

“Yes, m-my Lord,” stuttered the first one, loading his sawn-off shotgun.

Beneath his mask, Kylo Ren rolled his eyes. He raised his hood over his helmet, and clenched his fist on the handle of his weapon. Then he struck out into the night, towards Tuanul’s lights.

The buzz at the base of his skull became more pronounced as he drew closer to the village. There was not just human life in this place; there was water. Shutting his eyes, Kylo Ren managed to muffle the feeling. The village was quiet. No one was expecting an attack, especially not from a lone raider in the middle of the night.

He strode further into the village. A man had fallen asleep next to a fire pit, leaning against a rusty staff, his only weapon.

With one swift move, Kylo Ren grabbed the man’s throat. He gasped in surprise, but no sound passed his lips. He looked at his attacker with terror; he knew he was already dead. Kylo Ren’s gloved hand tightened around his throat, and the peasant struggled weakly, breathless, his feet dragging across the ground.

“Where is Lor San Tekka?” Ren asked, slightly tilting his head.

A gurgling sound escaped the man’s lips, and Ren eased his grip.

“Where is he?”

“The hut - the blue hut.” That was all the man managed to answer before collapsing on the ground as Ren released him.

Kylo looked at the man on the ground. He was coughing and spitting, eyes ready to pop out of his skull, legs shaking.

“Sound the alarm. Gather the whole village. I want every man, woman, and child here in three minutes. Those who try to hide shall feel my wrath.”

The dark lord spun around, sending up a spray of sand onto the crumpled man who burst into a coughing fit. As he walked towards the blue hut, he kept an eye on the man to make sure his orders where followed. The peasant stood up, staggered a little, and then started banging his staff against a metal tool, whose noise immediately launched a panic among the villagers. Most of them still half asleep, they crawled out of their miserable huts, trailers and wrecked cabins in a scramble.

The sudden bustle buzzed deep inside Kylo’s skull, similar to a swarm of bees. Everything turned into vibrations. But Kylo Ren had been well taught by his Lord and Master, and he knew how to decode the information that would have transmitted as a continuous hum of unintelligible noise to anyone else. Between the buzzing, he could sense a quiet man waiting behind the blue plastic tarp of a hut.

Kylo Ren threw it open.

Lor San Tekka was standing there, straight and tall in spite of his old age. He stared defiantly at the dark lord.

“Look how old you’ve become,” Kylo said matter-of-factly, his calm tone contrasting with the village’s agitation.

The old man, with striking blue eyes and a face marked with wrinkles, didn’t seem scared at all. His gaze was pitying.

“Something far worse has happened to you.”

“You know what I’ve come for.”

“I know where you come from. Before you called yourself Kylo Ren.”

Kylo Ren’s fist clenched on his weapon’s handle. With a swift move of his wrist, he ignited the blade. It was a massive weapon, fueled by an engine that scented the air with the smell of gasoline, and radiated scorching heat. Lor San Tekka backed away. Kylo Ren took a step towards him.

“The Resistance. You provide them water, shelter, and defy the First Order. Where is the pilot?”

Lor San Tekka raised his chin.

“The First Order rose from evil. You did not. You cannot deny the truth that is your family.”

They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“You’re so right. But it doesn’t matter. The pilot was hiding here; his dog has been observed wandering around the village. Where is he?”

“I won’t tell you. You’ll have to kill me.”

Kylo Ren’s voice, amplified by his mask, stroke with the fire saber [did you mean to change the name from lightsaber to fire saber?].

“So be it.”

The old man’s eyes glazed as he collapsed on the ground. His clothes caught fire. Mindless of the burning flames, Kylo Ren grabbed the old man by the scruff of his neck and dragged his body out of the hut.

Screams and whimpers arose when the gathered villagers recognized the burned corpse of their leader.

Kylo Ren gave a strong kick to a brazier, spreading red coals across the sand. Everybody gasped.

“This is the fate of anyone who commits treason towards the First Order; for anyone who supports the Resistance. The Baron Lor San Tekka is hereby stripped of his title, and – effective immediately - this village in seized by the Order. Troops of the Order will come to take possession of the well tomorrow.”

Inside his skull, pulses signaled the locations of the fugitives. One was hiding, alone, behind some rocks. A pair with a child was running east. Three adults, hoping to escape him, were walking north.

A lone man, behind him.

Kylo Ren swung and his blade, burning hot, hissed through the air. The man behind him screamed in pain and fell to his knees, dropping his machete to hold his side. Blood stained the sand around him.

“Those who disobey will be executed. Those trying to resist will be executed. Those who stand against me will be executed. Surrender to the First Order, or die.”

Frightened murmurs rose from the small crowd.

Kylo Ren turned on his heel, dragging the corpse in his wake. The sickening smell of burned flesh would linger for some time.

Once back to his vehicle, he instructed the War Troopers to keep watch over the village for the rest of the night, and to shoot those who tried to run. He didn’t worry that the troopers would be outnumbered and killed: their possible loss would ultimately be insignificant to the First Order’s huge numbers, but he doubted any in the village would risk the consequences. These miserable peasants knew better.

As for the handful of them who had run away… they were staggering, on foot, in the darkness. Darkness was nothing to him, who could see through it as if it was broad daylight. An unusual ability, one that also came with sharp hearing and a peculiar buzz at the base of his skull when he sensed a presence. Hunting down the missing villagers would be at worst a minor inconvenience. It was the pilot, Poe Dameron that he wanted. His presence, and that of the orange dog which followed him everywhere, were now invisible to Kylo Ren. That man could lead him to Leia Organa, the figurehead of the Resistance.

Just the thought of her filled Kylo with hate. He would find the dog, and that god forsaken pilot along with him, and then at last, his mother.

Kylo Ren got into his car and fired up the engine. They couldn’t escape from him.

The first thing Rey noticed when she woke up was that the dog was gone. She sat up, suddenly worried that Unkar might have kidnapped him. But a familiar headache reassured her; the dog wasn’t far. She stretched her sore arms. The dog was sleeping, curled up on the opposite side of the knocked over storage tank Rey had converted into her home. She had drilled holes into the rusty metal of the hull, and the morning light shining through them drew a delicate pattern on the opposite wall. Rey crawled to the hatchway, previously a circular lid meant to fill the tank with…well, whatever this tank was once filled with. A homemade handle now allowed Rey to operate it from the inside.

She crawled out and carefully checked her surroundings. Everything was quiet. Her bike was secured in its rightful place. The wagon was still loaded with yesterday’s stock.

Nobody had stolen from her, but she didn’t really need to verify that; if anyone had been close to her place, she would have sensed it. She filled a bowl with water and it didn’t take long before the dog crawled out of the tank for a drink. Rey scratched between his ears.

“What shall we name you? Fluffy? Or how about a name to freak out your enemies? Evil Lord of Death?”

She laughed. Evil Lord of Death was wagging his tail and licking her face. He was far from being a monstrous beast.

Rey swallowed a portion of tasteless protein, and offered the other half to the dog. She didn’t want to know what the portions were made of. Then she unlocked the chain that secured her bike, checked that the wagon was still well attached, and told the dog to hop on.

“Let’s go, get in. And stay still.”

She had considered keeping him inside until her return, but she knew animals had to get out and she didn’t feel like locking him up. Not to mention she was even more worried to leave him outside her hideout; he could ran away, or be captured and roasted on the spot. The best - or the least worse - option was to keep an eye on him at all times.

Rey lived outside of Niima. Human presence gave her terrible headaches and caused an unbearable ringing in her ears. She could only find peace and quiet away from everything, and everyone. And she was certainly not going to keep that dog much longer. She had to find a solution: tomorrow, she’d bring him back to Lor San Tekka. Somewhere, a lost traveller must be looking for their dog, and if no one was, then he would be happier in the village anyway…and she would feel better knowing him far away from Unkar Plutt’s henchmen.

Dawn broke over Niima, but the village was still asleep when Rey’s motorbike drew near its walls. The person on guard duty was a woman with scars on her arms and her face hidden under a patched up mask. She aimed at Rey from her improvised turret. Rey removed her cowl and goggles, and the woman waved her in. Rey drove slowly to the village’s main building, the only concrete structure in an entanglement of barrels, sheet metal, and plastic tarps.

A very fat man seemed busy among an accumulation of various items. He was so large and his skin was so oily, he looked like some kind of monstrous fish that had escaped from the sea. A tumor deformed his neck and his goiter bounced like jelly when he turned around.

“Rey. How did your trip go?”

“I found the shipwreck, Unkar. I brought you back a sample.”

She gave a tilt of her chin towards the wagon. Unkar leaned over his counter and froze when he saw the dog. Rey noticed it, but didn’t react, waiting for what would happen next. Unkar Plutt stepped back behind the counter.

“What you've brought me today is worth...Hmm…Two portions for the whole.”

Rey choked. “They’re worth at least two portions each!”

“What about the dog, hmm?”

Rey stepped back and frowned. “What about him?”

“I’ll pay for him. Sixty portions.”

And matching his words with action, Unkar laid cases of portions on the counter…along with jugs of water that made Rey’s throat go dry.

But she tangled her fingers in the dog’s fur, and shook her head.

“The dog is not for sale. Let’s talk about the shipwreck.”

Unkar acted busy and turned his back on Rey, but she came closer to the counter and raised her voice to be heard over the noise he was making.

“There is a stranded ship, one day away from here. No more gas in the bunkers, and unfortunately everything available for scavenging has already been taken, but with the proper tools there’s still a lot to salvage. Cables, too.”

Unkar came closer to her. He was wearing some sort of greasy overalls over his bare skin and Rey grimaced with disgust. She struggled to stay still when he leaned towards her and blew his rotten breath in her face.

“Then you’ll be leading the journey tomorrow, two hours before dawn. I’ll pick a team to go with you.”

“I want ten portions per piece we’ll bring back from there. Otherwise I’m not going.”

Unkar seemed startled for a moment then burst out laughing, and gave her a nasty look as he came even closer.

“You’ll get twelve portions for the whole trip, not one more. And if you refuse the deal, I’ll have your toes ripped off one by one with this little tool, until you tell me where the ship lays. Understood?”

In his right hand, he waved a rusty pair of pliers.

Rey bit her tongue. “Fine.”

Unkar put the pliers away.

“You forget who you are, kid. And who you belong to. Be careful, or you’ll get yourself in trouble.”

Rey turned away, her cheeks burning. She belonged to Plutt, she was well aware of that. She even had a mark on the calf as proof. Ever since she was a little girl, she had had to earn her food and water by exchanging supplies she scavenged here and there. Later, she found out about her ability; she could see in the dark, she sensed people, she could smell wells. She had become a scout after that, always moving ahead to detect ambushes. She had seen combat, she had been beaten hard, yet she was still here. In Niima, no one would have harmed her; they all knew how precious she was to the Baron Plutt. Yet he owned the right of life and death over her. If he decided to break her bones - or snip off her toes - no one would try to stop him.

Rey walked away and wiped a burning hot tear from her cheek. She unloaded her wagon, careful not to cut her fingers on the metal sheets. Then she carried it all, swearing and sweating, as Unkar looked on without making a move to help. When the equipment was all piled up under Unkar’s roof, he laid out the agreed portions for the delivery on the counter. Rey grabbed them without checking the quantity and shoved them into her pouch.

She climbed on her motorbike without looking back at Unkar, and the dog hopped into the empty wagon. She didn’t see Unkar stare at the dog with greedy eyes. She didn’t see him wave to two of his henchmen. She didn’t see them nod and part to circle her. Yet as she passed the village’s ramparts, she knew she was being followed, and that there were now four of them. She couldn’t see or hear them, but she sensed their presence, two from the north and two from the south, approaching fast. She sped up, seeking a boulder, a shelter, anything. But this part of the desert was only sand dunes, stretching as far as the eye could see. The mountains were too far away; in a moment, they would be on her.

Two quads suddenly jumped over the top of nearby dunes, spraying sand with a thunderous roar. Rey braked hard and turned her bike into a skid that almost upset the wagon. The dog landed on the floor but immediately scrambled to his feet, shaking himself to get rid of the sand. Jumping to the ground, the young girl grabbed her staff and held it in a defensive posture. The dog bared his fangs, fur rising along his neck.

“Fluffy Evil Lord of Death, now is the time to show me what you can do,” Rey hissed from between clenched teeth. Then she charged.

The fight was swift, messy, and brutal. There were four of them, two men and two women. One of the women had a mechanical arm that she flung around violently. The other hid her face behind a mask of leather and iron spikes, gripping a machete in each hand. Rey dodged a baton strike from one of the men, a 250-pound thug, and whacked at his knees with all her strength until he fell. Then she clubbed the back of his neck with her staff, and the man collapsed with a loud noise.

Rey was breathless, her senses sharp. The headache that plagued her every day became her strongest asset. She knew where her opponents stood without actually seeing them; she could feel their movements without having to look.

Meanwhile, the dog was barking loudly but he didn’t attack. If she had been in the mood for humor, Rey would have said something sarcastic about this orange animal that brought her nothing but trouble, but a blade hissed by her ear and she felt the painful bite of metal on her shoulder.

She swung her staff instinctively and felt it hit the soft flesh of the woman behind her, who screamed. Rey turned around and hit her over the head as hard as she could. There was a horrible crack. The body collapsed on the ground and blood stained the sand in a growing puddle. Rey picked up the machete and faced the two remaining thugs. One of them was struggling to contain the dog who was fighting desperately inside a net. The other, the woman with the mechanical arm, was out of breath. She stepped back and Rey realized that things were not going the way they had planned. She managed to catch her breath to speak.

“You shouldn’t attack me. I belong to Unkar Plutt. He’ll have you dismembered when he’ll find out you tried to kill me.”

The woman’s chest rose as she started to laugh.

“You think Unkar is your protector, huh? He’s the one who sent us, you fool.”

Rey gasped, stunned. Unkar? But he kept saying he needed her and her ability, and she knew how worthy she was to him. What could explain such a change of mind?

She clenched her fists on her weapons. “Did Unkar warn you I was going to kill you?”

The woman looked at her partner, busy kicking the dog in the net. Rey felt she was on the right track. She continued. “Of course not. He told you it would be easy. Release the dog and leave now.”

As she spoke, she kicked the corpse behind her with her heel. The soft flesh quivered.

Suddenly, the man screamed. The dog had bitten his calf to the bone. Instinctively, he dropped the net and the animal ran free, his muzzle red with blood. He had ripped a piece of flesh off the man’s leg.

“Fuck!” the man yelled. “I’m out of here.”

The woman didn’t seem so sure. Her head swiveled between the man, Rey, and the growling dog. The man hopped on his quad and started the engine without a second look. Fluffy-Evil-Lord-of-Death barked after him.

Only then did the henchwoman swear between her clenched teeth, and start backing up to the other quad. She pointed her finger at Rey.

“You won’t get away with this.”

“I’m sure,” Rey said. “Come back anytime.”

A moment later, the woman was out of sight.

As the adrenaline left her veins, Rey’s leg failed her. She fell onto the ground on her knees at first, and then let herself slide onto her the back, splaying her arms. She was sweating and her throat burned.

Unkar had sent his henchmen after her. They must have been mercenaries; no one in Niima would have agreed to such a job…and she actually had never seen them before. The dog came to lick her face and she rose onto her elbows.

“They were after you, Fluffy Evil Lord of Death. I wonder what’s so special about you?”

As an answer, Fluffy happily wagged his tail. Rey stood up and shook off the sand. She searched the two bodies for any useful items, then came back to her bike, legs shaking. She was exhausted.

She adjusted her goggles and gazed at the empty horizon.

Unkar owes me an explanation, she thought.

#reylo #mad max #star wars #au #CrossOver #fanfic

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huntertales · 7 years ago

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Part Two: Still a Better Love Story than Twilight. (Live Free or Twihard S06E05)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader investigate a rash of disappearances involving teenage girls, which they soon discover the girls are being lured by a nest of vampires. During the hunt, Dean is turned into a vampire and is faced with deathly consequences if he can’t resist his temptation to feed his thirst for human blood. In his final hours, fiction becomes reality when Dean and the reader share a moment that feels straight of a vampire paperback. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,142.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

There were typical signs of what to expect if someone had the unfortunate pleasure of turning themselves into a vampire. Sensitivity to light that felt like the person felt like they were staring straight into a blinding spotlight that made their sight go to a blinding white. Sounds were amplified so they could hear anything in the distance of a mile. Dean tried to block out the noises of the city—from the triggers of passing cars, horns from angry drivers, and sirens that felt like were going off left and right.

Dean felt like every sense in his body was amplified by a billion, his nerves were on fire. Sam attempted to be helpful by shutting the curtains, but the sound of the rusty metal rings dragging themselves across the bar made him wince in pain. It was like someone had dragged their nails across a blackboard directly next to his ear.

"Oh my God." Dean grunted in his frustration. "What is that sound?"

"What sound, Dean?" Sam asked, wondering what the older man might have been able to hear. The motel room, to him, remained fairly silent. The chaos going on down in the city streets below and their neighbor's activities remained a mystery to him.

Dean didn't answer his brother's question when he knocked over a lamp that happened to be in arm's length. The fluorescent light proved too much for the man to handle, and like a barbarian, he added more pain for himself when the lamp shattered to the floor into tiny pieces of glass and ceramics. The crashing noise made Dean wince in physical pain from the sound, but his senses calmed down ever so slightly when he didn't have the light shining directly in his eyes. However it only got worse when the next door neighbors decided to turn on their TV to the full volume and have a conversation that sounded like they were shouting on the top of their lungs. Dean rushed over to the wall and roughly pounded his fist in frustration.

“Hey, come on! Keep it down, damn it!” Dean turned away from the wall quicker than he should have done, causing him to look directly up at lighting fixture that hung from the ceiling. He found himself wincing in pain again and tried to block out the blinding light with his hand as he squinted, trying to not go blind. “Please, please shut that off. Jeez.”

Dean heard his brother's footsteps echo off the floors as he went over to flick the switch, making the room grow more darker. Dean could hear a sudden thumping in his ears, like a heartbeat. But he knew damn well it wasn't his own. "Dean, you should sit down." Sam said, trying to get his brother to feel a little more comfortable. Considering his new condition was making the man a little irritable to deal with.

“You sit down.” Dean mocked his little brother’s advice with a sarcastic tone. But he did what he was told. He walked over and sat himself at the edge of the bed. Dean cradled his throbbing head in his hands, willing to do just about anything to get this headache to go away. The man heard a passing horn of a train, which had to be at least a mile or two away from the motel. The noise made his head feel even worse. “Of all the ways to die, I never thought I'd be going out like this.”

“Dean, nobody is ‘going out.’” Sam said, trying his hardest to be the optimistic here.

The older Winchester refrained himself from making a remark when he heard a sudden strange noise pass his ears. It was a loud, mechanical ticking sound. Dean looked over his shoulder to the nightstand to see the alarm clock flipped over to the time of 11:11 p.m. He couldn’t take another second of hearing the noise. Dean pushed himself up to his feet and walked over to the nightstand. Without an ounce of regret, Dean roughly ripped the alarm clock's cord straight out of the wall, causing sparks to shout out. The noise in the room suddenly stopped at that. The neighbors were silent as the dead with the exception of shuffling feet. Nobody in the streets honked their horns. And Sam’s heartbeat still remained calm, even when his brother smashed the clock to bits and pieces, catching him off guard by the slightest.

“Samuel is gonna kill me when he gets here.” Dean said, thinking the worst possible situation was going to happen after his grandfather saw him like this. Sam looked at his brother with a surprised expression, denying their own flesh and blood would do such a thing. “Yes, he is. Because I’m gonna ask him to because you won’t do it.”

“Okay, just hold on a second.” Sam stopped the man from jumping to the worst outcome. Dean snapped at his little brother. He could only see of himself as a monster. And not the perfect tool they could use against the enemy. “We can figure this out! Maybe we should call Y/N and have her come over. See if she knows anything.”

“Are you stupid? No! The less people we get involved, the better.” Dean felt himself suddenly become overcome with anxiety at the thought of you coming here. The man was having trouble enough trying to get himself to remain calm around his brother. The thought of feeding off Sam was a turn off enough to keep himself in place. But he wouldn't know what he would do if you were around. What you would smell like to him. Dean tore himself away from his thoughts when he observed his brother for a moment. He listened to the man's heartbeat. The idea of losing him, or even putting himself in danger like this, didn’t make the rhythm change. "Why aren't you freaked out?"

Sam looked at the man with a baffled expression, “Of course I am!”

“Really?” Dean stared at his brother with suspicion now. The man’s facial movements began to change ever so slightly, to the way how Sam should be reacting to this. “Cause I can hear your heartbeat. And it’s pretty damn steady.”

“That’s because I’m trying to remain calm.” Sam explained himself. But his brother knew that he was lying straight through his teeth. So, the younger Winchester tried a little harder this time to make it more of a believable lie by shifting the conversation to another topic. Making Dean think that he actually cared about getting him back to a human. “Dean look, we really should call Y/N. Her and Samuel will know what to do.”

“Come on, man, I’m a monster. Okay? This is not a problem you spitball.” Dean said, shooting down the idea of dragging more people into this situation. than there needed to be. All Dean needed was his grandfather to be the one who would take the machete and chop his head clean off. “We gotta deal with this before I hurt somebody.”

The room fell into an awkward pause as Dean found himself wandering over to the windows with the curtains tightly shut, blocking out any sort of light that might bother him. But the noise coming from down below made him groan from the pain. He sniffled different smells of garbage, food, people's scents...and that mouthwatering, iron rich taste. Dean could deny it all he wanted. But he couldn’t control himself much longer before he went mad for a taste of blood.

“How’s it feel?” Sam’s question made his brother look at him with an annoyed glare.

“Now?” Dean asked. The man sure had impeccable timing to pick the exact moment of sharing a heartfelt moment in his last hours of life. “Now you wanna talk about my feelings?”

“No,” Sam corrected himself. “I mean physically.”

“How do you think it feels? Not good.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath. He brushed his hand across his mouth from the stressful situation he was dealing with right now. Only did then he realize the blood the vampire had force fed him was still smeared all over his mouth. He began walking to the bathroom to wash it off his face. His brother took his sudden movements as some sort of sign that he was about to bust out of the motel room when Sam asked where he was going. "Bathroom, okay? News flash, Mr. Wizard. Vampires pee!"

Dean slammed the door behind him, giving him a bit of privacy away from the world and his very strange brother. He headed for the sink and turned on the water. He cupped a small amount of the water and splashed it on his face, rubbing away the blood and waking himself up when the cold temperature sent a shiver down his spine, giving him some shock to get himself feeling a bit control again. Dean let out a heavy sigh and looked at himself in the mirror. The reflection in the mirror wasn't in control. He looked horrible. Dean lifted his upper lip with his index finger to see it was beginning. One fang began to reveal itself in his gums. He could feel his stomach drop in realization there was no stopping this. He was a dead man past tonight.

The older Winchester knew it was better to go out in style than turn into the monster he was supposed to hunt. But he couldn't call it quits just yet. He had people that cared for him, people that he wanted to say goodbye to. He owed them that. Dean thought about it before he reached out to turn on the water again, this time, to run for noise cancellation. He'd be back. But he needed to visit a few important people to him first.

+ + +

You made it back to the motel without much difficulties of people stopping and staring at you. You cut through a few alleyways and entered into the fire exit without anyone catching you. Before you changed out of your blood soaked clothes, you checked your phone to see if either Sam or Dean had left a message to see how things went. But you had no texts, no missed calls. You let out a frustrated sigh and threw the phone to the bed without much of a thought, it landed next to the copy of "My Summer Blood" you stolen from Kristen, the missing girl you were supposed to be looking for. But it was getting late and you were in need of a shower.

You stripped off your clothes and kept them in a pile in the corner of what you could salvage and others that needed to be burned. You treated yourself to a hot shower, scrubbing away whatever sort of blood that remained and dosing yourself in fresher scents. You emerged a few minutes later and dressed in some night clothes that consisted of an an oversized shirt you found buried in your bag. It was Dean’s old one that he lended you what felt like a lifetime ago. You should ask him if he wanted it back. Now that you weren’t a couple anymore. You checked your phone yet again to see that almost a half an hour since arriving back nobody had the decency to see how things were going. At 11:11 p.m. tonight, you were calling it quits.

You made sure all the doors were locked and the windows were shut, except for one. You knew it was a bit of a risky move with a nest full of vampires still out there and one of them dead. Your scent was all over the bar, too. But if you and the boys did your jobs right, a vampire was dead, which mean it’d be a hot minute before one of them found out who you were. And your room felt awfully stuffy. You needed some fresh air before you would lock it up for safety.

You dropped yourself onto the bed with the phone at your side and cracked open the book to the very first page, curious to see what the hype was all about. You made it through a handful of chapters until you found yourself falling into a light slumber. The book slipped out from your grip and fell to the ground, landing face first with the cover illuminated by the dull fluorescent lights.

+ + +

Dean Winchester has done a lot of stupid things in his life. He went to visit the woman who had opened up her door to him, put her entire trust in him—even went as far as thinking he could be someone her son could look up to. But he went to them to say goodbye. And left there knowing it was the biggest mistake he could have done. Dean kept rethinking about how he pushed Ben so hard against the wall, wanting him to be safe from the monster that he was becoming. He knew he left there with them hating his guts, scared out of their minds from what was going on. Maybe it was better that way. It wouldn’t hurt when the news reached them, whenever it did.

Saying goodbye to Lisa was important. She’d been the woman who had help put his life back together after the tragedy he lost. But she wasn’t the first people he thought of when he realized he was about to die. Much as time passed on, he couldn't get himself to shake the feeling. Perhaps it was because you were his first love, one of the only people he felt completely safe to be vulnerable around. The only person who saw him for who he really was. He couldn’t just call it quits without saying goodbye to you. You were his best friend. Each of you had saw each other at your worst. You might be one of the only people who would still love him, no matter who he turned into. Or what he might do.

Dean was worried about your safety if you had come over to the motel to try and figure out a situation that was only going to end one way. He was stupid for what he had done. He should have called you on the phone, explained everything, told you that he was sorry—that he loved you. And be the end of it. But things don’t always go according to plan. One thing lead to another, and he found himself standing in the corner of your motel room.

Your scent was all around the room, it wrapped tightly around his throat and squeezed, making it harder to concentrate on anything else. All of a sudden it was like his mind focus on that. And how familiar it felt to him. It brought him back to times you sat dangerously close to him as you told him about something. Or the nights the both of you shared beds. Your body wash that you used with every shower made him go crazy. Paired with the other things he could pick up, Dean knew it’d be impossible to last this long. The cocktail was better than anything he had come across with his new abilities. It made him feel safe. Like a starving animal with a little prey dangling in his face. So naive about what was going on, you’d never see it coming.

You shifted slightly in bed when a passing siren echoed in the room, making you come back into slight consciousness after you rose from your slumber. Your vision was a bit blurry when you rolled over to your stomach and reached for your phone that had slipped under your pillow. You rubbed your eyes, not knowing there was someone watching your every move, until you could see things with clear vision. That's when a sense of panic rushed into you.

He heard your heartbeat begin to pound fast and hard in your chest when you realized a possible threat. He was now staring down the barrel of a loaded gun you kept underneath your bed. You face now turned into a hard and cold glare, showing the intruder that had been watching you from the corner of your room that you weren’t easy prey. However, when you got a good look at the familiar face, you could feel your facial expression change in confusion.

“Dean? What the hell?” You questioned the man standing in the shadows of your room, looking more like an intruder than your friend. You let out a sigh of relief as your heartbeat began to ever so slowly calm down. You put the gun down to the nightstand and rubbed your hands over your face, getting the last bit of worry out of your body. “You scared me half to death. Thanks for creeping up on me like that.”

"Sorry." Dean mumbled an apology. You watched as he squinted his eyes when he looked in your direction, not realizing the lamp on your nightstand you left on was bothering him. "There's a reason why I'm here. I wanted to see you."

Those five words could mean anything for a hunter. Your mind went first at something happened to Sam. You could feel your heart suddenly beat faster in your chest from fear. “Couldn’t you have at least called me first? It’s one in the morning, Dean.” You said. You looked over at the clock on the nightstand to see that it was exactly 1:15 A.M., two hours of lost time while you were sleeping. You looked to see that Dean was approaching your bed with absolute caution. It made you feel even more nervous. “Or—there’s new thing called knocking. You might want to try it some time.”

“I tried. You didn’t answer.” Dean lied straight through his teeth. He wasn’t going to tell you that he snuck his way in here by climbing up the fire escape and slipping inside your open window, only to spend at least a half an hour watching you peacefully sleeping. That’d be creepy. The closer he got to your bed, the stronger your scent became. He gathered all of his self control not to do something he would regret. More than hurting Ben. You stared at him with concern now, knowing well enough something was going on here. “Listen…”

“What’s wrong?” You asked him with sudden urgentness. “Are you okay? Is Sam okay?”

"Sam's fine, relax." Dean reassured you, taking in a deep breath himself to calm down when he heard your heart beat faster again at the thought of Sam getting hurt. You moved slightly closer, making the invisible grip around his throat tighten even more. To the point where it felt hard for him to even speak. "I need you to know something, Y/N.”

You furrowed your brow as you looked at him with confusion, unsure of the direction of where this conversation was going. “Are you okay?”

"Not really." Dean muttered underneath his breath, his lips twitching into a slightly grim smile. He cleared his throat as he turned his head slightly to look at you. "I need you to know that you're one of the best things that ever happened to me. Just, uh...thanks. Okay? For everything."

“What the hell is going on?" You questioned him with a harder tone, coming off more abrasive than Lisa had been. You knew him better than the back of your hand. Something was up when he got this way, confessing emotions that he only showed when the worst scenario was playing out. Of course it only lasted for so long. You felt yourself becoming overcome with fear from what was going on. You slipped out from the covers and crawled over to him. You sat right down on your ankles and scooted yourself closer so you were right next to him, leaving no space between the both of you. Dean could hear your heartbeat race a little faster. “Dean, you’re starting to scare me.”

You weren't the only one. Dean couldn't deny himself anymore, the situation was more torturous than anything he ever could imagine. His eyes wandered up from the ground and to you. He swallowed slightly when he noticed that you weren’t wearing much to leave to the imagination. But he didn’t need that to remember what you looked liked. Everything about you—from the smell, to how you were right now—was making him lose control. He clenched his jaw and pushed himself up to his feet before you could rest your hand on his shoulder in comfort. Dean was trying his hardest to ignore his new urges. You furrowed your brow in surprise as he suddenly backed away, putting a distance between the both of you, hoping it would work.

“Oh, God.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath. He remembered about how the one passage from the book he read, how that stupid vampire snuck himself into the main character’s room and watched her sleep. How he whined about the struggle to keep his impulses under control. How their love was impossible, despite wanting to be with her. “I’m Pattinson.”

“What did you say?” You asked, hearing him mutter something to himself.

“Nothing, Y/N. I…” Dean quickly turned around to face you. “I gotta go.”

“No, no, no.” You pushed yourself up from the bed and walked over to him, wanting to get a few things straightened out before he even dared to step out the door. You were now angry all over again. “You can’t just show up here like this and—”

“Believe me.” Dean said. He suddenly appeared like he did back when you and the boys were dealing with the apocalypse matter. Out of his mind, on the edge and ready to do something you knew meant something you would hate him for. “I wish I was here on different reasons.”

“Just stop! Shut up for five seconds, okay? You're jumping all over the place, Dean." You said. You placed your hands on your head to run your fingers in your hair, not realizing the shirt you were wearing rode up ever so slightly more. "You're really scaring me. Explain to me what the hell is going on here."

"I thought I had it all under control. But I can't do this." Dean admitted what had been bothering him. It meant so much more than just his feelings. Your face changed slightly from what you heard him say next. “Not when you're around.”

“Are you drunk? Oh God, you’re drunk.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head, thinking his behavior was caused by him having a few too many beers at the Black Rose. Something happened tonight and he decided to break all his morals for some liquid confidence to wash away the pain. Dean said that he wasn’t. You scoffed and the bed to grab your phone. You started to punch in the younger Winchester’s number so he could handle this situation and put Dean to bed to work off the alcohol. “I’m calling Sam. You clearly are drunk out of your head. You can’t show up here like this and—”

"I'm not drunk, Y/N." Dean snatched the phone out of your hands, taking you by surprise. He felt himself drowning in guilt from how you were staring at him now. He let out a sigh and tossed the phone to the bed for safekeeping. “Something happened tonight, Y/N. Something bad. I wanted to see you.”

“What’s so bad that it couldn’t wait until morning?” You asked him. You placed your hands on your hips and tilted your head to the side, demanding some kind of answer from him. You rolled your eyes once more when he remained silent, forcing you to play the guessing game. “What? Lisa break up with you or something? Is that why you’re here?”

“No. Something happened tonight that made me realize I can't bring this kind of crap to her. It’s too dangerous." Dean admitted. You stared at him, wondering what happened tonight. Your mind went to a moment of panic, wondering if something happened to them. Dean shook his head, seeming to have guessed your first thought. You didn’t know Lisa that well. But from how she handled things, and how Dean had been so cautious over the past year, it seemed like their relationship could have worked. "It's ugly...it's violent...she doesn't understand my life. Not like how you do."

You opened your mouth to say something about how he was being dramatic here. But when you began to digest the words, the meaning behind them, you looked at him differently this time. You stared at the man in front of you to see that he appeared miserable, in pain from what was going on here. Your lips twitched into a slight smile, but it was forced, like you were trying to keep the anger boiling in your body from going over the edge from what he was doing to you.

“If you thought coming here tonight was to tell me you want me back, let me help you. The answer is no." You said, taking this conversation to a whole other level. Neither you or him discussed the outcome of your relationship. It was always a silent agreement that you were just best friends and hunting partners. But you thought Dean was holding onto the corrupt past. "I'm not gonna be here whenever something doesn't work out for you. What we had before is gone. I mean, it was fun. But I spent that year away to get over you. And I am. Just...let me say this to make things perfectly clear. I don't love you anymore."

Dean could heart your heartbeat spike up when you said those five words as your breathing shortened slightly. He remembered once reading somewhere that a way to tell someone was lying was by the rhythm of their heartbeat. It spiked when they were lying. Or you were getting emotional at saying such harsh words to him. Either way, he didn’t have much time left in this world to figure out what you meant by it. And he had a feeling, no matter the answer, it would leave him in pain. Sometimes it was better not to know what people really thought of you if they couldn’t give the same feelings back.

“I’m gonna die, Y/N.” Dean spoke his own set of harsh words, taking you by complete and utter surprise. And just like that, your mind suddenly changed. Your facial expression changed into panic from what you heard him say. “Soon. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to say goodbye.”

"What?" Your voice grew quiet as a church mouse. All the color drained from your face, and just like that, you were suddenly regretting what you said before. You examined him for a few seconds, trying to figure out any sort of signs to figure out what was wrong with him. You could see that he was nervous himself. But stressed out of his mind. You approached him slowly. "I mean, I still do love you. You are my best friend. Always have and always will be. You’re not gonna die, Dean. You can tell me what's wrong."

Dean knew that you would understand. He could simply say that he was turning into a vampire and he came here to say goodbye. But the thought was thrown straight out the window when you did something stupid. You placed your hands on his shoulders and gave them a squeeze in support. Little did you realize that it was the worst mistake that you could have done. Dean tried his hardest to control himself for long as he possibly could. He stared at you, trying to somehow focus on something other than your heartbeat that was pounding in his ears like a drum. Or how your smell was the only thing that he could think about anymore. God, he wanted it.

Without a single warning, you felt yourself being turned around and slammed against the wall, a little rougher than you had expected. Your heart rate suddenly began to pound faster when you realized where you had ended up. Dean had his hands on your shoulders now, trapping you in a position that neither one of you had been in a long time. Your eyes widened slightly as the man holding you was now staring at you with an intense gaze. You watch as he began to move forward, making you wonder what's about to happen. You don't know what was going on, or why you were letting this happen. But you could feel yourself shutting your eyes when you saw his mouth moving towards yours, the temptation was too much.

Dean wanted to do it. He wanted to kiss you and share a moment that felt like a million years ago, touch your body. But that’s not really what his mind was going for. Ever so slowly, his new urges, the ones that he'd been trying to control, were now taking over his movements. He was so close now. He didn't realize he was lowering his mouth to the crook of your neck before he caught himself. It’d be only a matter of time until the monster in him came out. He managed to pull himself away before he did something that’d he regret for the rest of his life. In the process of saving your life, you caught him in his new form.

"Oh my God." Your first response was in complete and utter horror at what you saw standing in front of you. Your eyes widened when you saw Dean's teeth had changed into a set of fangs, the kind you'd seen earlier in the night when that vampire nearly tried to kill you. It all made sense now of what he was doing here. He had accidentally been turned into a vampire. And he’d been seconds away from ripping your throat out and drinking your blood.

Your natural instinct was to grab the machete you had kept by your beside, for emergencies. But you took a second to actually stare at Dean, wondering if he’d fed. But from the strung out look on his face, he wanted to, yet refrained himself. A sense of relief washed over you from the knowledge you’d heard about from a conversation you had with Sam and his grandfather. There was a way to get out of this situation. You opened your mouth to tell him that everything was going to be okay. Before you could get a single word out of your mouth, he disappeared from your sight. You clenched your fist and slammed it against the wall, rolling your eyes from how dramatic men could be.

[Next Part]

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theclydesdalerussian · 7 years ago

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The bae over at @theprixrity wanted not one, but ALL the headcanon questions about Russian Mama. So here, I present to you:

Manya Volkov: in Grave Detail

What does their bedroom look like?

Her room is rather plain. When she was given a home in Alexandria she honestly had no clue what to do with it, all she knew was she hated American Suburbia. So, she made it her own the best she could, the collections of animal skulls and all the windows open for Vladik to poke his head through. As for her bedroom she refuses to wash the bed sheets. More animal skulls and her weapons lying around.

Do they have any daily rituals?

Manya wakes up as soon as the sun does out of habit of being outside. When she was outside she would pack up her things and travel, maybe stop by a pond or stream and get a drink of water or hunt for fish. Travel mostly, till the sun starts to go down to which she settles. Makes a small fire, maybe cooks her fresh kill and rest, roughly 9 at night. Now in Alexandria however it’s slightly different. She still gets up early(unless she has certain company over *cough* then she can sleep a little longer), Brushing her teeth is important...maybe a shower if she can not simply stand herself. Go downstairs, make some coffee, then go outside to spend time with Vladik or go for a run. Then she stays in the home she was provided, read her worn down book after a meal. Then sleeps, again right at 9...again unless she has company that wants to annoy her.

Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

In this New World, limited food and getting away from walkers can be quite the weight loss program. She was never one to gain weight anyhow, but having the hot Southern sun beat on you every day can take it’s toll.

What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

Rarely a problem, a simple fire outside always did the trick with her. She had to do it in her travels...so going back to her feral roots is a breeze if not preferred.

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

Despite her rather rough exterior she does keep her rest home rather tidy. A sweep of the floor or a wash of some dishes. No big deal.

Eating habits and sample daily menu

Again, with the New World comes a new eating habit. Survival ran through her veins, so hunting for woodland creatures with some pecans or berries always kept her from starvation. In fact, when she first started traveling she in fact went to some abandoned places and grabbed some canned foods. This is still true for her settlement in the safe zone. Eating normal food is odd for her now, while still enjoyable. Though one could see she lost some table manners as she eats with a animal edge to her.

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

Manya is not one to waste time, she is either traveling somewhere or hunting something. But, she has learned to take a step back and enjoy some things...only to quickly go back to the task at hand.

Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Manya never thought it was possible to indulge in things again. However, she does have her book and the Walkman she found to remind her she was still alive and in the present. As more things are presented to her, she took up cross stitching from one of the older women in Alexandria.

Makeup?

None, she never wore make up before the Apocalypse and she sure as shit doesn’t wear it now.

Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

One could argue that Manya suffers from PTSD due to her environment. Having to worry about her and her family’s safety from The Russian Mob where she had to use a gun at a young age. Experiencing the hysteria and panic when Walkers started forming, the feeling of being the only person on earth only to find people that either wanted to take advantage of her or kill her. She however does not think so, she adapts and survives...that’s how it’s always been. Not being able to trust people is their problem.

Intellectual pursuits?

Manya was in college studying law, she was always someone that sought knowledge. A Documentary enthusiast as well as books was a big stimulation for her.

Favorite book genre?

Manya likes all kinds of books, her favorite...and one she carries around is actually a Russian print of Animal Farm. Which, of course would explain her need to nick name people after animals.

Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?

Manya is in fact bisexual, while homosexuality is actually frowned upon in her country Manya never felt the need to come out to anyone. She is attracted to both men and women, and love them both equally. She did feel, in the New World and in America in general the feeling she could be much more free to express these feelings if those said feelings did arise.

Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)

Manya suffered an injury on her back when she was very young. Long story short she tried to climb under a rusty fence and got severely scratched. She also wears some scaring from her travels but never feels the need to hide them.

Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Biggest short term goal is to find out about her family, the idea of their death is very real to her. But as long as they didn’t suffer then she could live with that. The smallest one, at the time, was to go to New York. Or somewhere out of the South...course that never happened.

Biggest and smallest long term goal?

Now living in Alexandira Manya’s goals have changed. She still wants to know about her family yes, but now keeping the people inside those walls safe became her top goal. She also wants to be able to be normal for once, maybe not the normal she once knew...but normal enough for the new world.

Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

Manya’s style of choice is simple. Boots, jeans, a shirt or tank top, and a flannel shirt. In the winter time she made herself a fur blanket out of deer. Underneath the clothes however she dawns Victoria’s Secret, it was a thing from the American girls she worked with in Sea World and it was all she had. All her clothes were things she found to fit. She’s comfortable in them, and aims to stick to it.

Favorite beverage?

Manya loves her booze, Vodka obviously though she took a love for the American whiskey and beer. But water is universal.

What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Her family mostly, the goal she sought to know about them. The people of Alexandria and what one or more may have done on that particular day. Is Vladik resting okay? Jesus this big redneck snores like a bear.

Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

The typical chicken pox, she remembered she wanted to scratch so badly. It got so bad her mother had to stuff her underneath her covers to basically sweat it off and not scratch.

Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

Turn Ons: Bravery, No Bullshit, Southern American Culture Turn Offs: Liars, Bullshitters, Loud Mouths

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

Probably draw some shapes and such. Write some lyrics that she likes.

How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

She likes organization, not in a compulsive way but more along the lines of something appealing to the eye. It has to have a flow in her mind.

Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

She knows some things about justice and law as well as obscure facts no one really cares about. She also picked up some knowledge in being in the woods, the different plants and wildlife.

How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Still alive? That’s a big deal. That annoying Negan person destroyed for good.

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

Not really, Manya pretty much lives for today since tomorrow is never promised. She still plans to know what happened with her family, and while settling in some safe zone with a redneck was not in the cards...she seems to be handling it okay.

What is their biggest regret?

Not being able to get home sooner, even though she knew she wouldn’t have stood a chance in getting there. She wished she could hug her family longer, tell them how much she loved them. Especially her father...she misses him the most.

Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

She calls Michonne “Sister”, she also developed a friendship with Jesus. But Vladik has, and will always be her companion. Enemies however...that Foghorn Leghorn, loud mouth Negan is on up there. And that rat looking Dwight...his death would be slow as far as she is concerned.

Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

During the hysteria of Walkers Manya was such in a panic she ran to a hiding place and stayed low until it was dead quiet. Now, if something happens she is right there on the front line. Fighting tooth and nail for the safety of others.

Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)

Having someone close to her is dangerous for her well being. For if they died she loses it. For example, when she had to see Daryl be dragged to the van to head to The Sanctuary Manya screamed out, having to have two people hold her back. She was even told her scream was terrifying, she sounded like an dying animal. It happened again, seeing him in that sweater outfit...how she couldn’t talk to him. That she was not able to say goodbye to him, she had to leave. She walked toward the nearest tree and just destroyed it with her machete. All the while screaming to the top of her lungs. Needless to say if anyone killed someone she loved in front of her they will rule the day they ever do.

Most prized possession?

While she considers him more of a companion then a possession, Vladik her horse is something she hold the most dear.

Thoughts on material possessions in general?

If you have it, cherish it. That’s her way of thinking. Don’t flaunt it around, everyone had lost so much so whatever you do have you better enjoy it.

Concept of home and family?

Home and family is important to her. Her father taught her without family you have nothing. At the time her home and family was Vladik and the woods, but after much resistance she calls Alexandria and the people in her new home and family. One she is deeply protective of.

Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)

Manya is a deeply private person. Her distrust in people make her a hard shell to crack. But, if she feels she could trust you she slowly opens and confides in you.

What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

She does like shooting Walkers, yes they are dangerous but Manya finds them very dumb.

What makes them feel guilty?

Not being able to save people she swore to protect. If anyone gets hurt or kidnapped under her watch she feels deeply responsible.

Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?

She keeps a pretty level head in decision making. She analyzes everything to the very detail.

Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?

She is a Type A trying to learn to be Type B

What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?

Cigarettes, give the girl some cancer sticks!

Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

Neither, she is a happy middle.

How misanthropic are they?

Roughly an 7 or 8. She makes some exceptions.

Hobbies?

Walker killing, hunting, cross stitching, busting a redneck’s balls

How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?

She attended Pushkin Leningrad State University and was in her second to third year before she went to America under the J1 Program. She finds education important, but more along the lines of common sense.

Religion?

Manya is deeply atheist. She hated the Church when she was in Russia and she sure as shit does not believe in God more so now.

Superstitions or views on the occult?

Manya does not believe in such things. However she does appreciate the teachings of the occult when it comes to nature. In fact she collected and wore a deer skull in her travels because she knew how easily freaked out people could be.

Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

More along deeds first and words later.

If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

Manya responds to people who are kind, to have the heart of a lion as they say. Someone who sees her as a equal, not some frigid thing. But apparently she has a thing for rednecks which is actually hilarious considering how low she used to think of them.

How do they express love?

Manya has a hard time expressing feelings. In fact she would deny it, even get very pissed about it. But what she does not realize is she sort of makes it obvious, she may laugh and cover her mouth(a sign of shyness). She may become softer, less of a ice queen. Even if it comes to words she does not say it right away. She may say something like “You’ve gotten under my skin and it’s pissing me off”, which means “I’ve fallen in love with you and I don’t know how to deal with that.”

If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

Being sort of on the short side jumping on someone’s back and putting them in a choke hold seems to be the go to if weapons are off the table. A choke hold and bashing their head in.

Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

No, in fact she would die as long as someone stays alive. Tomorrow is never given, if it’s her time to die it’s her time to die. She accepted it a long time ago.

#☢ГȔƧƧȈÅȠ ĻÅƜ → ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃᶰᵒᶰ

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annalysapostmaria-blog · 7 years ago

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The Aftermath...

The sky was grey and sad. We first checked the bedrooms and were so thankful the windows held! We spent the early morning mopping and trying to to soak up the pools of water around the house. Outside, leftover rain and wind blew in every so often keeping us cautious of flying debris. Our first time scoping around our house was spent pointing and shrieking at everything in disarray. The beautiful jungle surrounding us was nothing more than skeletons of broken branches. We could see neighboring houses we never knew existed! They once lay hidden deep in the jungle but now they're completely exposed! I watched Javi walk up the driveway at the tallest part of our mountain to get the full 360 view of our area. He couldn't hold back tears looking out at the blankness and worrying about the people that were suffering tremendously.

Our solid concrete house had minimal damage. My curiosity couldn't help but take me right downstairs to inspect the mysterious noise that shook the house so violently the night before. The first thing I saw made my eyes go big and I shouted to Javi to check it out with me! "Is that a wall and window laying in our yard!?" It sure was. The downstairs consisted of a wooden room built with a door and windows that was occupied by the landlord to store belongings he wasn't ready to part with as well as a tin shed for all his old tools, paint, etc. Neither was there anymore and it was completely unrecognizable! Every wooden wall was scattered in the yard a good distance from where the room had been before! The only thing left in the room was the floor! Our dryer and propane tank were both laying on their sides and melting in the mud but luckily they had a piece of tin roof from the demolished shed wedged on top protecting them. Javi's tools and yard equipment he had tied down earlier were safe! Hallelujah! The yard and downstairs would be a lot of work but we were grateful nonetheless.

Holding hands we walked up our drive way to assess the roads. We made it to the entrance gate and stopped. From there on it was a wall of trees, light posts, and telephone poles laying horizontal, completely blocking anything from driving in or out. "Well, we aren't going anywhere for a while." It was vital we check on our friendly neighbors. An older couple who we called "the welcoming committee" because every time they catch us coming or leaving home we are welcomed or dismissed with huge waves and smiles. Battling through huge trunks, wires, and debris we finally made it to their house. The couple was on their front porch as we'd always seen them before. You could see in their eyes they were shocked we made it through the never ending roadblock in between both our homes. Don, the husband, yelled "group hug!" Instantly the four of us embraced which felt wonderful! He reminds me of my Pop Pop. A tall, lanky, island man with ripped jean shorts and white scruffy face. We traded stories of the storm and they agreed how it felt as if it would never end.

We continued down the road to check on more neighbors. As we walked we saw houses without roofs still creaking and dripping water from the last remnants of wind and rain. Every house had scars of torn paint from the blasting winds. We arrived to the main road which takes you down the mountain and into our little town. Just like our driveway, it was a web of thick heavy wires, trees, and shattered glass from fallen street lamps. The adorable little Puerto Rican women were outside with brooms sweeping up leaves to the side of the road to rid any chance of mosquito nesting grounds. The men were all yelling and laughing in the road. With chainsaws, machetes, and axes everyone was doing their part to help clear the road.

Javi and I jumped in picking up branches and dragging them to the side. As we were working a truck driving from further up the mountain stopped where he could no longer drive due to the massive trees fallen in the road. A group of men and women spilled out of the truck and jumped out to help. We realized that they were driving down the curvy mountain road stopping and helping clear a path along the way. This happened several more times with other cars. Everyone working together to help create an escape. When heavy rain started again I left Javi on the road working while I went back to work on the house. Javi walked in the door around 7pm and told me him and our neighbor farmer had cleared the path in our drive way. I didn't believe him because all they had were machetes and axes. I still don't understand how they were able to cut through so many large trees with rusty dull tools but they were determined! I was astounded.

With phone service still out we planned to check on his parents in Mayagüez the next day. With a full tank of gas we were excited to get out of the house and explore the island. The road had been cleared all the way down the mountain. Still having to dodge heavy fallen street lines, transformers and trees. The destruction was horrifying. Wooden houses with tin roofs were now piles of rubble. Plantain farmers with fields of crops blown away to nothing. Floods filled the highway and gas lines were already building up for miles. Some parts on the 2 (our main highway that circles the entire island) were narrowed to one lane due to fallen posts, trees and floods. What used to be thick jungle starting from the highway shoulder was now stripped to its bone and you could see back for miles.

When we got to his parents house there was a big sigh of relief. It reminds me so much of my family home I grew up in in Florida. I always have a sense of comfort being there. We walked in the front door and I could hear Javi’s mom questioning "Who could be here?" When she saw Javi she screamed, leaped into her son’s arms, and held him tightly. Javi, adjusting to her height, held her back and we all let out tears of joy. Mama Zulma told us if we hadn't shown up by that day she had someone who was going to check on us up in the mountains of Rincón. His parents made it through the storm okay with minimal damage to their house. Papa Fernando turned up the weather radio while Mama Zulma made us coffee on a gas stove. Her kitchen floor bubbled and popped as she stepped caused by minor flooding through their kitchen window. They hadn't been out of the house since the storm so we decided to take them on a drive around Mayagüez to check the damage.

We spotted 18 wheelers and shipping containers flipped over like hot wheels on the roads. A shopping center’s roof now on the other side of the highway. We went to check the beach of Mayagüez and that was by far the worst. The ocean had swallowed the coast line, sucking back everything it engulfed. Tops of cars stuck out of the ocean behind the crashing waves. Being only 2 days after the hurricane, we witnessed people coming back to their homes for the first time to find they had lost everything. One woman lost her whole house when the road collapsed making the concrete structure crumble. The police wouldn't let her inside her own home because it was so unsafe. Across the street another family told us they had 4 feet of water inside their house ruining all of their belongings. Our hearts hurt for these people. It was a very emotional day.

Mama Zulma sent us off with food and supplies as she always did even before the storm. I gave her my family's phone number in case she was able to get phone service before us to let them know we were safe. Javi and I planned to be back in 2 days to check on them again. At home we still had a nice set up. Plenty of canned food, 2 burner Camping stove, even ice in a cooler! Outside we started piling up rubble but to this day we haven't made a dent in the clean up downstairs. The water took some time to dry up with no sun to help it evaporate. I prayed for no rain for the sake of the people without roofs. The days were slow and long and I worried about my family. Hoping they gave us the benefit of the doubt we were safe. To me, that's been one of the hardest parts of this whole mess. Not having service to contact friends and family. If you were in a absolute dire situation you can't get a word out for help and that scared us.

We made it back to Mayagüez on time as promised. Mama Zulma told me a neighbor/family friend had a land line that was working by the miracles of God! She drove me over right away seeing the impatient look on my face to talk to family. I tried my mom but no answer. My dad, no answer. I was loosing patience when I finally made it through to my cousin/big sister, Katie. Katie and I grew up together in Florida. Pretending to chase storms and tornadoes since we were little girls. We joked this is what we had been training for our whole lives. Hearing her voice is one of the greatest feelings I've ever had in my whole life. She gave me such a sense of calm and peace. She filled me in on Maria's path (we were still clueless on what had happened) and how it shifted west closer to us as a category 3 like we had assumed. There was so much I had to say but with others waiting to use the phone the call was quick.

#puerto rico #rincon #hurricane maria #prstrong #rinconstrong

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