#but later they do it on purpose just so Gordon can carry them

[anime-lover-mooncake]

One more for now. A little mini comic!

Lenard continuously loses their cane. Whether on purpose or by accident, Gordon will never know.

(It's 100% on purpose.)

[blackkatmagic]

BRUCE/KIT?? HELLO 991 YES ID LIKE TO REPORT AN ATTACK BC I JUST ABOUT TRIPPED WHILE READING THIS AND ALMOST KILLED MYSELF

THATS SO UNIVERSE BRAIN KAT WE DO NOT DESERVE YOU

:}

“Did you know,” Kit says, “that you have sharks in here?”

The boy on the dock startles with a yelp, almost overbalancing from his perch on top of a crate. With admirable grace, he manages to catch himself, then scramble back up before he turns, wide-eyed, to stare at Kit like he’s never seen a Nautolan before.

Well, Kit admits. He probably hasn’t. This planet is most definitely very deep in the Unknown Territories, and the odds of Nautolans besides Kit making it this far are slim. But just yesterday Kit ran into a man calling himself Killer Croc, and surely he doesn’t look all that much stranger.

“Who are you?” the boy blurts.

Kit cocks his head, amused by the bristling. “My name is Kit,” he offers, and raises one webbed hand, wiggling his fingers. He did actually decide to come close for a reason, though, and he offers, “There are several dozen sharks in the harbor right now, all fitted with some kind of control collar.” Deciding that coming any closer is probably a bad idea, he tosses the collar he was able to wrestle off one of the sharks up onto the dock at the base of the crate. “It seems like a public safety risk, letting them—”

“Robin!” a voice cries, loud and alarmed, and Kit catches the flicker of warning in the Force half a second before something slices across the surface of the water. He dives instantly, and the thing misses the top of his tentacles by a hair, thudding into the post holding up the dock with sharp edges. Kit eyes it, then the surface, and ducks back under the boards. He surfaces silently, just as the person who yelled lands with a thump.

“Jay, you okay?” the young man asks, worry as bright as a beacon. “That thing it threw—”

Kit rolls his eyes. It indeed.

“He was saying something about sharks in the bay,” Robin says, and there's a light thump as he drops onto the boards above Kit's head. “And control collars.”

There's a pause. “He put sharks in the bay?”

“Not him,” a new voice says, and Kit glances up as another mind joins the two younger ones. Human, he thinks, though most people here seem to be. Focused, and calculating, and wary, but with a touch of something desperately bright underneath, like a light against the dark clouds.  “Joker.”

“Batman!” the older boy says, relief in his voice. “Is there a way to get them—”

“Aquaman is on his way,” Batman says. “Nightwing, grab the collar. There might be a way to turn the signal off before anyone gets eaten.”

Kit tips his head, considering. The sharks here aren’t intelligent enough for him to speak mind-to-mind with them, but…he can likely follow them easily, from the land or from the water. And it sounds like the person controlling them is doing it for nefarious purposes, like he’d thought. Kit should likely put a stop to that.

“What about the sea monster guy?” Robin asks, and Kit can practically see him wrinkling his nose. “He told us about the sharks. Is he just trying to screw with the Joker?”

“Probably,” Batman says grimly. “We’ll focus on the Joker and then look into him. Robin, with me. Nightwing—”

“I'm going, I'm going,” Nightwing says lightly, and there's a huff, then three running steps and a leap. From beneath the dock, Kit watches his long, twisting leap carry him to the next pier over, and it makes him smile just a little. Very Jedi-like, he thinks, and ignores the ache it brings. He rests a hand against the soaked wood, tipping his head up, and just catches the edge of a long, dak cloak sliding over the edge.

“Robin,” Batman says quietly. “You're okay?”

“Yeah, B,” Robin says, and Kit can feel his grin. “I got three of the Black Mask’s goons, too! They're tied up in that warehouse back there.”

“I’ll call Gordon,” Batman promises, humor threading his tone, and Kit can hear the creak of a gauntlet, the touch of leather on cloth. “Good work, Robin. Let’s go.”

Ah, Kit thinks, smiling to himself over the sound of feet moving away. So that’s how it is. Padawans don’t precisely translate beyond the Jedi, but—well. This is likely something close.

He gives it a moment to be sure they’ve left, then slips back down into the murky water, wrinkling his nose a little. The water here is very polluted, but—something to address later, after the sharks. Maybe the potentially Neti woman he saw railing against polluters on the shore the other day would be willing to help him.

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 8

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Wind~

It’s just a nice day in Gotham, like always.

Ao3

First< Previous > Next

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

“You know what?” Ladybug says to Chat as they both take shelter from the wind, “I really hate Gothams weather,”

“It’s fine Ladybug,” Chat jokes, daring to look around the building only to hide again with severely windswept hair, "Just don't go into hibernation,”

“I might just watch me,”

“You there!” they both look over to see an officer pointing a gun at them, “Leave! Let the pros handle this!”

“Excuse me! We are the pros!” Ladybug snaps despite their cowering behind a building from wind.

“But if you want to try take over your welcome to it!” Chat Noir yells, grabbing Ladybug and leaving their shelter before they got shot. They get thrown back into the wind, blown back a few steps. They hold onto each other working together to reach the Akuma hiding in a self-made tornado.

“Do you think someone was just as mad at the weather as I am!?” Ladybug yells over the wind, trying to throw her yo-yo only for it to get blown back in her face.

“Well, I have to say this is kind of a step-down!” Chat shouts, trying to poke his staff through the tornado getting jerked to the side, only saved by Ladybug catching him, “Stormy Weather could control all sorts of weather,”

“Yeah and almost started several global catastrophes!”Ladybug pulls him back down to the ground, both crouching down.

“Well, maybe we need some luck before there's another!”

“You got it,” Ladybug nods, gearing up to throw her yoyo, “Lucky charm!”

The lucky charm is immediately blown away.

“... Maybe we should have done that further away,” Chat muses.

“You think so?” Ladybug sighs, “Maybe the city road maintenance could use some bad luck?”

“Oh I get what you're putting down,” Chat grins, “Cata-”

“Help!” The look towards the cry, a couple of officers and their car getting pulled up to the sky.

“Looks like they took you up on your offer,” Ladybug deadpans, running over to them with a tailwind.

“I was trying to make a joke!” Chat Noir jumps up catching the two and getting carried off by the wind.

“Trying,” Ladybug throws her yoyo out wrapping it around Chat and pulling him and the officers down.

“Well how about we try making a new manhole?” Chat Noir places the officers on the ground, they duck down getting pressed to the road by the winds.

“That's all you Kitty!” Ladybug shelters the police long enough they can grab onto a lamp post.

“Cataclysm!” Chat Noir hits the ground, lowering the level of destruction to a smaller radius. He keeps it activated until the hole is big enough for them to drop down into. Ladybug sticks close to him as they tunnel under the tornado.

“Do we know where the Akuma is?”

“Why don’t you brainstorm?” Chat says with slight irritation, “Kinda trying to focus,”

“Sorry,” Ladybug cringes, keeping quiet for him.

“Here should be good,” Chat Noir says, turning to point his hand up and make their way back to the surface. They pop up in the eye of the tornado everything calm but wind gushing around them. Marinette throws out her yo-yo unimpeded catching the floating Akuma's legs and pulling them to the ground.

“YoU!” The Akuma lashes out at her with a fan, a slight flick, and Ladybug is blown back into the tornado.

“Chat! The fan!” Ladybug tries to pull herself back into the calm but the winds are too strong, she only prevents not being blown away by her yoyo still wrapped around the Akuma's legs.

“On it! Cataclysm repeat!” He calls on it again grabbing the fan and turning it to dust. The storm calms and Ladybug lands on her feet getting the leverage she needs to grab the butterfly and purify it.

“Bye bye little butterfly,”

“No to be the bearer of bad news,” Chat Noir half whispers to her, “But we're out of the pot and into the fire,”

Ladybug looks around to see the police starting to form a shaky barricade around them, it's easy enough to evade if the batclan wasn't blocking every viable exit.

“So police or Batman?”

“I honestly can’t deal with his high and mighty routine right now,” Ladybug sighs still chilled to the bone from the wind, “Police,”

She walks over with purpose to the man she had researched was the commissioner; Gordon. On her way she finds a spotted item lying on the side of the road. So that's where her lucky charm went. A fan, cute.

“Miraculous ladybug!” Ladybug stands before commissioner Gordon, whom she knew had to have dealings with Batman, he marvels at the repairing ladybugs until she gets his attention, “You want to talk sir?”

“You finally want to talk to me?” He asks instead, almost good naturally if tired like he was used to it. Definitely had dealings with Batman.

“If I wanted to hear get out of my city and leave this to me I would just record him,” Ladybug gets Chat to chuckle, not the commissioner but she can tell he wants to, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Your a hero unaffiliated with the Justice League or any government,” The commissioners lays out, “In other words, you're a vigilante and I don’t know if you can be trusted with Gotham's safety, Batmans been around for years he’s a vigilante but he does protect the city, so why are you here?”

“I understand your concerns sir, but unfortunately this isn’t a matter of borders or what city each hero protects, the villain hawkmoth can only be stopped by us or other miraculous users, so even if you dont approve we will continue to operate even if we have to fight the police along the way,” Ladybug says with all the confidence, hoping to also portray that she really dosent want to, “As for trust we operated in Paris for years, we have the trust to the citizens and officials, if you want a reference call the chief of police or the Mayor we have worked under the approval of both,”

“I will, thank you Ladybug,”

“No problem,” Her earring beeps, “Now if you’ll excuse us, bug out,”

They jump up, using their skills to reach the rooftops.

“Oh man I forgot about this guy,” Chat complains as Batman is right there when they land.

“Ladybug-”

“Yes leave the city, yes I’m not needed here, thank you I’ve heard it before,” Ladybug tries to just walk past him but Robin lands in her way, “You know we have to stop meeting like this, wouldn't you prefer a nice dinner date?”

Robin makes a choking sound which must be offended. Chat laughs, coming to lean on her shoulder.

“We’ve traded places bug-a-boo,”

“Heh,” She smirks at the old nickname, “bird-a-boo,”

Robin completely freezes, giving them the chance to run by, he doesn't even react, until she calls.

“Later bird-a-boo~”

It’s an interesting reaction.

---

“You seem distracted,” Marinette tells Damian, both working separately together in their study.

“I’M NOT!”

“Oh forgive me, clearly you are completely relaxed,” Marinette rolls her eyes, pinning a new design to the wall.

“Heh there must be a pretty girl in his life,” Adrien smirks from the seat he stole from her earlier.

“Why are you even here?!” Damian snaps, taking the papers Adrien was shifting through.

“You didn’t deny it~”

“Oh is there someone?” Marinette ignores the sick feeling for plastered cheerfulness, “Tell us about her,”

“It’s none of your business!” Damina snatches some more papers from the desk and storms out, blushing all the while.

“Don’t be embarrassed!” Marinette calls after him letting go of her gratefulness she didn’t have to hear about her, she says quieter, “I bet she’s super cool,”

“I’m noticing a pattern with you Marinette,” Adrien hums, her sketchbook now taking up his attention.

“Adrien I was madly in love with you for like a year and you didn’t realize so I highly doubt you can notice a thing,” Marinette takes her book from him, whacking him lightly with it.

“Right back at you bug,” Adrien tries to snatch it back from her only to get pushed back.

“Flirting doesn't count,” Marinette rolls her eyes, putting her book safely on the shelf, “No one can tell if you’re serious,”

“Is that so~” Adrien hums, “What about Robin?”

“I’m not flirting with him,” Marinette rolls her eyes, gathering up some fabric to start her next project.

“You so are ,” Adrien accuses, outraged.

“I am not!” She slams the fabric down on the desk and turns to him.

“So are,” Adrien smirks sinking back into the seat.

“I don’t even know him,” Marinette rolls her eyes again it's scary how much that's becoming second nature at this point.

“You could~”

“Adrien!”

--------

No tag list sorry, I’m horrible at keeping track of them :P

[joezworld]

Coughs and Sneezles

I am just living for the "Diesel Day" story that everyone's posting about right now.

1989

"I'm telling you, that's how it works!"

"Rubbish! You're pulling my buffer! This island has made you soft in the crank case!"

British Rail had sent a new diesel to the Island of Sodor for testing purposes. He was very strong - both in tractive effort and opinions, which had led to many disagreements between him and the other engines.

Delta, being the cheeky sort, had decided that the best course of action would be to play tricks on him, something which the other engines did not object to!

"Oh? Then how did I get here then?" She said seriously. "What's a big Peak like me doing in steam's last holdout, hmmm?"

She looked around conspiratorially. "It's because of the sneezles!"

"Sneezles."

"Yes! They have a saying here - Coughs and Sneezles Spread Diseasels - and as strange as it sounds, it's real!" She hissed conspiratorially.

The experimental diesel regarded her with a dumbfounded expression. "You've lost your mind! Coughs and Sneezles! What nonsense!"

"It's not nonsense!" She snapped. "There's a few of us on this Island and none of us know how we got here! I was in Derby one minute, and then the next, poof!, I was here!"

"There's something in the diesel fuel here." The other engine said seriously. "You need your filters changed."

"I'm serious! The steam engines - if they sneeze, it does something, and then we end up here! And it works over long distances! I got as far as London and then - achoo! - I was back here!"

"They can... magic you across the country... by sneezing."

"Yes! And it's not just that! The engines who bring us here - they can change us! I was Blue when I got here - so was Bear! Then one time we tried to get out of here; James and Henry sneezed us back and when they did - we turned their colours!"

The Class 60 regarded her with disdain. "I. Don't. Believe. You."

"You don't have to believe me - it's true!" She cried as her signal dropped. "It's happened before and it will happen again!" She said, shouting to make herself heard as she drove away.

"Just you wait and see! You haven't seen a steam engine sneeze before - have you?" Her voice trailed off as she drove away.

The big engine sat in silence at the platform for a moment as Delta's train clattered into the distance. He looked over at the men from British Rail. "Is that something I need to worry about? Do engines go crazy after a while?"

The men looked at each other. They'd never seen anything like that either!

---

A few days later, the Class 60 finished his testing, and was waiting in Barrow yard for his path back to Loughborough. He hadn't seen Delta since their last "encounter", but he was still smarting over it.

"Coughs and Sneezles, really." He grumbled to himself. "Are all engines like that? Maybe there was a reason they were- oh hello?"

He stopped himself mid-sentence as a calamity emerged from the platforms - a porter's trolley carrying some kind of bagged powder had overturned, and it had enveloped the blue steam engine sitting there in a thick cloud of... something.

The blue engine - his name was Greg or Gourd or something like that - tried blowing steam at the cloud to make it go away, but adding steam only succeeded in making it worse. The cloud billowed and swirled - totally obscuring the platforms from sight - causing the engine to wrinkle his nose before he sneezed massively.

Once, twice, three times he sneezed, and nothing happened. The 60 smiled to himself as the steam and dust cleared.

That old Peak is just soft in the engine block, he thought to himself. Coughs and Sneezles, what a load of garbag-

His train of thought came to a screeching, crashing, halt as the last of the cloud cleared. There, sitting on the track next to the steam engine, was a bewildered looking - and unexpectedly blue-and-yellow - Intercity 125.

-

"Gosh, Gordon," Pip said as she blinked the spilled flour from her eyes. "You certainly know how to make the problem smaller!"

"Quiet you." Gordon hissed, mortified.

"I'VE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE!" Screeched a voice from the yard.

Both engines looked over as the signal dropped, and the class 60 raced out of the yard as fast as his wheels could carry him!

-

Years Later

A seasonal upswing in container traffic had caused the Fat Controller to hire some locomotives from one of the many "Other Railways" that had sprung up out of the ashes of BR.

Most of them were fine, upstanding locomotives, but a few of them were very strange indeed...

"Achoo!" Oliver sneezed. The pollen was getting intense, and it was making his nose itch.

The container train on the line next to him lurched as the big diesel on the front almost jumped out of his plating.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

"Fine!" The big diesel said quickly. "I just don't like sneezes that much."

Oliver didn't know what to say to that.

After a few minutes of silence, he sneezed again, and just like before, the big diesel jumped.

"Is everything all right?" He asked again as one of the main line signals dropped with a clonk.

The big diesel said nothing, instead staring out towards the main line. After a moment, a horn sounded, and the inbound container train rumbled in, another hired diesel at the front. This one came from a different railway, and was in a green and gold livery that Duck had mentioned being quite fond of - he'd said it reminded him of the GWR.

"Good morning Oliver!" The diesel called out as he rolled in. "It seems like I was just here yesterday!"

"That's because you were here yesterday, Fred!" Oliver teased. He felt proud of himself that he was able to talk to more diesels without being scared of them - the new Canadian diesels were very friendly, which helped a lot.

"Yeah, I guess." The green diesel reasoned. "It's almost like that old song - You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!"

The big class 60, who had been looking at Oliver and Fred's paintwork with increasing horror, squeaked in fear and lurched out of the yard as fast as he could!

Fred and Oliver watched him leave. "Is he all right?" Oliver asked.

"Honestly?" Fred said. "His type has always been kinda tetchy when it comes to you steam engines. Whole class is like that - no idea why."

"Huh".

[mst3kproject]

The Neanderthal Man

Since I'm taking a break from fishmen, I might as well let Bigfoot catch up a bit.  The Neanderthal Man isn't exactly a Bigfoot movie, but it’s along the same lines and its entire starring cast has MST3K pedigrees.  Robert Shayne was in Indestructible Man and Teenage Caveman. Richard Crane was Rocky Jones, Space Ranger! Beverly Garland was in Swamp Diamonds and Gunslinger. Even the composer, Albert Glasser, wrote music for Invasion USA, Last of the Wild Horses, and almost all of MST3K’s Bert I. Gordon movies.

Some little mountain town in the middle of the Sierras (which the Portentous 50's Narrator takes some trouble to tell us is a primeval place where 'the defacing hand of civilization has fallen but lightly') is having a rash of saber-toothed tiger sightings!  At first these are laughed off, but when the game warden himself sees one cross the road in the middle of the night, it's time to do something about it.  The warden shows a cast pawprint to Dr. Ross Harkness in Los Angeles, who is interested enough to come up and see for himself. Local Mad Scientist Dr. Groves pooh-poohs the whole thing, which is enough to tell me that we're not dealing with a local cryptid here.  Somebody is making prehistoric monsters.

So... I may not have actually run out of movies, but I seem to be running out of plots, because this is a remarkably similar movie to Monster on the Campus. The major difference between the two films is that Dr. Blake turned himself into a caveman by accident, while Dr. Groves here is doing it on purpose.

Another difference is that Monster on the Campus' story, while silly, was linear – events escalated in a way that felt logical, and there were reasons why things happened when and where they did.  By contrast, The Neanderthal Man feels like a first draft.  At the beginning of the film, we're dealing with the saber-toothed tigers that Groves has been creating by injecting cats with his de-evolution serum.  We hear about these slaughtering game and livestock, and it seems like only a matter of time before they move on to human beings.  The beginning of the film is quite upfront about the fact that Groves is responsible, too, as it is only mildly mysterious in its depiction of one of the creatures escaping his lab.

Sometimes the saber-tooths are represented by an actual tiger, usually filmed from behind or at a great distance so nobody has to put the prosthetic teeth on it.  They do have prosthetic teeth, but they're only visible in a couple of shots. Imagine being at a bar and some guy tells you his job is sticking fake fangs on real tigers for a caveman movie!  For close-ups, there's a hilarious puppet head that looks like the sort of thing you'd see mounted on a frat house wall as a joke.  The director had the sense not to linger on this in motion shots, but later we see still photographs Groves has supposedly taken of his experimental subjects and they're even stupider-looking than we imagined.

Anyway, this goes on for a while with rising action, as the game warden goes to get Harkness and they manage to shoot one of the animals, only to have it vanish from the kill site when they try to show it to Groves (the movie never bothers to explain how that happened, incidentally. The ending suggests that the creatures change back when they die, but there's definitely no dead kitty cat at the scene, either).  The whole movie could easily have just had the cats and their creator as the antagonists, perhaps even ending the same way as Dr. Groves proves his work to the other characters by injecting himself. That's not what happens, though.  Instead, the story mostly forgets about the cats one we find out Groves has also been carrying on human experiments.

(Before himself, Groves' first experimental subject was his disabled Latina housekeeper.  Another series of photos show her half-transformed into a cavewoman who for some reason is wearing drag queen false eyelashes.  And as long as I'm talking about the movie being gross and bigoted, there's a bit where a woman is violently raped.  This happens off camera, but the audience is not allowed to entertain any illusions about it.)

The problem is that before we see him give himself an injection in the arm, we have had absolutely no indication that Groves has been giving his serum to anything besides the cats! Cats are stealthy, cryptic creatures and if one of those has been seen wandering around killing things, then surely a full-on caveman beating people to death would not be able to stay out of sight!  If what we were seeing were the first time Groves had tried the formula on himself then that would be an explanation, but his notes reveal that he's been doing it for so long that he's on the verge of losing control of the transformation and permanently reverting to a pre-human status, as indeed he does for the climax.  Much like the stupid dinosaur in The Beast of Hollow Mountain, the movie's main monster is given no build-up whatsoever!

There's worse yet, though.  The main characters, Dr. Harkness and Groves' daughter Jan, are barely involved in the 'caveman' part of the plot. They get phone calls about the various murders that Groves is committing in caveman form, and they snoop around the lab to figure out things the audience already knows.  The same story could have been told without them, perhaps with the game warden and the hunter as protagonists, and it would probably have been more interesting. The script also repeatedly has Dr. Groves wander in and bluster about how the tiger sightings are hallucinations and tall tales, which seems a little unnecessary when we already know he's responsible. The film-makers can't seem to decide whether they want us to know that or not.

Dr. Groves wears glasses.  Maybe the reason his primitive alter-ego is angry and breaking shit (although it does politely open and close the window it climbs out of, which made me laugh) is because it can't see. This is also my theory about why the Hulk smashes, and what do you know?  In Avengers Endgame he's got Hulk-sized spectacles and only smashes when he's told!

The direction of The Neanderthal Man can probably best be described as 'serviceable'.  It shows us what's going on, but doesn't particularly add anything to the proceedings.  The 'Neanderthal' mask is immobile and uninteresting, not much better than somebody's Party City Sasquatch costume.  Even the eyes are just painted on, meaning the poor guy in the costume can’t do much because he can’t see where he’s going.

The dialogue is often very strange, with characters talking like they're in a Jules Verne novel. If only one person did this, it might seem like a character quirk – it works for Dr. Groves, for example – but it's everybody. Seeing the cat carcass is gone, Harkness declares, “I refuse to believe in the supernatural!  There must be some logical cause and effect to this unholy adventure!”  Groves' fiancee Ruth berates him for ignoring her, saying, “I want you, the man I once knew!  The good companion, the cheerful friend.  I want the happiness we once found in each other.”  It's bizarre to listen to, and often audibly awkward for the actors.

Monster on the Campus was kind of trying to be about how humanity must choose to evolve away from our inner savage, although the finale didn't bear that out.  There's a scene in The Neanderthal Man in which this movie seems to be trying to go in the opposite direction, saying that we were never savage to begin with.  Dr. Groves is speaking to a panel of scientists about the size of the brain in various 'primitive' species of human.  He points out that by the time we reached Homo erectus we were already working with four times the cerebral jelly of a chimpanzee, and argues that our ancestors would have been recognizably human in their behaviour and problem-solving capacity.

(Amusingly, his chart of human evolution includes Piltdown Man, which was proven to be a hoax literally a few months after this movie's release.  What makes this even more tragic for the writers is that their list of primitive humans seems to be the only place where they actually did any research.)

The problem with Dr. Groves' theory is that he already knows it's wrong. We soon learn that he's been experimenting on himself with his serum for a while already, and his notes show that he knows very well he regresses into a near-mindless animal.  The movie does not even try to reconcile these ideas.  If Groves were continuing his experiments in the hope that perfecting his serum would give him a more accurate reconstruction of ancient man, that would be one thing, but the script never goes there.

So now that we've had two 'man turns into caveman by injecting science juice' movies, of course I have to ask which one is better.  Monster on the Campus wasn't a good movie but it was definitely an improvement on The Neanderthal Man in several respects, and although I don't have any way to find out for certain, I suspect it was an intentional remake.  It's definitely more entertaining and gets bonus points for including the Meganeura dragonfly, but nothing in it is nearly as funny as The Neanderthal Man's fake tiger head.  I guess if you're gonna watch one or the other, stick to Monster on the Campus, but if you're gonna watch both, start with The Neanderthal Man and do them in chronological order, the better to spot the inspirations and references.

Before I go, a fun paleontology fact: current thinking is that the saber-toothed cat's eponymous fangs actually didn't show when it had its mouth closed!  There are zero cave paintings or ancient sculptures of a saber-tooth cat with teeth visible, and when scientists looked at the structure of the enamel in the canines, it suggested that in life the teeth were hidden by big, fleshy, St Bernard jowls.  Google 'smilodon lips' and behold how this looks fully three hundred percent more ridiculous than you're imagining.  I love nature.

[bluboothalassophile]

#21 from your prompt list jayrae with kids . The children drawer horrible drawings but they still hang it up anyway because they love them

Hello,

Okay few things before you guys start reading this.

1. It’s set in HfaB Universe, not really spoilers but just in case, yes it’s spoilers.

2. I don’t see HfaB JayRae having children, however, they do have all of Jay’s family which is a boatload and a half of kids of various ages because in HfaB they did really adopt the ‘It Takes a Village’ aspect of family because they’re so big. Also, I just cannot see those two ever having children, just doesn’t strike me as something they’d want or strive to have.

3. Barbara Gordon Married Luke Fox at some undetermined point of HfaB, which is important to know because they adopted Carrie Kelley and Nell Little and later had joint custody over Thomas Grayson-Gordon-Fox with Dick.

Jack Bollocks...

Jason and Raven were probably the only ‘kid-less’ couple in his family. And he would say that loosely. Jason’s family was obscenely large, and while he didn’t think it was because of a lack of birth control it was definitely a lack of adoption impulse control. Which was fine, it was fine, it was family, and his family was huge and diverse and that was fine.

But now there were a hoard of kids he always seemed to have on hand and he wasn’t a dad, and Raven wasn’t a mom. And Jason knew, not even a month into their marriage, they weren’t likely to have any children of their own, which was fine by him, and Raven never brought up the matter as an issue.

See, as a demoness, part mortal and part divine, a granddaughter of Death and God, Raven was infertile, she would not have a child in the traditional way, and Jason was fine with that. And between them, they had both not been inclined to adopt a child because his family was already huge, Jason had several orphanages and safe havens, and had restructured the fostering system in Gotham to such a point that he was mainly involved with kids already, they just didn’t feel a need to have kids.

At the end of the day, it was just him and just Rae, and they kind of liked that about them.

Still, for not having any kids, there was so much kid art on his fridge that he was genuinely concerned for space. And today was proving that as he held Luke and Bab’s daughter in his arms, and the other one clung to his leg.

Nell Little was an orphan that Luke and Babs had fostered and adopted, she was abandoned in Gotham’s system. Jason loved his ‘niece’ fiercely, but she was at the art stage, and as he was a babysitter most frequently, that meant he had the art that was ‘for him’ and not ‘for mom and dad’ put on his fridge. Her older sister, Carrie Kelly, was clinging to his leg and snickering like this was a challenge he would fail, which was irritating. Carrie, for not being genetically related to Babs, had a lot of Babs traits. Their elder brother wasn’t helping matters because he was laughing to himself as he played on his phone. Thomas Grayson-Gordon-Fox was the interdimensional child product of Barbara and Dick from another dimension somewhere in the dark multi-verse who had been sent here for sanctuary purposes; Jason honestly didn’t think Tommy even knew he was from another dimension he’d been here so long.

“Jay?” Nell whimpered as she stared at his fridge.

“I’m gonna put it up, I just need to find the perfect spot so we can admire it!” he promised.

“T’eres no room!” Nell sobbed.

“Raven!” Jason shouted for his wife who materialized from no where and floated over his shoulder.

“Yes?” she drawled out.

“Where would be a good spot to display this?” he asked.

“Oh, lovely, is that a blue sun?” Raven asked Nell.

“It’s the ocean!” Nell quipped happily.

“Yeah, Rae, obviously that’s the ocean!” he defended playfully.

“My mistake,” she chuckled. “Um… how about we start a wall?” Raven offered.

“Alright,” he agreed, and he saw Carrie pouting which had her big brother laughing. Jason found a wall on his warehouse to tack up Nell’s painting and looked at his wife for help. “We’ll put it uptop so that way we can fill this whole wall,” he assured her.

“REALLY!” Nell gasped excitedly.

“Of course. Family wall of art,” he stated.

“It’ll be lovely,” Raven chuckled as she came back down to land beside him.

“It’ll look like a Jackson Pollock painting, but what the hell,” he sighed.

“Who Jack Bollocks?” Nell whispered in his ear.

“Famous artist,” Raven answered for him.

“Oh, so… we…artists?” the toddler asked.

“That’s right sweetie, you are,” Jay agreed. “Go paint us another painting and we’ll get to filling up this wall.”

“YAY!” Nell scrambled down and ran for the paints with Carrie, Tommy rolled his eyes and followed.

“It’s so ugly,” he whispered.

Raven laughed as she leaned on him.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but none of us, except Dami, are artistic!” he muttered.

“Jay,” she laughed. “Maybe we should have your other relatives join and diverse-ify the wall of art?” she offered. “Terry’s not bad with sketching, and Mar'i makes those beautiful abstract patterns.”

“Rae, we will lose this warehouse if we let the rugrats take over,” he pointed out.

“Jay, we already lost this warehouse to your rugrats, that’s why we have Massachusetts,” she pointed out.

“Oh, and what are you thinking?” he asked as he smiled a bit.

“Long weekend, just us,” she murmured.

“I like that idea,” he agreed. “Should be able to get my family to wrangle their kids into place.”

“Mmm, that’s a lot of kids,” she chuckled.

“They really need to work on their adoption impulses, I mean all my birth control jokes are out the window because of the lack of adoption impulses,” he grumbled.

Raven was laughing hard against him which had him smiling as he slung his arm around her shoulders.

“Jason, it’s a good thing you can’t make the birth control jokes,” she mused. “Besides, found families are precious, and that makes your family special in ways no one will ever understand.”

“Yeah, richest, large family in the states,” he mused. “We’re bigger than the Kardashians!”

“See, good things,” she mused.

“I can see the reality show now. ‘Keeping up with the Bats!’, it’d drive people insane,” he mused.

“Especially when they see the kid art,” she mused. “It’s like the shrink ink blobs,” she pointed out.

He smiled as he kept from laughing.

“In all seriousness though, it is lovely, even if it’s horrible,” she assured him. “I think it livens up our home.”

“And the perpetual chaos doesn’t do that already!?”

“No, that’s just a byproduct of Bats.”

[theyearoftheking]

Book Seventy-Nine: If It Bleeds

“There’s an underlying truth in it which I believe you will grasp even at your current age Films are ephemeral, while books- the good ones- are eternal, or close to it. You have read me many good ones, but others are waiting to be written.” 

This is it... the second to last book in the challenge. I’m really dragging my feet reading Later (although it is a spectacular book). But this challenge is over, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have a ton of books on my shelves and Kindle to read, and writing that needs to be done (characters are all but screaming for me to come back to them); but this project really gave me purpose in a rudderless time. 

I had started this project as a fun conversation piece, but quickly turned into something bigger. During quarantine, this challenge gave me a purpose. I’d challenge myself to read one hundred pages a day, and remind myself to drink water between chapters. Sometimes writing these posts dragged me out of bed. In winter months I’m extremely agoraphobic, and it’s tough for me to leave the house some days. And other days it’s all I can do to wash and brush my hair. Mental health is a bitch, sometimes. But I didn’t mean to make this about me... although I’m sure some of my readers can relate, a lot of us took a hit to the mental health during 2020. While I will look back on quarantine fondly (it gave me excuses not to leave the house, or change out of my pajamas), my mental health will not. But just as it’s time to leave the house, I suppose it’s also time to start focusing on new projects once this one is complete. I have no idea what that will look like. Maybe I’ll start with Steve’s movies. Maybe I’ll re-read Joe Hill. Who knows. But I do know I’m going to indulge in some trashy fiction reading. 

Ok! 

If It Bleeds is a collection of three novellas, and a Holly Gibney story. I shouldn’t discount the other three stories: they’re extremely well written, and thought provoking. But the real star of the book is the Holly story. 

The first story, Mr. Harrigan’s Phone turns grief on it’s ear. A lot of people call their loved one’s cellphones after they pass... they want that experience of hearing their voice just one more time. But what happens when the phone is buried with your loved one and continues to ring? And what if you get a text from them after their death? It’s a sweet story, with your typical Steve twist. 

The second story, The Life of Chuck is told backwards, and “contains multitudes”. It also has a post-apocalyptic vibes, with California falling into the ocean, and the Midwest burning. It also has college kids storming the White House looking for answers, which is just another example of Steve predicting the future. 

Steve was inspired by a random billboard that read, “Thanks Chuck!” along with a guys picture and “39 Great Years”. Again, something mundane with a great Steve twist. He’s proven this is his sweet spot. 

The third story is If It Bleeds, which picks up almost immediately where The Outsider left off. There’s a tragic bombing that takes place inside an elementary school, and Holly can’t stop watching the television news reports. There’s something tickling at her brain, and she can’t figure out what it is. 

Eventually we find out there are more monsters like the one Holly killed in The Outsider. Jerome makes the best comparison, and says evil is like a bird that randomly flies from person to person, infecting them as it goes. There’s one section of the book when a character refers to the monster as, “It”. So it makes you wonder if this is one big tie-in, where we find out Holly is killing pieces of the monster that plagued Derry for so long. 

The mystery itself is secondary to Holly’s larger-than-life character. She is dealing with family issues; her Trump-supporting mom needs Holly’s help putting her uncle in a care facility, and Holly is struggling to cut herself out of the co-dependent relationship she has with her mother. But Holly has grown. She knows her worth, and she doesn’t let people talk down to her anymore. Her evolution is best described as, “Holly would do well to remember...who she is. Not the child who nibbled Mr. Rabbit Trick’s ears. Not the adolescent who threw up her breakfast most days before school. She  is the woman who, along with Bill and Jerome, saved those children at the Midwest Culture and Arts Complex. She is the woman who survived Brady Hartsfield. The one who faced another monster in a Texas cave. The girl who hid in this room and never wanted to come out is gone.” 

The final story is Rat. And I’m just going to tell you... an actual rat quoting Jonathan Franzen is perfect. He’s problematic enough to be an actual rodent. Yeah, I’m going to say it. The Corrections was absolute garbage, and I don’t know why it was lauded the way it was. He’s a condescending misogynist and he’s not nearly as good a writer as he thinks he is... says the girl writing a blog on her Stephen King musings. But whatever! I own what I’m doing, and the significance of it.

I will gladly re-read all of Steve’s books again before picking up another Jonathan Franzen book. If you want to dive into all the reasons he’s disgusting, this Bustle article will explain it to you. Like, legit explain it. Not mansplain it. 

Anyway, Rat explores why it’s not a great idea to make deals with rodents during major weather events. And when you’re at your isolated cabin and a major snowstorm is on the way- heed your wife’s advice and come back to civilization. 

This collection included plenty of Constant Reader mentions:

Derry

Shawshank Prison

Castle Rock

Gunslinger

It was an excellent collection, and I can’t get enough Holly. Steve talked about how she started out as a small, minor character and her presence just grew and grew. I don’t know about the rest of the Constant Readers, but I’d totally read another Holly book. Hell, I’ll take a whole series at this point. 

So, my final book is Later. I’ve got about 100 pages left to read and then that’s it... until April. 

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 48

Total Dark Tower References: 76

Book Grade: A+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

Doctor Sleep: A+

The Talisman: A+

Wizard and Glass: A+

11/22/63: A+

Mr. Mercedes: A+

End of Watch: A+

Under the Dome: A+

Needful Things: A+

On Writing: A+

The Green Mile: A+

Hearts in Atlantis: A+

Full Dark, No Stars: A+

The Outsider: A+

The Bazaar of Bad Dreams: A+

If It Bleeds: A+

Just After Sunset: A+

Rose Madder: A+

Misery: A+

Different Seasons: A+

It: A+

Four Past Midnight: A+

Stephen King Goes to the Movies: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

Finders Keepers: A-

Bag of Bones: A-

Duma Key: A-

Black House: A-

The Institute: A-

The Wastelands: A-

The Drawing of the Three: A-

The Dark Tower: A-

Dolores Claiborne: A-

Blaze: B+

Hard Listening: B+

Revival: B+

Nightmares in the Sky: B+

The Dark Half: B+

Joyland: B+

Skeleton Crew: B+

The Dead Zone: B+

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+

Wolves of the Calla: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Song of Susannah: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

From a Buick 8: B

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon: B

Sleeping Beauties: B-

The Colorado Kid: B-

Storm of the Century: B-

Everything’s Eventual: B-

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

The Wind Through the Keyhole: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Running Man: C+

Cell: C+

Thinner: C+

Dark Visions: C+

The Eyes of the Dragon: C+

The Long Walk: C+

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Rage: C

Desperation: C-

Insomnia: C-

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Faithful: D

Gerald’s Game: D

Roadwork: D

Lisey’s Story: D

Christine: D

Dreamcatcher: D

The Regulators: D

The Tommyknockers D

Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights, Rebecca

[gumnut-logic]

Who do you save, John? (Bit 10c + The End)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5a | Bit 5b | Bit 6 | Bit 7 | Bit 8 | Bit 9 | Bit 10a | Bit 10b  | Bit 10c

Always end up rushed. Didn’t have a chance to edit the end so I’m likely to be swearing at it later. Sorry for the delay, muse crashed and burned on Friday. here’s hoping I’ve resuscitated it. 17,000 words. So much for the under 10K I estimated. Typical.

For @5hadow-alpha​​​  cos they wanted Shopping and a Tracy brother. They got more than one, and I got more than I expected.

-o-o-o-

The next time Alan woke, the room was full of golden family.

The sun was setting through the window, lighting up the room in shades of gold. His brothers were lit up as they clustered around Virgil’s bed.

They didn’t notice Alan, and it gave him the opportunity to both wake up fully and observe his family undetected.

He was feeling much better. His head was a lot clearer and he was calmer.

The reason why no one noticed his wakefulness was because Virgil was already awake.

His brother was smiling and poking fun at a sunlit Gordon near the end of his bed. Gordon appeared to be enjoying it. When the attention drifted away from him and whether or not he was allowed to film Virgil on drugs, the expression on his fish brother’s face was one of fondness and hope. His eyes barely left the prone man.

That fact could have been annoying from a little brother’s perspective, but Alan found himself doing the same thing.

Virgil, who had literally died in his arms, was supported by his bed, sitting up at an angle and talking quite animatedly. There was a healthy flush to his cheeks that hadn’t been there before.

John was standing calmly on the other side of the bed, the setting sun catching his hair from behind as it darted through the hospital window.

John had a habit of striking such a pose. It was unclear if he did it on purpose or was completely unaware of his surroundings in those moments.

Virgil had photographed him on multiple occasions for that exact reason, much to the astronaut’s annoyance.

Grandma stood beside him; her arms wrapped around his. That was an unusual sight. But then they had almost lost a brother and the threat had been to John.

That thought led into unpleasant directions so he brought it to a halt.

He could only see Scott’s back, but his brother was gesticulating, making a point about digging up Gordon’s baby videos and broadcasting them to the world if he didn’t behave.

As if Scott would ever do something like that.

Though, come to think of it, the threat at least wasn’t a bad idea. Alan had much less a solid reputation than Scott and could probably carry the threat enough to get some good ones out of his brother.

“How did you know it was a fake detonator?” John’s voice cut across the conversation, his expression puzzled. The question came out of the blue, ever a sign that John’s mind worked on more than one track at a time.

Virgil blinked up at him. “I…I didn’t at first. It was a good replica of a T-325. But I noticed he was holding his hand strangely. The T-325 has a trigger rest here.” His brother held up a hand as if to sketch out the design in the air, only wince and withdraw the gesture.

Grandma frowned at him from the other side of the bed.

“Long story short…if you waved a T-325 around as much as he did, with that grip, chances are we would have blown up long before he had started his second rant. That one is a touchy model.” Virgil shifted awkwardly and Scott laid a hand on his arm.

“Well, I’m glad we had our expert on hand.”

Scott’s smile was reflected in Virgil’s eyes.

“Oh, ho, ho, look who’s awake!”

Trust Gordon to dob him in.

Suddenly all the eyes in the room were on Alan. His father and eldest brother spun, both faces lighting up when they realised Alan was awake.

Alan couldn’t help but grin back. “Hey.” His voice caught and he coughed.

Talk about ruining a moment. Scott was on him immediately, his dad not far behind.

“How are you feeling, Alan?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m good.” He reached out his uninjured arm and nudged his worried brother aside gently. “Virgil?”

Soft brown eyes caught his and his big brother smiled. “Hey, Allie.”

A hand landed on Alan’s leg and he looked up to find a pair of grey eyes peering down at him. Alan frowned. “Dad, you should sit down.”

“I’m fine, Allie. Are you comfortable?”

An arched eyebrow. “I’m good, honest.” And he was. There was definitely still something in his system. It was keeping him quite happy. Too much movement probably wasn’t on the cards yet, but to be honest, the sight of Virgil smiling at him was enough endorphins to keep him going for weeks.

He turned back to Virgil and soaked it in.

The smile turned to a grin and Alan flushed in embarrassment.

But those brown eyes were reassurance itself.

“Hmm, did you two want to be alone?”

“Shut up, Gordon.” It was sharp, but no less reassuring that Virgil could spin the familiar phrase off so easily.

Alan laughed. “Good to see you, Virg.”

Again with the smile. “Likewise.” Those eyes turned inwards for a second before fixating on him. “And thank you.”

The line ‘just doing my job’ climbed onto his lips, but he vetoed it. “Always, bro.”

The room was embarrassingly silent after that and the moment broke.

“Dad, I would rather you sat down.” Virgil was definitely feeling better.

“I can look after myself, son.” It was firm and a touch threatening if Virgil chose to push the point.

But his father took a seat.

Alan shifted position and his arm twinged. He must have shown it on his face, because Scott reached out and touched his shoulder. He looked up to find worried blue eyes staring down at him.

Apparently, he needed to repeat himself. “I’m okay, Scott.”

His brother grunted before letting go, grabbing his plastic chair and dumping himself in it.

The room fell silent.

Turquoise hit him from across the room as the sun dipped behind a cloud and the room chilled.

“So, who was that guy?” Anything to get the conversation moving.

For a second, he regretted the topic as Scott’s lips thinned, but he had to know and clearing the air wouldn’t hurt, would it?

It was John who answered, though. “Timothy was a rescue we were unable to attend. Eos pulled the records and what he said was true. He lost his family. Any other day and we would have been there, but the Tsunami Disaster had all our attention.” A pause. “I am sorry.”

Scott started at that. “Hey, it was not your fault.”

A copper eyebrow arched. “Really? Do you want me to list exactly where our forces were deployed at that moment? It was Day Three. Scott was en route to Tracy Island for refueling, Virgil, you were asleep. Gordon had dragged you to the bunk on Two. He had threatened to tie you down. You were all down for the count. His call was one of twenty-three we couldn’t respond to on that particular day.”

“Johnny-“ Gordon held out a hand.

It was almost snapped off. “Don’t call me Johnny.”

“John.” Their father’s voice managed to be both warning and worried at the same time.”

His astronaut brother didn’t back down. “This isn’t out of the ordinary. It happens every day. It is happening now. People are dying because we are not there.”

“We can’t save everyone.” His father’s voice was firm.

“I know that, Dad.” John’s expression was exasperation itself. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”

Silence fell again and all Alan could think of was how this whole thing had been aimed at John and how it had obviously reached its target despite Timothy not succeeding in his plan.

Something was burning in his brother. He could see it from here. John was tense and agitated.

It was likely the drugs, but Alan just wanted to climb out of bed and hug him.

“Well now, I think, you could all do with something to eat.” Grandma squeezed John’s arm and he looked down at her as if snapped from a dream. “Don’t look at me like that, young man. I know you haven’t been eating.”

“What?” Scott sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing in on his brother. “John?”

The astronaut rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” And Grandma was nudging him towards the door.

His father stood up and followed.

Scott eyed Alan a moment, but stayed seated.

As their grandmother and father herded John out the door, Gordon took the opportunity to steal the chair beside Scott.

“Is John okay?” The words fell from Alan’s mouth before he could think twice.

Scott sighed. “He will be.” There was a silent ‘I hope’ after that.

“Eh, he’s just pissed Eos got found out.”

Alan blinked. “What?”

“Gordon!”

“Just trying to lighten the atmosphere. Cool it, bro.”

Alan frowned. “What?”

“Eos electrocuted a guard with his own comms circuit.” Gordon was smirking.

“What? How?”

“Upped the signal power enough to arc through his baldric.”

Alan stared at his brother. “She hurt him?” He turned to Scott. “She can do that?” To us?

“Don’t worry, it is not happening again.”

“He deserved it.” Gordon snarled the words. “Betraying us for money. He’s lucky it was Eos and not Kayo.”

Scott tilted his head. “Kayo hasn’t finished with him yet.”

Alan’s eyes were bugging out. “Who? And why?”

Scott sighed just a little. “The guard outside the dressing room was an accomplice.”

“One of our own?”

“Yes.” That single word said so much. Kayo wasn’t the only person angry at such a betrayal. No doubt whoever it was would have to face the Commander at some point.

Alan had faced an angry Scott before. Not an experience for the faint hearted.

“And Eos was able to electrocute him with his comms?”

“Brains is working on it as we speak. It won’t happen again.”

Scott would never be entirely comfortable with Eos. Alan had to admit he had a few issues of his own having had to scoop up his astronaut brother as he lay dying in space, because of her.

A hand landed on his. “It won’t happen again.”

Alan swallowed. “Good.”

“Well, we’re lucky it happened this once. John found traces of an alien computer program in the z band network. Brains is having conniptions. This one security breach could have destroyed everything.”

“But it didn’t.” Virgil’s voice was quiet, but strong enough to stop the conversation. “We’re all safe. It’s over.” Brown eyes flickered in his direction.

The same brown eyes that had closed on Alan as his brother died in his arms.

Anger flared up. “So, this security breach let Timothy do what he wanted and Virgil died because of it.” Three pairs of eyes widened at Alan’s sharp tone. “How did this happen? How did he get past all our security checks? Kayo is pedantic to the point that I sometime wonder if I’ll be allowed access to anything. How did we not know?”

“Allie, it’s okay.” Again, Virgil’s voice was soft. “We’ll fix it.”

“You died, Virgil!”

“No, I didn’t.” Those eyes blinked slowly.

“You did!”

“Alan!”

And he found himself breathing fast and hard. Scott was holding him down. Gordon had a hand on his leg.

“Calm down, Allie.” Intense blue eyes caught his. “Virgil is safe. You are safe. We will fix this.”

Alan stared up at his big brother, soaking in the reassurance Scott was broadcasting. A deeper breath and he willed his heart rate to slow. He swallowed and managed the briefest of nods.

“The guy had money and resources. Kayo will, no doubt, rake our entire security force over hot coals. We will learn from this experience and it will not happen again.”

“It should not have happened in the first place.” Alan found his voice cold and as Scott flinched, he knew it had hit home.

“Allie…” Virgil looked half asleep and Alan realised that he probably was. “We’ll fix this.”

Alan pressed his lips together and glanced between all three of his brothers before once again fixating on Scott.

“We better.”

-o-o-o-

Jeff dragged John out of the hospital room with the full intention of cornering him. The fact his mother came with them was only an inconvenience.

“Mom, could you run ahead and dig up some menus from the cafeteria and perhaps let the nurses station know that the boys are awake?”

His mother eyed him and arched a silver eyebrow. “Certainly.” A flick of that gaze at his son before she turned and walked off.

No doubt he would be paying for that one later.

But first he wanted to speak to John.

“Walk with me?”

The astronaut frowned at him, but nodded once.

Jeff cursed being so slow, but he led his son down to the hospital garden. Security made itself known as Iz appeared from nowhere and he caught a glimpse of Leone not far off. Kayo was laying it on thick, but he couldn’t blame her.

The garden was a small one and this late in the day, quite dark and empty. Most patients had been hustled off to bed and their visitors went with them.

If Iz was seen to lock the door behind them and secure the green patch for them alone, Jeff wasn’t going to argue, just this once.

He found a bench under a large shrub that gave them some privacy and ushered John to sit down beside him as he lowered himself on to the seat.

“Dad, I’m okay.”

“That seems to be a theme in this family even when it is a blatant lie.”

That shut his boy up for a moment.

Jeff sighed. “John, when I sent you up there, I knew it was going to be hard. I am sorry.”

“No, Dad. I knew what I was getting into. This is not your fault.”

“Isn’t it? Aren’t I hailed the creator of International Rescue?” He tried hard to catch those turquoise eyes, but John refused to look at him.“Pfft. The media. What do they know?”

That got a reaction. Copper eyebrows arched and his son looked up. Jeff took every advantage.

“I may have taken the first steps, but it is you boys who have kept it all going. Lived it. You’ve lived it for ten years. That is four times as long as I have and, trust me, I have guilt for those numbers.”

“Dad-“

He held up a hand. “No. This is where you listen, John.”

Something flashed in those eyes and Jeff’s lips twisted in response. “I set you boys on this path and you have succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. You have made both your mother and I ever so proud.”

John just stared at him, eyes a little wide.

“But there has been a cost. You carry scars that have me questioning every decision I ever made.” He swallowed, all of it suddenly threatening to overwhelm. He shifted in his seat. “John, I know you sit up there day in and day out with lives in your hands. I can see that every life lost has as much effect on you as it does your brothers and often even more so because you see more of them.”

Jeff paused and tilted his head. “What’s the average number?”

John blinked. “Excuse me?”

“How many lives are lost per day because we can’t respond?”

There was a flicker of the professional emergency responder and his son’s face fell calm. “Ten to fifteen. It varies. The number includes rescues that fail due to local authorities incapability, situations that become more severe than predicted on initial assessment and situations we can not attend simply because we do not have the resources.”

“And what do you tell these callers?”

“What I can.” John’s voice grew quiet. “We do our best, Dad.”

Little more than breath. “Exactly.” He held his son’s eyes and couldn’t help but see the young man he had once been during that cyclone all those years ago. That same youth and concern. That care for those he couldn’t help.

“What’s the average daily rescue count?”

John blinked. “Uh, it varies between ten and several hundred.”

It was Jeff’s turn to blink. “That many?”

John shrugged. “Well, the statistics were blown during the asteroid crisis with Fischler and the aurora generator was full of hypotheticals.” His son was frowning, his hands expressive.

Jeff grabbed them.

“If you had a choice, all over again, as to whether you would take this path or another, what would you choose?”

The frown he received was castigating. “Dad, that’s asking the ridiculous.”

“No, who do you save, John? Them or yourself.”

“That’s a stupid question. Of course, I, we, choose to save everyone we can. We do it every day, Dad.” His son looked offended.

“Even despite the cost?”

“Of course.” The offense turned to an expression questioning Jeff’s sanity.

“Why?”

“Because it is worth it, Dad. When someone calls for help, they have to know there is someone out there who will answer. That’s what I do, Dad. I’m The Voice Who Answers.”

Jeff couldn’t help but smile. His boys made him so proud. Worried, yes, but so, so proud. His own words from so many years ago, echoed back at him by the very son who enacted them on a daily basis. The son who sacrificed so much to be up there, apart from his family, apart from the world, just so he could do exactly that.

The Voice Who Answers didn’t even consider the question, a question.

Who do you save?

Everyone you can.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[hlvraik]

Any little fun headcanons?

(I have a lot, but to keep it short, 1-2 headcanons per character-)

GORDON

He usually speaks without thinking whenever he's really stressed or irritated, leading to him audibly cursing right in front of the kid!science team, and well... You can imagine the repercussions: Gordon frantically sushing and apologizing to the group for his mistake, Tommy wondering what the words mean in which case, Coomer gladly quotes the Wikipedia's article on profanity and gives examples of every curse word under the Black Mesa's fluorescent lights, Bubby would be hysterical and would, without a doubt, holler the words back at Gordon and would be stoked when Coomer gives more examples, and Benrey would just be chill about the whole situation, but alas, they would often utter some curse words along the way just for the shits and giggles.

Gordon would often ask the remaining stray scienctists to watch over the science team whenever he had to run a quick errand such as taking care of the aliens in the next room, or charging his H.E.V. suit. This would always end up horribly as once Gordon returns, the scienctist would mysteriously be dead and he knows exactly the reason why, and no, he doesn't even want to know how they were even capable of doing so-

COOMER

Coomer is the mom friend in the group, their the first one to notice if anybody's feeling down and would try their absolute best to cheer them up, mainly through either telling and cracking jokes, sharing stray snacks they tucked away in their labcoat pockets, or just simply trying his best to understand the situation to the best of his abilities.

Would use his robotic limbs for many 'hilarious' and 'fun' instances; i.e. extending his arms to pick up stray headcrabs and showing them off to Gordon right infront of his face, causing him to constantly beg Coomer to put it down, extending his legs to be on eye-level with both Tommy and Gordon, or even being taller than them, and even just boopin' everybody on the nose using his extendo-arms.

BUBBY

They hate being the second shortest in the group, the shortest being Benrey, so they try to convince Gordon constantly to allow them to wear high-heel boots, which Gordon keeps denying since one, they're too big on them, and two, Gordon cannot count how many times Bubby tripped and fell while wearing them. To make it up to them, Gordon would carry them, which would freak them out due to his fear of heights. (You cannot win with them...)

They will fight anybody that fucks with their Bug Juice. Do you know how difficult it is to get a hold of it? Some one would have to order it online or at least go outside to a nearby gas station AND NOW THAT THERE'S A WHOLE ASS BEEN RESONANCE CASCADE-

They're just a complete mess: their glasses are always crooked and often slide off their nose; they're either barefooted or wearing mix and match socks; they have constant bed hair 24/7, etc. (The list can go on.)

TOMMY

Carries around a little notepad with them wherever they go in order to keep track of Benrey's sweet voice. Of course, they do color code everything with either colored pencils or highlighters. Occasionally, they would doodle drawings of either their dad, Sunkist, their friends, or even Gordon himself.

Tommy's really close to Benrey as they are extremely close friends. They can always be seen around one another, and both of them seem to enjoy each other's company. (Benrey especially.) They usually just check up on one another or just simply talk about Beyblades, types of soda, etc.

BENREY

Although their helmet and their bangs are blocking their field of vision, they can still see extremely well, and Gordon doesn't even know how that's even possible, but there are still times where they tend to bump into things here and there. (And then later on, tries to play it off cool.) often asks to borrow pieces of paper from Tommy's notebook and their colored pencils in order to create made-up passports for the gang, but purposely forgets to make Gordon one just to annoy him. (Even if they did get him a passport, you know that Benrey would misspell his name on purpose—putting Feetman as his last name.)

[wrestlingisfake]

Best in the World preview

After getting confused about MLW Battle Riot, now I feel like I have to check to make sure all these shows are actually available to watch live!

Best in the World is $29.99 on Fite.tv, or $14.99 for Honor Club members, or free for Honor Club VIP members. (HonorClub is really only worth signing up for if you're already going hard for ROH.) The pre-show starts at 7pm EDT, and the main show begins at 8pm EDT.

Rush vs. Bandido - Bandido won the Survival of the Fittest tournament for the right to challenge Rush here for the ROH world title. Rush won the belt for the second time in February 2020 and, thanks to the pandemic, has only defended it three times since then. But this show kicks of Ring of Honor's return to live crowds, so maybe now we can get back to normal. This is the company's big chance to get the Rush era back on track, or to turn the page and start a new era with Bandido.

There really isn't anyone else like Rush in ROH. He just clobbers dudes, wins all the time, and looks like a star. He's not exactly Brock Lesnar, but he has an aura that makes him feel like he should be in a bigger company, and no one on this roster can carry his jock. I would figure the plan is to set up a rising young star to finally figure out how to beat this guy. Bandido would make sense in that role, but it's anyone's guess if that's the plan for him.

AEW wanted very badly to sign Bandido in early 2019, but he went with ROH instead because at the time no one knew if AEW was actually going to work. That gave ROH a huge opportunity to build their future around a top prospect AEW wanted but couldn't get. Instead Bandido spent the past few years lost in the shuffle with Lifeblood and the Mexisquad. I really feel like ROH dropped the ball with this guy. The fact he's suddenly on top now doesn't totally make up for that.

It's tough to pick a winner here. Rush is the logical favorite, but ROH might want to shake things up as they go back to doing shows in front of live crowds. An upset win for Bandido would create a lot of options for fresh title matches at upcoming shows. But if Rush retains, ROH will have the same problem Smackdown is having with Roman Reigns--how do you convince the audience that anyone is left that can beat this guy?

Jonathan Gresham vs. Mike Bennett - Bennett won a seven-man gauntlet to earn this match for Gresham's ROH pure championship. This title is contested under "pure wrestling rules," which basically limit rope breaks and add tighter restrictions on punches to the face and outside interference. Gresham is an expert at this type of match, whereas Bennett is new to the format.

Bennett (along with his wife Maria Kanellis) was a mainstay in ROH, and then had a decent little run in Impact before going to WWE as "Mike Kanellis." Everything went wrong with that WWE run, but at least that's led to Bennett receiving a lot of sympathy from fans as he picks himself up and keeps going. Since returning to ROH, Bennett has mainly been supporting Matt Taven in his feud. So this is an interesting way to get him spun off into his own thing.

The pure rules stuff doesn't do a lot for me, but I like the idea of a styles clash where one guy is completely out of his element. Gresham should wrestle rings around Bennett, but Bennett should be so tenacious that Gresham can't quite put him away. It wouldn't hurt Bennett to lose, although a Bennett title win would probably be such an insult to Gresham's pride that it could set up an intense long-term rivalry.

Honestly my main interest in this match is that I recently listened to a WARHORSE interview where he said he almost quit wrestling but Mike Bennett talked him out of it. So Bennett seems like a cool guy and I'm pulling for him.

Jay Lethal vs. Brody King - Back in March, King disrupted the feud between The Foundation and Los Faccion Ingobernable by introducing his own stable called Violence Unlimited. That's pretty much all there is to this match--it's just a Foundation guy and a VU guy facing off in the latest round of a three-way war.

It stands to reason that the winner of this match would move on to start something with LFI's leader, Rush. So unofficially this feels like a match to decide the next contender for the world title. However, Rush already defended the title against King in December and Lethal in February. So I don't know, maybe these two will just clobber each other and it won't matter who wins. That's how a lot of ROH matches feel to me, honestly.

Tracy Williams & Rhett Titus vs. Homicide & Chris Dickinson - Williams and Titus (of the Foundation) are defending the ROH tag team title. The challengers are representing Violence Unlimited. Dickinson came to ROH by way of teaming with Brody King on NJPW Strong, so he made good sense in King's ROH faction. Homicide was at the very first ROH show in 2002; before aligning with VU, it had been seven years since he appeared in the promotion.

This is another match where I can't get a feel for where things are headed, and I'm not sure it makes much difference. I guess my gut says they should put the title on the new team to get them over.

Tony Deppen vs. Dragon Lee - An injury forced Lee to vacate the ROH television title, which Tracy Williams won for the Foundation, who lost it to Violence Unlimited's Deppen, and now Lee wants to get it back for Los Faccion Ingobernable. Once again, I'm not sure it matters which guy ends up with the belt, but I'll go with Lee to win since the injury situation probably messed up their plans.

Shane Taylor & Moses & Kaun vs. Dalton Castle & Dak Draper & Eli Isom - Shane Taylor Promotions is defending the ROH trios title. Castle has been doing this weird passive-aggressive thing with Draper and Isom, so his latest move is to arrange this title shot behind their backs. It might be interesting to put the title on three guys who want championships but not with each other. But I'm fairly confident this just ends with Castle's team falling apart because he's a dick.

EC3 vs. Flip Gordon - When EC3 started here as a heel, he recruited Flip to help him fight Jay and Mark Briscoe; later as EC3 went babyface, he took exception to Gordon's cheating tactics. So now Flip is the target of all the weird cryptic multimedia presentations that EC3 likes to do for his opponents.

Flip used to be a beloved babyface, and it was just mildly amusing that he was a flat-earther in real life. Then he turned heel, and then he caught heat for complaining about face masks during the pandemic. So I'm pretty sure any goodwill Gordon had with the fans is gone by now. I don't see much upside in giving him the win now; pushing EC3 is the better bet for ROH.

Jay Briscoe & Mark Briscoe vs. PJ Black & Brian Johnson - I guess the Briscoes were having some issues but they've worked them out, so they're back in the hunt for the tag team title. Meanwhile Johnson seems to be getting frustrated under the mentorship of Black, and they're regrouping by making their own tag title run. Presumably the story of the match is that both teams want to be back on the same page, but only one of them really is. Pretty sure the Briscoes win this one.

Josh Woods vs. Silas Young - This is a "last man standing" match, so the match can only end when one participant is on the ground and cannot stand up again before the referee's ten-count.

Woods became Young's protege all the way back in September 2019, forming a tag team called, uh, "2 Guys 1 Tag." Right from the start I didn't expect that to last very long. But as it happened, what with the pandemic and all, Young didn't turn on Woods until March 2021.

You'd assume the point of all this would be to have Young put Woods over and establish Woods as a rising star for ROH's future. But it feels like every time ROH sets up something like this, they have the bitter old bully win to get heat. By the time they set up a rematch for the face to finally get vindication, I've usually given up and lost interest, which defeats the purpose of dragging the story out so long.

Demonic Flamita vs. Rey Horus - This is scheduled for the pre-show. Flamita, Horus, and Bandido were all in a trio called Mexisquad up until Flamita snapped and turned on the other two. Now he's "Demonic Flamita." I'm guessing the idea here is to give Flamita an impressive victory here to build up Bandido vs. Flamita to be a bigger deal.

PCO & Danhausen vs. The Beer City Bruiser & Brawler Milonas - This is also scheduled for the pre-show. PCO is basically a wrestling Frankenstein monster, but he's also Qubecer Pierre from the WWF in 1993, which still blows my mind. Danhausen is sort of like if Conan O'Brien played a character on What We Do In The Shadows. I like the idea of these two teaming up, and I hope it goes somewhere beyond prelim matches. I think the Bouncers (Bruiser and Milonas) turned heel when I wasn't paying attention, but that wouldn't be hard since I never pay attention to them. They should be easy pickings for PCOhausen.

[newtafterdark]

Taste of Metal - Chapter 11: A Closet Full of Memories AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/66510040 What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him?But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the “Metalhead Gordon AU”

- -

“Okay, run this by me one more time, so I can be 100% sure this won’t wreck my apartment beyond all recognition.”

 Gordon stood beside Tommy, the papers G-Man had given him days prior in his hand.

 “W-Well, we just need to find something in your apartment that can be accessed through a door or something similar… a-and then Benrey and I can start working on the pocket dimension inside it! It is completely safe for everything a-and everyone outside of the pocket dimension, I promise!”

Earlier, Tommy had sat down the entire Science Team to explain what the papers were that G-Man had given to Gordon a few days prior.

 As it was clear that their entire group that they only felt safe when all of them were in close proximity to each other, so finding a way to have them all live comfortably closeby was really the only option that could work for them in the long run. 

 Apparently, in G-Man’s mind, that meant that some part of Gordon’s apartment would become the entryway to pocket space. Which in turn would basically be an extension of the apartment where the other members of the Science Team could create rooms and spaces as they pleased.

 “So… if something goes haywire in there, like an explosion-”

 “- it wouldn’t affect your apartment!”, Tommy confirmed.

 Gordon ran his hand through his hair in thought. This… didn’t seem like a too bad idea in all honesty, but he couldn’t help worry about the Science Team’s track record of somehow even turning the best ideas into pure chaos. 

 Eventually, he sighed and gave Tommy a nod, giving the papers to him and putting his hand on the taller man’s shoulder for emphasis.

 “Alright. I will trust you with this. Just… please make sure it’s absolutely safe for everyone? And my apartment walls? This is drywall, man, not Black Mesa’s almost laser-proof tiles.”

 Tommy beamed at him, bouncing on his heels in excitement-

“I will not only make sure this is OSHA-approved but also Science Team proved!”

 Gordon smiled softly up at him, patting his shoulder gently-

“Tommy, you’re a godsend. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without you, bud.”

A quick search for a fitting area later, they decided that Gordon’s storage closet would be the best option. 

 For one, it wouldn’t look suspicious to his landlord. Additionally, should they ever decide to move elsewhere, they could simply take the closet with them and avoid whatever having to “de-install” a pocket dimension entailed.

 The only thing they had to do at this point was simply emptying out the closet before they got to work.

 Gordon carefully opened the doors and assessed the situation with a hum and furrowed brows. There were some things he would have to find new places for… and a lot of stuff he’d probably just bring to nearby thrift stores and the local Goodwill.

 He almost jumped as he felt Benrey lift his arm and poke his head through under it to catch a glimpse at the closet contents as well.

 “Oh, nosey much?”, Gordon asked with a smirk, looking down at the guard.

 “Gotta make sure you don’t- uh, steal anything.”

 “From my own closet?”

 “Yeah, ‘cause that looks like quality loot to me. Lots of mystery boxes. Minecraft Lucky Blocks.”, Benrey said with a nod.

 “Oh, those? That’s mainly stuff from my MIT days. Lecture folders and all that-”

 Gordon pushed the leather jackets and winter coats on the rack aside to give Benrey a better view and access as he motioned at him to help him carry the boxes into the living room. 

 “- but I guess there’s also a lot of B.V.R. stuff in here too...”, Gordon added.

 Darnold, who was currently watering Gordon’s (only slightly) neglected house plants, turned towards them with a questioning look on his face. He quickly walked over to where Benrey placed the stack of boxes on the floor, the plants forgotten for now.

“B.V.R…? What does that stand for?”, he asked.

 Gordon smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 “Remember when I said that I didn’t really get to tell you guys much about my interests during the simulation? Well… uh, this is one of them. The biggest, honestly...”

 Benrey picked up the box on the top of the stack and looked it over. It appeared to be an old and worn shoe box. It was covered in what seemed to be stickers of band logos he had seen around the apartment already… aside from the ones that read “BVR” and-

 “...”Black… Velvet Rabbits”...”, he read off the box. Suddenly, it was if someone had finally figured out which way the battery went into his brain to activate a thought process, as he connected the dots. 

 Gordon liked music, judging by all the countless band posters on the walls, even if he had yet to share what their tunes sounded like. 

 Gordon could play different types of guitars. 

 Gordon also had said that he hadn’t played on any of them “in a while”.

 And now this old box was exclusively covered in band stickers-

Benrey's head snapped up un-naturally fast to stare at Gordon with wide eyes. 

 “Yoooo… Gordo was in a band? Gordon... Musicman?”, he whispered out in a slightly unbelieving tone.

 Before Gordon could even attempt a reply, Bubby yelled from his spot on the couch-

“WHAT?! NO! Now you’re just bullshitting us!”

 “That would be several big boxes full of bullshit, dear!”, Dr Coomer countered as he looked at the stack in question from the doorframe to the kitchen.

 “What are we yelling about?”, Tommy threw in as he opened the door to the balcony from the outside, looking in with Sunkist and a peacefully sleeping Joshua in his free arm.

 Gordon let out a nervous chuckle at the entire scene-

“My band-past, apparently.”

 He then ran a hand through his hair, fluffing it up and ruffling through his slightly out-grown undercut to psyche himself up-

 “ALRIGHT! Time to dive right into this, I guess. Let me open these...”

 It took a box cutter and several backseat comments on how to open a taped box properly, but eventually, Gordon managed to get each of the six boxes open. He attempted to open the one covered in band stickers as carefully as possible, but as he pulled the lid open, several old polaroids and concert tickets fell out regardless. He silently cursed himself for having absolutely overstuffed the thing with memorabilia in the past. 

 He picked up one of the photos carefully, while the Science Team got closer to him to look at the other contents with high interest. 

 Bubby pulled out two seemingly hand-printed t-shirts. The print on each depicted a simplified front-facing head of a rabbit with ear piercings, lightning bolts at the side... and under all that calligraphy-like font reading “Black Velvet Rabbits”.

 Meanwhile, Darnold was intently scanning the concert tickets. A good chunk of them were from big and small cities in America, but there were also a few European ones. Berlin specifically popped up several times. 

 Tommy and Dr Coomer were fascinated by the amount of seemingly random tiny items in the bottom of the box - Safety pins of varying sizes, bottle caps, empty lighters with sharpie writings on them, an ungodly amount of mismatched guitar picks, a pair of plush cubes, numerous cassette tapes and CDs, two pocket knives, patches, buttons, several pieces of steel jewellery… and a tooth??? 

 While that was happening, Benrey had carefully picked up each of the polaroids that had tumbled out of the box. 

 Looking at them, he could make out that they were probably taken at concerts. Several of them were blurry either due to poor lighting conditions or the photographer moving… or both.

 Some were of several people in dimly lit backstage areas… others of the same people in other spots, smiling, laughing, hanging out with food and drinks… and playing and tuning their respective instruments.

 Benrey counted at least four people… plus the person he couldn’t mistake for anyone else.

 He looked up from the polaroids in his hands and over to the one Gordon was still staring at.

 On that one, standing on a small stage, tightly gripping a guitar and leaning into the microphone as he seemingly yelled into it… was Gordon. A slightly younger Gordon, but unmistakenly the man beside him.

He leaned over more to get a better look, his helmet bumping gently against Gordon’s arm in the process.

Most of what wasn’t completely in-focus was blurry... but Benrey could still make out the shine of a leather jacket, leather pants, heavy boots… and oh FUCK- okay, he was absolutely staring at this photo like a cat high on catnip now but he could not give two shits - the hair. Long and curly and 100% a sidecut that had been dyed an obnoxious orange. There was a shine of snake-bite piercings… and the hint of more piercings on the visible ear.

Gordon shifted slightly beside him, smiling at the photo.

“I think I still have most of the piercings… somewhere in these boxes. Black Mesa didn’t like seeing me wearing any to work, but you know… we’re not going back there anytime, so…”

Benrey needed to say something. Anything. 

He had no idea what, but this was worth so many words-

“Awooga.”

Gordon instantly let out a sudden loud laugh, followed by a wheeze as he bent slightly over, holding his stomach-

 “Really?? “A-Awooga”??”, he asked in disbelief, yet still smiling.

 “Yeah, dude. Like… uh.. uuuuh...”, Benrey started, but it seemed like he couldn’t quite figure out how to exactly end his sentence. A stream of pink Sweet Voice escaped him before he quickly covered his mouth with his hands.

 Gordon chuckled at that and patted Benrey’s helmet.

 “‘s all good, man.”

 He looked over to the rest of the Science Team, blinking in surprise as he saw that Tommy and Dr Coomer had picked out the cassette tapes and CDs and placed them on the table.

“Would you mind if we listened to some of your old tunes, Gordon?”, Dr Coomer asked as he held up one of the CDs. That specific one was labelled “First Band Practices with the Rabbits - 2012”.

 “As long as no one comments about my inability to grow a proper beard back then-”

 “You tried anyway, didn’t you?”, Bubby asked with a smirk.

 Gordon inhaled deeply, looking contemplative for a second before replying-

 “Look... I had only been on T for about 2 years when we founded BVR. This-”, he pointed at his current full beard- “- takes time.”

 “A-And for some people it doesn’t get easier over time either, Bubby! That’s why I personally stay clean-shaven!”, Tommy added with a nod before he looked over to Gordon with a bright smile. 

 Gordon looked at Tommy with surprise, but quickly beamed and tapped his hand rapidly against his thigh in excitement.

 “YOOOOO!!! NO WAY!!”, he exclaimed.

 “Yes way!”, Tommy confirmed, followed by a soft giggle.

 Darnold raised his hand with a shy smile. 

“Same hat.”

 Coomer stood up a bit straighter, patting Gordon on the back.

“Gordon, you’ll find that no one in our group of friends falls under the label of “cisgender”!”

 “Yup.”, Benrey added, popping the “P” loudly- “You’re good. Not gonna pick on the stuff your body was still getting a hang of. Your tunes though? Those are gonna get the full, uh, the full IGN rating.”

 Gordon let out a soft breath he didn’t know he was holding.

 “You know what? Yeah, put that in the stereo! You can also help me sort through… well, all this.”, he said with a chuckle, looking down to the remaining boxes beside him.

 Looking back up, Gordon saw that each member of the Science Team was fiddling with one or two smaller items from the shoe box. He let out a short amused huff as he smiled at the scene before him.

 “Oh, and If you find anything you like, you can keep it! That also goes for the leather jackets-”

 Gordon barely moved fast enough to avoid Bubby as he scrambled to get to the closet first, closely followed by Benrey.

 Gordon called after them with a laugh-

 “OH MY GOD! THERE ARE ENOUGH FOR EACH OF YOU AND THEN SOME, YOU HEATHENS!”

[willow-salix]

Day 16 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

I went into lecture mode today and for good reason. Those little sods that John calls his brothers are evil I tell you, pure evil, more evil than they claim me to be.

“What are you watching?” I asked. I’d just had a nice, relaxing bath and wandered into the lounge in search of some company and attention and maybe a cuddle or two with anyone that was available. But no, they were all camped out in the lounge, watching a movie and ignoring me.

I did my usual, which was grab snacks and drop down in the middle of one of the Tracy piles and get comfy. Virgil obligingly lifted an arm for me to cozy up under and Alan stuck his hand in my pringles tub.

“What are we watching?” I asked again.

“Tangled,” Gordon answered. “It’s just started so you haven't missed much.”

“Isn’t that an old Disney movie?” I asked, wracking my brains to remember which one, because there had been millions, but in general we were all in agreement that the older ones were by far the best.

“Yeah, the one with the hair.” Ahh, yeah, that rang a bell somewhere in my brain. 

“You mean Rapunzel?” I thought back and the mists of time cleared, yep, I remembered it now. I'd watched it a few times when I was younger, it had been a favourite of a friend's sister and was always on when I visited. I hadn't thought about it in years. 

“Tangled,” Alan corrected me, like that really made a difference.

I shrugged and settled down again to watch, it would be nice to revisit some old memories. 

“She just stole that child!” Alan yelled a few minutes later.

“What do you expect?” Gordon said. “She’s gotta be a wicked witch, that’s what witches do.”

I raised an eyebrow at this but said nothing, it was hardly their fault that this was how the media had been portraying witches for hundreds of years. Something goes wrong and poof, there’s a witch, let’s blame her.

“You can tell she’s really evil because she’s so pretty,” Scott said, munching on a small stack of MY pringles that Alan had sneakily passed him because I’d banned Scott from eating any more.

“So it’s the pretty ones?” I asked, a slight warning tone in my voice that apparently none of them noticed. I could understand that this might be how they were brought up but surely they didn’t really think that, did they?

“Yep.”

“It’s always like that, Maleficent was pretty, so was the Evil Queen and the Enchantress in Beauty and the Beast. It’s the pretty ones that are the most dangerous, because they don’t look evil.”

“So, by this logic all witches are evil?”

“Well, duh, they’re the bad guys,” Alan drawled.

“Good to know,” I snapped, dragging myself up from the couch.

“Where are you going?” Virgil asked when I ducked out from under his arm. “Don’t you want to watch with us?”

“No.”

They all looked at me, quite confused.

“I have no real desire to sit here and be insulted, thank you.”

“Insulted? No one insulted you,” Scott said, clearly bemused by my statement, but wasn’t that just the way of it? I didn’t bother replying, just turned away and headed for the door, dodging past John who was coming up the stairs as I started down them.

“Hi, did you forget something?” he asked.

I shook my head and carried on down the stairs.

“Aren’t you staying for the movie?” he called after me.

I didn’t answer, honestly I was too annoyed. What I needed was a long walk to clear my head. I’ll let John continue the story.

                            ***

I’m used to being ignored, but never by my own wife unless I had done something to annoy her, and in this instance I was pretty certain that I was in the clear. That left only one culprit, actually, make that five culprits.

“What did you guys say to her?” I asked as soon as I entered the lounge.

“Nothing,” they all chorused, all looking so perfectly innocent.

“Really?” I didn’t believe them for a second.

“Really,” Virgil assured me. Him I was inclined to believe so I tried another tactic.

“Talk me through what happened?” I sighed, setting down my coffee and taking a seat, giving them my best ‘don’t lie to me’ look.

“Honestly, we didn’t do anything,” Scott said. “We were watching the movie, she came to join us and asked about the movie so we told her.”

“What movie is it?” I asked, glancing at the screen but not recognising it.

“Tangled,” Alan supplied.

“So you only talked to her about Tangled?” 

“Yeah, that and a couple of other movies,” Gordon shrugged. “She was fine.”

“She didn’t look fine just now,” I argued. “Did she say anything before she left that might give me a clue? Because I’m kinda flying blind here.”

“Nothing,” Alan said. “Only something ridiculous about not wanting to sit here and be insulted.”

“You insulted her?” I sighed. “What the hell? I left you alone for precisely 4.36 minutes and you managed to insult her so much that she stormed off? What did you say to her?”

“Nothing!” Scott insisted.

I turned to Virgil for help.

“They were talking about how that lady,” he paused and pointed at the screen.

“Mother Gothel,” Gordon supplied.

“Thank you. How Mother Gothel," he continued," must be a witch because she stole the child and is pretty.”

Ah, that made a little more sense, well, some of it, part of it was still confusing the hell out of me and that doesn’t happen that often. I am not easily confused. “Because she was pretty?” 

“Yeah, like we told her, all of the pretty ones are the really wicked witches, you can always tell.”

I dropped my head into my hands, unable to believe just how insensitive and dumb they could be sometimes. I knew that they loved her as one of our own and wouldn’t insult her on purpose,  but if they actually used their brains occasionally they would be dangerous. 

“So, let me get this straight,” I started. “You told my wife, my decidedly not ugly wife, who happens to be a witch, that witches are always evil, especially the good looking ones?”

“No, we-” Scott paused as it sank in. “Oh, God.”

“Yes,” I agreed. 

“We didn’t mean it about her!” Gordon protested.

“We wouldn’t think that,” Alan agreed.

“My wife, who is here to help us all, giving up her free time when she could be relaxing in her own home, where I could be with her I might add,” I looked at them pointedly. “The wife, who is nothing but nice and loving to you, you insulted her.”

“Not on purpose.”

“I didn’t,” Virgil said, lifting an arm. “I was her pillow.”

“You are excused,” I nodded. “The rest of you will wait until I’ve found her and then you will make it up to her.”

I got up, still shaking my head at just how insensitive they had been and went to find her.

                                           ***

It was Kayo that tracked me down first, well, kinda. I was walking one way along the beach and she was running the other, we kinda just met up in the middle.

“S’up?” she asked, pausing in her jogging. Me, I was slow walking, meandering, like a snail with luggage. I’d started off power walking under the power of pure annoyance but now that had faded to be replaced by hurt feelings and with it had vanished my motivation for anything exercise based.

“Nothing much,” I answered.

“I thought you’d be in there with the others," she said."They wanted to watch some disney cartoon so I thought I’d get some training in, this enforced down time can be terrible for the fitness levels.”

I made a noise that could be agreement but was also pretty non-committal, I knew that giving her too much encouragement would have her trying to make me train with her again. Once was enough, I almost died.

“You’re not normally this quiet, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m just a bit annoyed, that’s all,” I said, brushing away her concern.

“What did they do this time?”

“Nothing.”

“Rubbish, I don’t believe you, plus I know they are idiots, so…”

“They were just a bit insensitive, that’s all…”

“And?”

“And insulting.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “And what are you going to do about it?”

I waved a hand, gesturing to the beach. “I’m walking it off.”

“No, you’re going to go back in there and give them hell. Don’t let them get away with it. They won’t know what they have done wrong unless you tell them, and if they don’t get it after that you smack them until it sinks in.”

I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh, having a mental image of her sitting on Gordon to hold him down while I slapped at him.

“That idea has merit,” I conceded.

“Of course it does,” she continued to jog on the spot. “Are you coming back now or are you going to walk a bit longer? You could join me if you want?”

“Nah, I’m good thanks,” I flopped down on the sand. “I’m just going to sit here for a bit and watch the water.”

“Your loss,” she shrugged. “But remember what I said, make them listen, make them understand, whatever it takes.”

“Violence isn’t the answer to everything, Kay,” John said, appearing from a nearby path, his comm in his hand, obviously locating me with sneaky methods.

“Maybe not for you,” she tossed over her shoulder as she broke out into a run again, not bothering to say goodbye.

“You OK?” he asked, sitting down beside me.

“Yep, why does everyone keep asking me that? Can’t a wit- girl get some air without everyone launching an inquiry?” I said, correcting myself before I finished the W-word.

“A witch,” he said pointedly, “can do whatever she wants, but her husband has the right to be concerned when he finds out that his dumbass brothers have insulted her.”

I shrugged, not wanting to drag it all up again.

“They’re sorry,” he said, draping his arm around my shoulders to pull me into his side. “They didn’t mean it, they just weren’t thinking.”

“I know they didn’t mean it, well, not about me personally,” I sighed. “But that’s just how it is. Witches always get the bad rap. They wouldn't understand.”

“Then tell them, explain it to them.”

“Do you have any puppets?” I joked, leaning my head against his shoulder. “Because they might need it simplifying a bit, they are quite dumb.”

“No puppets I’m afraid, but I do have brothers that are very sorry and want you to come back so they can apologise.”

“Virgil is innocent.”

“Yeah, he said as much.” He dropped a kiss on the top of my head and stood up, offering me his hand. “Come on.”

I stared at his hand for a few moments, both trying to decide if I felt up for explaining and just because I liked to look at his hands. Finally I reached out and took it, letting him pull me to my feet.

                  ***

“We are so sorry!” Scott said the second we entered the lounge. Kayo was already seated in a chair and was watching with the kind of interest someone would use while observing animals in a zoo. I'm surprised she didn't have popcorn. 

"Yeah, we didn't mean it, not about you, you're great," Alan added. 

"We'd never think you were evil," Gordon promised. 

"No, but you'd think it about others," I answered, not wanting to let them off too easily. I'd promised John and Kayo that I'd explain it to them and explain I would. 

"We live in a multicultural world," I began. "And the world has changed so much in the last hundred or so years. Now racism and intolerance is frowned upon and people are understanding that everyone is equal and valid regardless of race or religion, right?"

They all nodded, John included, although I don't honestly know why since he hadn't done anything wrong. 

"And if someone was to assume that a person was bad based on their religion that would count as intolerant?"

They nodded again. 

"It shouldn't matter what colour, race, culture or religion someone is, they should all be treated with respect, right?" 

"Obviously, we never discriminate, we'll save anyone that needs it, we don't pick and choose. Every life is valid," Scott said.

"Yet my religion is different?" 

"Of course not!"

"Then why is it that we're the ones that are always picked on? My religion is one of the oldest in the world, we date back before Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, pretty much any religion you can think of. But we've had thousands of years of persecution and intolerance, including being portrayed as the bad guy in almost every single fairy tale out there."

"We know you're not evil," Alan promised me. 

"I know you do, because you know me. But that doesn't change the fact that in modern media we are still used as a cheap, easy and believable villain. But does anyone ever think of it from the witches point of view?" 

They shook their heads, probably because they were now looking a little scared of me. 

"Let me tell you another version of this story," I said, gesturing to the movie that was paused on the holoprojector. 

John patted the seat between him and Virgil (who hadn't done anything wrong and was therefore safe to sit with) and I dropped down with a sigh. 

"Where to begin," I pondered out loud. "I'm not going to introduce anyone, I'm just going to dive straight in." I settled down, getting into storytelling mode. 

The wicked witch sat in her garden looking out over the rows of flower beds and her beloved vegetable patches that she was so proud of and sighed, a long, deep and very sad sigh.

She was getting on in years and was feeling lonelier with each passing day. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone, especially not the other witches round the cauldron. They were wicked witches and were expected to shun human emotions and feelings and just get on with their work, creating chaos, cursing newborn children and all the other things that take up your day. 

A small noise pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up, squinting in an effort to focus, her eyesight not what it used to be. She saw a man trying, not very stealthily, to climb over her garden wall. She stayed where she was, almost hidden from view and watched him, curious as to what he was planning.

He dropped to the floor with a grunt and a muffled curse. She tried not to giggle, it was so unwitch like, witches did not giggle, they cackled evilly as was expected of them. She watched the man as he looked around and slowly snuck his way towards her Rapunzel plants. She lifted one eyebrow at his daring. So that was where they were disappearing to, and to think she had blamed the slugs.

As she watched he bent to pick some of the tasty leaves and stuffed them into a sack he was carrying. Well this wouldn’t do, she was a wicked witch for pity’s sake, if word got out that it was OK for the villagers to enter her garden willy nilly and steal her greens she'd never live it down. It took a lot of work to cultivate the fear that was needed to get even the slightest bit of respect and she wasn't about to let all her hard work go to waste. 

She slowly stood up, ignoring the protest of her aching bones and raised her wand, casting a powerful binding spell at him. The man instantly froze and dropped to the ground, groaning, his limbs locked together. Taking her time the witch made her way over to the man.

“What do you think you are doing, creeping into my garden and stealing my vegetables,” she demanded to know, scowling at him, putting on her best scary witch face.

The man looked terrified, as well he should, his eyes bulging out of his head. 

“Please, don’t hurt me," he begged. “I meant no harm. It's my wife, she is expecting our first child and was desperate for some of your Rapunzel. She's been unwell and cannot stomach anything else, her cravings are something else. She threw a bowl at my head yesterday because I didn't get her any." Come to think of it, he did look a little weary. 

The witch’s brain kicked into gear. Maybe this was a way of still being wicked but getting what she wanted too. She'd done her best, she'd tried being nice, but as usual no one had listened to her when she had given them her dire warnings of crop blight and mad cow disease and when her predictions had inevitably come to pass, she'd been blamed for that too. Good guys never prospered when the world had already made up its mind about you.

With a wave of her wand she lifted her spell, allowing the binding to drop away, releasing the man.  When she spoke she made sure her face was as pleasant as possible, her voice sickly sweet.

“Is that so? Well that is completely different. If you need it for your wife, then of course you may take as much as you want. Help yourself,” she smiled gently , showing a number of her broken teeth, looking as innocent and old ladylike as possible. “I only ask for one thing in return.”

The man, looking very relieved, scrambled to his feet, his cap in his hands. “Of course, anything, I will do anything you wish of me, just name it and it shall be done, it shall be yours.”

The witch continued to smile as she dropped her bombshell, already picturing his reaction. That was the problem with the people of the world, they thought they could take whatever they wanted, preying on the good nature of others while never offering a thing in return unless they had no choice. 

“Oh, it’s only a little thing. In exchange for the Rapunzel that your wife needs to get through her pregnancy, you will give me the baby when it is born.” She stood back and watched with pleasure as his face drained of all colour and his mouth dropped open.

“I … no…I can't…you can’t,” he shook his head in denial.

“Oh, but I can, ” the witch replied. “You said you would do anything. The deal is made.” She used her powers to pick him up and drop him back over the garden wall.

The witch smiled, pleased with herself. Now that was truly wicked.

Months passed and soon the witch heard the distant sound of a baby crying from the neighbouring house. Impatient to see her new child she jumped on her broom and flew straight over.

Banging on the door she took immense pleasure from the look of horror on his face as well as his wife's.

Barging her way past him she scooped up the baby in her arms, cradling it carefully.

“I have come for what is rightfully mine. I hope you enjoyed your Rapunzel,” she told them, not giving them a chance to argue with her. 

Cackling evilly to keep up appearances, she hopped back on her broom and flew off with the child.

Years passed and the child, a little girl, whom the witch named Rapunzel after the plant that had caused all the trouble, grew into a beautiful young lady. 

The witch loved her like a daughter but knew that Rapunzel had never felt the same way about her. Being a wicked witch was not all it was cracked up to be, being mean all the time and doing evil deeds was draining, leaving her grumpy by the end of the day when she returned home to their little cottage. 

Having wicked friends who hated Rapunzel didn't help matters much either. They couldn't understand why the witch had wanted her, why she had wanted a child at all. Children were a nuisance, a bargaining chip to use against Kings and Queens or local villages, not for keeping like a pet. Stick with the cat, her friends had said, or a nice toad, that was the way to go. 

Unfortunately that meant that Rapunzel had to look after herself for the majority of the day. She spent a lot of her time daydreaming, reading story books about handsome princes who would whisk the princess away from the evil witch. The witch, who blamed herself for signing her up for the local library and allowing her a weekly visit into town, had begun to worry that the day would come that she would lose her.

Scared, she decided the time had come for more drastic measures. The witch created a tower which had no stairs and only one room, high up at the top with just one window. She flew Rapunzel up on her broom and left her there.

Every day the witch would visit her, calling up to the top of the tower, where the girl sat waiting.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, so I may climb without a stair.” She'd watch as Rapunzel wrapped her long braid around a hook on the window sill and let her hair drop to the ground.

Catching hold of the end, the witch would begin to haul herself up the side of the tower. Sure she could have flown up but in her advancing years she needed any exercise she could get and she'd always had a fondness for mountain climbing. 

Every time the witch visited Rapunzel she couldn't help but notice that the girl was getting sadder and sadder. Trying to help, the witch brought her little treats, like a kitten to keep her company, new books and lots of good things to eat that they could share. 

After a few weeks she began to see a change in her. Rapunzel looked happier, even laughing at the witch's attempts at a joke. Pleased that her gifts had helped the witch always left content in the knowledge that the most important person in the world to her was happy. 

One evening, a week or so into this new period of peace, saw the witch huffing and puffing her way up the side of the tower. Cursing all the sweet treats they had been eating that had caused her to put on a few too many pounds, the witch slowed to catch her breath, and heard Rapunzel muttering to herself.

“Owww, damn it, the prince doesn’t hurt when he climbs up.

The witch stopped dead and looked up, anger simmering through her blood. The Prince? There was a Prince now? Why was there always a Prince that came along to wreck the plans of hard working witches who just wanted to do their jobs and get home before the sun set? Was it too much to ask? 

She started climbing again and hauled herself in through the open window, flopping in an undignified heap on the floor. 

“What prince?” she demanded to know, getting to her feet and rounding on Rapunzel.

Rapunzel backed away, looking scared, something the witch hated to see. 

“The prince that comes to see me, ” she answered a goofy smile breaking out on her face. “He’s very handsome and said that he loves me.”

At her words the witch felt her heart break. Her fears had come true, she had lost her and to a Prince that no doubt seemed too good to be true but would inevitably hurt her girl. 

Well, she wasn’t going to take this lying down, she would protect her daughter if it was the last thing she did, even if it hurt her to do so, it was for her own good. Sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind. 

Blood boiling the witch threw herself at Rapunzel, grabbing a pair of scissors that was sitting next to Rapunzel's sewing work.

“We shall see about that.” The witch held her down and cut off her long braid. “You will never see that prince again.”

Still mad at the sheer cheek of the Prince and worried for her adopted daughter, the witch sat Rapunzel on her broom and took her to a lonely, desolate spot in a woods far away where a tiny cottage sat, with nothing but a cow and some chickens for company and left her there.

She was determined to teach the Prince a lesson, she was a wicked witch after all and it wouldn't do to let it be known that a Prince had snuck around with her daughter right under her nose and she'd done nothing. The witch went straight back to the tower and lay in wait for the Prince, certain that he couldn't keep away and would come back.

Soon enough she heard him calling out from the ground below.

 “Rapunzel, sweet beautiful Rapunzel, let down your hair, so I may climb without a stair.”

Cackling silently to herself as she looped the cut off braid around the hook on the windowsill, the witch let the hair slide from her hands down the side of the tower, unwinding as it went. 

She felt the prince beginning to climb up and waited, watching as his head eventually appeared in the window. Grabbing his shoulders before he could react and defend himself, she hauled him in through the open window.

The prince looked at her in shock but still tried to  reach for his sword.

“Where is Rapunzel?” he demanded. 

How dare he turn up to her tower, looking for her daughter and start throwing his weight around, making demands like he owned the place! The witch sneered at him, her lips twisting cruelly as she told him the truth.

“She is gone, and you will never see her again.”

"What did you do to her?" the Prince yelled, twisting out of her grip and succeeding in drawing his sword. 

For the first time the witch feared for her life, she wasn't a young witch and she'd left her wand in her other robe. Acting on pure instinct, needing to protect herself, and with offence being the best offence, she threw herself at the Prince. 

Catching him off guard, no one ever expected a flying witch, she planted her hands on his chest and with a great heave she shoved him away from her. 

The prince stumbled towards the window and almost in slow motion he toppled backwards out of the tower. 

Cursing the witch grabbed the windowsill and looked out, watching as he dropped like a stone to the ground, landing in a thorn bush. 

The Prince let out a blood curdling scream as the sharp thorns pierced his eyes, blinding him.

Ha! A wicked little voice piped up in her head, let him see her now, although she silenced it almost immediately. 

She watched as the prince stumbled away, clutching his face but, instead of pleasure at her actions she felt only pain, knowing that now she really had lost the one she had thought of as her daughter. 

"I have to make this right," she said to herself. All she had ever wanted was for Rapunzel to be happy and, from fear of losing her and wanting to protect her, the witch had only  succeeded in driving her further away.

Leaving the tower, the witch followed the prince, silently helping him, protecting him from harm, leading him towards Rapunzel.

Years passed, with the witch growing weaker and weaker by the day, travelling all over was playing havoc with her arthritis, until eventually the prince found Rapunzel again. 

She was living in miserable poverty, in her tiny cottage, scrounging for food in the woods. She was out in her garden, picking flowers when she happened to look up. Seeing the Prince wandering past, tapping his way along with a stick, a bandage over his eyes, she barely recognised him. He was filthy, his clothes almost rags and his hair unbrushed. But, when she did, her heart leapt with happiness. 

She rushed over to the gate, calling his name.

In a daze, the Prince turned his head in the direction of her voice, unable to believe his ears. He'd been living in darkness for so long he'd almost forgotten what it was like to feel joy. 

“Rapunzel?”

“Yes, my love, it's me!” she paused, seeing the bandages over his eyes up close. “What happened?” 

Gently she reached for the bandage, dodging his hands when he tried to stop her, and tugged the scrap of cloth from his face, gasping with shock when she saw his eyes staring blankly up at her.

The witch watched from behind a tree, still so deeply saddened that she had caused all this hurt simply because she was lonely and no one would give her a chance. From the moment she had been born as a witch her destiny had been decided for her. She hadn't wanted to be wicked, she just hadn't had a choice. It was expected of her. 

As the witch watched Rapunzel began to cry, her tears dripping down her face onto his. Smiling to herself, an idea forming, the witch waved her wand, giving Rapunzel the power of healing. As her tears dripped into his eyes, he blinked, his broken and scarred eyes clearing, to stare straight at her.

“I can see you,” he whispered, hardly able to believe it. 

"Really, truly?" 

He laughed, grabbing her tight. “Yes, I can really see you!”

With one last look the witch blew her beloved child a kiss and hopped back on her broom. Soaring into the air she left them behind, dancing with joy at their good fortune, knowing they would live happily ever after.

"The end," I said, finishing up my story. "What did you think?" 

"It was certainly different to any that I've ever heard," Virgil said when I was done. 

"That's the  point of the story," I said, wanting to hammer it home. "No one is born bad. Sometimes it's a vicious cycle, you know? People assume the worst of someone and they get judged, purely on who or what they are."

They nodded, having seen that at work before. 

"There is good and bad in all walks of life, in all countries and regions, it's not exclusive to one type of person. People get judged not on their actions as an individual, but on the actions of others, on falsehoods and stories spread about them," I continued. 

Seeing them all watching me and listening was a little hard. I loved them all, but they were used to me being my laughing, joking, happy self and in this I couldn't smile, I couldn't hide it inside and let it go. 

"When people assume the worst and make accusations it's only a matter of time before they get so fed up that they often end up doing the very things they have been accused of because they're just going to get blamed anyway. They will get treated like they are bad even if they aren't, so why keep fighting?"

I allowed John to take my hand, grateful for the comforting, supportive squeeze he gave it. 

"I know that you guys didn't mean anything you said in a negative way, I know you weren't directing it at me or even thinking of me that way. I know this is real life and not a movie, but the point is still the same. It's not your faults, because this is how you have been conditioned from years of movies that portray things like that. It's not just a silly movie it's history, it's happened with countless races and religions for hundreds of years, for as long as there has been books and propaganda and storytelling. There is always a bad guy."

I took a deep breath."Here's the thing, we have a duty, each and every one of us, to pay attention to the people around us, to think for ourselves and to judge people on their actions, on who they are not what they are. We all need to think before we speak, to consider who we might be hurting with our words and actions. In this you hurt me, because you didn't think, you just assumed and said what you've been taught to think. I know I probably took it way more seriously than I should have, but it hurt. And I can't apologise for my reaction." I shrugged, showing that I didn't have anything else left to say. 

"We really are sorry," Scott said, clearly feeling awful about what had happened. 

"Look, it's OK, I'm not blaming you, let's just forget it, alright? We'll watch the end of the movie and I'll stop being over sensitive," I said, just wanting it to be over. 

They all nodded gratefully and flicked the movie back on. I cuddled deeper into the couch between Virgil and John, wanting to relax. I'll probably make John finish the rest of today's entry too. 

          ***

"So she wasn't a witch after all?" Alan goggled, clearly unable to believe what they had seen. I wasn't surprised, he'd always been easily surprised and easily impressed, ever since he was a baby. He was the one excited about his own toes. 

"Nope, just a vain woman that used a bit of magic to her advantage and, rather than give it up, she opted to steal a child," the wife answered. She hauled upset up from the couch and stretched, her back cracking in a couple of places and I made a mental note to see if she wanted a back rub later, she deserved it after the day she'd had. "I'm gonna make a start on dinner."

My brothers are indeed idiots, but I could see that they were feeling terrible about their actions. It hadn't been malicious, it had just been thoughtless. In that she had been right, they should have thought more about who was there and what they were saying, just as they did in the field. 

Scott was the first to get up, catching her as she walked past, dragging her into a hug that the other two quickly joined in on, squashing her in the middle. 

"Can't…breathe," she whined but they ignored her, hugging her tighter. 

"We love you," Alan said from his spot squashed somewhere near Scott's left armpit. I wouldn't want to be there but if anyone deserved it right now it was him. 

"I love you numpties too."

"Forgive us? We promise we'll never assume anything ever again," Gordon promised. 

"I'll go out and get Chinese for dinner," Scott added to sweeten the pot and this time she actually laughed. 

"Deal."

"You gave in too easily," Kayo accused as she left the room to go and get changed. "I'm disappointed in you."

"Well, unfortunately I love these idiots so I didn't have much of a choice."

"So you say," Kayo shot back, but I could hear the smile in her voice. 

Everyone wandered off and I reclaimed my wife, pulling her back down onto the couch beside me. 

Honestly I was kinda impressed with how calm she'd stayed. She'd made her point and made it well, without the need to yell or throw things, which was a vast improvement to most arguments in this house. 

They had needed to hear it, they had listened and hopefully they had learned a little something, I know I certainly did. 

Note to self: when she's next mad at you, get Chinese food. 

[skelebells]

retail au fic

under the cut!

Disclaimer i have somehow managed to never work retail so im pulling all this out my ass if you actually know whats up and want to tell me how i fucked up and could fix it please do!

Gordon Freeman had hit something of a dead end in his life. It hadn’t started like that, though, he’d been on a great path since high school- he got accepted into and graduated from MIT with a degree in theoretical physics, been immediately promised a job at some mysterious, prestigious sounding-place called Black Mesa, moved to a nice apartment in a city in New Mexico to be closer to the job, had everything set up to succeed, and then- well, he wasn’t entirely sure what happened.

He had been half an hour in what was going to be his daily commute, leaning against a cool window as the fancy air conditioned bus wound its way into the desert. He might have fallen asleep if not for the anticipation of a new job- and, just as he started to relax, he picked up the smell of smoke. He looked up, suddenly concerned, but the bus driver seemed to not have noticed. Gordon put his face to the glass and tried to see any signs of impending disaster- was that the military?

Sure enough, a makeshift roadblock of several heavily armed tanks and sweating soldiers stopped the bus. One of them marched aboard and muttered something dangerous-sounding to the bus driver, who nodded. One of the other passengers- an important-looking man in a white coat with a briefcase, as all important scientists seemed to wear- was escorted (borderline dragged) off the bus, before it turned and started to head back up the road, the wheels spinning up sand as they pulled away.

Gordon snapped around and stared out the back window. Past the roadblock, obscured by dust and billowing clouds of smoke, was the source of that smell. That probably used to be Black Mesa, he figured, not quite processing what he was looking at. The military was shooting into the smoke clouds laced with dancing threads of electricity, and he could hear screams, both human and… not. 

He stared at the clouds and the rubble of his future until it disappeared into the horizon, as the bus sped further and further away.

He got home and tried endlessly to call someone who might know what the hell happened, but he got no response. He couldn’t find any record of Black Mesa online, anywhere. He was jobless, apparently.

Every job application he submitted to other scientific institutions got turned down with no explanation, and every interviewer clammed up once he mentioned Black Mesa. Well- shit, then. With any sense of a bright and scientifically intriguing future fast disappearing, he applied to some soulless chain supermarket after taking his degree and his acceptance to Black Mesa off his resume, and got the job within the week.

Fantastic.

The next couple of months went by in a mindless blur of unremarkable to unpleasant customers and minimum wage, and Gordon was feeling a sort of dread setting in that the rest of his life was going to be like this. ‘Your college degree was for nothing and you are going to waste away selling gum to teenagers with better lives than you’ something told him, and it was hard not to listen.

It was in one of these late, quiet afternoon moods, mindlessly restocking within sight of the entrance, where he first saw one of Them. The sliding doors parted and a tall, skinny man in a bright yellow shirt walked in, golden retriever on leash and pushing an empty shopping cart.

Gordon looked up and opened his mouth to say something about no dogs being allowed in the store, and stopped. First off, it was a service dog, so that was fine, but said dog was huge. Sitting down, it looked like it would be about six feet tall, about the same height as Gordon. 

‘Uh, what the fuck?’ he blurted, all regulations forgotten.

The tall man looked over at him and blinked. ‘Hi!’

‘...uh, hi! Why- why’s your dog so big, man??’

‘Oh- this is Sunkist! He’s- he’s the perfect dog,’ the man declared cheerfully. He and his dog walked up to the drink section just behind Gordon, and began loading several various sodas, both in packs and loose cans, into his trolley. The- the dog had a litre bottle of Mountain Dew held in its mouth. Okay. Sure.

‘Hi, Sunkist,’ Gordon said weakly, and decided not to press the issue. He wasn’t paid enough to try and figure out how or why this dog was so fucking giant. Instead, he stood and watched, entranced and with a growing sense of insanity for the e it took for the seven or so minutes it took both dog and man to drag roughly 50 litres worth of soda into the trolley and started to wheel it over towards the checkout.

‘Hold on,’ Gordon called out, suddenly very curious about this man with his lethal amount of soda and his terrifyingly huge dog. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Tommy Coolatta!’ the man said brightly, and squinted at the name tag on Gordon’s chest. ‘Uh… Gordon Freeman. N-nice to meet you!’

‘Yeah, that’s- that’s me. Nice to meet you too, Tommy,’ Gordon said, feeling himself retreat into customer service mode from the bizarreness of it all. His name was fucking Coolatta?? He was done. He started back on restocking his shelves and glanced periodically over to Tommy and Sunkist at the checkout. Ah, Darnold was at that till. Gordon had never spoken to the man much but apparently he liked soda, judging by the enthusiastic conversation the two seemed to be having. Ten entire minutes later, the soda was scanned and paid for and bagged, and the two left and walked off down the street. Sunkist seemed to be carrying two of the plastic bags in her mouth.

‘What the fuck,’ muttered Gordon, once they were out of sight. He’d had unusual weird or creepy customers before, of course he had, but this was a new level. Fuck this job. He had no idea what to make of the encounter.

The next few days went by without much of an event. Tommy slipped into the background of his memory and Gordon fell back into his normal, boring, working routine. 

Until, like a purposeful slap in the face from the universe, the store was robbed. Or at least he was pretty sure that was what happened. 

He had taken to playing solitaire in the empty hours of the store (which were most hours, in this gloomy late autumn). It was a normal and productive game for someone his age. He was doing puzzles to challenge his brain, fuck you. Maybe twelve games in a row was a getting a little sad, but- 

His cards spontaneously combusted.

He yelled and reared back from the counter but before he could even process what the fuck just happened the window- the large display window next to the accessible, already opening sliding doors- was shattered by some large thrown projectile.

Oh god, that was a guy, what the fuck- there was a- an old man in a lab coat? Sprawled out on the floor in the broken glass of the window and- cackling, and a second, shorter guy with- with a sleeveless lab coat, what the fuck-

and that is all folks

mad i lost interest before i could write in benrey’s entrance but thats alright

if any of yall want to take this and continue it or whatever please do!

[mauserfrau]

Bordertober - Time For Two, Part 1

Tyreen’s view of waking up at Dr. Black’s.  Contains medical/injury material, Tyreen being gross and some vaguely hinted at Troyreen.  Note that Part 2 is shaping up to be more obvious about this.  Probably nothing graphic, since I’m planning to recut all of the Dr. Black shorts into a single story.  Oh, and I put her H/C post at the bottom.

Waking up at Dr. Black’s had been embarrassing more than anything else.  She’d had no idea where she was the first few times she came around.  There were now two holes in her torso and two in her right arms.  She couldn’t do anything for herself. Ugh-- that part was the worst.  Troy gave her a bath with fucking people wipes.  She got sacks full of doped up skag pups and chickens for food.  She did not get to toilet herself.  Nope, stuck in bed except for leg stretches twice a day, no complaints, ring the bell if you need anything. 

And then that woman, leaning over her, poking her with clamps and sounds because she couldn’t use her hands.  Well, it took the fever rolling off of her for Tyreen to take notice of it, but Dr. Black seems to keep all of her dexterity in those fingers of hers.  The rest of her had some mild form of dyskinesia, probably an old injury pretty far down her spine.  It happened to make her look like easy prey, but Tyreen figurds not devouring the person who procured her pain meds might work out better in the long run.

Meds meaning she slept a lot.  Actually, Tyreen wasn’t sure that she’d ever slept so much in her whole life.  She spent most of the days under for a few restless hours at dawn or dusk spent ticking over a third-hand ECHO and feeling her guts lurch at random as the moon smirked down the operating theater skylight.  She made it to the bottom of a music swapping forum she’d been eyeing and listened to old school synth jazz while reading Vonnegut or something called “Pirate AU Fanfiction” which she didn’t realize was derivative until she found the one starring Arthur Gordon Pym of all characters.

So it wasn’t like she was bored.  Hell, the weird thrum of her body knitting back together could have kept her occupied.

The stillness in her bones though ached worse than her bullet wound.

Tyreen sighed.  She ran her hand down her torso to the sore, bruised place trailing off from her entry wound.  She pressed ever so lightly until her belly twinged and her toes curled.

This didn’t so much remind her of the fact she was going to be wearing a lovely S&S Munitions bullet for the rest of her life.  It reminded her of that other itch she couldn’t scratch, the one that was going to take talking instead of prowling to fix.

~*~

Dr. Black at least took hints.  Tyreen bitched at her about being woken up closer to noon than not exactly once.  Next time? Dawn hadn’t even cracked

She got her vitals taken and her bandages changed.  The IV came out and that was the only blood that leaked out of her that day.  Her wrappings still got all sticky and rheumy, but they weren’t brown anymore in that way that kind of made her want to suck on them.

So, a lot of next times later, it finally happened: “Well, you’re healing up nicely if I do say so myself.  What do you want to do first?”

Weird.  Tyreen never asked Troy what he wanted to do when he started improving after a spell or a fall.  She squinted at Dr. Black.  “Is that a trick question?”

“Well, I don’t recommend BASE jumping for obvious reasons, but no?” Not that Dr. Black sounded sure of this.

“I need my hair washed.  That dry shampoo made it all sandy and shit.  Then I wanna go outside and, you know.”

“I’m out of chickens, sorry.”

Tyreen rolled her eyes.  She’d actually meant piss on a fence post and scope out the best vantages for ambushes, but she was getting hungry too, so of course the woman had to mention.  “Whatever.  Hair first.”

“Well, your brother and me already figured out how to do that since you’re still not cleared to shower because germ transfer.  Get ready.”

The two of them maneuvered her onto one of the rolling stools and pushed her into the kitchen rather than any of the bathrooms-- for a woman living alone, Dr. Black had at least three according to her hallway.

Tyreen’s impression of the kitchen was what it smelled of some unfamiliar grassy-brown spice and eggs.  Most food didn’t tempt her anymore, but there was something about the whiff of a runny yolk that got her tongue to stir.  Anyway, the stainless steel sink had been scrubbed out and Tyreen knew where this was going.  She groaned.

She’d been all of four the last time anybody washed her hair for her, let alone in a sink.  Sink salons were for babies.

Troy’s hand rested on her shoulder.  “It’s just for a couple of times.  What else have I been doing for you? And did the world end, Ty?”

“Fine.  I want two washes and extra gooey stuff.” She meant conditioner, but she flicked her tongue over her lips pronouncing it gooey stuff like a drunk her.

Troy blinked way too hard, but he nodded and finished wheeling her over.

So much for innuendo getting her anyplace today.  He was probably stuck in his own head for a change.  Contemplating caring for her.  Like it was… like it was that big of a deal after all the trash that had happened.   

Just like when they worked on her, Dr. Black handed over the equipment and he used it, though this time, easy on the instructions.  

Troy bundled her up in a towel, wet her and worked the first round of shampoo in slow, scratching over the residue on her scalp and using the dish sprayer to double rinse.  The whole time he leaned over her, face tight with concentration.  He wouldn’t look her in the eyes and Tyreen couldn’t say she wanted him too, not even when he went for the wet/dry trimmer and neatened up her unintentional undercut.

“You want anymore off?” he asked the window and not her.

“Just get the really messed up part in the back.”

“OK, turn.”

The hum of the trimmer felt kind of nice on her damp skin; that and the way he combed his fingers over her fuzz after, even though the next spritz got her free of snibbles, would have without his intervention.

For the conditioner, he let that set and combed her out, streaking the remains of her bangs down her forehead, then rubbing them away from her eyebrows when they got too close.   

Tyreen sighed up at him.

Since she caught his eyes, he did manage something resembling a smile and his fingers dragged against her for the last round of rinsing.

With him and her both patted dry, she finally got hoisted back to a sitting position, her hair dropping once more down her cheeks before she reached up, scruffing it out and sneezing by some coincidence.

Dr. Black stifled a laugh.

Dr. Black

Dr. Black was a small, fat woman with a crooked jaw and a crooked smile and a penchant for wearing hoop skirts with no panties underneath. 

-Says her full name is Calvin Decker Black

-Has at least one ex-husband and is possibly using his name???

-Probably not a doctor, but close enough

-Good at working with what she has; absolute kludge queen

--Has an affection for out-of-date equipment, but can run almost any test off of her ECHO.  Somehow.  Don’t ask. ---Speaking of which, carries the Twin’s genomes around on hers and has heavily notated them.  Heaven forbid that got into the wrong hands.

---Recognizable ECHO device with a formal Delft print

--Sometimes uses medical equipment for secondary purposes, i.e. pointing with a sound, employing that nice steel vomit tray as a casserole

-Cheerful, enthusiastic, curious, bit of a spazz, insensible to gore.

--It’s possible to get her and Mouthpiece going at the same time.  Mind your eardrums.  

-Loves food.  Pretty good cook.  Rather more fond of food other people have prepared.

-No, she doesn’t eat her patients! Any human flesh stored in her fridge is from other people, you silly.

--Yeah, I can’t in good conscience recommend her ‘famous breakfast scramble’.

-What’s she doing in the CoV? She’s the person who walked Troy through patching up Tyreen after Satellite.  They couldn’t leave her running around after that.  Apparently joined their caravan without complaint and has been riding around with them ever since.  

-Has been known to dress up and give sermons or go out in the field for negotiations.  

--Ugh.  Torture takes so long.  Don’t make her do that.  We could have steak instead.  

-Is mostly still around for Troy mending purposes nowadays.

[fallenfurther]

Maintenance man

Post Series 1 Episode 11: Skyhook. This rescue did a lot of damage to two of the Thunderbirds, with Virgil having to be flown home in a limping Thunderbird Two. At least his brothers are willing to come to his rescue. Enjoy!

**********

Brains deflated as he looked at the readings on his monitor. He loved the Tracy boys and maintaining the machines he’d designed was still one of his favourite things to do, but he was only one man. There was some serious electrical damage to Thunderbird Two, Thunderbird One’s engine needed to be checked over just in case the sprites or low oxygen levels had damaged the metal, and then there was the inevitable damage Thunderbird Five had taken. Thunderbird Two would have to be done first as it required most frequently. Brains was always a little on edge when Thunderbird Two was out of action, jumping at every emergency call and hoping the specialised equipment only Two could carry wasn’t needed. Thunderbird One wasn’t the highest priority as he knew there was likely to be very little, if any, damage, but Scott seemed to push her limits more often than Brains liked. A quick check, hopefully before the next rescue, would just settle Brains’ nerves and let him sleep peacefully. Thunderbird Five was the one that worried Brains the most. Although not required directly for rescues, it contained and sustained John Tracy. Space was a dangerous place and John had just pushed the space station beyond her intended purpose. There could be so much unseen and subtle damage that only a good inspection would pick up. He would send a request to Scott to call John down for safety reasons, though they might have to send Alan up to retrieve him. Brains’ didn’t want to risk the space elevator until he had thoroughly checked it. Today it had been tested beyond its design and unlike Langstom Fischler, he cared for safety.

Pulling up the Thunderbirds flight plans and locations, Brains noted both were on their way home. Scott had managed to catch up and overtake Virgil and was due to get home much sooner. With Thunderbird Two’s front landing struts down and all controls being directed through the helipod, there was no way to get the rear two down. Thunderbird Two couldn’t land without snapping the struts. Brains could tell that Gordon was struggling to fly Two with the Pods controls, the erratic path the craft was taking being all the evidence Brains needed, but that also meant it would be even harder for him to land. Wracking his brain, a solution came to mind. Pulling up the island's controls, he set the automated trolley to pull the modules out of storage so that Module Two was in the centre of the vast cavern. A tap on his comm and Scott was floating before him. 

“I’m almost home, Brains.”

“I know. I need you to meet Alan at Module Two when you land. Gordon is in need of s-some assistance.”

“FAB.”

A quick motion with his hand, as the low rumble of the swimming pool retracting filled the room, and Scott was replaced with Alan. 

“Alan. I need you to head down to Module Two and prepare two elevator cars.”

“FAB Brains.”

Alan vanished in a flurry of movement and Brains moved to focus on some calculations before relaying the plans to Gordon, and subsequently Virgil, who was currently trapped in the cockpit. 

****

Scott jogged up to Module Two and headed inside. Alan waved happily from the seat of an elevator car and it didn’t take much thought to know the second one was for him. Alan’s grin contained a hint of mischief, setting off some brotherly alarm bells. Looking up at his car, he shook his head before climbing in. Of course Alan would be in the Master car! Once settled, a glance at his still grinning brother caused a smile to cross his own face. He wouldn’t begrudge Alan his moment today. Scott revved the engine, letting Alan take the lead as they headed out to the runway. It appeared that Alan was following the same instructions as he was, and drove the pod to the coordinates displayed on the dashboard. Here they waited, though Scott made a quick call to the GDF to give them a heads up about the report he was going to be submitting, including a complaint against Fischler Industries. He’d been happy to hear that they were already in the process of revoking his space operations permit. The sound of Thunderbird Two approaching caused Scott to end the call and turn his eyes to the sky. 

Thunderbird Two came into view, her movements looking more like that of a pod that a thunderbird. Sudden worry for his brothers rose from his stomach. He hadn’t realised how badly affected Two had been. He knew that Gordon was flying her from the helipod, making her virtually useless in a rescue setting, but he hadn’t realised how hard it would be to keep her straight. The fact that they had made it home was a relief. It also explained Brains’ plan. The elevator cars were going to become her new landing struts, just as they had tried to do for the Fireflash. At least this time Gordon could come in slowly, though it would still take some teamwork to land Thunderbird Two. Brians and Gordon both popped up before him, though surprisingly it was Brains who spoke first. 

"Okay, I'm going to  instruct Gordon down. Scott, Alan, you two need to be ready to move, but keep the cars in a low gear."

"FAB." Scott replied, noting Alan had spoken the same phrase a second behind him. 

"Okay, guys, this is not going to be the most graceful landing. You better do your best to not scratch her though, Virgil with a broken Two is bad enough."

"Let me worry about Virgil, you just concentrate on not snapping those struts."

Gordon gave Scott a grateful nod, before Brains took over, directing everyone. Gordon got a little frustrated towards the end but he visually deflated once Thunderbird Two was safely down. Scott had been required to move forward a little along with Alan, and the bounce and whump of Thunderbird Two hitting them had been a little unnerving, but the cars held and all was okay. Putting his car into park, he climbed out and waited for Virgil to manually override the underside hatch. A rather relieved Virgil stood on the runway before turning to look at the green behemoth above them with a sigh. 

"It's not that bad, Virgil." Gordon cheered, obviously not worried about retaliation. "It's nothing you and Brains can't fix. At least you don't have Fischler on board!"

They had all heard John's request for rescue, and now Thunderbird Two was safely grounded, they could spare Alan for a quick pick up. 

"Alan, think you could go retrieve Fischler and his crew from Thunderbird 5?"

"Sure Scott!" The excited teenager chimed before running towards Thunderbird There's silo. His younger brother's enthusiasm brought a much needed smile to his face. 

"Come on, Virgil." Scott placed a hand on the man's shoulder, "Let's get changes and grab some food before you tackle her. Let Brains do a diagnostic first."

"Fine." Virgil nodded, allowing Scott to drag him away, though Scott knew he'd be back as soon as he could. Virgil hated it when International Rescue wasn't ready to launch. It made them all edgy, more so when their Thunderbird was the reason for it. 

*****

Brains had packed all the supplies needed into Thunderbird Three. There were a few things that needed replacing, including some of the toughened outer glass. EOS's scans had confirmed Thunderbird Five required a few large repairs alongside some smaller ones John could do. Unfortunately, she found that the satellite's operations were unaffected and thus John stayed in orbit. Brains would have preferred to take Thunderbird Five out of operation temporarily but had to suffice with a later maintenance trip. It'd taken a few days to source the required parts, but Thunderbird Two and One kept him busy. Thunderbird Two had taken just thirty two hours to get ready for launch. There had been so many different aspects to check but with Virgil's constant help they had powered through it. Thunderbird One had taken under a day, and Brains only changed a few components which were due to be replaced in the coming months, saving him a future job. 

Now he was to take Thunderbird Five out of action for at least a day, and John was reluctant. Scott had put his foot down on the matter, but that wouldn't stop John from getting annoyed and grumpy if the work overran. Brains' seat clicked into place in Thunderbird Three and Alan started going through the launch sequence. It'd been a while since Brains' had been in space, much preferring to stay on the ground, particularly the island he now called home. Unfortunately, needs must and no one knew Thunderbird Five quite like its designer. He swallowed as the rumble beneath them began and soon he was in orbit. It had definitely been a while since he'd been in space, gagging and swallowing as space sickness took hold of his stomach. Every time. Every time he had to readjust. Alan continued on as if nothing had changed, guiding the ship towards International Rescue's satellite. Once docked, John welcomed them in, EOS following and watching his every move. EOS was incredible, but there was still something about her that set Brains on edge. He'd spoken to her before and knew she was using the camera to view the world, but in person it was unnerving. 

"Right, one of the outer screens needs replacing. Let's get in with that first as Grandma is available and it means we can be operational again sooner. EOS, I've backed you up, but you'll be offline when Thunderbird Five is powered down." 

"Thank you, John. I shall see you once the repairs are complete. I will start the shutdown protocol once you are aboard Thunderbird Three."

"Thank you, EOS. Sleep tight."

"I do not require sleep, John. I shall simply be powered down."

"It's a turn of phrase, EOS."

Brains watched as John shook his head before pulling on his helmet. The interaction between man and AI was not like anything he had been expecting. Pushing himself back through the airlock, Brains couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive about leaving the shutdown to the AI. 

*****

Brains' collapsed onto the sofa in his apartment with MAX watching his movements eagerly. He was tired, and the four days in space had been enough. They'd managed to get Thunderbird Five fully operational, apart from the space elevator, in a day and a half. Alan's help in passing tools and his ease of movement in zero-G helped immensely, allowing for a shorter down time. Living with EOS for the next two days had been an eye opener. Brains had been glad that she didn't end up following him around as he'd feared she would. She settled down and even helped him out a few times as he set about dismantling and repairing the elevator. Its bearings had taken a beating and although functional, Brains could not guarantee their reliability or function anymore. Fresh parts were given to the mechanism, a good layer of grease was applied and every inch of the cable was inspected and scanned for tears or breaks. To Brains' delight the cable was in perfect condition as the moving parts had taken the brunt on the force when retrieving the weather station. After a few test deployments, including sending down the broken and spare parts he hadn't needed, Brains was the first test subject. As expected, the ride was smooth and uneventful, just the way he liked it. Pleased with his work and happy all the Thunderbirds were in working order, he'd headed to his apartment for some much needed rest. His body was still adjusting to gravity, even a few days in space messed him up, but he was glad to be back Earthside with MAX again.

"We'll get started on that new project tomorrow, MAX."

Brains got familiar bleeps back as a response and a smile crossed his face. A glass of water floated before him and he took it. 

"Thank you, MAX."

Taking a sip his comm bleeped and Gordon floated before him. The man was in his uniform and was scratching his head in a manner that sent worry through Brains. 

"Uurgh...Brains. I think something has gone wrong with Thunderbird Four. You would mind having a look when I get back?"

"Of course, Gordon. W-what's your ETA?"

"Ten minutes, and thanks Brains, you're a lifesaver."

Brains turned to MAX, then back to the glass in his hand. So much for an early night. He drained the glass and headed to his lab, MAX on his heels. He might as well check the readings and get a head start on trying to fix whatever problem Gordon had found.

[cyberfacevoid]

The sex offender registry is the method in several nations designed to permit government agencies to keep track of the actions of sex offenders, including those who have finished their criminal sentences. In some jurisdictions, where sex offender certification may, enrollment is accompanied by residential speech request requirements. In some jurisdictions, registered sex offenders are subject to more limitations, including on housing construction. Those on parole or probation may remain dependent on limitations that do non refer to different parolees or probationers. Sometimes, these include (or have been suggested to add) limitations on existing in the manner of underage people (under this age of number), living in locality to a school or day care center, having toys or items directed towards kids, or using the internet. 

The website is offered as a community service by the United States Department of Justice. Using the website concerned members of the community get access to and may seek participating Jurisdiction websites open information regarding the existence of the position of offenders who, in most instances, have been convicted of sexually violent crimes against adults and kids along with specific intimate communication and other offences against victims who are children. The people will use the site to educate themselves about the potential existence of such offenders in their local communities. 

Sex offender registry came about after the death of a little girl named Megan, after her own neighbor had lured her into his own home and raped her. Jesse Timmendequas was the man who had killed Megan, he ended up having to serve his life in prison and was required to receive counseling. A month after Megan’s death, New Jersey passed a bunch of bills with the goal of helping the law enforcement identify any sex offenders in their jurisdiction. One of the bills that Jersey had passed required an establishment of a state wide sex offender register. Along with Megan’s law, we also have the Jacob Wetterling crime against children and sexually violent offender registration act, this requires the states to establish registries of sex offenders that have been guilty of sexually violent crimes agaisnt children. Overall, the Wetterling act requires all states to verify the addresses of each sex offender for exactly ten years along with requirig sexually violent offenders to verify their addresses for their whole life. When an individual is registering as a sex offender, it is mandatory that they provide their name, date of birth, social security number, photo of themselves, their address, and information about their offense. Failure to do so will result in having a criminal charge. 

The sex offender registration was created and with having notification laws put into place, many people believe tragedy could be prevented. Supporters for the sex offender registration argue that they provide internal and external control for the sex offenders. They also argue that these notification laws educate the public on the nature of the offenders crime and this can be useful if future offenses occur. These notification laws will not be the panacea to solve or eliminate sex offences. The sex offender registration do create social awareness and educate the parents and the community on the best way to protect their children against known offenders. However, others may argue that we should not have a sex offender registry and how the notification law may violate the sex offenders civil rights under the 5th, 8th, and 14th amendments. The double jeopardy clause of the 5th amendment disallows being punished twice for the same crime. They are also singled out under the notification laws which violates their rights under the 14th amendment’s equal protection. Critics suggest that sex offenders should not be treated more harshly than people who have served time for murder. The notification has been challenged under the 8th amendment on the basis that it is a cruel and unusual punishment. They should not continue to be judged by society for a past crime even if the crime was morally wrong. That is not justice, murderers take lives and when they are released do they have to register? No, instead they should have the resources for outside therapy and behavioral modifications to help better themselves. 

I agree with the position of having a sex offender registry. I believe having a sex offender registry and notification programs are very important for the public safety purposes. This is a system that is used for monitoring and tracking sex offenders along with following their releae into any community. This provides very important information about the convicted sex offenders to the local, the federal authorities, and to the public. The registration system can provide public safety, having this system is a tool for some people when they are trying to find an area to live. It also helps police in investigations trying to understand who a suspect is along with what the person has done in their past. This tool also provides the people to know where and who these sex offenders are, that way they are fully awear of their surroundings. Imagine not having a sex offender registry, lets say you are a parent to a seven year old child and you let them go outside by themselves to hang out with some friends from the neighborhood, but what you were not aware of was the new neighbor moving in right across the street. This neighbor is known for raping children, but is not registered as a sex offender, therefore you are unaware at the time. Being that you and everyone else in the neighborhood are unaware of a sex offender moving in, your child is reported missing, raped, and pronounced dead later. When all of this could have been avoided by knowing this person was a sex offender. Just being aware of surroundings can prevent so much disaster in one’s future. Even if the child is not pronounced dead, just the trauma itself that they have to carry with them for the rest of their lives can do enough damage. I personally would and could not bear to live with myself knowing me or someone close to me had to go through such a tragic event in their life. 

“No one wants to see a child being assaulted by a repeat offender, especially when it can be avoided” (Gordon, M. The pros and cons of sex offender registries). As I mentioned before, I feel that it is important to have a sex offender registration because it can help prevent any child from being raped or even killed. It will protect an entire community and families from any future harm. It is also important that the people know what the offenders are capable of  no matter how little or minor the crime may be. It is best to know who these offenders are, even though not all offenders are a threat to society they are still capable of causing harm. “I don’t care if they have to live under a bridge or if they have to live somewhere outside Florida,” Book said.

In other states, laws prohibit registrants from residing between 300 and 2,500 feet from a litany of locations, including schools, child-care facilities, playgrounds, parks, bus stops, youth centers, resident camp facilities, churches, ballparks, pools, athletic fields, “facilities where minors gather,” and the on-campus housing of any institution of higher learning. Some communities leverage these laws to banish sex offenders entirely. Strategically placed “pocket parks” can render entire cities off limits to registrants” (Zoukis, C. Sex Offender Registries: Common Sense or Nonsense?). I agree with the statement above, as mentioned before you never know what a sex offender is capable of no matter how minor the crime they commited was. Therefore, sex offenders should remian far away from any child like place that way harm can be prevented in the future when it comes to anyone’s child. 

“For more than two decades, states and the federal government have struggled with how to best protect the public from sexual predators. Requiring states to register and publicize the names and addresses of convicted sex offenders has been thought to help protect the public by keeping citizens informed” (Snarr, H. and Frederick, S. The complexities of sex offender regestries). Although, it can be difficult at times to protect individuals from sex offenders since some offenders go out of their way by stepping out of their homes or even going anywhere near a child, it is better to know who the individual is and wheerre it is they are located. That way people are fully aware of who to stay away from. It is even known that sex offenders do not wear costumes or hand out candy when it is Halloween, to prevent any harm on a child and protect the public safety. There are more positive outcomes when it comes to having a sex offender registration outwieghing the negative and I believe that should be enough reasoning to having it. Why would people not want to know if there is a rapist living among their area? Do they not care for their own childrens public safety or community?