#but the survivor customization is too damn good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugar-soda · 10 days ago

Text

Kids Shouldn't be Here: John Hancock

Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations

A/N: This is NOT romantic at all! This is all platonic relationships that explore how the Fallout 4 companions and game would change if the Sole Survivor was a young child. Any romantic suggestions or reblogs will be blocked.

Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

Kids were never in Goodneighbor for long.

Diamond City is where families stayed. Where couples went to lay down roots and send their children to school and grow old surrounded by grandkids and loved ones. Goodneighbor was for everyone else. The ghouls, drifters, merchants, chem addicts, and everyone looking for a good not-so-family-friendly time.

The occasional settler would come in with a little one, a brief stop in their search of a place to call home. They would typically only stay the night at Hotel Redford then leave in the morning, their children never being seen between when they show up and leaving. The kid would be left in the locked, rented room while their parents bought supplies. No one complained except anyone unfortunate to be staying in the room under them.

Citizens of Goodneighbor prefered it that way. The lifestyle that they enjoyed had little room for entertaining anyone too young to enjoy a hit of Jet. Many probably didn't even like kids, as patience was not a virtue they possessed. Only a few would be willing to deal with them. Daisy had a soft heart under her hard shell, and wouldn’t mind a settler bringing their children, but none ever had. Kent had started his love for the Silver Shroud when he was very young, and mentioned he hoped he sparked the same love in other youths. Dr. Amari had been called out of the city a few times to check on a kid who had taken a rough fall to the head, or was experiencing memory problems, but those calls were few and far between.

So, when a kid did show up, it was strange…

______________________________________________________________

Mayor John Hancock didn't interact with kids very much. The last time he interacted with one was probably when he was still a stupid teenager, giving one of the Diamond City kids a too rough nougie before he went to find an unsupervised area to get high in.

When he established Goodneighbor, there weren't any kids around. Ghoul kids are rare as hell and he had no business with any settler's kids when they came through.

When he was a kid, John thought teens were annoying and adults were stupid. As a teen, he thought kids were stupid and adults were annoying. As an adult, he realized kids and teens were stupid and adults were really stupid.

Tonight, it was blissfully quiet. He had come down to enjoy a smoke outside the Statehouse with Fahrenheit right beside him. Leaning against the wall, he could hear what few stragglers were still hanging around. With how late it was, almost everyone was down at the Third Rail. Daisy and KL-E-O were still open for another half hour and were quietly bargaining with customers. Anyone else around was either a guard or enjoying a quiet high like he was.

The mentats he took earlier were still effecting his senses. He swore he could hear everything better right now. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and took a drag, holding the smoke in for a minute before letting it go. He better enjoy this moment before work inevitably begins again.

The horrible, metallic screech of the entrance broke the silence. John grimaced and made a mental note to get someone to oil the damned thing tomorrow. He kept his eyes closed, refusing to let the moment pass.

“It seems a rook has brought in a pawn.” Fahrenheit stated cryptically.

John hated when she spoke like that. It was chilling when she said it to some pretentious Bunker Hill merchant, but when she did it to him, it was just frustrating. If she wanted to tell him anything while he was high, she couldn’t expect him to get it if she was speaking riddles.

He cracked open one eye slightly. Turns out the creaking door wasn't welcoming another late night drifter, but a group.

Good ol’ Nick Valentine with them. John didn't see much of him nowadays. He would only stop over at Goodneighbor for a case. That at least meant that something interesting was happening. When John was a teenager, the synth detective would regularly catch any misbehavior he was in. He would confiscate any chems or alcohol he had, but he never gossiped about it like anyone else who caught him. Nick would just voice concern over how he was killing himself then leave. John would be mad at the time, but he appreciated it now. He hoped the detective stuck around to catch up.

There was a Mr. Handy, too. A neat little bowler hat sat on its head like Whitechapel Charlie, though he doubted he had the same custom accent his bartender had.

The third member of the party made John put his full attention on them. Nick had brought an actual fucking kid to Goodneighbor.

The kid had a sniper rifle and a duffle bag thrown over her shoulder. Leather armor that wasn’t made for such a small body covered her arms and torso, but it didn't do much to cover the blue and yellow vault suit. The Pip-boy didn't help John's confusion. Twin braids swung as she swiveled her head to look around.

Whatever case she was part of, Nick probably had it handled. No need for him to stick his non-existent nose in detective business.

“Guess I'll have to tell Charlie to keep Nuka on hand, unless you wanna be on drunk toddler duty?,” he half-joked. Charlie's age recognition component had actually busted about three years ago and they never got around to fixing it, since it wasn't normally an issue. To the Mr. Handy, the Vaultie would look no different than any other patron.

Fahrenheit scoffed and John leaned his head back, ready to take another hit, when Finn's grating voice scratched in his ears and broke the silence worse than the rusted door did.

Finn was on the really, really stupid end of the spectrum. Always squawking and harassing any newcomers and getting on the mayor’s last nerve.

John focused on their conversation, but stayed put. Finn went into his lie about the Vaultie needing “insurance” with so little charm or charisma that John would have thought he was a predator rather than an asshole.

“Thanks for the offer, pal, but we'll be just fine,” Nick spat out the word ‘pal’ like a curse. He pulled the kid's arm gently, placing her behind him and acting as a barrier between her and Finn. The detective could be pretty intimating if he wanted to. He was full six feet tall when most had trouble reaching five foot eight, had exposed wires and steel frame that won't break easy like bones do, and a yellow glare that went straight through your soul. Smart men would know to just leave the synth alone and take the loss.

“I wasn't talkin’ to you, synth. I was talkin’ to the kid,” Finn was not a smart man.

The Mr. Handy spoke then, “The young Miss has no business with you, sir. Take your scam elsewhere, as you'll get no caps from us today.” Ha. Called it, no custom accent.

The Vaultie said something then, but it was too quiet for him to hear her. The mentats must be wearing off.

Finn must have not heard her either, because his temper flared and his volume rose, “ What'd you say, you little bitch?”. His hand reached for his pistol. Looks like John needed to step in now.

“Whoa, whoa. Time out,” he interrupted, “Nick Valentine makes a rare visit to town, and you're hassling his friend here with that extortion crap? Lay off, she’s just a kid.” He gave a quick nod toward the synth. “Good to see you again, Nick.”

“Hancock,” he replied flatly.

Finn clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. Looks like he was already on edge tonight. Someone else must have already called him out on his bullshit.

“What d'you care? She ain't one of us,” Finn Sasser, puffing his chest out like he was an animal trying to intimate John. He wasn't.

John had always been a shorter guy, and becoming a ghoul made him look skinny as hell, though Dr. Amari had assured him the weight loss was from the loss of his skin and that he was a normal weight for a ghoul his size. Point was, John Hancock didn't strike a physically imposing figure, so he was used to fighting taller assholes who were itching for a fight.

Ain't one of them come back for seconds either.

“No love for your mayor, Finn?” He warned, “I said let her go.”

That seemed to irritate Finn even more. “You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor.”

Yep. That was it. Time for Finn to go.

John grinned, “Come on, man. This is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something.” He reached into his coat with one hand as he placed his other on Finn's shoulder. Pulling Finn down, he flicked out his knife and drove it into the man's stomach, repeating the motion a few times for good measure. All of the air in Finn's body left in a quiet, pained grunt before John let his corpse fall like a sack of tatos. The kid made a noise that was a mix of fear and shock and gripped Nick's sleeve for comfort.

“Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here.”

Slipping his knife back into its hidden sheath, Hancock put his full attention back on his guests. Nick's glare had turned into one of exasperation and the Mr.Handy's eyes were narrowed in on him as a new threat. The Vaultie's eyes were full of fear, respect, and a little bit of relief. Looks like he had done the right thing, at least as far as he was concerned.

“Sorry, Nick. You know I'd prefer to give you a warmer welcome, but some people just don't know how to roll out the welcome mat,” he greeted.

“Well, I should know better than to be surprised at casual stabbings in Goodneighbor by now,” Nick replied. “Though, I think you gave the wrong first impression to my client here.”

The kid's grip hadn't let up on the synth's sleeve. Any harder and she would rip it.

John stepped a bit closer and held out his hand. “You all right, sister?” he asked. He didn't know how long this kid had been out of the vault, but judging by her gear, he guessed this wasn't her first time seeing a dead body.

She blinked a few times, as if processing what happened, then finally snapped back into reality to answer. “Yeah, I'm…I'm fine, just wasn't expecting that. Thank you for your help, sir,” She said before taking his hand and shaking it.

Damn, this kid was tall. Standing next to Nick, she looked around average height for a child, but standing closer showed John he only had a few inches on her. He knew he wasn't the tallest guy in the Commonwealth but shit. What were her parents feeding her?

“Good. Now don't let this incident taint your view of our little community,” John put on his least threatening smile. “Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome.”

“I feel you. You're the Mayor here?” She asked, tilting her head.

John's smile spread a little wider. “ Heh. Got a good pair of ears on ya. Mayor John Hancock, leader of this little slice of chaos.”

The girl smiled a little, amused at John's introduction. “Sunny Roberts, and this is Codsworth.” She released his hand to gesture at the Mr. Handy, whose eyes were still targeting John. Not everyone likes the zombie look, he guesses.

Backing up, John said his farewell to Nick, “Don't be a stranger, brother. You can visit outside of detective work, ya know?”

“Not this time, Hancock. I'll buy you a round next time to make up for it,” Nick promised, rolling his eyes fondly.

John laughed. “I'll hold you to it.” He looked back at Sunny. “You stay cool, kid, and you'll be part of the neighborhood. So long as you remember who's in charge.”

She gave a serious nod. “Yes, sir, Mayor Hancock.”

Tipping his hat, Hancock turned and sauntered back toward the Statehouse. Break time was over.

“Our men could take a few lessons in respect from her,” Fahrenheit said, falling into step behind him. “And manners.”

“Heh. If our reputation and the fact we pay them don't teach ‘em respect, nothing will.” As the doors to the Statehouse closed, he held his chin in mock thought. “ Say, how old ya think the kid is?”

Fahrenheit was silent for a second, then answered, “Twelve, she hasn't hit puberty yet.”

“Naaah. She has to be like fifteen, sixteen. You saw how tall she was? Give her a year or two and she'll be taller than both of us.” John put his hands behind his head. “I bet fifty caps she's at least fourteen.”

“I'll take that bet.”

______________________________________________________________

John didn't actually expect to hear about or see Sunny again, but three days later, Publik Occurrences had an article all about the young girl. He had his men run and get one every time a new article was made, so he could either keep up to date with news that could threaten Goodneighbor, or laugh at Piper's more wild articles.

This latest one was all about the kid with a sniper rifle he had met, who turned out to have been a popsicle not too long ago. Fahrenheit and him got into an argument over the caps he owed her. He said that both of them were wrong, as neither of them guessed Sunny was two hundred twelve-years-old. Fahrenheit said the years in the freezer didn't count and that she won the bet. While John didn't exactly agree, she took her caps anyway.

He saw Vaultie again a week after that first meeting. Nick was still with her, but Codsworth had been switched out with Piper Wright herself. He had only seen them enter the town and given a wave before a meeting with Bunkerhill merchants called him in.

A later check-in with the Third Rail revealed she had met Ham, Magnolia, and Charlie that day. Ham had only let her in on the fact that she was there on business, investigating a runaway who was friends with Mags, and a promise not to drink any alcohol, as Ham didn't want to deal with a drunk pre-teen.

Which was a promise she kept, as Whitechapel Charlie reported that she had only bought a Nuka-Cola to get him to answer questions. John had let out a quick sigh of relief at that, as he completely forgot to tell the robot not to sell alcohol to the kid. That relief was short-lived as Charlie then informed him he had hired Sunny to clear out the storehouses. A job he deeply regretted delegating now.

Magnolia was more put out than the Mayor over this information, as she had nothing but nice things to say about Sunny. How polite and sweet she was and how it was so nice to have an audience member sober through her entire set. She had threatened Charlie, saying if the kid got hurt, she would scrap him for parts herself.

John was thoroughly surprised to find the storehouses cleared out two days later.

Outside of Nick, Piper, and Codsworth, she had a whole host of people in her rotating roster of companions. There was Dogmeat, who John had met before when the pooch was sniffing around Nick's heels. There was a Minuteman, Preston Garvey, who was a bit too straight laced for his taste, but seemed like a nice guy. And there was a Brotherhood of Steel guy, Paladin What's-his-face, that Sunny seemed to lose more and more patience for everytime she brought him along.

She also had somehow found time to hire McCready at some point in her trip to the Third Rail, as he vacated the backroom and was next seen with Sunny leading an assaultron who had been modified to dispense ice-cold beer down the streets. When asked, Sunny told him she had been hired to retrieve it and take it to the hotel.

About two and a half weeks after that, John had been looking for someone to check out the Pickman Gallery. While he had never been there himself, the rumors of the place were chilling, and it was just a little too close for comfort for him to ignore. The kid must have overheard him talking about it at some point, because she came up to the Statehouse with a knife and a disgusting painting made of blood as proof of the place being cleared out. Apparently, the guy had been draining raiders like a vampire for his ‘art’, and the whole building was full of paintings like that one. After he paid the kid, he burned the probably haunted painting, sent a group of men to clear out the gallery for his own piece of mind, and gave Fahrenheit an order to make sure the kid wouldn’t take anymore of his “jobs”.

After that fiasco, the kid seemed to be everywhere. Diamond City Radio news started to be filled with stories of “the Kid who won't Die”, “the Child of Death”, and “the Sole Survivor”, which was the name that stuck. Outside of Piper's article, the Commonwealth seemed to forget her actual name. Sometimes, Sunny was just called “Sole”. When he wasn't hearing about her and her companions over the radio, one of his citizens had something to tell him about her.

Daisy told him about how she had given a long overdue book to the kid, and how she offhandedly mentioned how bad she felt about not returning it and how awful it was that the place was overtaken by supermutants. Sunny returned three days later, slightly singed, with a return token and the news she had cleared the place out. And it was.

She had met Kent and turned his one man fan club into a duo as she was a fan of the Silver Shroud as well. They both somehow convinced Preston to wear a Silver Shroud costume and take down some criminals as the crusader. He had to hold back his snickers when talking to the man, but they actually did a pretty good job. Then Kent got kidnapped and they had to go rescue him. After they all got out, John sadly didn't see anymore of the Silver Shroud.

The eternally bitter ex-Vault-Tec Rep had finally moved out of Hotel Redford. The Roberts family had coincidentally been the last family he signed up for Vault 111 before the bombs fell and he had been denied the safety he had sold others. When she was visiting to see if they could get the beer dispenser to dispense Nuka-Cola, the ghoul recognized her and there was a confrontation. According to some of the hotel's patrons, there had been some yelling and Paladin What's-his-face had to hold the man back from Sunny. After that, she had offered for him to come live in Sanctuary and start a new life. When he left, it was the first time John had seen him smile.

______________________________________________________________

Paper work was never John's favorite thing to do, but it was better than meetings, so he didn't complain as much (he still complained, just less than when he had meetings).

That didn't mean he didn't take every excuse he could to get out of it. It was midday and almost everyone was taking a break for lunch. Fahrenheit was off doing who knows what, so he had taken the opportunity to sit down and get high in peace.

He held the hit of Jet in for a moment before letting it go. The first hit was always the best, but he was a long way from getting truly high.

John startled as a sharp knock broke the silence in the room and he fumbled to not drop his Jet. “Dammit! What?”

A guard stuck his head in and said, “The Sole Survivor is here. She says she needs to talk to you.”

He must have taken a bigger hit than he thought, because John had trouble getting his brain to work. “What?” He said, pushing himself off the couch and starting toward the front of the building. Why would the kid need to talk to him? Last time he directly spoke to her was during the Silver Shroud adventure, and that was a few weeks ago. Most of the conversation had been between Preston and him.

Sure enough, there she was. Dogmeat and Paladin What's-his-face were with her today. Her old leather armor had been sold and replaced with combat armor, though it still fit awkwardly as it was made for a fully grown adult. Even the dog got some new goggles and little doggie armor.

She had her back turned toward him as she glared at the Brotherhood soldier. Whatever they were talking about, the discussion had clearly turned sour. It was honestly comical, some big man in power armor arguing with a little girl and her puppy. John hoped Sunny won, just for comedic effect.

“As a Brotherhood squire-”

“As a Brotherhood PALADIN-” Sunny cut him off, “-you are supposed to protect me and help strengthen the Minuteman alliance, Paladin Danse. Yet all you have done is been a jackass and make everything worse.”

“That is insubordi-” Paladin Danse tried to snap, but Sunny wasn't going to give him any ground.

“It STOPPED being insubordination when your leadership made everything worse at the Slog and at Graygarden. Those are Minuteman allies and you directly threatened-”

John coughed loudly. As entertaining as it was, it looked like Sunny was ready to physically fight the Paladin with her bare hands, and that was a fight he didn't want in the Statehouse.

Sunny whirled around, her lips pressed in a tight line. “Mayor Hancock! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come down. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important,” She apologized. A light blush was creeping up her face, clearly embarrassed being caught mid-argument.

“Ehh, depends on what you find important. Nothing that can't wait for the great ‘Sole Survivor’,” he quipped.

Sunny grimaced at the nickname. “Oh, you heard it, too?”

John barked a laugh, “Haha! Only the entire Commonwealth has, sister. Better get used to the fame. Come on, join me in the office and you can tell me what's so important.”

Sunny started to follow, paused, then turned back to her companions. “Stay. Here,” She snarled through gritted teeth at Paladin Danse. Her gaze softened when looking at Dogmeat and she gave him an affectionate rub on the head. “Make sure he doesn't cause any trouble, okay boy?,” She said before following John, leaving the Paladin to stew in annoyance over being babysat by a dog.

Sunny sat on the couch in the office very politely, with her hands folded neatly in her lap and very deliberately not mentioning the smell of cigarettes and drugs that seemed to choke the air in the room.

“Ya want anything to eat?,” John offered as he swiped a Fancy Lad for himself. No use in going into this conversation with the munchies. He would have offered her something to drink, but all he had was vodka, wine, beer, and more vodka. The only time he drank something nonalcoholic was when Fahrenheit poured water down his throat during a hangover.

“No thank you. I already ate with Miss Daisy earlier,” She said. After Sunny had cleared the library and given the poor woman a heart attack, Sunny had become a regular shopper at the store, as the settlement she lived in didn't have a regular supply store yet, and she disliked the one in Diamond City.

“Suit yourself,” John shrugged, “what can I help ya with, kid?”

“It's about one of the citizens.”

John drew in a hiss. He really hoped this wasn't going where he thinks it's going. “They didn't…do anything to ya, did they?”

Sunny shook her head vigorously. Looks like he didn't have to cut anyone's balls off today. “No, no. It's not that kind of issue. No one here has tried to do anything to me since you stabbed Finn when I first visited,” She assured.

“ That's good to hear. Who's got you so concerned then?” He took another Fancy Lad. Not the most healthy lunch, but he never liked salads anyway.

“Bobbi No-Nose,” She stated.

That made more sense in why she was here. While no one in Goodneighbor had a squeaky clean record, Bobbi had a habit of causing trouble specifically designed to give others headaches. In the past few years, she hasn't been happy with John's control over Goodneighbor and made herself a constant thorn in his side because of it.

“Ol’ No-Nose? She ain’t no fan of mine, but she’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“She wants me to help rob you.”

The Fancy Lad caught in John’s throat. Serves him right for not taking care of the slimy bitch sooner, now she’s trying to get a kid mixed up on her crimes. “Excuse me?”

“First she told me that she was breaking into one of Diamond City’s warehouses. She said that they put all of the former resident belongings in there and that she wanted to take them back, but that didn’t sound right. Why would they put things in a storehouse to rot instead of just selling it for a profit, or using it, or even breaking it down for parts. After a bit, she admitted that she and her associate were breaking into one of your warehouses.”

John ran a hand down his face, already tired of this bullshit. Did this woman really try to tell the most obvious lie in the world to the world’s most observant, rule-abiding, dangerous middle schooler? If the next sentence that came out of her mouth was that she shot the ghoul for trying to break the law, or that she came right here after the offer, he wouldn’t be surprised by either reaction.

“I told her I would think about it, then came right here.” Called it. “I don’t know how she’s planning on getting in, or who her accomplice is, but she told me they needed someone small to get to certain areas, and the day she plans on doing the heist. I thought it was best to tell you all this and see what you wanted to do.”

Fuck. If Bobbi had been doing it solo, he could just bust her door down and take care of the bitch himself, but her accomplice could still go through with the heist if Bobbi kicks the bucket, and he had no idea on how they planned on doing it in the first place.

“Alright, sister,” John sighed, forming a quick, basic plan, “You tell me when this heist is happening, then I want you to go back to No-Nose and tell her that you accept the job. I’m gonna send extra men to guard my warehouses. Keep ya head down so you don’t get shot. After that, I’ll need to know how she got in so I can shut it down for good. Ya got that?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, giving another serious nod like she had when they first met.

“Okay,” John said, standing and stretching his back. “Break time’s over. Thanks for the warning, kid.” as he walked past, he gave Sunny’s hair a quick ruffle. Didn’t know why he did it, but it felt right at that moment, so he did.

Sunny gave a big smile that shone just like her namesake and stood up. “Thanks, Mayor Hancock! Have a nice day. I’ll see you after Bobbi’s been taken care of.” Then off she went, leaving his office in complete silence again.

John gave a lazy wave as he sat down at his desk. Pulling out a case of mentats, he popped one in his mouth and rolled it around his tongue, staring at the door Sunny had left wide open.

Heh. She was a good kid.

______________________________________________________________

John was pissed.

He hadn’t been exactly sure how Bobbi was planning on getting in the warehouse. Maybe she found an opening in the guards’ schedule or her accomplice had more influence than the average joe. Whatever theory he came up with, he couldn’t think of a way Sunny would be needed. He definitely wasn’t expecting them to tunnel into the warehouse.

According to Farheinheit, when they popped out of the ground, no one got shot. Sunny had convinced Bobbi and her accomplice to leave Goodneighboor for good instead of dying. While Ferheinheit and himself were put off by the lack of bloodshed, the goods in the warehouse were still there and No-Nose wouldn’t be bothering him again. Happy ending for all, right?

So why was he so annoyed at the situation? He puffed on a cigarette in thought as Farheinheit finished her report and left. There was once upon a time where he would have loved to be part of a heist like that, but now he wanted to put a bullet through Bobbi for trying to pull a fast one on him. He could say it was because it was a personal slight to insult his intelligence by trying to rob him in broad daylight, but he knew the real reason.

He was getting too comfortable in power. Here he was condemning his critics for doing the same thing he did back in Diamond City. He was itching to hunt down Bobbi and make an example of her, but an example of what? Of the fact he has forgotten his own sins and is now killing his own people? That he doesn’t do his own dirty work and left a kid to deal with it? That he was a tyrant?

Fahrenheit opened the door again, “Sir, the Sole Survivor is here.”

“Just call me Sunny, please. I already hear that name enough from settlers.”

Sunny entered, ducking under his bodyguard’s arm to get through. He could hear Mac and Piper’s voices faintly from downstairs, cutting up with one of his guards. Sunny herself looked the same as always, but was covered in a faint layer of dry dirt, giving her the look of a carpenter or farmer.

“Hello, Mayor Hancock. I showed your men the entrance to the tunnel in No-Nose’s house. They are trying to figure out the most secure way to close it. I found a broken suit of power armor that got down there somehow and the guards said that it wasn’t worth fixing ‘cause of the missing pieces. So we moved it to Daisy’s for the Minutemen to come pick it up, unless you want it of course.”

She kept talking, but John wasn’t listening. Sunny was definitely more morally upright than him, but she was fair. If you tried to kill, she would kill you. (Though he hadn’t personally seen her in a fight yet, his men reported Pickman and a whole group of raiders dead at the gallery.) She wasn’t going to kill for talking shit, like he did Finn, or for theft, like he wanted to do to Bobbi, but there were consequences. If you were good to her, she was good back. She was polite, speaking to him by his title and all that bureaucratic stuff. Sunny helped without being asked, but spat venom if she thought someone was wrong. She had looked death in the eye more than once and somehow survived. There were a lot of things he could say about the kid, but the most important part was that she was free.

She had a lot to learn about how the Commonwealth worked, but she was doing a damned good job of forcing it to learn how she worked. She was the most free person he had seen in a while. She went where she wanted despite her guardians' protests, made decisions how she wanted, said what she wanted, and helped not for payment, but because she wanted to. She had no power over anyone but herself, and that made her more powerful and respectable at twelve than most were at fifty. People listened to her because she had no desire to control them, just a desire to be a good person, and people responded to that, even if the baby face and braids had made many hesitant. The respect she had gained was out of awe of youth and trust of innocence, and now John feared he was commanding respect not from a sense of justice and freedom, but out of fear and control.

“Sorry ya got mixed up in all of this, short stack,” he cut her off.

Sunny wasn’t bothered. “No-Nose was the one to ask me in the first place. It’s not your fault. Sorry we blew up your floor.”

“That reminds me,” John said, leaning back in his chair. “We got to talk about paying off the damages you caused to the building. You did a lot of damage to the foundation.”

Sunny frowned thoughtfully. “How much do I owe?”

He bit his tongue, trying to hold back laughter. “Twenty thousand caps.”

Sunny’s eyes widened. “Is there any work I can do to pay it off? I don’t have that kind of money right now.”

John couldn’t hold it in and burst into laughter, “Pfft. The look on your face. Forget the money. Chump change,” he stood up from his seat as Sunny let out a sigh of relief. Like he said, she still had a lot to learn. “Lemme tell ya, sister. This classy little tricorner hat of mine is getting heavy. Am I turning into the man? Some kind of tyrant? I spend all my time putting down the people I would've been proud to scheme with just a few years ago. I need to take a walk again. Get a grip on what really matters: Living free. And you seem to be a pretty free bird.”

“Are you saying you want to leave Goodneighbor…and follow me around?” Sunny looked confused as she tilted her head. “,But aren’t you their leader? Why would you want to leave?”

“For one, Bobbi almost pulled a job on me. That means I'm getting too comfortable. Need to get out there and hone the razor. For two, Goodneighbor is about doing your own thing. I’d still be in charge, don’t get me wrong. The mayor's still the mayor, whether he's "in residence" or not. I've walked out of here plenty of times. Keeps me honest. Can't let power get to my head. That's not what being in charge of Goodneighbor is about. If I don't leave every once and a while, the power's gonna change me. Can't have that. Besides, you might just be the right kind of trouble with everything you get yourself mixed up in? Can’t let the young ones have all the fun, now can I?”

Sunny ignored Fahreheit’s comment of John “,Only being in your thirties. You're not that old.”

“Well, if you are willing to help, who am I to say no?” she gave a toothy grin.

Returning it with one of his own, John headed toward the doors to the balcony. “Let me just have a little chat with my community, first. Give them the news. Then we can get this show on the road.”

12 notes · View notes

msookyspooky · 2 years ago

Text

Fours a Franchise

Chapter 1

wordcount: 9,188

"What? No, I'm not doing it Rebecca! I told you already that I changed my mind-"

"Yn, it's your last stop for the year! Do you know how insightful and inspiring it will be for the survivor to go back to where it all happened? Think of the book sales!"

You paced your hotel room with your phone in hand. "I'm thinking of more than book sales, Rebecca…Like my sanity, my life, my-"

"Okay, okay." She interrupted you over the phone. "But as your publicist, your assistant, the head coach of your career AND your number one cheerleader-" You rolled your eyes as she continued. "I'm HIGHLY suggesting you do this book signing."

You blinked at the window. A huge high rise overlooking a bustling city, a far cry from your humble dwellings you were used to. "Are you suggesting this as my assistant or ordering me as my publicist?" You could hear the edge to your own voice as you felt your mouth twist into a frown.

"Hey, now. I work for you, remember? Bbuuttt, I know what sells. I mean…Let's face it, your um…Side novels were not what people wanted, sweetie. I've been right this far and look! Enjoying a cup of tea before Good Morning America last week! We even got you on Larry King, YN! Life is good so why mess it up over a town that has been a complete bore for over a decade?" You sighed and shifted your weight as she continued. "People love a survivor! They don't want to read a campy fantasy; they want reality. Out of Darkness. YN. The survivor. The fighter. 15 years of horror she faced. 18, 20, 23 were the tender ages she faced down homicidal maniacs some of which were betrayed friends. Trauma, guilt, hatred, fear and she faced it all-"

"Tone down the sales pitch. I'm aware of what I went through, just…Why this town? I've been traveling for weeks on end! Why do I have to go back THERE?"

"And you can take a break after this one!…Now, it doesn't look very convincing that you're 'Out of Darkness' if you're not willing to go back to the place that Darkness came from to sign some simple books, hmm? It could plummet book sales, appearances, and your followers if you tell them you refuse to go back to Woodsboro…Oh, that reminds me; I need to update your Facebook page for tomorrow."

Silence stretched on as you stared out your hotel's huge glass window at the world around you. Rebecca Walter's continued with what you could only describe as her customer service voice. Aka her 'We're done talking about this' voice. "...Okay! Your plane leaves at 6 tomorrow morning and I'll pick you up in the rental car to get to your hometown."

You exhaled in exasperation. "It's not really my hometown. I wasn't even there a year."

"Right, right. Anyways, get some beauty sleep and I'll call you in the morning. By-ee!" She sang out as she hung up.

You sighed deeply, staring out at the big city around you. It should be exciting, new, wonderful but all it did was make you feel small and out of place…

Focusing on your reflection staring back at you; You still looked the same that you did 10 years ago as far as aging went but your hair was more modernized for 2011 millennial input. Recommended by who else but Rebecca. You didn't hate it but you felt out of place sometimes. Same with the bandage style bodycon dresses or pleated skirts or peplum tops and not to mention the too high stiletto pumps or the clunky jewelry all in colors you didn't like. It wasn't you. No matter your original style, this style was just to appease the masses that you had your shit together.

You frowned at your own reflection. It had only been a little over a year ago that you were 'highly suggested' by your publicist to write 'Out of Darkness'. The title wasn't your idea, the photo on the front made you look like a damn Céline Dion CD cover and the lies that you had everything figured out enough to help others overcome trauma made you nauseated. Rehashing your worst times in life endlessly with a forced smile to a bunch of eager listeners with hopeful eyes in your direction that everything gets better…It really didn't; not for you. You just made the best of it. It felt like you were lying to them even if it was white lies to help others feel better.

You watched people walking on the busy street, the entire city lit up as you reminisced…You sometimes wondered if Sidney or Tatum had taken your place; what would they do? You knew Tatum would adore being a minor celebrity and probably get on some reality show or do interviews willingly to fit the lifestyle even more. You could hear her saying "If I'm gonna be traumatized; I'm gonna be traumatized with Gucci."

Sidney probably would have genuinely believed in what she was doing and would move on. She would feel a purpose to help and inspire others. You wanted to be like that, be like Sidney would be. Hell, even be like Tatum. But the fact was; you weren't Sidney or Tatum. Your mom wasn't murdered by those two. Even if Sid and Tat were your friends…You had to accept the fact that Stu was partially right all those years ago in his own fucked up way. It was horrible what happened to them and to you and you will never forgive Billy and Stu for what they had done but the resentment you had for them wasn't comparable to Sidney's hatred after she found out who had killed her mother and best friend. Her Mom being made into a massacre that poor Sidney and Neil had to find was enough to make her ready to bludgeon her boyfriend to death with a lamp had you not stopped her… Sidney WOULD feel a great sense of duty to her mom and herself to help others overcome these types of situations. You wanted to as well but something in you didn't feel it…Maybe it was guilt? Or maybe what you lacked in life because of it? Mark wasn't here and you never got to find out if it could've worked with him or anyone else for that matter, friends outside the Woodsboro Survivors were nonexistent, and you felt alone in all of this. The secret felt like the heaviest burden on your shoulders you just couldn't shake.

With a heavy sigh; You pulled the curtains on the window to stop the bright city lights from pouring in.

You walked to the bathroom to shower. Stripping off and looking at your body in the mirror. A scar on your left shoulder and your upper arm was the first to catch your gaze. One on your right forearm and one on your right hand where Neil stabbed you a decade ago. You went to make a fist and your right hand's middle finger and the ring finger trembled to form a fist fully. Not tightly closing as you clutched it in your other hand and looked away. Stepping into the hotel's shower and closing your eyes under the water. You let the water wash over your body as you thought of the last 10 years…How the hell did you end up here?

You faced the wall and leaned your head forward and let the water run down your back. Going from a normalish girl wearing what you wanted and no one knowing you as long as you didn't say your name; to trying to keep up with the kids and the Kardashians and EVERYONE recognizing you... From an isolated cabin to tv appearances nationwide.

'God, I can't believe Stu's ass hasn't barked up my tree after seeing me on TV….' You thought. Even if the malice you should have just wasn't there. You didn't even know if Stu or Billy were even alive or not.

You eventually turned off your water the more your mind wandered to places you didn't want to dwell on. Drying off before doing your nightly routine and getting ready for bed. You checked your phone to see no texts or missed calls from Randy or Dewey and your heart sank a little. Especially since you had to text or call them more often then they did you these days. You knew life was busy. God, did you ever know how busy life could be flying across the country routinely. However, you went from nightly calls from them both, to now, you were lucky to get a call once a month and even then that was usually phone tag with you calling them or them calling you. All of you are just too busy with life now.

You sat your phone down on the nightstand and laid your head down on your pillow.

'I guess that's a part of growing up…People drift. It's like the trauma was what held us together and the more they move on; the less we need each other.'

You felt your throat burn a little just thinking that thought before tightly closing your eyes.

'Or the less they need me like I do them…'

———————————–—–—––––––––––

It was almost afternoon as you sat in the rental car's passenger seat. A picture of your aging Cherri on your screen. Your childhood cat that lived with your family passed away a few years back but you still had Cherri. A trusted family member was happy to take your extremely elderly dog in while you traveled. You swore to yourself you'd spend her final year or two with her instead of traveling for this dumb book signing. This was the last stop and then you were having a little chat with Rebecca.

"Just text. I mean, you have a Droid. It's not 2005 anymore." Rebecca muttered as she eyed you.

"I know, I love this thing. But I still like calling." You admitted. It was SO much nicer than clicking each number anywhere from 2 to 4 times to get the letter you wanted. You hardly ever texted until you got your phone with an extended keyboard…You still kept the model Mark gave you as a keepsake at home. But a flip phone just wasn't going to cut it anymore.

"That's nothing, you'd die of overload with an Iphone."

You huffed while calling Randy. "Who wants a phone with a touch screen you have to protect? And the screen is tiny too. I say it's just a fad and they'll die out in a year or two…"

"So, who are you calling up?"

You faltered as you heard Randy's voicemail after multiple rings. "…Well that sucks."

"What? Something wrong?"

You frowned as you looked at your phone. "Well, I tried calling Randy but he didn't answer and I don't want to call his house phone and bother his family this early…. There's Dewey."

You pressed speed dial for him. Just to frown when it went straight to voicemail after a few rings as well. "...Which is apparently on duty." You drew out with a breath of air past your lips in exasperation. "So now, it's Gale."

"Who?"

"Gale Riley." You glanced at Rebecca. "Maiden name; Weathers."

Her face lit up. "Oohh, god yeah! She was such a boss back in the day! Kid me had, like, starry eyes seeing her on tv."

You smiled and held up a finger as Rebecca nodded while driving. Just when you saw the interstate sign pointing West to Woodsboro.

It rang one time before she picked up.

"Hey, Gale? Everything okay? Kind of picked up real quickly there." You mumbled.

"What? Oh yeah, just…Writing my next book! I'm so busy with it. Halfway there. And my phone was beside me so… "

"Oh, totally get it." You smiled to yourself knowing that the computer screen was blank and she was desperate for a distraction. You continued. "I tried calling Dewey but he didn't answer."

"Oh, yeah…Sheriff Dewey is a very busy man." She muttered.

"Yeah. So, if he panics later just let him know I was just reminding him I'm visiting Woodsboro today."

"Today?"

"Book Signing. " You felt uneasy as the 'Welcome to Woodsboro' sign came into view. "I'll be doing the signing at noon and was wondering if I could visit? I haven't even seen your place yet. It's only been what? 9 years of owning it?"

Gale released an amused huff on the other line. "Yeah, something like that. I'll text you the address."

"Thanks. And could I get Randy too? You know he only brings the family my way. I know it a little but I need a refresher because it's just a street away from his parents but I swear to god all those houses look alike."

"Yeah, I'll send it your way…Listen, it's fine if you're too busy. So am I, obviously, but maybe we could get coffee? I've been dying to shit talk to somebody about this one pushy tart deputy at Dewey's work that keeps buttering him up with treats. Guess what? They taste like cardboard…" She was silent a moment before saying. "...Well…Unless you're running out of here as soon as you can. Been a long time since you stepped foot in this town."

You sighed as houses came into view. "...No, I'm staying at least till the first kill." You deadpanned, no real humor in your voice.

"Yeah right. I'll see you later. Dewey's going to be over the moon when he finds out his surrogate sister's in town."

You didn't know if that was sarcasm or genuine. You and Gale were not best friends by a long shot. Not even good friends. Honestly, sometimes you fight like two divorced parents trying to play nice while sharing custody of the kid aka Dewey. And yet, sometimes you both were the only company you had these days.

You listened to Rebecca talking aimlessly about nothing in particular as she drove. You sat in the passenger seat and suddenly it was like you were a 17 year old girl again…

The memory played out in your head. Your family tried engaging with you as you sat there solemnly in the backseat. Torn up at leaving your old life behind for this place. You could just reimagine the view from the back window; looking at the town you only visited for your grandparents every so often. You dreaded being at a new school at the end of your Junior year. But your grandparent had a health scare and it was closer to your parent's work so you really had no choice in the matter when your folks decided to move there. Any other issues in life pertaining to you or your parents lives just sealed the deal for them even more.

You shook your head slightly with a forlorn expression when you both passed the school…Still the same after 15 years. In your mind's eyes, you could picture Tatum laughing and walking beside Sidney out of the bustling building. You closed your eyes a moment, imagining them waving at you as you passed by before opening them again. An ache in your chest slowly formed…You truthfully hadn't thought of your old friends in a decent amount of time but coming back here just seemed to resurface old wounds. It was so easy to be back in time to 1996. Preferably the Summer before your senior year. You were young and carefree as any teen could try to be. James being a new boyfriend that wasn't abusive yet. Sidney and Billy seemed in love and Tatum was freshly dating Stu. Randy making you laugh or roll your eyes at him at the video store, chilling with Tatum and Sidney at their houses or yours. Watching movies with Stu and Billy who at the time seemed like normal guys that genuinely loved their girlfriends and were just good friends with you…

You glanced at the car's mirror. Your sad face staring back at you and suddenly reality was crashing into you that most of your memories of that group weren't as real as you wanted them to be as far as Billy and Stu were involved as well as what followed just a few short months later. From James, to the strain on your group's friendships, to the very obvious reason why the tension was happening being revealed at the party that night…Those moments of naive bliss you had prior you would never, ever get back.

Rebecca rambled while you were in your own world. "So anyways, I told him he's a complete tool. Because, come on. How can this not be a good sales pitch, am I right?...YN? Hellooo?"

You jolted slightly as you realized she was directly talking to you and not herself. "Huh? Sorry, just…Getting lost in thought. I haven't been here in 15 years. I literally moved away not even 2 weeks after…Well…You know what happened."

"Okay, speaking of which. I know your character in Stab was with them-"

"Right."

"And you were not, based on your court case I read about."

"Yes."

"Sooo…"

"Yes?" You asked with a raised brow.

"Okay, don't take this the wrong way but both of those guys were kind of hot for freaking seniors. I'm not a pedo or cradle robber, I'm just saying! I mean, if I had two guys that cute that were obsessed with me in high school? Murderers or not, I'd think about it…So, did you ever think they were attractive? Ever?"

You felt the silence in the car. You wanted to be normal. To just admit that yes, they were attractive, their shitty personalities and selfish choices were what sucked but you were attracted to them. Who wasn't at the time? They were two of the most popular and arguably better looking guys in school that hung out with you. You got hateful looks your way just as much as Sidney and Tatum did. It's why the rumors about you were so easily spread. One day when you were talking to Stu in the hallway, him leaning over you with his arm on the locker as you tried to move away from him flirting because he was just recently dating Tatum but you know Casey saw it. Her locker was just down the hall. You were sure even if she broke up with him; seeing him so hyper fixated on you instead of still being hung up on her bruised her ego enough to spread the nasty rumors about you. James was threatened by them as well for the same reason…They were sought after in Woodsboro. So finding out they both were secretly in love with you had you so shocked it ALMOST rivaled the shock of them being the Woodsboro killers…Almost. You wanted so badly to just admit it and have girl talk you didn't get with anyone else.…But considering your trial in the past and the people online trying to dig up your case again; you trusted no one with that info. Especially a fame mongerer like Rebecca.

"They were alright looking, I guess. " You lied with a nonchalant shrug and redirected it. "Nothing to excuse them from being monsters."

Rebecca scoffed. "Well duh, they were! Please, they may have not been the nicest but that Billy looked like Johnny Depp and the other guy-"

"Stu." You knew he'd just about shove Rebecca out of the moving car if he was here.

"- He wasn't bad looking either, I guess. Not my type but apparently he dated some of the most popular girls of Woodsboro High so he had something going for him."

"Yeah, he was charming and popular and used it to manipulate people."

"But you seriously didn't want them at all before the murders? You had to have at least looked or thought about it. I mean, these two guys were obsessed-"

"With getting their way no matter what." You interrupted her. "Besides, they were dating my best friends and I had a boyfriend at the time. I had no interest in them.

She gave you a once over from her seat. Looking like she wanted to say something before her mouth dropped. She pulled up to the bookstore and your heart sank.

"Oh crap." Rebecca grumbled. Pulling in as you froze in your seat

A handful of people with signs screaming at you with signs. Your picture is marked out on a few or 'guilty' written in bold red letters designed to look like blood. You even saw a few of Tatum, Sidney, Casey or Steven with their names and the word 'justice' written on them.

"Okay, just hold your head high and ignore them…You'd think the least they could do is have police here. What else do these small town feds have to do but shovel donuts in their mouths and bust some crack heads here and there?" She grumbled while undoing her belt.

You swallowed, slightly taken aback yourself that Dewey wouldn't be here to rally them away. Looking up to see rows and rows of Ghostfaces on the pole lights near the store. "I'd say damn kids with that-" You pointed, letting your finger fall as you gave a wary look to the small angry crowd. "But…The adults are acting kind of ridiculous too…Isn't this welcoming." You sarcastically mumbled, feeling your anxiety creeping in.

Rebecca shoved her door open. "Screw this, I am NOT having these frigging freeloaders hogging the media attention I-…We worked for!" She slammed her door shut as you gave a shaky sigh.

Rebecca made a wide gesture to the angry crowd trying to boycott your book and you. Still convinced in the conspiracy theory that you actively helped Billy and Stu and you just got away with murder and were now profiting off of it.

You were scared of crowds like this just as much as Ghostface. Especially after you almost died from a crazed conspiracy nut seeking 'justice' more than a decade ago. Despite that, you sucked in a breath and got out of the car.

Rebecca grabbed you and led you by the shoulder as you just prayed no one had a gun.

You heard "Murderer", "We don't want you here", "Leave Woodsboro" as you walked by the 8 to 10 people protesting. Rebecca said a nasty remark back as you said nothing. Numb to it at this point as your assistant slammed the door shut.

"I'm gonna rip the owner a new ass for not handling that. Wasn't me threatening his cat over your set up not enough?!" She marched away as you saw the people still holding up signs, chanting at your picture on the store window. Rebecca slammed a door to a backroom looking for the owner.

You ran a hand over your face, already eager to get the hell out of this town. It wasn't like you didn't have naysayers in other towns but this one felt different…It felt worse.

An orange cat eyed you curiously from the desk across the room. Leisurely lounging and looking rather plump and content with itself but watching your every move. You walked over to pet it but it jumped off the desk and ran behind a bookshelf.

'You too, huh?' You thought before you went over and sank into a seat at the table you'd have your books signed at. Staring down at yourself on the cover. You wanted to go home already. YOUR home. Away from people and bullshit like this. Be with your very small inner circle, your aging dog, your small comforts. Anything but this.

Your thoughts were interrupted as a man cleared his throat and you flinched in response. Fearful a protestor got in and could be holding a gun to your head for all you know.

"YN, I'm such a big fan...So hey, can I get some special friends discount or something? By that, I mean, free?"

You faltered, slowly looking up to see a man's belt and white button down shirt…Your eyes roamed higher to see a green sweater over top of it near your white table in front of you. Your eyes traveled more as a relieved smile slowly stretched over your face.

"Ray."

He grinned down at you. A light stubble on his filled out face. A few pounds gained since you were in your early 20's but still some muscle there too. You were sure he still worked out even after physical therapy just not as much with his busy schedule. His hair was in the same volumized, fluffy swept back style he had in Hollywood, just shorter or thinner with age.

He grinned as you stood up. Not having seen him face to face for almost a year as awful as it sounded.

Randy remarked. "I never thought I'd see you back in this shithole. I mean, you're star status now."

You gave a chuckle and walked over to hug him. He hugged you back, holding onto you for a few moments before you gently pulled away a bit. "Yeah, whether I like it or not." You replied unable to help looking at the crowd and he put a hand on your shoulder to look back at him instead.

"Hey, screw them. You've came a long way and they don't know what the fuck their even yelling about…" His eyes trailed down with raised brows as he fully pulled away. "And then there's…You." He huffed with a bemused smirk. "Wow, you in heels is an eerie sight from your usual woman of the woods get up."

"Oh, shut up."

"No, seriously. Did you raid Gale Weathers closet?"

"Ugh, do not compare me to Gale. " You grumbled with a huff.

"Or what? You can't give me pain anymore, Mistress. My wife will have a say in that." He showed his wedding band for emphasis.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I think if you annoy her as much as you annoyed me in the past; she'll make the exception."

"Not if you're dressed like your going to Fashion Week, she won't. She wouldn't even recognize you if she walked by the window."

You shoved away from him lightly. "Oh God, stop. Seriously, it's just heels…Your just mad it makes me taller-"

You went to measure your height with a devious grin, doing the same thing you did at college before that party until he smacked your hand away with a small puff of air escaping past his lips.

He took you in again, his smile fading before shaking his head slightly with a smile. "Seriously though, you look good! Really! It's just so…So-"

"Different?" You asked with a raise of your brow before your face fell ever so slightly. "Yeah. It's not exactly what I wear on the regular…But…I'm a product and the packaging is what sells. " You gave with a bitter smirk.

His mouth parted as he stared at you. The teasing gone from his face as looked at you. "...Is…Is everything okay? Are you happy with all of this?" He gestured to the table with all the copies of your books.

You almost told him the truth but quickly forced a smile and shook your head. "No, I'm okay. I'm just…I'm grateful. I mean, I'm privileged with the opportunities given to me from very less than ideal circumstances. I guess…Just wish I could wear a comfortable dress boot with the leaves turning soon." You lost your smile to ask him the same question. "And you? Are you happy with everything?...It's been awhile since we talked. Like, really 'talked' talked face to face."

He faltered as well before giving a 'pssh' noise between his lips and an outrageous smile. "Of course! I have a beautiful wife that is way out of my league but still stuck it out with me. Two wonderful kids that are everything to me. A house right here in my hometown, I can walk and move like I was never in a coma from being stabbed over a dozen times, I'm freaking alive for god sakes!…No…Life threatening Incidents in a decade. Life is good!"

You didn't believe that as he folded his arms and closed himself off as he spoke to you. Your brows rose slightly as you softly asked. "Well…And the video store? Everything okay?"

"Yeah! Y-Yeah so great that I now have two businesses in town."

"Really? Which one?"

He gave a big gesture to the bookstore with a tight smile.

You gawked at him. "...This? YOU'RE the bookstore owner Rebecca talked to earlier?!"

"Yep. She is a very unpleasant woman, by the way."

Your face scrunched as it dawned on you. "Wait, why didn't you tell me you owned the store I was scheduled at? Why didn't you tell me about the bookstore in general??"

He sighed heavily. "I was going to but I've been so busy lately. Seriously, I hope my kids remember I'm their Dad at this point." He faltered before his shoulders sagged. "And…I guess I just didn't exactly want to brag I own not one but TWO pieces of shit businesses now. Thank God for Karla's job at the bank."

"What? Ray, is everything okay financially? Are you and Karla okay?...I know life got away from us but you know you can still tell me anything…Right?"

Randy stared with a harsh swallow and frown. A protester got extra loud outside enough to break the silence as Randy rolled his eyes, walked to the store's window, and jerked down a curtain to hide you both from view. He continued as he walked back towards you, arms falling at his sides. "We're okay but it's not…What I want for my family…I know you called and I missed it and I apologize for that. I almost called you back but I just decided I wanted to surprise you instead. I mean, you certainly surprised me with your Assistant putting your face on my store window!…Those assholes out there were not a part of the surprise, obviously. They just arrived 10 minutes ago... I'm sorry, I tried to threaten them with the police but they're not leaving until police arrive and APPARENTLY Woodsboro's finest have more important matters to attend to because dispatch will send an officer when they're 'available'." He rolled his eyes. "Thank fucking god no ones dying her or anything."

You sighed. "I'm sure Dewey has a good reason for the lack of officers available. He's worried about my safety too."

Randy nodded. "Yeah, I know…It's just we barely talk as is and then your welcome wagon is that? He couldn't have made sure to be here or send a deputy no matter what?"

"Don't worry about it. I've had worse…But back to you. If you're struggling then why do you own this too? What about the video store?"

"It's…Tanking." He sighed out with a frown as he looked to the ground in shame. "I just came to look over this place instead of my employee Jenny because you were in town…AND she didn't show up to work today or call in. It's weird for her though; she's usually a pretty good employee…. But trust me, any other time, I'd love to be surrounded by films…People just don't rent movies anymore; not like they used to. When I bought the store from my older than dirt boss years back it was like a dream come true. 'Yes! I have something to rely on instead of some pencil pusher job for a boss somewhere!'." He mimicked excitement before dropping the act and slumping his posture. "… But I'm starting to think being my own boss isn't worth the hassle."

"Was it really doing that bad?" You asked with a grimace. You looked around and saw Rebecca outside through a back window, stalking the yard. Still looking for Randy. Having gone out a back door, apparently.

Randy continued with a frown. "Yeah. The video store really did feel like something and…It's just fading to nothing. I mean, even Blockbusters are shutting down so how does the little man stand a chance? People are relying on that Netflix thing more and more every year. And this place feels like I invested in a steaming pile of crap too. I'm only supplying mostly romances to middle aged suburban housewives wanting to spice up their marriage. Seriously, none of these kids pick up Stephan King anymore. It's fucking sad."

"Be honest. Did you read when you were a teen?"

"ACTUALLY, I did." He gave with his arms folded and a smug look.

"Oh yeah? Comics don't count."

"I'm telling you, I read! I was wise beyond my years."

You released a huff of laughter at that. "AND reading for school projects doesn't count…Or Stephen King and Clive Barker's 3 books circulating in the library."

He opened his mouth then closed it. "Ookkay, maybe I wasn't the biggest bookworm compared to my love for cinema but I did read. These kids today don't read books at all! I swear to god, if it's not on their phones or tablet; they don't look at it."

You shrugged. "I think they read blogs and …Fanfiction online?" You drew out. Unsure if that was even the right term.

Randy raised a brow "What the hell is that?"

You gave an exaggerated shrug. "I don't know, I just know it wasn't popular when I was their age. I heard Rebecca talking about it with a friend. Something about someone made an erotic fanfiction of Twilight and Rebecca was trying to get a hold of the writer to get her to make a bdsm book about it next year?? I have no idea what the two have in common but I kind of want to look it up later out of morbid curiosity."

"Weird. What? Is Bella gonna finally punish Edward for being a stalker? Or is a threesome finally gonna happen-"

You cut him off, silently kicking yourself for bringing it up. "Randy, please. No Twilight rants. I KNOW you hate it."

"It SUCKS, Yn. It's just some Mormon women's secret wet dream disguised as her inserting herself as Bella, I mean, what the fuck does a 100 something year old man want to do with a teenager anyways? What the hell could he have in common with a kid that doesn't even know what Zima is? And why is he so emotionally constipated with the personality of a rock? Isn't he trying to blend in with his alabaster marble like skin and bright fucking golden eyes? Furthermore, why is he at highschool? People graduate early, who the ever loving hell wants to be in high school forever? Worst years of my life aside from Middle school. And don't even get me started on the fucking sparkles and no drinking human blood!" He ranted a mile a minute.

You groaned softly to yourself and hung your head. "Oh god..."

"Salem's Lot was a classic, Fright Night a masterpiece of 80s vampirism, The Lost Boys is still enjoyable to this day, John Carpenter's Vampires was kick ass, Near Dark which no one mentions despite it being one of the first western vampire films and having 3 great actors from Aliens! Alien was tremendously better, sequels suck, but that's besides the point!…And most of all, Dracula.. Don't even have to elaborate on that one. Okay, they were all vampire movies. Cold, undead, fanged up assholes that loved being a vampire. They LOVED drinking blood! What the fuck is the point-"

"RANDY." You snapped before giving him a look. "I know, okay, I know!…Besides, why do you know so much about it if you hate it?"

He wore a scowl on his face and looked away. "Because Karla's made me take her to see all 3 movies so far and guess what we're seeing this November?"

You raised your brows with an amused smirk. "...Twilight Breaking Dawn?-"

"Fucking Twilight Breaking Dawn" He answered before you could even get it out.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "After all the cheap horror movies you probably have had her watch; it's the least you could do."

"Yeah, yeah." He sighed out.

"THERE YOU ARE!" You both flinched at Rebecca's voice. "What half brained, idotic, little man are you that you can't do one simple thing; KEEP. THE POSITIVE SHINE. ON. YN. Do I gotta skin that cat or what?-"

Randy held up his hands. "It's not even my cat, Lady! He just waltzed in one day and never left."

You raised a brow. "So it IS your cat then?"

Rebecca went to yell again and you held up a hand. "Rebecca! This is Randy!...Randy Meeks. The other Woodsboro survivor and my friend! Turns out, he's the owner."

Randy gave her a sarcastic smile and wave as she faltered.

"...Oh." She straightened herself up. "Well then, you can still do something about that outside. Where are the cops?" She pointed to the protesters.

"I already called the cops and they're busy. What more do you want?"

"BUSY?" She snapped before adjusting herself with a glare while marching out. "Want something done right…" She slammed the door as you both grimaced.

Randy gave you a sideways glance. "I'd lecture her for slamming my door but I'm kind of afraid to." He looked at you. "Uh…Should we go help her? I mean, I'm the man here and she's just a tiny thing-"

You chuckled sarcastically as he gave an offended look your way. "What? Okay, What YN?"

"Sorry but you don't know Rebecca. She's like a fake splenda version of Gale; she'll be fine." You gestured to the door. "But I mean, go out there if you want. Since you're the man here and all."

He looked out the door of his shop and grimaced slightly. "Uhh…Nah. No, you need someone to protect you here more than Gale Jr. out there."

You tilted your head with a smirk. "Oh, that's good. I feel so much safer with someone to protect me. My hand that was stabbed from fighting a man twice your size gives me trouble making a proper fist. And I get dizzy sometimes after another man punched me in the mouth and smashed my head into a bar. So, I'm so glad THE MAN is here to save me."

Randy gave you a deadpan expression. "Bitch please, I was stabbed 14 times."

"And yet…What's your kill count? And who saved your ass multiple times? And remind me how many times you were the main target?"

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. "I fucking held my own, smartass."

" I know, just screwing with you for old time sake. Don't be mad, I know if a protester came in you'd be the first one to hit them." You chuckled and shook your head as you saw a bin of books on a nearby table. You picked one up and showed him. "We got at least 20 minutes till the book signing…What are these?"

He huffed with folded arms but walked over to join you. "Those? Oh, books that aren't doing so hot. There from some lesser known authors that apparently aren't exactly best sellers."

"Yet. It just takes one." You gave and Randy nodded. You picked a few. "Juliette Morris…J.R. Whitney…Summer Raine. Never heard of them." You picked one up and eyed the dark cover. "Robert Gray." You mumbled.

Randy gently took it from you to examine it. "Yeah, I was eyeing that one. Seems like a psychological thriller. Not my type of horror."

You rolled your eyes. "I know, no blood or boobs, huh?"

He put the book down. "I take offense to that. I'll have you know, I enjoy plot."

"Uh huh. The plot of a big set of lungs running from some guy in a mask?"

"Uh those are Classics; show some respect! "

"I don't have to respect shit when I lived through it."

"Fair enough. But besides that, you know I actually do like plot to my movies. I'm not Stu-" He faltered. Both of you paused as he said it. You turned around and he shook his head with a bewildered expression. "Jesus, where'd that come from?"

You stared a moment too, a bit of fear ran through you at the Randy even saying his name before you sighed with a shrug and a tight smile. "Well um…Bound to happen eventually, I guess. Me being back here, talking about horror movies with you like we were in high school again…It feels like we're at the video store and Stu's gonna come by any minute knocking over the vhs tapes just to irritate you while sticking his tongue out at me."

He gave a look of disgust, a bit of uneasiness in his expression. "Can we please not talk about that reject? Slip of the tongue and it won't happen again."

You parted your lips to say something but it died in your throat as you curtly nodded in response, looking back down at the book bin before he took it for you.

"Anyways, I better let you get set up. People should start pouring in within the next 20 minutes. Let me just put these in the horror section. Yell if you need me." He gave a quick smile to you before walking away.

You sighed and nodded to yourself. "Can do."

—————————————————

The protestors died out. Well, some stayed but a few left after Gale saw some woman threaten to release personal info after she found out one's identity through a private facebook account that still had their pfp as their face and full name. Then, she threatened to post them on twitter. A few promptly left but just as many stayed. Holding up the signs that Gale stared at; trying to chant over what you had to say.

Gale eased back from the small crowd gathered inside; eyeing you talking to everyone. A protester tried going in with a sign but she stopped him. "Lloyd, don't you have anything better to do? What would your kids think?"

He glared at Gale, sign still raised with your picture marked out in red. "They'd be proud knowing I'm defending their cousin Steve's death from the likes of her." He pointed, raising his voice as you kept talking and tried to ignore it.

"Stu and Billy did that and you know it. She was proven innocent." Gale mumbled. "I have the lawsuit and half a million dollars lose to prove it." She mumbled the last part.

"And you proved yourself a coward too. Judge could have been paid off for all we know. You started this, you brought it to everyone's attention, you showed the facts… Just to be a quitter. Out of my way-"

Gale jutted a hand out as he went to march past her. "I wouldn't do that, Lloyd. This is private property owned by my dear friend Mr. Meeks. You step one more inch of your fat foot in here and my husband the goddamn Sheriff will charge you. You want to yell out there like an idiot that's your American right but don't bring it in here." Gale hissed out. "Now get your fat drunken ass out of here or maybe that lawn that was wrecked coincidently after that bar fight you had with the homeowner will be coincidently reopened?…Everyone has cameras now. I'm sure if I used my old reporting skills; I could find out just who did that…Got it?"

The man huffed, looking at her in disgust. "One day, your mouth is going to get you in trouble." He pointed at her in a warning as he walked backwards.

"It already has." She muttered back. Focusing back on you as you seemed to handle the protestors with more restraint than she ever gave you credit for. Unbeknownst to you that she was even here let alone defending you from people like Lloyd.

She just…Stared a moment. Taking you in. It was crazy to her.

'How did you go from a kid that was shaking over your own shadow to a professional woman selling these schmucks books like they were lined with Jesus's freaking toilet paper?' She thought.

She huffed softly at the thought, tilting her head to watch you. She swallowed as she saw you engaging with everyone in the middle of Randy's newfound shop she knew wouldn't make it, but then again, she didn't think you would either.

She couldn't help feeling…Cast out. A frown on her face. Once youthful skin now bore thin lines near her mouth and eyes. Seeing you up there in your prime, a professional dress and high heels on that looked like something she might have worn, a crowd eager to hear from you and your book…Meanwhile, she couldn't seem to even write her own. No one stopped her on the street anymore, no autographs or photo ops…She closed her eyes a second as she listened to you…You were all grown up now…She was aging too. A part of her could easily see a younger version of herself in you as you gave your speech…She hated it.

She still had her doubts about Tim and James not being Billy and Stu but after a decade of peace; she'd be an obsessed fool to harp on it now. Dewey was Sheriff of Woodsboro like he always wanted, Randy had a happy family and owned a few businesses in town, you were a national treasure…It seemed like everyone was doing something but her. She was so lonely she even was looking forward to coffee with you; coming clear down here just to see you. That's just how pathetic it felt that she was having coffee with the girl that technically ruined her career and yet she had no one else…

You finished talking, Rebecca talking for you to have people buy book copies of the New York Times Best Seller while they lasted.

You walked away before your smile fell, eyes landing on Gale. Gale stepped away from the entrance and gave a curt smile as you forced one on yourself.

"Gale…I'm glad you came." You said. Not very warm but not outright hateful either. Both of you hadn't seen each other in a long while. You never were very close…A punch in the face at Windsor followed by a lawsuit that made headlines didn't exactly scream 'besties'.

Gale slinked over, taking her time to take you in before forcing out. "Congratulations, YN." Her cool eyes gazed at the table. "I haven't had a chance to read it yet but…" She trailed off. It was a lie. She had read it but something in her didn't want to admit it.

"Oh, well, you can have a copy or I can send you one if we sell out." You replied as Gale gave you a humorless smile at the comment. So similar to what she had told Sidney Prescott 15 years ago outside the police station.

You gave an awkward shuffle, raising your arms then lowering and raising before stepping forward. Gale was never one for hugs and she knew you didn't exactly want to hug her either. It was all a big, curt, polite show in Gale's eyes that she played along with. For Dewey, for Randy…Even for you. She wanted to hate you but you made it hard proving her wrong over and over. She surmised eating crow over and over makes you more…Tolerant of the person feeding it to you.

You both pulled away with forced smiles as quickly as you hugged. Gale saw Randy standing in the background watching. Observing your exchange as Gale forced a smile his way over your shoulder. He gave a nod with a small polite smile as well.

You completely stepped away with a genuine happy expression as you exclaimed. "Dewey!" You quickly rushed over to hug him tightly. Dewey pulled away sooner than he normally would. Gale frowned at her husband. After all, he hadn't seen you in so long so why not savor the moment?

"Hey YN. Gale you made it. Good." He breathlessly gave.

He seemed frazzled as Gale eyed her husband.

You spoke up. "Dewey, I tried to call you."

"And I tried to call too, SHERIFF!" Randy chimed in, standing next to you. "Those protestors are probably running for the hills now with your cop car about..." He checked his watch. "...45 minutes later."

Dewey gave a remorseful grimace. "Oh, God. Are you okay?" You nodded before he continued. "Do you recognize any of them?"

Randy and Gale exchanged glances as Randy nodded and Gale replied. "Yeah, a few. Lloyd Oarth was one of them."

"Good, good...I'm sorry. Something really important came up…I gotta do something here." He took off his hat and anxiously ran a hand over his hair.

Gale raised a brow. "Dewey, what's wrong?"

"Just- YN, I need to do this here…I am really sorry." He moved you out of the way and addressed the room right as Judy came barreling in. Police cars speeding down the block to get to the bookstore. A few protestors on the sidewalk scattered but police instantly got out of their cars and forced them to stay. Gale could hear that much and see it from the window.

Meanwhile, Dewey addressed the room. "Excuse me. This will only take a minute! I need you all to stay where you are and remain silent."

A woman went to leave and Judy pushed her back inside. "Nobody leaves. You heard the Sheriff. Thank you." Even her voice had Gale side eyeing her.

Gale watched some mouthy woman with brown hair and a blue shirt tell her husband. "Can't this wait, Barney Fife? I'm running an event here!" She guessed the event runner was your assistant.

Gale felt a tinge of guilt having said the same thing about him in her book years and years ago. It was pushed aside as she listened to Dewey and more cops came in. Randy put a hand on you as he pulled you towards him.

"Ma'am, this is a police event now." Dewey replied back.

Gale came to Dewey, blinking repeatedly and whispering to him. "WHAT is going on??"

All before Judy stepped in between them to tell Gale. "Gale, this is police business. If you could just let us handle it."

Gale instantly felt that familiar rage filling her at this woman having the audacity to use her little badge as leverage to disrespect her in front of her husband.

Gale's eyes zeroed in on Judy. "I am talking to my husband, Deputy Judy." Gale used deputy like an insult as you watched.

———————————————————

You felt Randy pull you closer and out of the way of police rushing into the building as you watched Gale getting heated with some blonde deputy near Dewey. You weren't positive but you were pretty sure this was the infamous Judy she talked so fondly about.

Your eyes scanned the area, glancing at Randy as he wore a nervous expression. You were sure you had the same look on your face.

Gale spat at the deputy overstepping. "I am talking to my husband, Deputy Judy."

Dewey turned to Gale, you and Randy. "Listen. There's a phone we believe may have been taken from the scene of a crime. Deputy Hicks has traced its coordinates back to this location." He hissed out low to not alert anyone but your group.

Randy blinked at Dewey, eyebrows scrunching. "W-What crime?..." Dewey didn't answer and Randy asked again more forcefully this time. "What type of crime, Dewey?"

Dewey shook his head and walked a few paces. "It's…Need to know for now."

Gale shoved her hands out in outrage. "And I'm not need to know?!"

"SHH!" Judy ordered with a finger to her lips and you thought Gale looked ready to smack her right then and there. You watched on with Randy as Dewey held up a cellphone…All before a ringing sounded out.

Everyone in the room looked around before an officer outside shouted for Sheriff Dewey. Dewey and Judy ran out followed by Gale. You and Randy followed close behind with a small crowd behind you out on the street. A few protesters were held up by officers as well.

You looked confused as the officers circled your rental car. Judy got out her gun and pointed to the trunk as Dewey came towards it.

You stared with wide eyes as you came forward to get their attention.

Dewey held up a hand. "Not now, YN."

You gave him a dumbfounded look. "Dewey, it's my rental car." You felt eyes on you as you said that. Rebecca gave Dewey a sassy look before tossing the keys to him to open the trunk up.

He did just that, forcing it open as a collection of gasps escaped everyone. Rebecca stared with her mouth parted, Randy's jaw clenched as he held a tighter grip onto your shoulder, Gale gasped and stood closer to you as well, gripping onto your other shoulder…And you…You just stared with wide eyes as a bloody mess was revealed. Posters of your face littered the trunk of the car drenched in blood smears over your image. A knife, gloves and the ringing phone lay on top. Staring back at you in a taunting manner.

Dewey quickly recovered, almost angered at what he found. "Damn it! This is an official crime scene now. Let's lock it down."

You stood near the trunk staring in absolute shock as someone pushed you away and you just allowed it. Spacing out as your heartbeat was thumping in your ears and your stomach sank.

You numbly stared at Dewey and asked. "...Tell me this is a prank, Dewey."

Dewey rolled his lips, looking remorseful before shaking his head and walking closer. "I'm afraid not, YN." He shook his head and placed an arm on your shoulder to lead you. "Come on." As he led you to a police car.

Gale stayed back and so did Randy as Rebecca got on the phone and called someone. You looked back at Randy one last time before stepping into the cop car. He had a worried expression with a tight frown. Not even looking at you; only the evidence in the trunk…You had to wonder…Whoever did this; how did they unlock it without the keys?…Who's blood was that?

You saw the protestors that stayed behind glare at you in the police car. That trunk makes you look like what they always thought; a killer.

#finally 😫😪#scream #stu macher #billy loomis #my writing #scream fanfiction #yn fanfic #she her yn #my stories #fanfic #scream 4 #fours a franchise #polyghostface

149 notes · View notes

enkisstories · 1 month ago

Text

A little later, in the infirmary:

Maratelle: "Heard you were awake again..."

Brendol: "Huh?"

Maratelle: "Just wake up already! I have an angry bedtime story to tell and I need someone who doesn't really listen..."

Brendol: "Don't we have prisoners for that? Plus, you can kick them all you want to get the frustration out of your system."

Maratelle: "...but knows when to nod and growl on my behalf."

Brendol: "Ah. 'kay."

Brendol Hux is possessed of even less empathy than Enric Pryde.

However, turns out that after hearing his lover's story, Brendol grows genuinely angry, just like Enric had been shaken enough to violate the not walking on the lawn policy half an hour earlier. Her empire has failed Maratelle today, but the two men whom she calls "friends" have proven to be exactly that.

Brendol: "Protocol violation, my ass! That's utter nerf-shit! What are they even holding against you? Screw the rules! In the end only success counts and you deliver that! Again and again!"

Maratelle goes on listening. Brendol now likens kicking Maratelle out of the imperial navy to sabotaging the empire. That feels good. After all, the empire means a lot to them both.

Brendol: "You're staring... The bandages that bad?"

Maratelle: "Nah, to the contrary. See, we pilots either live or die, it's really all or nothing. Sure, we suffer the occasional scratch, but there is little opportunity for us to get seriously injured. When that happens, it's usually followed by death in space within the next hour. You... you are pretty damn HOT with those bandages, Brenny! A survivor!"

Brendol: If she is attracted to me at my lowest, then she's sure to love me at by regular. And at my best? Woo-hoo, boy! It's now or never, sweet bedmate.

Brendol drops to his knees. At first Maratelle thinks her lover is still too weak and about to fall unconscious.

But then Brendol pulls out a ring.

Enric wouldn't have kept an engagement ring in his jammies, or at least known better than to present it from out a PJ pant's pocket.

Feral Maratelle and proper Enric complement each other, they are closer in age than she is to Brenny, but, damn, if that wouldn't kill him, Maratelle would take her partner in crime here and there and leave the floor a bloody mess. It is this thug she wants (even though at the moment the formerly broad man really looks the skinny thug part).

Maratelle: "From the síckbed to the marital bed? Wedding vows and all?"

Brendol: "I'm not a fan of traditions candy-coating a perfectly natural desire myself. As far as I'm concerned, this could be between you and me and your word would be enough for me to consider this sealed. But Enric will like us having a ceremony."

Maratelle: "Screw customs then and lets make it fun! I want a Wookie ringbearer and Twi'lek flower girls! All kinds of exotic shit!"

Brendol: "Aliens? I like that! It'll show our power as lords of this galaxy!"

And so Captain Pencroft became Lady Hux on a rainy day on Arkanis.

Her wedding gown sported a rainbow pattern, unfortunately the couple wasn't that lucky to have a real rainbow or even the sun bless their union. But few newlyweds were, so they didn't take it as a bad omen.

And truth be told, the year following their wedding the Huxes knew only happiness.

#maratelle hux #brendol hux #sims4arkanis #sims 4 #simblr

3 notes · View notes

dexmckinnery · 2 years ago

Note

Something that traumatized me was Giacomo's official reference sheet with his student look and that damn massive forehead, why did they do dirty to him xD (I sort of grew found on it thanks to japanese artists on Pixiv but still :V). I will congratulate GF the day when they let us customize the MC aside skin color =3= there are chubby kids like I was, c'mon >:U (I get to claim freedom in customization when I in everyday life suffer from image issues due to my flab body pfff)

I haven't finished the game tho, just BARELY defeated Arven in the lighthouse and got lazy with the league sksksks (Same with Arceus, barely defeated Kleavor and gave up on the game :V [Understand for "barely" and having my teams crushed but one survivors for going kinda underleveled lmao]) Might replay both games on my recovery days after the surgey...

Keeping on the characters designs... I have a hate-love relationship with Rose xD I love his design so much and even his dorky personality but the plot of the game was... *Cries* (I was stolen the dream of having a villain champion, I was so sure Leon was the main villain brainwashing Rose but we know how that went u3u)

At this point is obvious I crush hard on fictional men xD specially Pokémon ones but the thing is... it was until gen 7 I began caring about the human characters dkdjdj (I'm not a creep I swear ;w; )

Nooo, his forehead is perfect XD I actually really like that they gave him balding. A+! And yes, they really need to let us choose protag age too =T Please.

Oh, hope you enjoy the ending then! =o If you ever play it XD Well... I’ve been trying to not be tooo spoilerry on the ask blog but... it’ll make more sense if you’ve seen all the Team Star stuff at least XD Playing them to pass time after surgery might be an idea! Good luck!!

Poor Rose XD Yeah... I do remember, mostly, hahaha! I feel like there’s more to know about Geeta though...

And honestly? Gen 7 is when they really started trying with character personalities in the games for the NPCs so that makes complete sense, I think ¦D I felt it started with Sun and Moon at least. I’m so glad they’re giving the supporting cast more personality now

#albiuxgeek

6 notes · View notes

lordfrezon · 2 years ago

Text

It’s 2023

I played video games and became a Dr. last year.

Let’s go over that first one.

Here’s a list of (most) of the video games I played this year, in a semblance of order of how much I think they’re good. Order subjective and up to change. But enjoy.

1. This position was up in the air for a while. Both games 1 & 2 could switch in a week, but at the time of writing, my favorite game I played this year has to be Elden Ring.

Elden Ring is a triumph of everything that makes video games great. Alternative story telling. Beautiful environments. Great music. And an open style of gameplay that allows and rewards experimentation. A triumph of a game by FromSoft and likely their best game ever made.

It's not perfect; the difficulty swings wildly, and like Breath of the Wild before it so much of the thrill is in the discovery that repeat playthroughs really lose a lot. But this truly is the current pinnacle of open world video games.

2. Just and this next game is honored to share it's spot next to Elden Ring, Elden Ring is equally as honored to be next to my number 2 game, Vampire Survivors. A game that is custom made to deliver serotonin directly into your brain. All the excitement of a slot machine with none of the predation. A game that proves greatness doesn't need a high cost, or great visuals, or the soundtrack of the year, just the ability to allow it's players to go nuts and have fun. To reduce the buttons to 5, to take away so much "agency" so players can focus on the decisions that matter. The DLC almost pushed this ahead of Elden Ring. And make no mistake, I will play (and have played) this game more than I will ever play Elden Ring. There is just so much that you can do.

3. I wanted to wait to write this list until I finished a particular game, thinking it might make the list. And at the #3 spot, Ultrakill delivers. Like DOOM Eternal on amphetamines, Ultrakill is a relentless, hardcore, high intensity experience where the only thing standing between you can getting destroyed is the fresh blood of your enemies. This isn’t an easy game, it’s punishing at times, but hot damn is it fun and it is still in early access. Can’t wait for Part 3: Godfist Suicide. Like come on.

4. Is it cheating to have an 18 year old game on my games of the year list? Maybe, but I first played Ace Combat 5 this year, so it makes the list at the #4 spot. Because it's insane. I've got a full review of this one but suffice it to say Ace Combat 4, 5, and Zero are probably the best trilogy of games ever.

5. At number 5, we have Sucker for Love: First Date, which while not the scariest game I played this year (thanks Anatomy! ) was way more unnerving than the silly concept of dating lovecraftian monsters seemed at first blush. Guess that as long as Lovecraft himself ain't writing, eldritch stuff is just real good.

6. Prey rounds out the top 6, an immersive sim that is great fun for 15 hours, and kinda plodding for 5 more but still a time I'd recommend. Full review for this one exists elsewhere too.

7. Procession to Calvary comes in at 7. While not high art (unlike what it's spoofing), the game is silly enough and a decent enough puzzle game that I can recommend it without many caveats. You're a "noble" knight on her quest to kill the heathens when you get told, hey, the war is over and you can't kill anyone anymore. Naturally, this upsets you, but you do get a chance to kill once more, with the enemy leader still being alive and all. So you hunt him down to get your last hurrah of murder in. It's not perfect, but it has enough charm for it's short runtime so deserving of a recommend.

Interlude: I played a bunch of things that I’ve previously beaten/written about in years past, so just gonna list some of those off.

Project Wingman: Still great, still fun. 100% recommend.

Katana Zero: See above, this is one of the best games of the past decade for sure.

Hollow Knight: I replayed the bangers this year, what can I say.

Ace Combat 4: yep more bangers.

Metal Gear Rising: eventually I’ll stop listing off contenders for top games ever made.

The Stanley Parable (ultra deluxe): but that time’s not now. Also this one is technically new and actually well worth it even if you played the original.

Bloodborne: another all-time GOAT.

Path of Exile: This one was real weird. It started off fantastic with the first two leagues, but Lake of Kalandra was turbo ass and had me uninstalling the game. Current league is back up to par, and am having fun, but the future of the game is kinda shakey.

League of Legends: Game is still garbage, but friends still want to play.

Dead by Daylight: Ditto.

End Interlude

Now for a list of stuff that doesn’t make the top 7, an arbitrary cutoff point.

Anatomy: Among the scariest video games I have ever interacted with. It's fucked.

Last Epoch: When PoE was crap, I played this. It’s... fine. There’s not much egregiously wrong with it (except the current final boss lol). It’s less diverse than PoE though so that’s something. But still, fine.

Neon White: I didn’t finish, but I had some fun with this one. Then it started hitting the wrong parts of my brain. Ya know, the ones focused on perfectionism and frustration. So put it aside. But the game is pretty cool.

Hypnospace Outlaw: Best wish fulfillment game ever, I played for 2 hours, realized my in-game boss was an abusive asshat, and I decided the most in character thing to do was quit my job and uninstalled the game. 10/10.

Halo 1: I had never played the original Halo. Probably should have kept it that way because it’s... not great.

Deep Rock Galactic: This is a game that’s pretty good if you want to do something repetitive. But I have a lot of things that do that, and this wasn’t the best of those.

Risk of Rain 2: This one was too much for me, godspeed if you like it.

Ace Combat 7: This game sucks. Except for the DLC. Which just shows how much the rest sucks.

Have a bunch of things I’ve started but not finished (and do intend to finish), but this wraps up all the stuff I can think of for now. Video games good.

#video game review #frezon does a game review #year in review #vampire survivors #elden ring

1 note · View note

mira--mira · 3 years ago

Text

The most self-indulgent AU I can think of, that I am very tempted to write for hashimada week would be a horizon: zero dawn AU. I have no idea how it would be plotted, this is definitely a ‘probably better visually than written text’ like my undying survivor!au and hogwarts!au, but this one actually has a chance to be written.

First it’d probably be a fem!hashimada AU bc horizon focuses so much on mother and daughter relationships. Hashirama would be the outcast from birth, very fittingly a clone of one of the past world’s greatest scientists. Madara would 100% be a Carja and probably the Sun Princess (with Kou being the Sun Queen, ofc. We’re also going to uh, ignore the Carja’s sexism in this entire AU.)

It’d actually be pretty difficult to follow the canon story in some ways, horizon is very plot specific and the world is beautiful, the NPCs great but still the civilizations feel limited in a way. The world/culture building is amazing, they consulted anthropologists to make the various tribe customs and it shows, but parts of the world still feel empty so it’d be hard to make the girls two random people living in horizon’s world and divorce them from the main story.

But if I was going to try and keep to the canon story, I might make Tobirama Hashirama’s father figure instead of brother or maybe have him in Teb’s role, someone Hashirama saved when she shouldn’t have. Tobirama feels indebted but tries to keep to the rules and not talk to her but eventually breaks down. Or maybe he should be this AUs version of Sylens hm... When Hashirama eventually leaves the Sacred Land and travels to the Sundom the story would have to be tweaked a bit to stress that she’s looking for answers but also genuine human connections. (The actual game does this too, but it’d have to be really emphasized if Hashirama eventually got to the Sundom, met a prickly princess her age and decided ‘ah yes let’s be traveling buddies!‘)

The main draw, like usual, would be in their actual relationship dynamics. Both of them are ignorant in a way, Hashirama and outcast for all of her life, and Madara as a princess. The Nora and Carja do have bad blood between them but really the Carja have bad blood with everyone. (If I was actually going to go crazy with this I might make it to be where Madara is still Carja, but Hashirama is an Oseram before the Carja Civil War to really stress the enemies to lovers thing. Kind of an Avad/Ersa dynamic). It’d be hilarious if they got in a situation where their respective knowledge gaps overlapped and neither of them knew how to react properly/deal with it. The fighting would be another tricky thing to work around but Hashirama would be focused on stealth, use her focus to track the machines, lay plenty of traps etc. And Madara would charge straight up to the damn thing with an exploding slingshot firing bombs. She has a few fire arrows too! But the bombs. The bombs are very good.

I also think it’d be funny as hell to just put Hashirama and Madara in various quest situations, esp with Oseram (I’m thinking Petra here) who are very flirty and see the reaction. They’d both be horribly socially oblivious given their early life circumstances.

“Madara you cannot plant a bomb in her workshop! All-Mother what is wrong with you?! You’re going to restart a war!”

“I don’t know how to deal with these emotions, but violence is as good an answer as any!”

Idk, I think they’d be fun.

#naruto #hashimada #madara uchiha #hashirama senju #this would be for a free day prompt lol #horizon au #horizon spoilers #idk?#the sequel comes out in feb but just in case #i have no idea if anyone even knows what the hell I'm talking about with this #but it lives rent free in my brain #ooh maybe madara as a shadow carja instead for maximum angst?#uhhh anyone horizon is a good game #if you have a ps i highly recommend you play it 10/10 😂#tis mine #my rambles that is

11 notes · View notes

tsarisfanfiction · 3 years ago

Note

Sicktember 2021 Prompts

26. Strep Throat/Laryngitis for One Piece - whichever character you wish :)

Quiet Eggplant

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Zeff, Sanji

When the teenager didn't react to the woman, Zeff knew something was wrong. @sicktember prompt 26: Strep Throat/Laryngitis

Picking a character for this took a while. My first instinct was Heart Pirates (of course), but none of them felt right for this and in the end I ended up on pre-series Sanji at the Baratie. I've never written Zeff before, and barely written Sanji, so this was a challenge on characterisation, but it was great fun anyway :D Sanji's around 13/14ish in this; teen rating is for canon-typical language and affection-violence.

Sicktember 2021 Prompts - I only plan on writing prompts if I get a request for them, so request away :D Doesn’t have to be TAG - characters from any fandom can be requested (although I can only guarantee I’ll work with ones I know)

Zeff hadn’t been a man of the sea, survivor of the Grand Line and all that entailed, Captain of a Grand Line crew – not to mention the motley pile of idiots that made up his employees-come-crew – this long without knowing a thing or two about people. Adults, mostly, he’d admit, but the eggplant had forced him to learn at least a bit about kids, and Zeff was a fast learner when he put his mind to it.

He also knew his people, nakama he sailed with, lived with, worked with. So when the eggplant kept his mouth shut and head down when a woman walked in, he knew something was up. The teenager had become borderline insufferable in the past year or so as puberty had settled in and women had gone from being just more people to an object of interest.

His peg leg had slammed into that blond head more times than he could count when the idiot eggplant had almost – almost – dropped food in his distraction. If he was honest with himself, the fact that this time he didn’t have to remind the teenager to think with the right head was downright worrying, no matter how much he tried to play it off as relief.

The other chefs noticed, too. No amount of harshly reminding them that the kitchen was a place for cooking, not gossiping, was enough to quell the worried mutters to each other whenever their resident blond charge was out of earshot.

“Sanji didn’t even look at that captain’s companion,” Patty hissed to Carne as he passed him. “Last week he barely kept his eyes in his head when she was aboard.”

“Something’s up,” came the agreement, concerns they kept at bay whenever the eggplant was around seeping out through the meat master’s voice. “This ain’t right.”

“If you want to gossip, get the hell out of my kitchen!” Zeff snapped, punctuating the action with a solid kick. He couldn’t deny that they were right, though, and as he went out to greet the next arriving customers he considered his options.

They didn’t do mushy. His eggplant didn’t expect that from him, and he didn’t offer it, either. He taught the brat everything he needed to know to survive the world and one day find All Blue, but he didn’t coddle him.

That being said, his behaviour was throwing off the rest of the chefs, and something wasn’t right. Zeff was well aware that he was the closest thing the eggplant had to a parent, and while he had no intention of chasing around after him like some sort of nanny, he also didn’t want to let whatever this nonsense was fester.

So, he decided once the newest customers were seated and perusing the menu, there was only one way to solve this.

As the teenager made his way back into the kitchen, setting down empty plates to be washed up before silently heading for his next job – there were many things that could be said about the eggplant, but he was a damn good employee when he wasn’t being a pubescent brat – Zeff lashed out with his peg leg, landing a solid crack against the slender back.

“Put that sullen attitude awa-” he started, fully prepared to be snapped back at and unprepared for the reaction he actually got. As far as kicks go, it was basically a love tap, nothing that should faze the teenager any more.

Certainly nothing that should have seen him stumble forwards, lose his balance, then end up face down on the kitchen floor.

“Oi, Eggplant!” he snapped, attempting to ignore the way his heart leapt up into his throat. “What shitty reaction was that?”

No reply, not even a snarl of shitty geezer. All he got was a solitary blue eye glowering at him, as though the eggplant wanted to say something but was being stopped. The teenager certainly never held back of his own volition, and Zeff’s feeling that something was off strengthened.

The blond dragged himself back up slowly – too slowly – and Zeff elected to hurry the process by grabbing his collar and hauling him up. This close, the pale skin and slight warmth of his skin was immediately apparent. Everything slotted into place and he growled, hurling the teenager straight for the stairs that led up to their cabins.

“What do you think you’re doing working sick, you damn eggplant?” he demanded, feeling anger rise. It was definitely anger that he was risking their customers and reputation, and nothing to do with being worried about the brat’s own health. “Get your ass out of my kitchen and away from the food right now!”

Around them, the other chefs paused, until he rounded on them and reminded them that they were supposed to be working, not gawking and letting the food burn.

The eggplant was still slumped against the stairs where he’d landed, eyes wide as though the fact he shouldn’t be working while sick hadn’t occurred to him in the first place.

Whoever had raised the brat before they’d been thrown together had a lot to answer for.

“Are you deaf?” he demanded, punctuating the words with another kick, forcing him up a few more steps – if he’d wanted to, he could have punted the eggplant all the way up, but then he’d need to replace the inevitably broken banister so a gentler kick it was. “Get your ass out of my kitchen and don’t come back down until you’re not sick any more, got it?”

Still no verbal reply, although the blue eye smouldered in frustration. The teenager at least got the message, though, and after a moment dragged himself up and out of sight.

Out of sight, out of mind, or so it was supposed to go.

Zeff lasted an hour, past the end of the lunchtime rush, before cursing under his breath and stomping his way up. If nothing else, he at least needed to have some idea what the eggplant had come down with, if only to make sure it wasn’t contagious and about to pass through the entire kitchen.

Pesky brat.

He found him curled up in the window of the communal cabin, staring out at the sea. There was no acknowledgement of his presence, so either he was being ignored, or the teenager was worse than he’d thought. Neither of those were options he cared for.

“Out with it,” he demanded, crossing his arms and shifting his weight in case he had to deliver another kick. “How sick are my chefs about to be?”

The blue eye flicked back to look at him before a shoulder raised in a half-hearted shrug. Still no words, and Zeff had never known the eggplant to be sparse with words when he had a whole vocabulary of pirate-learned insults at his disposal. Not willingly at least.

“Seaking got your tongue? I asked you a question, Eggplant.”

It took a moment, but the teenager opened his mouth. The sound that came out could hardly be called a voice, even if shitty geezer was just about recognisable before it turned into rasping coughs.

Well, that answered that. Sore throat, lost voice, and Zeff sacrificed a moment of pride to reach out and roughly shove his hand against the eggplant’s forehead, to a hoarse squawk of surprise. Low grade fever.

He knew what that was, alright. Probably not contagious enough to spread through the kitchen, although not a guarantee, and definitely something to be kept away from the customers.

Damn eggplant.

“If I see your ass in the kitchen before your voice comes back, I’ll kick it straight back up here so hard you won’t be able to get out of bed,” he threatened. “The same goes for if you even think about a smoke.”

The visible blue eye widened for a moment before the teenager’s face settled back into a scowl. His duty done, Zeff turned to leave, well aware there was nothing anyone could do until the thing cleared up by itself.

Well, nothing except making sure his eggplant only ate things that soothed his throat, although if anyone suggested that Zeff was going out of his way to make a special meal for the sick teenager, they’d get a peg leg to the face. No-one went hungry on the Baratie, and if that meant making food for the brat on a temporary kitchen ban, then it was just good sense to make something Sanji’d actually be able to swallow easily.

#sicktember2021 #one piece #one piece fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #red leg zeff #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #patty #carne #purfectpurple #sicktember

22 notes · View notes

anakinisvaderisanakin · 3 years ago

Text

The Mask of Death - Fairy Tales and Waking Nightmares (aka Vader obliterates a Rebel unit in typical, spooky fashion)

He wasn’t real.

He couldn’t be.

When Viola Perry had joined the Rebellion, he had been entirely prepared for all that entailed. He despised the Empire and its government, despised its regime and its knack for exploiting the weaker star systems and depleting them of their natural resources for the benefit of the elite. Even as a chancellor, Emperor Palpatine had tended to favour only the worlds and civilizations he considered useful and worth a damn. As Emperor, he had doubled down on that mindset - and while the planets of the outer rim were falling into a lawless haven for criminals, while the Moffs extracted every ounce of goods, riches and pleasure from the worlds they had handpicked and settled down on; Perry saw her people waste away. True, she had been raised coruscanti, on a mid tier level by a single father who laboured day and night as a mechanic. His life had not been aided by the Empire’s rise to power, instead, he had been pushed out of service by official Imperial service systems requiring customers to pay a higher amount of credits for a lesser amount of expertise. Like so many other things, there was a penalty to disobeying and neglecting the restrictions and guidelines.

As soon as Perry was able, she fled. She joined the Rebel Alliance, seeking justice for her father who had died impoverished and imprisoned for conducting and encouraging illegal behaviour - apparently, doing a greater job as a mechanic than the Imperial forces was a crime and a felony - and she had been with the organisation for four years now. Four years of fighting the good fight, winning small victories and taking back the autonomy of the galaxy little by little as hope spread like a wildfire amongst those already saddled with doubt and distrust. Chancellor Palpatine had failed to live up to his hype, why would Emperor Palpatine be any different? Perry had seen firsthand just how far the Empire was willing to go, in order to eradicate the resistance fighters and downplay their growing masses as a trivial and unimportant wayward attempt at terrorism. Only the rebels themselves knew that they were slowly but surely becoming a legitimate threat.

Perry had, as had most rebels she had fought alongside, been wary of any information spread by the Empire from the start. Propaganda and deliberate misinformation were only a couple of the tools used to lure the populous of the vast galaxy into some sense of security. As such, she had laughed the very first time she’d heard the tall tale of Darth Vader. Apparently, a mole within the Imperial ranks had shared the myth as a warning. By most of the Alliance, it had been taken as fiction sold by the Imperial sovereigns to saw fear within their resistance. Vader, as the story went, was a seldom seen assassin of the Empire. The tale painted him as clad entirely in black, seven foot tall and wielding mysterious and invicible powers. He could kill with simply a look, or a wave of the hand. At first, the story had begun as such - vague, raising more questions than it answered about this fantastical and implausible boogeyman. Perry had concluded Vader could be little more than a false narrative, invented to instill doubt within the hearts of any nervously inclined resistance fighter.

But, as time went on, more and more stories with a similar twist kept turning up. Every now and then, a delirious dying fellow rebel with haunted eyes and baited breath would ramble about a monster clad in black. Eventually, the concerns grew to a point where even figureheads of the Alliance such as Mon Mothma and the Organas would openly discuss the matter. Rumours said viceroy Bail Organa in particular was inclined to believe the stories, and while Perry viewed him as level headed and logical - that was one leap of imagination she wasn’t willing to trust him on.

It was only when Perry’s closest friend and confidant, Oliwia Blix, was slain on her own home turf - an ambush assault led by what was later revealed to be the 501st Imperial squadron, surprising the freedom fighters she was responsible for - that Perry began to question her conviction. Oliwia had not survived the attack, and her body was never recovered but those who did persevere knew she was deceased - they had seen her there in the midst of the chaos, barking out orders and desperately attempting to call for help through the sliced comlink connections. Out of the handful of survivors, Perry trusted only Juno Eclipse. Eclipse was a young, blonde woman who had once been closely affiliated with the Imperial military but who had become disillusioned one way or another. She never spoke much of her Imperial days. Her insights were always helpful, and she had aided many a favourable outcome in battle. She possessed inside knowledge and codes that were invaluable - and she was firmly decided that the ambush had been a ploy to get her; she was the target and she was responsible for the death of her affiliates.

Eclipse was reasonable, and Perry admired her judgment. That’s why, when Eclipse spoke of Vader; Perry put aside her skepticism to actually listen. According to Eclipse, Vader was the man the Empire sent out when all else failed. He was undefeated, possibly invincible; shrewd and secretive. If he came for you, he would not stop coming until he had carried out his mission. In her case, Eclipse had expected she’d be put on trial for treason when she first broke away from the Empire, but once Vader had been sent on her trail - she explained - she had realized she was no longer worth the hassle. When Vader came to collect, you were as good as dead already. Perry had asked whether Eclipse had seen this infamous monster, and Eclipse had simply chuckled in sullen surrender as if she had already accepted her own fate.

‘He’s not a monster,’ she had said. ‘He’s a man. Or, I think he was a man, once. I’m not sure what he is now.’

Eclipse had said little in addition to that, only that she was certain that he had been present on the planet Cordaan’a where the incident had occurred. Perry got the firm impression that the ex Imperial officer had seen someone or something she perceived to be this Vader, and while she didn’t want to press the already anxiety ridden woman; she chalked most of it up to stress, fear and trauma. Even Eclipse - intelligent, brave and immovable - could be deceived by the rush of adrenaline that came with battle, as her senses were jumbled. That, along with the fact that her life was in jeopardy and that she knew the Empire wanted to see her punished for her desertion, could make anyone hallucinate a phantom such as the propagandistic tale of an Imperial hitman.

That was, until two weeks later. At noon, the base camp of Brakko had prepared for a subtle, incognito transfer. Perry’s unit had been targeted for elimination by Imperial forces, and while there were no signs suggesting the Empire knew where exactly their base was hidden - it was unsafe to stay in one place for too long. As the early afternoon rolled around, every necessary scrap of ammunition, weaponry, rations, credits, and other various equipment had been rounded up and packed away. Only a few chunkier, stolen cannons and proton bombs remained unaccounted for. That was the moment during which the Empire decided to make their presence known. A well aimed rifle shot, and the second largest of the docked freight vessels was blown up in the span of milliseconds.

As its explosive cargo content shattered the clunky ship, the shockwave sent most resistance fighters flying. Shrapnel became deadly projectiles, and as Perry struggled to regain her bearings - the force of the blast had sent her several feet back into the rough, and jagged gravel of the walkway leading towards the underground bunkers - she noted familiar faces; bloodied and beaten. Some unrecognizable, some wheezing as steady streams of red liquid poured out of their nostrils. Perry herself found her hearing was dulled, as if she were underwater - the distant, faraway yells and shrieks of her terrified comrades preparing retaliation blocked out by a loud shrill ringing. She struggled to her knees, instinctively reaching for her trusty blaster where it sat holstered at her hip.

As soon as she looked up, Perry could see the swarm of stormtroopers welling forth from every direction. They were undistinguishable in their white polished armour, black visors covering their eyes. Her legs moved out of self preservation, her chest burning with extortion as she fired aimlessly at her assaulters. A few fell by the wayside, and Perry dove behind the wreckage of one of the smaller shuttles that had been affected by the explosion. Three more rebels cowered there, taking turns firing fervently to keep the troopers at bay - only for the two additional blasters wielded by who Perry recognized to be Admiral Parlak and Sergeant Ilija to be literally ripped out of their grip with no visible cause.

“Come out with your hands on your heads,” said one of the troopers, his cadence entirely void of empathy.

“You’ll gun us down if we do,” Perry snapped in defense, and realized only afterwards that she had spoken at all.

Her hearing was beginning to return, as Perry and her small group peered cautiously over the edge of the ripped off shuttle wing that provided their makeshift shield. Even as her head became fully visible, no additional shots were fired. A platoon of what Perry estimated to be forty stormtroopers stood in a half circle, making three rows with their blasters aimed meticulously at the unguarded hideout. Around them, a few smaller squads mirrored their stance. A good four feet in ahead of the mass, stood a single trooper - his more lavish suit of armour indicating that he was a higher ranking soldier, possibly a commander - with his hand raised to signify cease fire. Perry assumed he had been the one addressing them.

It was only then that she realized how eerily quiet it had become. Her eyes darted around, both relieved and unsettled when she spotted a few grimy, scuffed and fretful faces poking out from behind various chunks of debris much like her and her group. Apart from feeble moans and sobs of pain, and crackling of the fires that had spread from the explosion to the trees and vegetation concealing the base camp - everything was deathly silent.

Silent, until a deep, booming voice broke the impasse.

“Not if you cooperate.”

In one fell swoop, the mid section of the platoon parted like a tidal wave. They made room with no fuzz, moving as one single unit and stood at courtly attention. From the smoke, the ashes and the flames behind them; the shadows of even more soldiers merely silhouetted revealed as a backdrop, came a predator. Even before it could be viewed in all its horrendous detail; its large frame drew all attention. Tall, broad shouldered, chest wide - and with it followed a hissing, mechanical breathing cycle reminiscent of a respirator. At any other time its pathetic sounds may have inspired pity or sympathy, but in this instance; its intervals were decidedly ominous, as this thing traversed the ground littered with fresh corpses in a careless stride.

Towering over and dwarfing the stormtroopers; the looming dark spectre emerged fully from the dust and cinders swirling through the air. Clad in all black; head to toe. Black armour, black cape, black robes, black gloves, black boots, black helmet; black mask covering the monster’s entire face from view. Still, the lenses through which the grim presence viewed the world were tinted ever so slightly crimson. In its hand, the thing clutched the hilt of a saber - its plasma blade red and humming as energy surged through it.

“Please, no,” Perry caught a hitched gasp, frightened disbelief colouring the unmistakable tone of Eclipse - and Perry spotted her pale face off to the side; crouched behind a severed landing hatchet.

“I have come for Captain Eclipse. I have been informed that she hides among your ranks. It is unfortunate for your organisation that she would lead me to you - I, however, view it as a welcome surprise.”

The voice was so deep, it seemed to reverberate through Perry’s very bones - and despite the heat of the flames' licking, flickering nature as they consumed the palm trees with a gleeful greed - the world seemed as cold as ice. Curling in on herself, Perry wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to stave off the worst chill; her breaths coming out as puffs of condensed mist. Still, she could do nothing but stare at the empty, hollow eyes of that face plate. The monster turned its head slowly in the direction of Eclipse’s hiding place, tilting it in a disturbingly comedic manner. If she could have seen its mouth; Perry was convinced the monster would have smiled at the collective hopelessness at its disposal.

‘Darth Vader is real,’ so many fellow rebels had insisted - and Perry had disregarded every single one as superstitious and foolhardy.

'Darth Vader is a fairy tale,’ she had stubbornly countered.

Perry didn’t even have the time to flinch as the monster’s large right hand cut through the empty air. The motion was swift, smooth and effortless - and the bulky piece of scrap metal Eclipse had been huddled behind was sent flying as if it were completely weightless. The hefty durasteel went from sitting completely still to hurdling a distance of about thirty yards at an unfathomable speed; smashing right into a tree trunk which it sheared clean off simply by momentum. The monster did not move, even as the tree collapsed and brought another down with it; but Eclipse yelped and covered her mouth. Perry had never, never seen her be anything but resolute - and slightly shaken once, while relaying her tale of this predator whom Perry had refused to believe might materialize. Now, her features spoke only of regret and dread. Her shoulders were trembling, her blue eyes glassy with tears.

“Did you believe the Emperor would not aim to see you destroyed? Did you believe he would forget you?” the monster mocked, and with obvious sarcasm he added, “You must think so highly of the Emperor’s sense of compassion. I am truly sad to say that I must dissuade such unfortunate delusions.”

“Do what you please with me, but spare the rest,” Eclipse blurted out, desperation in her voice as she stumbled to her feet; taking one unsteady step towards the monster and dissmissing his jeering entirely.

‘He’s not a monster, he’s a man. Or, I think he was a man, once,’ Eclipse had said back then; and while her eyes were now still brimming with yet unshed tears, her expression was one of bargaining.

She was attempting to appeal to this thing’s - this man’s humanity. Instead, he simply cocked his head a bit farther to the side as if perplexed by her emotional outburst, regarding her silently with a deliberate intent to unnerve and rattle her. Perry realized only then that she, too, was trembling not only from the cold. It was as if this man’s entire being radiated a dark, black, vicious hatred. A vile, twisted sense of entitlement and disgust alike. It permeated his surroundings, spreading like a contagious disease; infecting everything it touched, tainting and tarnishing anything it could corrupt. His unwavering gaze and dead eyeholes seemed to demand a cruel mixture of respect and fear; and Eclipse clasped her hands in what resembled a feeble prayer.

“Lord Vader. I beg of you. Let them go. It’s me you want.”

A tear slipped down her gaunt face; her complexion ashen and her bottom lip quivering. Her blonde hair fell over her forehead in unruly chunks, a damp patch of dark blood staining the upper sleeve of her jacket. Vader simply raised his hand once more; beckoning Eclipse with his fore and index fingers in an almost gentle manner. Eclipse had no chance to move of her own volition, nor to deny the request before her feet were lifted off the ground and she was yanked unceremoniously forwards. Her motion stopped only when she was mere inches from Vader; her face level with his mask as she levitated freely in the empty air. Vader’s outstretched hand was steady, holding its posture - and Perry realized with horror that the powers all the rumours spoke of were factual, as well.

“While it is a touching sentiment - your saviour complex serves you no favours with me, Captain.”

There was no compassion in Vader’s tone, the cadence mechanical and stilted - and yet, the words came out an overt, obvious commination. Shifting the hand Perry had assumed was efficently preoccupied with suspending Eclipse in the air, Vader gestured at his troopers and they immediately switched into action. Eclipse still hovered several feet above ground; and Perry reared back as Vader’s empty lenses came to rest on her hiding spot. As before, there was no prelude - the torn wing of the shuttle was simply shoved aside in one fluid swipe. The same thing occured simultaneously to any other covers; Perry's fellow rebels attempting to defend themselves in vain. One moment, Perry was fumbling for her blaster with numb fingers; the next, a stormtrooper had her arms trapped behind her back. Some of her comrades attempted to resist the capture, and were subsequently executed on spot with a single blast to the back of their heads. As they were rounded up, only twenty-two of the at least seventy rebels that had stayed behind loading up supplies remained. They were forced down on their knees; hands on their heads. Perry glared at Vader who seemed to eye them all with a disinterested boredom, but her hammering heart betrayed her collected facade.

“I suggest you watch, Captain. Let this be a warning to abide by. I have orders to bring you off world. While the Emperor wishes no audience with you, Governor Tarkin is most excited to have a word preceding your eminent, public execution,” Vader informed as if there were no other witnesses, no further participants to the event than him and Eclipse alone. “You will watch this.”

The final words were sinister, their implication crystal clear and the demand irrefutable. Eclipse’s slumped head was forcefully yanked in the direction of her kneeling coworkers, the men and women she had bravely fought alongside, who had become her confidants and friends. Perry expected to be anticlimactically shot, icy dread churning at the pit of her belly. Still she was transfixed by Eclipse’s horrified; apologetic eyes as they stared back at her- wide and unblinking, as if she could not close them had she wanted to. Holding the stare, a pressure closed around Perry’s slender throat; like an unseen hand encompassing her fragile neck and squeezing her windpipe until she could no longer inhale. She panicked, pawing at her throat as her lungs burned and the edges of her vision began to fade away. Next to her, the choking noises of her fellow rebels rose; all of them clawing desperately at the invisible hand strangling them unanimously. The last thing Perry saw; pure terror coursing through her veins as her pulse slowed to die away and a loud, cracking pop signified the snap of her neck caving under pressure, was Eclipse’s guilt ridden eyes, and the tears now falling from them.

Perry slumped to the ground, and Vader’s large boots stalked past her crumpled body to sear themselves into her minds eye as one final bitter irony.

He was real.

Then, she was no more.

---------

Posted a teaser before, but I like this installment so much I felt I needed to post the entire thing so here you go. Link to the full fic below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24049894/chapters/79969921

17 notes · View notes

a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan · 4 years ago

Text

@noblelightfighter asked: "How did you come up with the town scenarios? Like Wild trying to bargain and Sky being one of the links who was eager to try bomb-chu bowling?"

I’m really glad you asked this! I love talking about my thought process and inspirations when it comes to my writing, especially with Oops! All Links. There are a lot of sequences in the Selggog arc, so I may as well go through them chapter by chapter. More below the cut!

I'll start off by saying that around the time I wrote “Musings and Memories,” I read James Baldwin's short story “Sonny’s Blue’s.” Baldwin does a really good job keeping dialogue-heavy scenes interesting by describing the characters' poses and mundane actions. I thought, "damn, I want to do that too." So if you noticed another layer of detail in my writing at that point, that was why.

Chapter 15: Inn or Out... Maybe Just Inn.

Hyrule is by far the hardest Link to write for. He has hardly any source material, so all I really have to go off of is Jojo’s comic and other fan content. That's why I accidentally ignored him for the first 14 chapters. So I decided to give him much more of a spotlight in this arc, and one of the few concrete things that we know about him is that he has had to deal with vendors with wildly different prices. I figure, yeah, he probably got good at haggling.

I put Sky, Wild, and Hyrule together because they all have different experiences with vendors in their own games. I decided that I could add Baldwin-esque detail by describing the minutia of them undressing and eating supper. Damn, did I consult the original LU character concepts a ton for this segment. I also used this scene to add my headcanon/self-projection of Sky being vegetarian.

The Links also went through what could be a traumatic experience in the burning town. I had already written some fallout of Time using Darmani's Mask, where the others are mad at him, Wild flips shit, and Time describes how painful it is to use the masks. But Time only wore the mask to save Hyrule. Wouldn't Hyrule feel guilty about that? And who better to soothe that guilt than Wild, who must have felt incredible survivor guilt after the Calamity?

Chapter 16: Panacea

Scene 1: I wasn't sure why I made Twilight wake in a cold sweat, but it could be because of recalling his past experience in "Stars and Stories." Aside from giving Twi and Wars some 1-on-1 dialogue, this scene lets Twi have some pleasant memories of home after the awful ones in "Fire." It also shows his soft side when he lets Time oversleep.

Scene 2: This is mostly just setup for the rest of the arc, but eating breakfast and getting dressed is another Baldwin opportunity. The group also gets some downtime to decompress and act off of each other.

The title and Hyrule's line "And enjoying breakfast together in a warm and cozy inn is probably the panacea for that poison” is a reference to the Flobots song "Panacea for the Poison."

Chapters 17 & 18: To Sell a Butterfly (Necklace); A Sailor and a Ranch Hand Walk into a Store.

Bro, I love writing Twi and Wind together. All the Links consider each other sort of brothers, Twi acts like a big brother to his friends in Ordon, and Wind is the youngest Link. Perfect. These chapters let their relationship shine and give Wind a chance to use his own experience with treasure tellers for what I think were great character moments. Madame Viliafore wasn't really inspired by anything, she just kinda came into existence.

Twilight's line “Uh, I’m pretty sure most shops won’t buy off strangers. They’re trying to sell their junk, not buy yours. Think how fast they’d go bankrupt.” is a reference to the Snowdin shopkeeper in Undertale.

This is probably pretty obvious but the titles are references to To Kill a Mockingbird and that one joke (you know the one).

Chapter 19: Swords, Shields, Arrows

Wild is a knight and knows exactly what he is doing when it comes to weapons. The pose he ends his sword test with is a reference to the BotW Memory "Shelter from the Storm." He tries to haggle with the shop owner precisely because he just saw Hyrule do it, and they talked about it the previous night. He fails miserably because he has absolutely no idea how to do it. I also give Four and Wild some character interaction that stresses how much Wild's past messed with his head.

There's no particular reason the shopkeeper said they were scaring his customers when there weren't any customers in the shop, I just thought it would be funny.

Chapter 20: Mind the Tea

Hyrule got some comfort from Wild and Sky, but I felt he really needed to hear it from Time. Besides wrapping up all the plot threads from the previous chapters, I got to sprinkle in a bit more Time angst and humorously conclude the wallet side plot. I just thought it would be funny to make the events of two whole chapters entirely unnecessary.

This chapter and the opening to the next are inspired by the time I went to a British tearoom in New York City called Tea and Sympathy. It's a bit pricy but if you're ever in New York, you should check it out.

Rolling with the British theme, the title is a reference to the warning all over the London Underground saying "Mind the Gap."

Chapter 21: Me and the Boys

The Links needed some fun after everything, so I figured, what minigame from one of the Zelda games could all of them enjoy? Time said it himself, they all like explosions. Sky is the most enthusiastic to play (besides Wind) because he's generally one of the more positive Links, and one of his own minigames was that circus-themed diving game. I figured that this would remind him of that.

The girl at the counter is indeed the younger sister of the Bombchu girl in Ocarina of Time. The "heroic sideburns" line is a reference to Tri Force Heroes, which otherwise doesn't really come up in LU.

In my opinion, this is my funniest chapter by far. I really laid into the comedy here, because I knew that after this chapter, I was going into an arc centered around intense combat. I absolutely love Twilight's increasing concern over the Cucco, and Sky's line about animal welfare laws is a reference to the "Wait. That's illegal" meme from Red vs Blue.

My favorite jokes I've ever written are in this chapter:

“Games?” Hyrule replied. “You mean like chess?” Wind gaped at his friend in disbelief. “No, games are fun.”

And this entire bit here

The girl giggled from behind the counter. Legend shot daggers at her. She sobered up. Warriors snatched up a bombchu in one hand and patted Legend on the shoulder with the other. “Please, I’ll show you how it’s done,” he said with a wink to the shopkeeper. Warriors’ bombchu was as good as dead on arrival; it was blocked by the very first barrier. His shoulders slumped. “I don’t remember him asking for the quickest way to lose,” Wild teased. “Shut it, you don’t remember a lot of things,” Warriors shot back. “I—… okay, that’s fair.”

To finish up, I'll explain where this town's came from. Back in middle school, I ran a Minecraft server for my friends and me. We built a town and my friend decided to name it Selggog. Where did he get the name? We had just watched the "Lab Safety Song" in our science class, and it mentioned safety goggles. He wrote down "goggles" backward and, what do you know, he got "Selggog."

#my own #I respond

14 notes · View notes

turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years ago

Text

Banished (Part 53)

~Banished~

Word Count: 9.2K

~Master~

*Based off episode 4x08 of the 100, God Complex*

*Bold/Italics are Trig!*

Previously…

“Emori, who is he?” He asked with a slight urgency.

“Someone other than me who’s going into that oven.” She said with zero remorse.

Murphy’s smirk slowly came to his face as he understood what Emori done. “Now that is a survivor’s move.” He said proudly. If this worked and ‘Baylis’ survived, then humanity survives, but if he doesn’t, then it wasn’t Emori. In his eyes, it was brilliant.

But you, who stood right below them and in the perfect spot to overhear, were seething. Emori played all of you, but she played you the most. Sure, the story she gave you about being banished was true, but this man had no part in it at all.

The only crime he’s done was break into the house to feed his family and he was going to die for it.

And it had been your call.

---

You still hadn’t told anyone what you overheard Emori and Murphy talk about during Baylis’ injection but you weren’t sure why. If this didn’t work and Baylis died, wouldn’t it be your fault? But if he survived…

No one would have to know.

Being desperate at a time like this was hard, you had to save the world, but at what cost? Baylis was sealed in the radiation chamber and you watched as Abby checked his vitals for what seemed like the millionth time. You stood back, keeping everyone in your line of sight, but the glare on your face was directed mainly at the couple in the room, John and Emori standing off to the side and pretending to be upset over the man.

Liars.

“He’s ready.” Jackson told Abby, but everyone listened in. You brought your knuckle to your mouth, biting softly to keep the secret inside you.

“But are we ready?” Raven asked as she looked around the room, you refused to look away from Emori and Murphy, not risking the temptation to spill.

“The guy’s a monster!” Emori yelled out and Murphy grabbed her to keep her back, keeping up their act as your stomach twisted.

Clarke turned around, seeing her ‘anger’ before she spoke to everyone. “We’ve been over this. None of us wants to do this, but the death wave will be here in 10 days.” She reminded and you took a breath, finally looking away to Clarke. “Luna’s cells grafted successfully and Baylis is making Nightblood on his own. This really is our only hope.”

Murphy groaned, throwing his head back slightly. “Are we really still talking about this? The Black rain is already here and 18 people died in it yesterday at Arkadia. If Nightblood can let us walk around in it, I, for one, wanna know.”

A silence fell amongst the room as they thought about Murphy’s words. Clarke looked to you, and you faltered before nodding. She nodded back before her mother and Jackson began. You slowly crept across the room to Murphy and Emori, standing next to them as the machine turned on. Noticing your arrival, Murphy gave you a look. “For the sake of your humanity, you better hope he survives.” You whispered as Emori and Murphy’s faces fell and Emori was now glaring at you. You met her stare with a stone-cold one of your own. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your little secret.” Your eyes flickered up to Murphy’s whose jaw was locked and he was making sure no one listened in as you walked away, moving to stand next to Raven. Murphy and Emori shared a look, Emori’s a look of action before Murphy shook his head, letting his girlfriend know you wouldn’t say anything.

Jackson turned on the chamber and the process started, exposing the intruder to radiation. When he was exposed to enough radiation a non-Nightblood would react, he was fine and you were beginning to believe this might work. Jackson kept turning the dial, more and more, and more until Baylis’ vitals spiked suddenly. The machine started beeping and your blood ran cold. Clarke was leaning close to Baylis, looking right through the chamber's glass as she watched the radiation start to break out on his skin.

“Turn it off!” Clarke shouted and Raven grabbed your hand, holding tightly and you weren’t going to let go. Baylis woke up and you could do nothing but watch as he screams in agony.

“Get him out of there!” You yelled and Abby pushed her way past the equipment, trying to let Baylis free but Jackson wouldn’t let her.

“It’s too dangerous!” He yelled. No one could help him now. His screams turned to coughs as the blood filled his mouth and Baylis tried to cough it out, unable to breathe with the burns and blood pooling in his throat. He spat up the blood, lining the chamber and no one wanted to watch this man in pain, even if he had done the horrid things Emori claimed. The flatline on the machine echoed in your ears as it went off, meaning the man died. The man died and you didn’t stop it.

“What have we done?” Abby gasped out and no one had an answer. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the recently decease test subject, the guilt hanging high in your head as you slowly turned around, meeting Murphy’s eyes right away as he rubbed Emori’s back, keeping her from looking at the man she indirectly killed. Murphy didn’t break eye contact with you, both of you acknowledging how messed up this was.

What have you done?

---

With 18 lives taken from the black rain’s arrival, Arkadia hosted a funeral for them. A pyre was made in the middle of the camp as people gathered around, bodies all 18 of the dead laying on top, waiting for the eventual burning. Jaha was speaking to the crowd, everyone listening to his speech as they watched in sadness. Bellamy stood in the back, trying to keep himself strong despite thinking two of those bodies, Mark and Peter Colton, were there because of him.

Jaha took the torch he was holding, letting it fall on the pyre as Jasper, not showing a care in the world, walked past Bellamy and towards the front gate. “Too many funerals, too little time.” Jasper mumbled to Bellamy who glared.

“Show some respect for the dead.” Bellamy chastised him as Jasper kept walking, only turning around briefly.

“Why? I’m sure they don’t mind.” He said as Bellamy watched him, furrowing his brows as Jasper tried to leave the camp with no bag, meaning no protection.

“Where are you going?”

Again, Jasper turned around but kept walking as he shrugged. “Wherever the day takes me.”

“You got a chem tent?” Bellamy called after but Jasper said no, confirming Bellamy’s suspicions. Bellamy took off after him, not letting his friend leave the camp. “No one leaves without a chem tent!”

“Do you have chem tent?” Jasper asked Bellamy to which he received a yes. Jasper smirked. “Then we have a chem tent.”

Not wanting to deal with Jasper today, Bellamy grabbed Jasper's arm, keeping him from reaching the front gate. “Maybe you didn’t see how those people died.” Bellamy tried to get Jasper to understand, but the younger boy just looked back at the still going funeral.

“I saw; I’m just not afraid.” Jasper whispered before pulling from Bellamy’s grip and continuing his walk. Bellamy tried to stop him again, needlessly reminding him it wasn’t safe as Jasper chuckled under his breath. “What else is new?” He asked rhetorically, opening the gate as Bellamy watched on. “Come on!” Jasper called back. “We’re losing daylight.”

Bellamy shook his head but Jasper didn’t listen when he rolled his eyes and took off, Bellamy calling after him as he ran to follow. “Damn it, grow the hell up.”

Jasper smiled; his plan successful. “Good, you’re coming.”

“Yeah, only because I don’t want to carry your body in a bag.”

“Hey, I’m light.” Jasper joked, making Bellamy sigh in annoyance. “I’m wiry, but I’m light.”

“Kom graun, oso na graun op. Kom folau, oso na gyon op.” Niylah spoke softly as she sprinkled dirt onto the deceased, merging her grounder customs into Skaikru. Harper slowly approached her, her brows drawn together as she put a hand on Niylah’s back.

“It’s beautiful.” She whispered to her, making Niylah nod. “What does it mean?”

Niylah smiled at her. “From the earth, we will grow. From the ashes, we will rise.”

Jaha was listening in, his head almost snapping around as Niylah spoke the words that had been taking up far too much of his thoughts.

From the ashes, we will rise.

“What did you just say?” He asked, needing Niylah to elaborate as he input himself into the conversation. Niylah was unsure what he was referring to, apologizing for her prayer for the dead as Jaha stopped her. “’From the ashes, we will rise.’ Where does that come from?”

She shook her head. “You’d have to ask a Fleimkepa. All I know is it’s what we say to ready our dead for the fire.” Jaha nodded, letting the woman get back to her prayers as he considered his options, and what he needs to do to speak with a Fleimkepa and verify the connection between the second dawn bunker and the grounders.

Jaha found his opportunity, taking the medallion Bellamy, you and he found to Kane, trying to convince Kane as chancellor. “It’s not a coincidence, Marcus. I need to speak with the Fleimkepa.”

“You already found the second dawn bunker.” Kane reminded his friend, knowing last time Jaha thought he was on to something, all you found was a bunker of death. “It was-“

“It was the wrong bunker.” Jaha interrupted him. “Cadogan said only those who reached level 12 would be saved.” He shoved the medal forward, Kane moving his head to see when Jaha pointed to the roman numeral on front. “This is level 11. What I found was a decoy, built to keep the level 12 bunker from being overrun.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Kane stopped him, not believing Jaha’s story.

“It’s what I would do.”

Kane smiled through his disbelief. “And you think Indra’s daughter knows where the current bunker is?”

“I think there’s a reason ‘From the ashes, we will rise’ became a grounder prayer.” Jaha insisted, knowing for a fact he was getting onto something. “Just like I think there’s a reason that a corporate logo became their sacred symbol.”

“The infinity sign.” Kane breathed out, slowly realizing despite not wanting too, that Jaha might be getting at something. “I can reach out to Indra. She might know where Gaia is.” Kane finally agreed.

Jaha was quick to stand, wanting to get going as soon as he could. “I’ll assemble a team.” He offered but Kane didn’t let Jaha leave.

“Thelonious, wait.” Kane called out. “Polis is a war zone. We won’t be welcome there.” Kane mumbled, knowing of the grounders disdain for Skaikru.

“We travel light.” Jaha assured him. “For this, we’ll need thinkers, not fighters.” Jaha was already putting together a team in his head.

Monty was packing in his room as Harper entered, stopping at the doorframe as she watched her boyfriend. “What’s going on?”

Monty hesitated, looking at the food packs in his hands before back up at her. “Kane and Jaha need an engineer for a mission.”

“Kane and Jaha!” Harper laughed sourly and Monty knew something was wrong. “Well looks like someone’s moving up in the world.” She patted Monty on the back as she entered the room and her voice wavered. “It’s just too bad in 10 days there’s not going to be a world to move up in.”

Monty stopped his packing, immediately turning in front of Harper. His hand went to her waist as his other lifted her chin delicately to look in her face. “How much have you had to drink?”

Harper stared softly into his eyes, whispering her words as the alcohol no doubt made her feel amazing. “Just the right amount.” She grabbed onto Monty’s collar, pulling his body into hers and wrapping her arms around his neck as she landed a sloppy kiss on his lips. Monty got lost in the feeling, kissing her back and grabbing her cheeks before pushing himself back, remembering she was drunk and he had a job. Harper let out a defeated sigh when Monty mumbled her name. “Duty calls.” She scoffed before pushing past, Monty grabbing her arm before she got far.

He cupped her cheeks again, rubbing his thumb across her skin to comfort her. “We will find a way to get through this.” He assured her. Harper nodded slowly before pecking his lips with her, their forehead resting together briefly before Monty sighed. “I have to go.”

“So, go.” Harper said. “I’ll be here if you get back.” Monty’s face fell at Harper’s words and she caught her mistake, her eyes widening slightly. “When. I meant when.” She fixed and Monty nodded again, giving her a final, definitely not their last, kiss.

---

After the intruders’ death, the moral around the lab had gone down tremendously, everyone was standing around staring at the path of the radiation on the big screen, its final days scaring everyone more and more. You took it upon yourself to clean out the bloodied radiation chamber, and the more you scrubbed, the more you felt you were scrubbing away your guilt, but neither the blood nor the guilt was going away. The blood just covered your hands and stained your skin.

Luna slowly moved to stand next to you, picking up beads Clarke had taken off Baylis’ neck before his body was removed. “The stones of his ancestors.” Luna mumbled as she held them in her hand, looking at you who stopped cleaning. You stared at the stones and cursed in your head. Those stones were going to damn you, wouldn’t they?

You were so focused on the stones, you weren’t even aware of Clarke leaving your side, wanting to listen in on Jackson and Abby talk. Jackson had been trying to figure out why the man died, and he might’ve figured it out. “Sodium polyphenol sulfonate.” He told Clarke after she asked what he found. “It’s an additive used to prevent clotting. It looks like the radiation had broken it down and caused a chain reaction.”

“What happens if we remove it?” Clarke asked and it was then your attention was pulled away to her.

“We could save everyone.”

Your jaw slacked slightly at Abby’s words before you dropped the rag you were using. “You could save everyone?” you clarified and Abby nodded.

Everyone was listening in, hopeful in fixing the cure as Murphy stepped forward. “So, you’re saying this could still work.”

Again Abby nodded, the room falling quiet upon the revelation as you bit your lip. “But you’d need to test it.” Your words served as a reminder that things weren’t just going to be perfect. “The last guy died. I have his blood literally on my hands and you want to try it again?”

“Please give us another idea, Y/N.” you scoffed, looking around the room to see if anyone was on your side. Raven seemed to be, Luna too. Roan kept his glance at the floor completely unreadable and Emori and Murphy- well, you knew what side they were on.

Again, Murphy was the one to speak up. “So we just go out there and hunt for someone else?”

“No!” you yelled and Clarke gave you a sad look.

“No one’s going anywhere in this storm.” Miller shut down Murphy’s idea, looking to the storm moving steadily on the screen.

“Then we wait for it to pass.” Murphy suggested again, trying to come up with any ideas to protect his girl.

You were surprised when Roan finally decided to speak up. “When it does there might not be anyone to hunt for.” He said and you narrowed your eyes, trying to decide what side he was on. You didn’t suspect it was yours.

Luna scoffed as she listened to your people bicker, unimpressed by the suggestions coming out. “What’s the matter with you people? Even Baylis honored the dead.” She held up the stones and your nerves escalated and you brought a hand up to your mouth, trying to hide your nervous breaths as you looked to John and Emori, seeing Emori’s eyes widen. “He wore the stones of his Rock Line ancestors. Who will honor him?”

“Wait.” Clarke mumbled, turning to you to see your eyes piercing at Emori, although she figured you staring at the stones. “Baylis was Sangedakru.”

“He was.” Emori said in defiance, noticing your gaze quickly before looking away in fake disgust. “He was also a thief and probably stole those stones.”

It was a good lie, you’d give her that, but something tells you it wasn’t going to last long. “A thief who doesn’t bear the mark of Sangedakru.” Roan muttered. Everyone was trying to figure out the lie as you and John locked eyes, his full of worry but you didn’t do anything.

They dug their graves, what’s the point in dug yours too?

“That wasn’t Baylis, was it?” Clarke growled at Emori who took a small step back in fear, grabbing Murphy’s arm.

Murphy let out a laugh, needing to keep up the guise they’ve made. “Come on Clarke. That’s crazy, of course-“

“Who did we just kill?” Clarke yelled at him, her lip trembling as she fully came to terms what happened. Everyone was looking to Emori and John and without another word, Emori took off running straight towards you. Your eyes widened slightly before you realized she was looking past you. She grabbed the IV pole standing next to the Chamber as everyone shouted her name. She didn’t get far before Roan had stopped her, holding a knife to her neck as you just stood there, feeling like crap because you had been on the wrong side. Emori yelled at John, telling him to take out the machine before you grabbed the pole from her and set it down, ignoring the death glare she was giving you.

Murphy tried to help her, but Miller put a gun to his head, not letting him get any closer as Emori struggled in Roan’s grip. “Looks like we know who’s next.” He said and you gulped, looking towards Clarke and seeing the look of terror on her face. Whatever happens next, it’s not going to be good.

---

The sun had long set since Bellamy and Jasper left Arkadia, the quiet night in the woods causing Jasper to sigh happily. “I know it’s bad and everyone is dying and all but I’m gonna say it. I don’t miss the mosquitoes.”

Bellamy scoffed at Jasper’s attitude. “This is all a big joke to you, isn’t it?” He asked, furious with how Jasper had been acting. The world was ending and Jasper didn’t have a care in the world.

“Now you’re getting it!” Jasper shouted back to Bellamy, not slowing his walking as he shined this flashlight through the tree lines. “One big cosmic joke and you’d realized that if you pulled the stick out of your ass.”

Bellamy had had it. He grabbed Jasper's arm, getting him to look at an angry Bellamy. “That’s enough.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

Bellamy’s lip pulled back in an irritated smile. “You’re trying to help me? That’s funny. We’re leaving. Now.” He ordered but Jasper had no plans on turning around.

“Damn it, open your eyes!” He yelled at Bellamy, getting him to stop leaving. “The clock is ticking and it has been since we landed on this terrible, beautiful planet. We’re living on borrowed time.”

Bellamy bit his tongue, not holding back his explosion as he headed back to Jasper. “If you know that, then why are you throwing it all away?”

“I’m not.” Jasper whispered to him, a smile lining his face briefly. “You are.” Bellamy let out a laugh, not believing Jasper’s thoughts. “What’s the point in beating yourself up over all the crappy things you’ve done? You did them!” he yelled, making Bellamy grit his teeth. “Don’t say you had reasons because, at the end of the day and the end of the world, nobody gives a damn about your reasons.” Bellamy didn’t want to but he was listening, feeling the guilt of his decisions still eating away at him. “No matter how much you punish yourself, it's not going to change anything. It’s not going to bring anyone back.” Jasper’s attitude had shifted completely from before, the thoughts of his own demons, of Maya, surfacing in his speech as he took a deep breath. “The way I see it, we can spend our last days wallowing in our reasons or we can do whatever the hell we want!” A laugh bubbled out of his lips as Bellamy’s eyes narrowed. “Really mean it this time.” He nodded his head to the stump next to Bellamy, a smile stretching on his face. “Magic Beans.” Bellamy turned, seeing the stump as Jasper shined the flashlight onto it.

“Hallucinogenic nuts.” Bellamy mumbled in disbelief of Jasper. “That’s why you dragged me out here?” He shook his head, remembering vividly of his first and last time he ate those nuts, the deaths of floated Arkers forever on Bellamy’s list of ‘crappy things he’s done’. “If you think I’m taking those again, you really are crazy.”

Jasper shrugged and pulled out a knife. “Whatever the hell you want.” He told his once rebel king before cutting the jobi nuts free and stuffing them in a bag.

---

After Emori’s lie came to light, everyone was against them. They handcuffed them to the rocket, but you stayed back, watching from afar and wondering if you deserved to be locked with them as well. At least you weren’t the one to construe a lie that killed a man.

Emori looked defeated, but Murphy was becoming hysterical, pulling on his restraints as he begged. “She was trying to save her own life! We’re not going to touch your stupid machine!” He kept pleading, calling out names and begging for everyone to listen as Clarke closed the launched doors, sealing them away from you all.

“Please tell me you’re not actually considering putting Emori in that chamber.” Raven asked as everyone made way from the rocket, solemn faces across all of them.

Clarke hesitated to answer her before turning to her mom. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“There’s nothing else to do.” Roan cut her off, knowing what needs to be done. You clenched your fists softly. “We all know it.”

“Abby,” Raven blurted out, trying to appeal to Abby’s humanity. “There has to be something that doesn’t make us murderers.”

“Jackson and I examined every possibility. The only thing we know for sure is that if we do nothing, we die.”

“And we don’t want that.” You spoke out, eyes on the ground as everyone turned to you.

Abby shook her head. “No, we don’t.” She turned to Jackson and took a deep breath. “Prep Luna for the next extraction.”

“No.” Luna said, gaining looks of confusion from the doctors in the room. “You’ve taken enough.”

“Luna it’s okay, we’ll sedate you.”

“I said no.” She repeated herself, growing angry at Abby’s insistence. “I won’t allow my blood to kill any more innocent people.”

On the inside, you were relieved. Luna wouldn’t donate blood, Emori wouldn’t die. That was good.

“Luna please.” Clarke started begging. “Your blood is the only thing that can save us.”

“My blood is a curse.” She spat at Clarke, disgusted in how they wanted to use her. “It will however keep you from following me out in the rain.” Her foot dragged behind her as she walked past the group, trying to head the door outside despite Abby’s protests of her hip injury.

Roan stepped in front of her, keeping her at bay. “We can’t let you leave.”

Luna scoffed and turned to Clarke. “Is there no line you won’t cross in order to survive?”

“Survival requires sacrifice.” Roan spoke up. “If the freikdreina dies-“

“Don’t call her that.” Raven spat out, stopping Roan from using the derogatory term.

Roan stopped, listening to Raven’s order. “If she dies saving the world, that’s a good death.” Luna still had no plans to stick around, not caring if the world died because maybe humanity is already dead. “I don’t want to fight you. You’re wounded.”

“You have no choice.” Luna reminded him before turning and kicking into his chest. Roan flew backward into a cart, making you jump from the sudden attack as you weren’t expecting it. The attack hurt Luna more than she already was as she limped back and put her hands up. Roan got to his feet and you watched terrified of the ending in this fight.

Roan approached her, his fist up but he didn’t use them. Instead, he kicked her knee out, sending Luna to the ground in a cry of pain as Roan wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and held Luna against her struggles as she passed out, no longer thrashing about in his arms. “Sleep well, natblida.” He whispered in her ear. You watched on, a sickening feeling in your stomach taking you from the room as you ran past Roan and Luna and up the stairs. No one said a thing until you were gone and Roan lifted Luna in the air.

He brought her to the table, laying it across as Raven scoffed. “So, what now? You strap her down and steal her bone marrow?” Clarke met Raven’s eyes, unsure of what to say. “Welcome to Mount Weather.”

---

Polis was quiet as Jaha, Kane, and Monty walked up and bodies laid across the courtyard, radiation burns covering their bodies as the trio looked around. “Black rain.” Kane sighed as he kept moving forward. “It fell here, too.”

Once the three men cleared the dead bodies, a bird call echoed through the courtyard, stopping Kane, Jaha, and Monty in their tracks as they prepared for an attack. Popping up from the shambles of Polis, grounders pointed their weapons to them and Indra appeared, marching towards them as Kane let out a breath of relief.

“I thought she was your friend.” Jaha mumbled not at all feeling the comfort Kane had.

“She is. That’s why we’re still alive.” Kane started towards her as well, telling Monty to put his weapon down as he followed the order. Kane met Indra halfway between the groups as he smiled. “Thank you for meeting me. I didn’t know if you would.”

As soon as his sentence was finished, Indra punched him in the face, sending Kane stumbling backward before he regained his footing, sending her a confused look. “Don’t smile at me Kane.” She growled. “What do you want? You have 30 seconds, after that, as the enemy of my enemy, you are my enemy.”

Kane shook his head, easing his way softly. “Indra, you have to know that we had nothing to do with the attacks on your land or embassy.”

Indra stopped him, not wanting to hear the excuses. “What I know is Azgeda marched on Arkadia and you made another alliance with them to save your people, not mine.”

“I know how it looks, but believe me, we’re still trying to find a way to save everyone.” Indra shook her head, calling Kane a fool before retreating and Kane called after her. “You’re fighting for a city that won’t exist in 10 days. The radiation doesn’t care if you’re Trikru or Azgeda. If we can’t come together to fight this enemy, then what hope is there for us?”

Indra stopped walking, looking over her shoulder. “The only hope we ever have. To die a warriors death.” She started walking again and Kane was losing his chance.

“Indra wait, we need to speak to your daughter!” He called out. “She can be the one that saves us all!”

Indra stopped again, turning completely to face Kane, unsure whether she should believe it. “How?”

Gaia was praying to the commanders and the flame as she was interrupted. Indra rushed to her with Kane, Monty, and Jaha behind her. “Gaia, these men need your help.”

Gaia stood grounded, unsure of what was happening but Monty caught sight of her arm, his eyes furrowing. “You tattoo. In the center.”

Jaha took a look, glancing from the tattoo to the medallion in his hand that had the same symbol. “Still think it’s a coincidence?” he asked Kane who stayed silent.

Gaia looked down at the symbol on the metal before taking it from Jaha. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it.” Jaha told her, earning a slight gasp of disbelief from the girl. “Now I believe it’s so it could lead me to you.”

Monty spoke up, breaking the shock silence that came over the room as he asked where the symbol came from. “It’s the holy symbol of our order.”

“Mother.”

“Gaia please.” Kane interrupted her, needing to keep on track. “Skaikru helped you protect the Flame. Help us now.”

Gaia hesitated before agreeing. “It adorns the crypt of the first commander, Bekka Pramheda.” Jaha’s hypothesis was the crypt was in fact the bunker, and they needed to know where it was. There was one problem, however. The bunker was in the temple which was controlled by Azgeda just like the tunnels were.

If they wanted to get into the temple, they’d have to put their faith in the alliance.

---

After you left the lab, you headed over to Becca’s office, the giant window wall providing you the perfect viewing of Luna sedated on the exam table as Clarke, Abby, and Raven stood around having a short conversation you couldn’t hear. You sunk to the floor, leaning your head back on the glass with your eyes closed.

Everything was so fucked. Murphy and Emori were practically screwed and you…

There was a knock on the door to the office as your head rolled over, seeing Roan opening it and lean in the door frame. “You okay?” He asked and you nodded and gave him a thumbs-up before slowly rising to your feet as Roan let the door close and joined you in the room. “Nightbloods. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson after Lexa.”

You let out a chuckle as he stood next to you. “Don’t beat yourself up over that. She beat my ass more times than I could count.” Roan chuckled as well, a smile spreading on his face that somehow cheered you up slightly.

Your new smile however had faded as you looked out the window, seeing Clarke comforting Abby. Roan sighed. “We’re doing the right thing.”

“Are you certain about that?” you laughed slightly bitter.

Roan raised a brow at you but you weren’t looking at him, too focused on your friend and her mother. “Certainty’s a luxury that leaders can’t afford.” He reminded you and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a leader. Clarke’s the leader.” You told him, turning away finally to look at him instead of Clarke. “I’m just the girl too crazy to die.”

Roan nodded, raising his brows to show he agreed. “Sometimes we need crazy.”

“No one needs the crazy, Roan.” You sighed out, leaning against the wall. “You know, back before everything with the grounders when I was just Skaikiler, I didn’t kill unless I had to.”

“I know.”

“Then what am I doing now?” You blurted out before closing your eyes and sighing. “I’m sorry. I just wish there was something I could do.”

Roan nodded his head, looking down to Clarke much like you had been doing. “One day what they’re doing here will be worth it.”

You didn’t turn to look out, instead moving and leaving Roan by the window as your head drooped. “Hopefully I’ll live to see it.” You mumbled, getting Roan to turn around.

“What do you mean?” He asked, having overheard your mutter despite your low voice.

“Nothing.” You let out a sigh, licking your lip before sucking in a breath. “I just think I’m about to do something crazy.”

---

The 5 of them in Polis made their way to the Temple, keeping an eye out for Azgeda they finally ran into. “It’s okay!” Kane shouted after they were commanded not to move with weapons drawn on them. He reached into his pocket to grab the seal Roan gave Skaikru as he held it up, showing them they meant no harm. Azgeda emerged from the city’s rubbles, making Indra’s nerves spike. “Keep your head down.” Kane muttered to his people. “They’ll let us pass.” The ice nation came closer as Kane turned his attention to them and everyone put their weapons on the ground. “I’m the Skaikru Chancellor. As your ally, we seek safe passage into the temple.”

There was some shouting from Azgeda as the seal was taken from them and Azgeda was planning on letting them go. Indra, however, had other plans. When the man in front of her turned his back on them, she picked up Kane’s gun, opening fire and killing every Azgeda man she saw.

Kane was shocked, his eyes widening as he yelled at her but Indra wouldn’t hear of it. “If there’s a bunker in there, Azgeda will never see the inside.” She walked past him, leaving him standing there with his mouth open.

“Come on, Marcus. It’s not our war.” Jaha reminded Kane as he picked up the seal off the ground and handed it to Kane.

“Roan will think we did this.” Monty pointed out as Kane stared at the now slightly bloodied seal. Everyone followed after Indra, keeping pace as they entered the temple and Indra promised Echo would be sending reinforcements against them.

“It’s beneath the alter.” Gaia told them, pointing in the direction as Jaha moved slowly, pulling back pieces and scraps of metal before he found what he was searching for. Everyone helped move the coverings now, the salvation just in front of them.

There was an inscription on the bunkers seal, the symbol sitting pretty in the middle as Gaia translated. “Salvation lies within.” She told them, moving back to sit up. “We were taught it referred to the ship that brought her to us.”

“How do we open it?”

“Like every other lock, Mr. Green.” Jaha reached into his pocket, pulling out the medallion. “With a key.” He moved to place the piece in the hole of the lock, but it didn’t fit. “No.” He whispered, keeping up his tries to get it to fit as everyone looked on impatiently.

“Can you open it or not?” Indra asked but Jaha didn’t answer.

“We need more time.” Kane said before looking to the woman. “Can you reposition your army at the temple?”

“If I do that, we lose the tower.”

“The tower won’t save you.” Jaha told her, refusing to stop his attempts at fitting the piece in.

Indra glared at him. “Neither will ashes of the first commander if that’s all that’s down there.” Gaia pleads with her mother, wanting to believe in the commanders saving them. “I’ll move my guard detail to the temple door. Buy you some time.” She relented before looking at the weapon on Monty’s arm. “But I’ll need your guns.”

Kane didn’t give her them, looking at her incredulously before Jaha groaned. “Just give her the damn guns, Marcus.” Kane nodded as Monty and he handed over the guns to her, helping her carrying them on her shoulder. Gaia started reading the inscription again, running her hands over the crypt’s lock.

Kane pulled out the last handgun he had, passing it to Indra. “I fear jus drein, jus draun will be the end of us all.”

Indra swallowed with her nod, looking to her daughter and calling her name out. Gaia turned to look at her, seeing the guns loaded on her mother. “It would seem you should keep praying.” Gaia nodded before looking back to the crypt, closing her eyes and beginning her prayers again.

---

Music was playing loudly through Arkadia as Bellamy and Jasper returned, the younger boy spirits lifting as he walked inside. “Got it started without us.”

“Got what started?” Bellamy knotted his brows as he followed behind Jasper, confused as to what he was walking into before he saw the party the younger Arkadians had thrown and he stopped with a sigh. “Have fun.”

Jasper looked at him then to the party then back, nodding his head to get Bellamy to follow. “Come on.” He said but Bellamy didn’t move. Jasper rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s gonna die, Bellamy. We can go out like them,” he paused, gesturing over to the group of older men and women sitting around worrying before walking to the much more fun side of the Ark, “Or like us. The ending’s the same, but who says the journey has to suck?” He turned away from Bellamy, skipping over to the group and holding the bag of Jobi nuts in the air. “I come bearing fruit!”

The crowd cheered at Jasper's arrival and Jasper threw them to Niylah who made tea from them. Bellamy stood back, looking around the ark and between the two groups. He wasn’t paying attention as a girl named Bree approached him, getting far too close for his comfort.

“Wanna dance?” She asked, giving him a smile and Bellamy put his hands on her shoulder, gently pushing her away to separate.

“I don’t dance.” He told her.

Bree wasn’t going to let him go. She came closer again, grabbing Bellamy’s jacket to keep herself close. “I don’t really want to dance.” She whispered under her breath and Bellamy let out a small laugh, grabbing her hands to release her hold.

“I have a girlfriend.” He told her, smiling at the thought of you after the day he had. “I don’t really have any plans to dance with anyone else but her anymore.” He said and Bree sighed, wanting to try again but a hand landed on her shoulder. Both she and Bellamy looked up, seeing Jasper standing behind her before he nodded back towards the party and Bree gave up, sending Bellamy a wink before retreating.

“Girlfriend?” Jasper smirked at Bellamy, who pursed his lips, grateful for Bree’s absence. “Didn’t know it was official.” He teased and Bellamy chuckled under his breath. He started to walk away before turning around, pretending to pull Bellamy by an invisible rope. “Come on! You know Y/N would join us!” Jasper called out, not caring whether you would or wouldn’t as he roped Bellamy in. Bellamy sighed, shaking his head and knowing now he’d need a distraction or he’d be stuck missing you all night. He took the first step towards the party and Jasper cheered, throwing his hands up in the air as Bellamy caught up. “Let someone else save the world for once!”

Bellamy nodded, taking the cup that was held out for him and taking a sip, tasting the Jobi Nut tea before he was prepared and downed the rest of the cup, feeling the burn before he smiled.

---

Still handcuffed to the rocket, Murphy was trying his best to untie himself, biting and pulling on his handcuffs as hard as he could. Emori was accepting her fate, telling John to stop. “No Emori, I’m not letting this happen to you.”

“You have to.” She whispered, finally looking into Murphy’s eyes. “John listen to me.” She moved as close to him as she could, being handcuffed. “Make them think you’re okay with this. We can make Clarke think you’re still with her.”

Murphy shook his head, not wanting to agree with Emori’s plan. “I’ll kill her if she thinks about hurting-“

“Damn it John!” Emori yelled at him, her voice cracking. “Think! Don’t give them a reason to pick you out next. Survive, please.” She begged and Murphy didn’t want to want to agree but he didn’t have time to tell her.

The launch door opening to show you and Clarke side by side with Miller and Roan behind you both for protection. Murphy and Emori were still looking at each other as you held your breath, hearing Clarke tell them it was time for you to take Emori. Murphy immediately started begging for her life and you refused to look up at him.

“It’ll work this time.” Clarke’s empty promises did nothing to assure Murphy or Emori, or even you.

“How about we just go with that and forget the test?” Emori asked and Clarke gave her a sympathetic look.

You finally looked up, seeing her red-rimmed eyes lined with previously shed tears as that stomach-dropping feeling came back to you. Clarke nodded her head to Miller who pulled out a syringe and sedated Emori, catching her in his arms as Murphy started pleading to him and telling him that he didn’t have to do this but Miller knew it wasn’t true.

Miller carried Emori out of the room, Roan going with him until it was just you and Clarke. She looked at you, but you just stared at Murphy, your face neutral as Murphy yelled. “You don’t have to do this!”

Not wanting this to go the wrong way, you put a hand on Clarke’s shoulder, nodding away from Murphy. “Go. I’ve got him.” Clarke hesitated before nodding, sparing a last glance at Murphy before leaving you alone with him.

He scoffed at you. “You said you would help us.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell anyone.” You snapped at him, coming closer so he wasn’t yelling at you and risking Clarke overhearing.

He let out a laugh of pain, staring into your eyes. “It’d be a shame if Clarke found out you knew Emori was lying.” Murphy said and you clenched your jaw, knowing he was just upset. You started to turn around, not want to deal with Murphy but he called after you. “No, no, no, please, Y/N, please! Don’t do this, please I love her!”

You stopped walking immediately, feeling like you were shot in your chest. “Did you tell her that?”

“What? Y/N-“

“Did you tell Emori that you loved her?” you repeated and turned around, seeing Murphy’s brows drawn together. “Or were you so busy trying to find a way to save her that you didn’t tell her you loved her?” You weren’t sure where this was coming from, maybe from your own pent up feelings for Bellamy, but you didn’t care. You closed your eyes, taking a deep inhale before looking at him again and speaking with softer words. “Emori will be fine.” You promised him.

“If she dies, you die.” He threatened but you didn’t let his words get to you.

“Emori’s not going to die, Murphy.” You repeated and Murphy could feel how your promise didn’t feel as empty as Clarke’s had.

“And why’s that?”

You knew he wouldn’t take your word for it. “Do you trust me?”

Murphy narrowed his eyes at you. “Why should I?”

“Because,” You moved away from him, stopping on the other side of the launch doors and watching Murphy as the doors closed, “I’m crazy, right?”

Once the doors were closed, you let out a shaky breath, losing your composure as he let out a scream from the inside. Everyone paused, looking to you before you turned around, looking eyes with most of them before coming to Clarke’s side.

She didn’t say a word as she looked at Emori on a table much like Luna was. Abby was getting the syringe ready as Jackson tied a band around Emori’s arm, readying her for the injection. You moved out of Abby’s way as she came over with the syringe, your leg shaking as heavily as Abby’s hand was. Clarke was quick to notice, stepping past you to stand by her moms’ side.

“Mom?” She asked, but Abby showed no sign of a response. “We have to do this.”

Abby nodded finally, knowing Clarke was right as she tried once more to inject Emori but couldn’t. “I can’t.” She whispered to Clarke who nodded and took the syringe from her.

“I’ll finish it.” She whispered as well and you watched feeling yourself slowly sink into reality as you stepped forward when Clarke was about to inject her.

“Clarke?” you spoke softly, putting your hand on Clarke’s arm. She barely managed to look at you, her eyes already tearing as you tried to smile. “We need to talk.” She was confused, looking down to Emori and about to speak before you pulled the syringe out of her hand, placing it on the table. With a spare glance thrown to your confused friends, you pulled Clarke away from the table.

“Y/N-“

“You can’t do this.” You told her. She bit her lip, looking to Emori on the table before you took a deep breath. “I knew about their lie.” You whispered, keeping your voice quiet in the room. Clarke’s eyes slowly looked to you and you bit your lip. “Before we put that man in the chamber, I knew Emori was lying about who he was and I didn’t stop it.”

“You knew?”

Nodding your head shamefully you turned to Emori laying on the bed. “I overheard them talking about it and I didn’t stop it. I told you about him, made you think that using him was alright and I did nothing to stop anything. He’s dead because of me.”

“He’s not-“

“He’s dead because of me.” You repeated and Clarke didn’t stop you again, knowing there was no point. Baylis’, or whatever that man was called, fate was in your hands and you failed. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to inject that serum into me.” Clarke’s mouth fell open and she started shaking her head.

“Are you out of your mind? Do you want to die?” She asked you, gaining the attention of a few people as you tried to shush her.

“Of course, I don’t want to die.” You whispered harshly, pulling her as far out of earshot as you could. “But I’m not going to let Emori. That’d be two more deaths on my hands.” Clarke still wasn’t content with your answer as you sighed and grabbed her hands. “Clarke, I told you when it came down to it, I wasn’t going to take someone else’s spot to live. Either I die then right alongside everyone else, I die now and Abby knows what to do to fix the serum,” you paused with a shaky breath, “Or I survive. Everyone survives. Bellamy, Octavia, Kane, you. I need to do this.”

Being speechless wasn’t something Clarke was used to, but right now she really didn’t know what to say. “And if you die?”

You hesitated, even though you were just getting injected now, in a little while you were going to face your death. “Make sure your mom and Jackson figure out the serum.” Clarke tried to smile but you could tell it was forced, mostly for your benefit. You led her back over to Emori, no one knowing your plan as you looked down at Emori. Her eyes were closed as she laid unmoving, completely sedated. Clarke grabbed your hand under the table and you closed your eyes, feeling her look around the room before she picked up the syringe. She held it to Emori’s arm, making you think for a second, she wasn’t going to go through with it before her eyes locked with yours. “I’ll bear it so they don’t have to.” You whispered. You turned your arm slightly out and Clarke nodded. Right over her shoulder, Abby turned at your words, her brows furrowing before Clarke put the syringe in your arm.

“Clarke?” She whispered but Clarke didn’t stop. Slowly, the serum entered you and watched your veins turn black on your arm until the serum was gone and Clarke pulled the syringe out. You winced at the withdraw of the needle, the realization of what you just did becoming a reality.

“What did you do?” Roan asked, looking between the still black mark on your arm and up at you.

“We’re testing me.” You told them all before looking over your shoulder, your fate in the radiation chamber awaiting you.

What the hell did you just do?

You spent the next few hours letting your mind run crazy with the possibilities of what’s to come as you laid on the bed Emori once did, staring at the tiled ceiling above you. You let yourself think of everything you could, including Bellamy. If this didn’t work and you died, you never would’ve gotten to say goodbye to Bellamy. There were so many things you’d yet to tell him and in just a few minutes now you might not ever get the chance.

God Abby, please have gotten this correct.

Jackson walked up to you, giving you a short smile before you sat up and stretched out your arm, no words exchanged as he drew your blood. You didn’t watch, staring at Clarke as she joined. “It worked.” She said and you glanced down, seeing your blood now black as it sat in Jackson’s syringe. Everyone in the room was on end, shifting in nerves as you let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s been two hours.” Jackson said as you held your arm, blocking the needle mark with your thumb. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’m going to throw up.” You grumbled under your breath, knowing it was nerves rather than the serum. “I’m ready.”

“You sure?” Clarke asked, putting a hand on your shoulder. Nodding at her, you pushed yourself off the bed for the first time in two hours.

“Almost.” You whispered before turning to her. Realizing you wanted a moment alone, Jackson gave you space, taking your blood over to Abby who was rather close by. “Clarke, if things go wrong, I need you to promise me something.” Clarke furrowed her brow and you let out a laugh to cover your sorrow. “Tell Kane I’m sorry for everything.” You began and Clarke gasped lightly, not prepared for you to have been giving her your goodbye speeches. “I know he’s always tried to do what was best for me and I never really made it easy.” Having tried to decide what you wanted Clarke to tell Kane and Bellamy for the last few hours, you didn’t realize it was going to be this hard. You took a second, trying to even your words and completely unaware of Abby listening in at the mention of Kane’s name.

She hadn’t thought about him. Knowing how much you meant to Kane, Abby’s heart stopped. If he lost you, he’d break. She knew how she’d feel if it was Clarke going into the chamber and being exposed to the radiation. At the thought of her daughter and radiation, Abby was reminded of what she saw before Clarke and you arrived; Clarke covered in radiation burns. Maybe this was a sign.

She needed to stop this.

You were still trying to get through your speech to Clarke. “Just make sure Kane knows this wasn’t his fault. Or Bellamy’s.” Clarke quickly caught the change in your tone at the mention of Bellamy. Your face fell and you kept biting your lip. “And tell Bellamy that I-“

Abby stepped into your conversation, stopping you mid-sentence. “I can’t let you do this, Y/N.”

You furrowed your brows, looking between mother and daughter to see Clarke as confused as you. “Abby, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Mom, it’s okay, we trust you.” Clarke tried assuring her but she just shook her head, taking small steps backward.

“No, I won’t let Kane lose you again.” She ran to the chamber before anyone could get in her way and picked up the IV pole standing next to the chamber that Emori had tried to use earlier.

“Abby?” you called out seconds before the doctor swung the pole right into the chamber glass. “No!” you shouted at her alongside everyone else. Abby wouldn’t stop, hitting the glass over and over again, wires and pipes above her getting hit and sending sparks as well. She landed one last swing into the side, the glass there breaking fully before you were finally able to grab the stand away from her. “What did you do?!” you cried out, looking at the completely unusable chamber in front of you. Abby was breathing heavily, her adrenaline leaving her as she panted.

“I couldn’t let you go in there. Kane-“

“That wasn’t your decision!” you shouted at the woman, not caring about what anyone thought right now. “It was mine! It was my decision!” You weren’t aware of how distraught you were until your voice crack and Abby sunk to the ground.

Everyone was silent when you were yelling at her, Clarke being the one to approach either of you. She put her hand on your shoulder and you pushed it off, not wanting to be touched as you walked right past her and everyone, aware of everyone’s eyes on you as you left the room with a weight on your chest.

It didn’t matter what Abby’s reason for destroying the machine was. If this was the final hope, then she ruined it.

---

The struggle to get the bunker open was worse than ever, Kane using a crowbar to pry it open but it wasn’t working. “I told you it’s never been open.” Gaia said after Kane took a break, needing to catch his breath.

Gunfire rained outside, followed by men shouting as every inside the temple become more on edge than before. “It’s now or never.” Jaha said as Kane dropped the crowbar, wanting to help Indra despite knowing they couldn’t open the door. “We were brought here for a reason, Gaia. Think. Is there another key? It would have a 12 on it.” He said pointing to the roman numeral on the front but Gaia shook her head.

The door opened to the temple and Indra trotted in, looking at the still sealed bunker. “I’m sorry but we have to go. You should’ve brought more guns.” She told them, blaming their lack of guns as the problem.

“Then move your army into position.”

“I will not give up the tower for the tower and a door you cannot open.” Indra bit back at Jaha. Kane stepped in their squabble, suggesting coming back later but Jaha reminded him there wasn’t time and insisted he was staying and Monty vowed to stay as well.

“Maybe we are not worthy.” Gaia pointed out. “Maybe we are meant to burn in Praimfaya.”

“No.” Jaha disagreed. “We’re not meant to burn. We were meant to rise from the ashes.” He argued with the phrase, believing this wasn’t the end for them.

“Wait.” Everyone looked to Monty, the boy looking like he was onto something as they pressed him. “’From the ashes, we will rise.’ What if it’s not just a motto?” No one knew what to say. “What if it’s an instruction?”

Jaha looked to the fire next to the bunker, telling Monty to put the seal in the fire and he did. The fire turned a bright pink and everyone was taken back, shocked as they saw the metal start to melt away. Jaha covered the fire, snuffing out the fire before pulling away the cover to reveal the key.

“The 12th seal.” He whispered, sharing looks with everyone before he picked it up carefully, bringing it over and placing it into the lock. It fit perfectly and Jaha started turning the key giving them an entrance into the bunker. Indra turned to her guard standing by the door and told him to guard the temple rather than the tower and the 5 of them made their way inside.

The bunker was intact, no blood-covered walls like the last time, no skeletons standing guard, no signs of the bunker failing.

The bunker was your people's chance to live.

“Salvation lies within.”

A/N: Finally posted! Am I right? Okay, tell me what you think pretty please! I live on feedback and validation and it means the world to know your opinions!

Tags are open! Please send an ask instead of a comment asking!

Let me know if I’m missing someone?

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @nathaliabakes @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys @chewymoustachio @smilexcaptainx @faith-quake @clarkesplaylist @johnmurphyisbisexual @kettnerjanea @teenagereadersciencenerd @ladykxxx08

Bellamy: @jodiereedus22 @mysterioustruffle @danielabetancourth @a-sweet-little-fangirl @werosies @missxmoonchild @gxvrielle

Banished: @strangerliaa @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @abysshaven @poisoned-girl @captainam-erika-trash @annoylinglyaries @peqchynero @buckysjuicyplums @your-typical-giggle @thelastdragon6 @savannah0111 @mckeeee-1 @disneychic8 @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis @oopsiedoopsie23 @crashlyrose @miindfvl @hurricane-abigail @thebookisbtr @txladyj-blog @lauren-100 @mrsjandrews @astroninaaa @broco8 @kittymcdougall12 @capsheadquaters @mikariell95 @acciowinchester @samustar @trashmouth-lizzy @where-are-you-everywhere @smol-book-nerd @cashmereandtears @lilacs-lavender @itsthelastcatastro-phe @sireddobrev @fashion-travel @awkwardspontaneity @jacobblacksbitch @livlynn24

#Bellamy Blake x Reader #Bellamy Blake imagine #Bellamy Blake #Bellamy Blake series #The 100 x Reader #The 100 imagine #The 100 #The 100 series #Banished #banished part 53 #Banished new part #part 53

102 notes · View notes

jeanjauthor · 4 years ago

Note

What’s the duties of a duke of his household in peacetime?

The duties of a Duke are the same as any noble, baronet, baron, viscount, count, earl, margrave, duke, grand duke, and of course the other gender versions, baronetta, baroness, viscountess, countess, marchioness, duchess, grand duchess... But whether or not a noble *followed* those duty expectations is, of course, up to the individual, whether they’re a genuine caring person or an entitled douchebag asshole. (Pardon my language but honestly...yeah.)

Anyway, the original premise of nobility vs. common folk was that because they could afford things like weapons and horses (which made combat easier), they were to protect their immediate neighbors in exchange for being given a bit of support in terms of food, goods, funds, etc. This literally goes back thousands of years in Europe, all the way into the days of prehistoric civilizations (think of the grand burial mount civilizations, for example; archaeological finds have showed that those who could afford to keep & ride horses were given higher status, and were far more likely to have weapons buried with them).

By the time it becomes officially stratified in the records with various levels of nobility, baron to duke, etc, the primary job of protecting the people still exists, but the *method* has now varied. Depending on culture, era, nation, etc, dukes don’t necessarily *have* to personally lead troops into battle. (Please decide this for your created cultures in advance.) This could still be done via raising a levy of home troops, seeing that they’re trained (mandatory monthly training weekend?), and drilled, and ready to fight...but it’s not always necessary.

By the era where nobles are stratified into dukes vs counts vs barons, etc, most of the time standing armies did exist (if small and padded with conscription during times of war). This often meant the duke (or whatever rank) could negotiate for paying for part of those army forces via tax monies that could be used to pay the soldiers or pay for provisions, or products from their craftspeople (leather goods, clothing, weapons, vehicles, etc, and/or produce from their farms (actual produce like grains, vegetables, preserved meats, or living animals such as horses and oxen for pulling supply wagons, etc).

Now that we now what wartime possibilities are like, we can set that aside and focus on peacetime. They would still be responsible for being able to provide goods and services and funds for any standing army, paying taxes to their sovereign, etc. They might even (depending on the culture, think England and its longbowmen, yeomen) still have to maintain a yearly quota of trained fighters (in this case longbow archers). There was a long period of time when, by law, all able-bodied males in England had to train with a longbow for X amount of time a month. A conscientious noble--regardless of gender--would see to this, and see that there would be an adequate supply of well-crafted longbows, and a plethora of arrows.

This training would extend to the members of their own household. In a typical keep / castle, there would often be a bow in every single room with windows or window slits facing to the outside, along with a supply of arrows, so that anyone within that room during a time of battle or even siege could pick up the weapon, string it, and use it to defend against invaders. This means that there would be an expectation of anybody who could physically draw a bowstring would spend at least some time every week practicing those skills. A good noble would ensure that all genders could do so, even in times of peace.

Moreover, a duke, et al, would have a trained force of guards to patrol the roads within their domain, to try to keep them free of bandits, scout for raiders or unusual incursions from a neighbor’s own armed forces...because war with your neighbors was not uncommon; resources were fought over, herd beasts were rustled, taxes would be “demanded” by the greedy from peasants who weren’t in that noble neighbor’s demesne (domain), etc. It didn’t even have to be outright warfare to require constant vigilance.

And of course there would be the need to enforce certain laws. Sometimes it was stupid classist gatekeeping bullshit like sumptuary laws (at one point the only fur commoners could wear was squirrel fur, which made winters hellaciously difficult to survive, and much of the Middle Ages did experience a Little Ice Age, so such laws were doubly punitive, and I hope those who created such laws suffered horribly from the diseases of the day).. Sometimes it was a genuinely good law, like no you cannot beat your wife to death without it being called murder. (Seriously, I would not last long in the Middle Ages, because I’d be too damn feminist to be “allowed” to live...)

Anyway, aside from the need to keep the roads clear for commerce and travel, to watch for neighbors slipping into raiding, to uphold the law, etc, technically a good noble’s next and utterly non-combat-associated duty would be to use their plenty, their excess, their ability to be generous and charitable with their extra resources...to be generous and charitable. There was a long-standing tradition of expectations that a noble would take care of the poorest within their domain. Cottages and daily meals for the elderly & infirm, help for those families devastated by illness, extra food in times of famine, and of course if they owned any of the buildings their tenants lived in, it was expected that they would maintain those structures at their own expense.

Furthermore, it was expected that anyone who worked for them, from the lowly scullery boy and/or goose-tending maid, all the way up through to their seneschal (person who actually managed a particular manor and its lands whenever the noble wasn’t there visiting) got a certain amount of money and a certain number of sets of clothes every year. (Cloth is VERY expensive to produce, pre-industrialization, btw; it could take 12-20 spinners just to keep one weaver at the loom full time.) They would also be expected to be provided with tools for their trades, too--leather and metal for animal harnesses when plowing the fields, plows for said plowing, chisels for a woodwright or a stonecutter, etc--when doing work for the noble. At least, a good noble would help support their craftspeople, providing good scythes at harvest time, etc.

A truly good noble would actually pitch in, too, during heavy labor periods, especially in harvest season when the weather is looking iffy. They’d pull in their soldiers and assign them to work the fields, and even work themselves to get all the pulses (peas, beans) harvested, all the corn (medieval term for seeds of grain such as oats, wheat, rye, barley, etc) harvested, and of course properly dried and threshed and stored...in exchange for a certain amount to be given to them as taxes, to feed for said soldiers and workers, and to pass some along in the form of either food or money from sales to their higher-ups on the fealty chain.

...Of course, as time went on, most nobles considered themselves entitled to all of those items and produce and goods without pitching in personally. This of course has lead to the GOP insisting upon holding as much power as possible without giving a damn about the common American in the modern era...but this has happened over and over and over. The French had a little head-chopping Revolution thing about it, in fact. Not a good look for nobles, tbh, but they really were that entitled and uncaring in their attitudes toward commoners. (Isn’t it fun the parallels we can draw between then and now?)

One thing people in this era don’t realize is that after the Black Death swept through and wiped out 1/3rd of Europe’s population (it actually swept through several times, but this was like COVID-19 to the common flu, back then), there was such a labor shortage that the nobles were literally enticing serfs in someone else’s domain to come work for them, for twice or even three times as much pay, benefits, gifts, etc, because they needed the harvest to be brought in but didn’t have enough living people, period, to get it done without poaching their neighbors’ residents.

The Black Death ended serfdom, the custom of people being essentially bound by law to a particular patch of land as a sort of pseudo-slavery--the phrase “year and a day” was used when a serf ran away from their home patch of ground to a freely-held (not beholden to any noble) city. If they could live there for one year and one day without being caught and dragged back, they would be considered freed...but when the Black Death hit, if you survived, you had a LOT of leverage against the nobles. It really shifted the balance of power and the balance of wealth in Europe, because the commoners could demand a lot more in funds and supplies and equipment, etc.

(It’s like how businesses are shutting down because their workers are tired of being exploited; if these businesses won’t pay an actually livable wage...well, we’re not serfs, not boung by law (yet--watch out for the GOP, since they want to reinstitute such things bit by bit, if you read between the lines of what they’ve been attempting to pass in state and federal congressional sessions) to have to work for starvation slavery wages for our (corporate) masters... Instead, we have a great deal of power and leverage to demand better working conditions, just as our European survivor-ancestors did post-plague. Anyway!)

Wise nobles treated their commoners well, giving them extra pay, better living conditions regardless of how much they needed the work. They sacrificed a little bit of their own personal wealth to ensure that their entire demense (domain) prospered. Those that did not, often caused far more misery than humanity should have allowed...such as the so-called Irish Potato Famine.

There was NOT a famine in Ireland at the time. English colonizer nobles who had seized the land, etc, demanded that all the good food that was growing be reserved for -their- needs, to be sold elsewhere or fed to the local animals. The Irish had to subsist on what little of the potato harvest and a few gathered wild foods or personal tiny vegetable garden goods they could grow...and when the potato blight hit, it hit HARD, and the vast majority of the potatoes were taken up--just like all the other foods--by their English overlords, maliciously causing the actual farmers, the actual people creating & growing & tending all that food, to literally starve to death...or be imprisoned for daring to eat the food they produced, because it “didn’t” belong to them.

So when we talk about the obligations of the nobles to their households in times of peace...we have to stop and think, what kind of culture do these nobles in general promote, and what does the individual noble and/or their immediate family promote?

Because the time you get around to having stratified nobility (baronetty through duchy), you’re probably going to have a lot of people who believe they have unassailable privileges and callously inhuman entitlement rights, UNLESS there are a lot of checks-and-balances on the culture to prevent such things.

Like what, you may ask? Well, we can look at the corporate culture of Ben & Jerry’s, the ice cream company. I don’t know if it’s still in their bylaws, but at least for a long while, last I heard, the CEOs & board of directors could not be paid more than 7x what the lowest paid employees in the company got. By investing their money in their employees, the company was ethically using the labor of said employees, paying them back for their hard work.

Nobles who invest in their peasantry, improving their wages, their homes, their lives & ability to do their livelihoods, will have a similar ROI, Return On Investment--they’ll be beloved, they’ll be fiercely defended, they’ll have people wanting to work for them. We know this worked in the medieval era because when the Black Death destroyed serfdom, those nobles who “shared the wealth” with their laborers got even more prosperous, because everyone who survived wanted to work for them.

One last thing, the higher up in rank a noble is, the more lands & crafts, etc, they probably oversee...and that means the less time they have to know everyone in their domain...which can lead to them “not being in touch with the common people.” UNLESS they make a concerted effort to get to know and stay in touch with those people. They can do this through conscious personal effort, a family culture of careful coaching & teaching, by not having primogeniture but instead a law of picking the best heir to take over (aka not the privileged entitled asshole types who only take & take, but the ones who genuinely care and give & give), or even by laws, “Nobles can only use X amount of what they have for their personal needs and must reinvest Y amount in their demense (lands, peoples, buildings, herds, etc).”

If you’re writing an historical novel with a duke, you’ll want to research the era in which they’re set, to see what the chances of a good guy duke versus a bad guy or uncaring guy duke might be. (There are always exceptions to the rules, but maybe they’re just unaware their policies are asshole-ish...or maybe they really are English prejudiced against the Irish, considering the Irish to be moronic animals that have opposable thumbs...really seriously, the whole potato famine was the fault of the English nobility and their goddamn colonizer attitudes...but I digress).

If you’re writing a created culture, however...you can work things to turn out differently, either by culture, by expectation, law, etc, so that it’s different from what happened in Europe (and other locations).

In my fantasy romance DestinyVerse books, mages have a great deal of power, and often end up in positions of nobility because--like having horses and weapons--a strong mage has the ability to protect a lot of people from incoming threats...but at the same time that they’re asked to protect those around them in a position of legal & cultural power... they’re expected to swear magic-binding oaths to protect the people they rule over, so that their magic literally prevents them from violating the terms of those oaths. They have to protect the people they’ve sworn to protect from various oath-bound threats. That’s a guarantee that Medieval Europe (or China, or India, etc) did not have...though a cleverly worded oath can still allow a mage to be an asshole in many respects.

I hope all of that helps!

#WhatDidDukesDoInTimesOfPeace

#NobleObligations

#answers

6 notes · View notes