#but with the specific distinction that she WILL NOT shut up about phantom of the opera

[lonelyroommp3]

every time i remember that as an adolescent because i didn't know how to just Make Friends i would just mimic people instead and hope it endeared me to them... muffy sis the fucking autism

[scarletsaphire]

This is the second chapter for my first EI fic, with art from @pokkeshii and beta'd by @pricklenettle. There's no art for this specific chapter, but you can find the art keshii currently has posted here.

Link to Chapter One On Tumblr.

Trigger Warnings For This Chapter: Gore, violence, loss of control

Jazz knocked on the door to Danny's bedroom softly. She normally tried to avoid coming into his room; he didn't get a whole bunch of privacy from their parents, and with him being a celebrity half the time, he needed it. She did make an exception when she thought that something was wrong, and she was pretty certain that something was wrong.

It had been a few days since Tucker had messaged her. It was simple and to the point: "We had a fight. Keep an eye on him for us?"

She didn't ask what the fight had been about, just agreed to try her best until they made up. Jazz may have been a part of "Team Phantom," but Sam and Tucker were still Danny's friends, and she tried to keep that distinction clear. It wasn't good for him to only have friends he shared with his sister.

Jazz had kept her eye on him, of course. It was why she was at his door right now. The first day, she'd assumed the moodiness was nothing more than the results of the fight. It was understandable, that he'd be upset for a little while. She wouldn't pry, or try to get him to talk about it if he didn't want to. Danny knew her door was always open, and she made sure to gently remind him as often as she could.

He never came.

If he'd just been moody, than maybe Jazz would still let it slide. But it wasn't just his emotions; he was skipping school for non-ghost related reasons, he was constantly tense, and he'd been flinching away from everyone's touch. He'd go to sleep as soon as he could every night, doing who knows what in his bedroom in dead silence. Jazz knew he wasn't sneaking out more than was necessary. She'd taken to sitting with a clear view of his window while she worked. There was a chance he'd been slipping away invisible and intangible, but if that was the case then Fentonwork's defenses would have at least a record of it.

None of this was a normal reaction to having a fight with friends, and Jazz needed to make good on her promise, and make sure he was okay. Danny was making it a little hard by not answering the door.

"Danny, it's me," she said, just loud enough to carry through the door. "I'm coming in, whether you want me to or not. We need to talk." 

There was no reply, so Jazz counted down from three out loud before pushing the door open.

The room was completely dark. The lights were all shut off and curtains had been drawn, blocking out any moon or starlight that might've gotten in. Even the glow in the dark stickers that had been pasted on Danny's ceiling for as long as Jazz could remember were gone. That wasn't a good sign.

It was only the light from the hallway that allowed Jazz to see Danny. He was sitting on the floor, his knees tucked to his chest, his head buried between them. He gave no indication that he noticed Jazz come in, or had even heard her at all. Jazz turned on the light, and he still didn't move.

Jazz walked closer slowly. "Like approaching a scared animal," her brain supplied. "Or a dangerous one." She shook the thought away. Danny wasn't some animal, he was her brother, who was clearly hurt in some way.

"Danny?" she said, lowering herself to the ground next to him. This close, she could see how his shoulders trembled as if he was crying, how his nails dug into his legs, knuckles white. She could see crescent marks covering his shins, some with dried blood still surrounding them. This was worse than she thought.

"Danny," Jazz said again, reaching her hand out to shake his shoulder gently. The moment she touched him, Danny looked up. His eyes weren't bloodshot and tear filled like she'd expected. His eyes glowed bright green, drowning out the overhead light and bathing the room in green. They burned with a fury that Jazz couldn't remember ever seeing, matching his mouth which was pulled back into a snarl, teeth far sharper than they had any right to be barred.

Jazz pulled her hand away, and pretended that she hadn't flinched.

"Get out," Danny hissed.

"No," Jazz said, her voice far sturdier than she felt. "Something's clearly bothering you, Danny, and I want to help. I'm your sister. You can talk to me."

"Get. Out."

"Is it about the fight you had with Sam and Tucker?" Jazz said. "I don't know what it was about, but I'm sure they'd forgive you if you talked it out with them."

Jazz had heard Danny laugh as Phantom plenty of times before, in plenty of different circumstances. None of them compared to the bitter, heartless laugh that escaped Danny's mouth. It echoed in the same way it did as a ghost, filling the small room and seeming to loop on itself. The sound raised the hairs on Jazz's neck, sent a shiver down her spine.

"I don't care about them," Danny said. "They made their choice. But I do care about you." He floated to his feet, towering above Jazz even when she stood to her full height. "Which is why I'm telling you to get out." He floated forward, and Jazz stumbled backwards towards the door completely on instinct.

Jazz tried to formulate a response, but her mind was running faster than words could describe. She knew this feeling, the feeling of being hunted, of being prey. The same feeling that she got when in the sights of other ghosts.

She was halfway out of the room before Danny froze solid in the air, his lowered head hiding his expression. She could still see the green light of his eyes pointed at the floor, mirrored by the flickering of green in his hands. The energy for an ectoblast gathered and dissipated in his hands, never quite going all the way out, and Jazz swallowed audibly, her mouth suddenly very, very dry. 

"This is your last warning," Danny whispered without looking up at her. She could barely hear him over the pounding her ears. She had no problem hearing him the second time. "Leave!" As if to punctuate his sentence, he closed his fists. The energy that had been building in them disappeared with a pop, accompanied by the sound of the lights in the hallway and Danny's room shattering.

Jazz didn't remember backing all the way into the hallway, or closing the door behind her, but it must have happened because now she was in the dark hallway, and Danny was on the other side of the door. She was safe.

Jazz admonished the voice in her head again. She'd always been safe. Danny wouldn't hurt her, would never hurt her. She could almost convince herself to believe it.

It still wasn't enough to get her to open the door again.

---

Tucker tried to focus on school, he really did. His grades needed it. But try as he might, he couldn't stop thinking about Danny.

It wasn't as gay as it sounded. It was just that he had a good half of his classes with Danny, a tactic carefully planned so that whenever they needed to, they could dip with him. Even the classes he didn't have with Danny, he had to pass him in the halls, and every time Tucker saw him, he looked worse than he had before. It was impressive, in the sad way a lot of things about Danny's life was impressive.

Danny had been looking rough for a while now, even before their fight. Tucker could tell that he thought he was hiding it well, but he wasn't. At least not to someone who'd known Danny when he was in diapers. He'd been jumpier lately, easily distracted, and always tense. Tucker had tried asking about it, but Danny had always given a half baked excuse about not sleeping well, or exams, or his parents, or a thousand other things, and Tucker would let the conversation drop.

If he didn't want to talk about it, Tucker wasn't going to be the one to force him.

After the fight between Sam and Danny, (Tucker refused to say he was a part of it. If anything, he was an unwitting bystander, caught in the tide of Sam's fury.) he'd somehow managed to get worse. He'd always been pale, even before the accident, but now he seemed sickly. He was constantly drenched in a cold sweat, and sometimes Tucker thought he could see the dirty brown of dried blood caked under Danny's nails.

He should say something. He needed to say something. Danny was his best friend, had been forever, and a best friend didn't let the other suffer.

But Sam did have a point. Besides whatever had been bothering Danny lately, he'd gotten more and more distant. Disappearing after every fight, refusing to transform in front of them, never telling them anything about pretty much anything that was happening in his life. They'd tried everything to get him to talk, to tell them anything, but he'd stayed resolutely quiet about it. He'd probably stay quiet about it this time, too.

Maybe Sam was right. Maybe Danny just needed a couple days to go through whatever he was dealing with alone, just enough time to realize how much it sucked, and then he'd come back to them.

Tucker tore his eyes from where Danny sat in the back of the classroom, hands clenched around the metal frame of the desk hard enough for them to bend looking back at the board. He hoped that was the case.

---

The relief Danny felt when he transformed into Phantom was so palpable he nearly cried. He hadn't gone ghost since the fight against Ember, and the vibrations had gotten so bad he couldn't do anything but sit there and try to ignore them with no success.

Now they were gone, and even the voice in his head was a welcome relief, even if it was so much louder, so much more insistent, and sounded so much more reasonable. He was far too happy about fitting back in his skin to worry about that.

Danny didn't get the chance to bask in the feeling for long. He'd transformed for a reason. Somebody was out and about, and by the number of people in the nurse’s office for freak technology malfunctions? Danny had a pretty good idea who.

The only surprising part was that Technus hadn't come over the loudspeakers to announce his presence to the world yet. It was honestly kind of rude of him. It would be so much easier if Danny could just get to the fun part already.

He floated through the halls of Casper High, grateful that class was currently in session. Sure, he was invisible right now, but that didn't matter. He would still get distracted either way. The voice was impatient, after all. It had been too long without a proper outlet. 

Finding Technus wasn't difficult by any means. Just as Danny had suspected, he was camped out in the computer lab, cackling quietly to himself as he transferred between the monitors. There were no students in the room right now. Good. No one would be in the way.

Danny reached into the computer currently displaying Technus's face, grabbing a hold of the only thing in there he couldn't go through and pulled. Technus came tumbling out, catching himself midair.

"Why hello ghost child!" he called as he righted himself. "I see that you have found me, despite my incredible new stealth prowess. No matter! My plans are almost completed, and you will be no match. Behold, I, master of all things wired and WiFi, have created life!" He raised his hands dramatically. Nothing happened.

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"Be patient!" Technus snapped, before turning around to the computer he'd been dragged out of. He clicked a couple keys on the keyboard, before turning back to Danny. This time, there was a textbox on the screen. All it read was "Hi!"

"Still not impressed," Danny said.

"That is because you do not understand the scope of my genius!" Technus called. "I have created true artificial intelligence, and with its power, I will be unstoppable." Technus started cackling maniacally.

He was through the wall and plummeting to the ground barely a second later, Danny flying after him. "I do not have the patience for you today, Technus," Danny said. Technus clearly hadn't even managed to process what had happened before Danny angled himself to kick him into the ground. The car Technus landed on was totaled, the car alarm blaring loudly.

Danny barely processed the sound, far too distracted by the rush of adrenaline that pounded in his ears and the flood of ecstasy that came from his mind and body finally being quiet. He didn't wait for Technus to reply. He wasn't here to banter. He was here to fight.

He dived headfirst, charging an ectoblast as he plummeted. For his part, Technus had realized what was happening enough to dodge out of the way. Danny didn't bother slowing down to redirect himself. He fired his ectoblast straight down, using it to change his trajectory and launching himself at Technus, landing another kick. Three more car alarms joined the sound. Danny didn't notice.

The pavement crumbled from the force of Technus's fall. He shook off the rubble as he floated back into the air. "I see that we are going all out, as the youths say!" Technus shouted, gathering electricity in his hands. "Well, do not fear ghost child, for I will also-" He was met with a fist in the face, ice crawling across his ectoplasmic skin.

Danny smiled as he watched Technus struggle. It hadn't been a very well thought out idea, just a passing thought really, but it had worked beautifully. He'd frozen his hand to Technus's face, and the only way to separate them would be to peel away the ice and whatever parts of Technus it brought with it. Which meant that while Technus was busy with that, Danny was free to whale on him as much as he pleased.

He made sure to take full advantage of it.

When Technus finally wrenched himself free, the half of his face Danny had punched was a cavity of missing ectoplasm, and his arm hung limply, dripping bright green on the pavement below. "I don't know who urinated on your servos," he slurred, floating backwards. "But I don't want any part of it. I, the Great Technus, surrender. Just put me in soup time."

Danny laughed at this, pointedly not reaching for the thermos that sat on his hip. "Not this time." He took a purposeful step forward despite the fact he was flying. "We're going to do this a little different today. Play a fun little game." Another step. "You're going to go back to the portal on your own accord. You're going to go back to the Ghost Zone, and you're going to fucking stay there." Another step. "And if I catch you before you get there, then I'll make sure there's not enough of you left to return to the Ghost Zone." Another step, and he was inches away from Technus's broken face. "Do you understand?"

Technus nodded. 

"Wonderful. Now, off you go!" Danny waved him away, and Technus took off flying faster than Danny had ever seen him fly before.

He was almost about to chase after him, to make good on his promise, when he froze. There was something about Technus's face that was wrong, and not just the damage Danny had done. Something Danny had seen before, but never on him.

Technus had been scared.

And why wouldn't he have been? The rest of Technus's face broke through the relief that had been clouding Danny's brain. He'd been completely mauled, nearly past the point of recognition, all because of Danny. Of course he'd be scared.

Danny looked down at his hands, positively drenched in ectoplasm. His suit was stained green. His mouth was coated with the distinctive acrid taste of the stuff. Had he bitten Technus? He couldn't remember.

He couldn't remember , and it hadn't even been a few minutes ago. Danny fell to the ground hard, not bothering to slow his fall. He landed on one of the already totaled cars, the alarm finally registering. He looked around the parking lot numbly. It was a mess. Even worse than some of his earlier ghost fights had been. He hadn't caused this kind of destruction in months, maybe even longer, and certainly not against a ghost as easy as Technus. 

What had he done?

Exactly what you should have done. The voice was back. When had it left? Danny couldn't remember that either. Had it left? Or had it just been so loud that he couldn't think anything else? He wouldn't let himself think of the other possibility. He wouldn't.

Even if that was the most likely answer.

Danny floated back into the sky, slowly at first and then picking up speed. He didn't bother figuring out which direction he was going, didn't bother thinking of a destination. He just chose a direction and flew.

[themaribatpit]

Saturday Challenge: Double Crossover

Written by: The Maribat Pit   Prompt: Double Crossover Rated: M rating just to be safe (sexual references, mostly because of some very unsavory things Lila thinks and implies about Marinette.) Marinette x Jason Phantom of the Opera (specifically Hush Jason, from 2020′s Death in the Family).

A/N (Maribat fangirl): There is going to be a lot of class salt, Lila salt and some heavy duty character bashing.  I’m going to be upfront, there’s characters being called harlots. A/N (DC fanboy): My S.O. and I pretty much did karaoke while writing this.

Paris, 1875. Marinette worked in her parents bakery, while she loved her family dearly, she was dissatisfied with her current lot in life. She wished to become a singer, and everyday as she walked in the streets of Paris to bring flour to the bakery, she would stop and stare at the Conservatoire de Paris. The enchanting music and singing could be heard even in the streets.

Listening to music always reminded her of her favourite fairy tale told by her father, the one about  ‘Angel of Music’. She would sit on the street across the Conservatoire, close her eyes and listen to the beautiful music emanating from it. Once she tried to sing along, but passersby would be swift to yell at her to stop. They described her voice sounding like a rusty hinge.

Upon her 15th birthday, her parents presented to her a once in a lifetime opportunity. They had presented her with an approved application to the Conservatoire, they had saved enough money for tuition and would be sending her there to chase her dreams as an opera singer. Marinette held her parents tightly, thanking them constantly for the amazing opportunity.

That night, Marinette was unable to sleep, she was beaming with energy and excitement. She could not believe how her luck was changing, how she would be going to the musical academy of her dreams.

The next morning however she would be in a nervous panic for her first day of lessons. Running about the home, getting prepared, packing her bags. She even forgot to eat breakfast, she ran out the door with a croissant in her mouth, much to the chagrin of her parents.

However, her dream academy soon became a waking nightmare to her. She would be tormented daily by all her peers, especially one Lila Rossi, the prima donna of the academy. Every professor would sneer at her low birth, and did nothing when the others tried to sabotage her standing at the Academy.  She tried to keep her head held high, even as everyone else looked down on her for being a baker’s daughter. Marinette ignored the comments and rumours about how she was able to attend the prestigious academy.  Rumours that she dared not repeat, about how she and her parents must be criminals if they were able to afford to send her to the academy.  

It wasn’t enough for her to be stuck in the chorus, Lila Rossi wanted to make sure her place as prima donna of the academy was ironclad. A couple of the teachers felt that she was growing more temperamental, more complacent, and their eyes began to wander for a dancer to take her place.  The other dancers were unwilling to take her place, all except for Marinette, who saw it as a shining opportunity.  For Lila, this simply would not stand.  

The one time Marinette found a pair of scissors that had been used to cut the laces on her pointe shoes.  The same scissors that were missing from her sewing box days earlier. She decided that the time had come to confront Lila once and for all.

Marinette confronted her just before rehearsals began, scissors in hand, in front of everyone.  “Is it true?” she called, everyone turned to look at them.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lila gasped.  She looked down to see her wearing her worn out slippers, before looking back up at her face.  “You do know you’re meant to be wearing your toe shoes now, right? The show is in a few days.” she reminded her.

“I do,” she breathed, “I also know it was you, you’re the one who cut the laces on my pointe shoes.”

Lila gasped and stepped back, everyone else was shocked by the accusation. She looked away for a moment, and squeezed her eyes shut.  Marinette knew the trick well from their acting classes at the academy, she was getting ready to make it look like she was crying.  “Why? Why would you accuse me of something like this?” she made sure her voice wavered as she spoke, “what reason do I have to sabotage a background dancer’s shoes?”

Marinette knew she had lost the battle before it had even begun, every dancer would move to protect Lila and her crocodile tears.  Lila was the prima donna, the daughter of a diplomat, and she had the entire academy in the palm of her hand.  “Perhaps there was some mistake,” she muttered, walking away from her classmates rushing to defend Lila’s fake tears.  It was useless trying to explain that the scissors were stolen from her, and that this was an elaborate setup.  It was her word against Lila’s, as the directors tried to command the dancer’s attention, Marinette ran.  

Once again, she tried to keep her head held high, it wasn’t as if anyone would believe her when she told them about Lila’s machinations.   She made a habit of keeping her costumes and pointe shoes hidden.  On occasion bringing them home whenever she visited her parent’s bakery, somewhere that little saboteur would not even think to look for them.

Months later, tragedy struck again when she received a letter informing her that her parent’s bakery had been burned.  Her parents, her hopes, her dreams all burned to ash in one night.  It was made worse by the fact that one rehearsal, Lila snatched the letter out of her hands and read it aloud for the entire company of dancers and singers to hear.   She assumed that it would be some kind of love note, probably preparing to spread rumours about Marinette sneaking off into the night with a mystery lover.  Instead, Lila simply made a show of pitying Marinette, “poor thing, it’s worse than I thought.  Unless you can find a patron to support you, your days at the academy are going to be numbered.”

Just as the theatre managers had arrived, Marinette fled, keeping her head down as tears were welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision.  Since the day she arrived she had been mocked, humiliated, tormented simply so that one girl could have the adoration and sympathy of her fellow performers.  Through all the salacious rumours and lies, she tried her best to ignore them and carry herself through it all.  The loss of her parents, their bakery, and now Marinette’s hopes and dreams, it was all too much to bear.  

Marinette ran to an empty music room to cry her heart out, she sat right against the wall, knees curled up to her chest and sobbed into her legs. In this state of absolute despair, she began to sing a song of her favourite fairy tale that her father would sing to her whenever she had a nightmare.  She sang a soft, painful prayer for the Angel of Music and a farewell to her lost parents. “Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye…”, her singing was hoarse, off key, full of sorrow.

The more she sang, the harder she cried. Soon to the point that she could not complete the song. However, a disembodied voice sang the remaining verse for her. Marinette paused from her crying to look for the voice, it felt as if it came from everywhere and nowhere. It was hypnotising, elegant, enchanting. She walked out of the music room to try to find the source of the singing.

“Come to me, Angel of Music.” The voice sang, in a smooth tenor voice, luring Marinette as if she was a moth attracted to a flame. The voice led her to a musical hall, reserved only for the academy’s annual showcase. She turned the door knob, to her surprise, the door was unlocked. She peeked her head through the door to see a cloaked figure playing the organ, the source of the enchanting voice. “Insolent girl, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory.” The figure angrily sang “Ignorant fool, this prima donna.”

“Angel of Music, is that you?” Marinette tentatively asked the figure. The figure stopped playing, and turned around to face her. Marinette was taken aback by the figure, he was a tall man, wearing a red mask on the left side of his face. Another distinctive feature other than his magnificent voice was the white streak of hair and piercing green eyes.

“You are unlike any of the fools in this academy. You did not join this academy for fame or fortune. No, you came here because of your love of music.” The figure told her. He took a deep breath and composed himself, straightening his jacket. Then he raised an arm, reaching out to Marinette. “I am your Angel of Music, come to me Angel of Music.”  Marinette walks forward and accepts the Angel’s hand, thus beginning their first musical lesson together.

Marinette’s talent and ability in music skyrocketed with her extra-curricular lessons.   Her mysterious patron was also the one continuing to fund her education at the academy.  Meanwhile, no one else had the time to spread rumours about Marinette, not when there were rumours of a ghost haunting the Conservatoire.  

Unbeknownst to Marinette, she was the key to establishing control over a very profitable endeavour for her mysterious patron. The managers were being extorted to the tune of 20,000 francs and requested that box five remain open.  This money was nothing to them, especially when the sons and daughters of the wealthy and powerful were attending.  Very few had seen Jason’s face, and if they did, they would draw back in fear.   It was the result of a boyhood accident that left him changed and altered in more ways than one.  Taking control of the Conservatoire was merely the first step in taking control of an entire city.  This girl, Marinette, was the key to captivating their attention.  She would hold their attention and adoration as the rising star of the academy, drawing their eyes away from his growing influence and power.  Using talents and potential that they had cast aside, twisting their own hubris against them.  

Months later, everyone in the academy worked towards its annual showcase for its patrons, the nobility and all family members of its students. Lila had grown bored of tormenting Marinette, and had moved on to other victims.  She had her other dancers and singers wrapped around her little finger, and all eyes would be on her at the annual showcase.  

At last the day of the annual showcase had arrived, Lila sat at her personal preparation room, after all she would be the star of the show. She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, she then screamed in horror to see her dress tattered and in pieces.

In the days leading to the showcase the Director of Conservatoire de Paris had received threatening letters demanding 20,000 Francs, box 5 to remain vacant and worse of all to replace Lila Rossi with some baker’s daughter. Director Bourgeois scoffed at the threats, tossing the letter away.

The next day during the rehearsal for one of the ballet numbers, students and teachers paid no mind to the threats that were outlined in the letter. Until one of the dancers looked up and gasped in horror. The other dancers looked up to find the stagehand hanging from the rafters. The theatre soon bursts into screams of fear as they all see the dead body of the stagehand.   Director Bourgeois ordered all faculty members and students present to remain silent of the murder. This prestigious institution could not afford such a scandal this close to such an important showcase. As the Director inspected the body, he found a letter titled to him attached to the corpse of a stagehand.

Director Bourgeois read the second letter with shaky hands, it read “Monsieur Bourgeois, good day to you. It seems you did not take my threat seriously. I present to you this corpse to show my sincerity. I see you have a young daughter, pray that no harm would befall her. I shall reiterate my demands, 20,000 francs, box five remain vacant and Mademoiselle Marinette shall replace the harlot Lila Rossi.”

Director Bourgeois collapsed into his chair, wiping his sweat. Until he heard a scream from outside his office. He ran out as fast as he could to see Lila Rossi confronting Marinette. Crocodile tears flowed from Lila’s eyes as she accused Marinette of sabotage, purposefully doing so in front of the Director's office.  

“How could you Marinette?” Lila wailed, “Whatever your reasons, how could you do this to me? To the Conservatoire?”

Marinette merely said “Lila, don’t you stay in a private room with guards patrolling the hallway outside?” She shrugs, “I was in my dormitory last night. Besides, how could anyone sneak into your room at night, unless they were a phantom?”

Director Bourgeois goes pale at Marinette’s implication, he had to intervene quickly, before the situation got worse. He attempted to placate Lila, “Now now mademoiselles, I can’t punish anybody unless we have solid evidence. As the saying goes ‘the show must go on.’ Signora Rossi, as you are currently unable to perform, I’m afraid Mademoiselle Marinette will have to take your place.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the offer given to her, she could not believe it. Director Bourgeois himself offered her the star role for this year’s showcase. It is all as her Angel of Music said would happen. She accepted the role wholeheartedly and thanked the director profusely, she skipped back to the musical hall to begin rehearsals, now as the main lead.

Lila’s jaw dropped to see the director siding against her, how he gave away her role to that peasant without any hesitation. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, she stomped her way back to her bedroom to begin scheming the ultimate humiliation for Marinette. She was so distracted with her rage, she had not noticed a shadowy figure following her.

Lila planned to show the entire Opera house just who Marinette was, little more than a filthy peasant who got lucky.  She was supposed to have packed her bags and left months ago, after her parents and their pathetic little bakery burned down.  “This Opera Phantom had a lot of nerve calling me a harlot, when Marinette is probably his little harlot.” she muttered harshly in the darkness.  She searched the costume room for the lead actress’ dress, a long flowing gown that brushed against the floor.  It was made with the finest fabrics that money could buy, it almost broke Lila’s heart to sabotage it.  She would rather die than see it worn by some peasant girl, a pretender, a talentless sham of a performer.  Before she can lay hand on the dress to destroy it, a gloved hand reaches out and grabs her by the wrist.  A voice interrupts her, “What do you think you are doing with that?”

Lila slowly turns around to see a grotesque figure staring at her.  In the candlelight, she was horrified by the person she saw. The left half of his face was severely burned, almost completely disfigured. His bright green eyes flared with a fury that genuinely terrified Lila as the figure glared at her. She immediately drops everything and screams, as she runs out the door as fast as her legs would carry her, wailing and screaming how the ghost is trying to kill her. “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!” she wails as he chases her down. The Phantom pursues his prey. Just as Lila runs around a corner, the ghost is there waiting for her. She gives another horrified scream, falling to the floor and trying to crawl in the opposite direction. “No no no, please don't kill me!” She begged as tears blurred her vision.

Her howls and pleas of mercy attract nearby students, teachers and guards. They all arrive to see Lila screaming like a maniac on the floor, alone and raving about some ghost hunting her down. “The ghost is real! He is real I tell you! He’s going to kill me!” she sobbed. As Lila was being escorted out of the academy, gossip spread like wildfire. Within hours everyone would be talking about how Lila had lost all of her sanity because of the ghost.

They had no other choice at that moment, the show had to go on.  If they wanted the night to go smoothly, with no one noticing anything strange or peculiar, they had to meet the Phantom’s demands.  Marinette stood there, centre stage, with all of Paris’ most influential in the audience. She began to sing her show stopping aria.  

As she glided across the stage and looked out into the audience, her eyes searched for the man in the red mask.  She liked to imagine her Angel of Music beaming at her with pride, without him, she would still be that sad little girl crying in the music room.  She sang as loudly and as clearly as she could, hoping that her voice would pierce the heavens clearly enough for her mother and father to hear.  

As she reached her crescendo, she peaked with an E6. Her voice echoed across the entire hall with the sharpness and perfection of a veteran soprano singer. The audience collective dropped their jaws at the spectacle. Marinette ended her aria with a bow, and the theatre erupted with a thunderous round of applause.  

Jason watched from his seat in box five, with a self satisfied smile on his face.  From that day forth, he would see to it that all eyes were on her.  

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 33)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 

Part 34: here

..

Arthur does his best to squirm and press up against his darkness which pins him in place, trying to reclaim some ounce of control.  Something. Anything!

He doesn’t know why he bothers when the result is always the same. Failure. Just like every other time he’s tried to stop the demon from doing something horrific. Like with his Uncle and Darrel, the demon will kill Lewis’s entire family and he'll be forced to watch. Lewis will come home and find them all dead, and it’ll be Arthur’s fault for thinking he could fix things. Arthur claws at the foreign entity, trying to find a crack, a weakness, anything to exploit. There’s nothing. 

He can’t just give up…not yet. 

‘NOT YET.’ He inadvertently shouts the last line.

“Oh, give it a rest already.” The rebuke is causal and relaxed. Arthur can feel the demon’s idle amusement as it watches him flail about.

‘STOP!’ 

 The internal yelling urns him an eye roll.

“What do you think you’re going to accomplish by repeating that? It didn’t work the first dozen or so times. You’re embarrassing yourself,” The demon laughs, leaning back so it is resting against the doors of the open van. Peeking over the horizon is the outline of Pepper Paradiso. With lit windows, the building is silhouetted against the darkened desert. Parked about twenty meters down and partly in a ditch, they are just far enough away that no one will notice the van unless specifically searching for it. The demon’s been staring at the building in guiltless anticipation, legs swinging back and forth, as it waits for sundown. To the left on the motorway, a motorcycle whizzes by, creating a spot of bright light which quickly disappears into the night. Simultaneously, lightning flashes somewhere out of view, briefly illuminating their surroundings.

‘STOP. Just stop!’

“Hey. Don’t make me come back there,” The demon threatens, attention moving to focus on Arthur’s pocket knife. An attempt at flipping it open fails when it jams, gummed shut with blood. Mentally, Arthur winces at the foreign sense of disappointment directed at the object responsible for killing his Uncle. A few seconds are spent struggling with the hinge.  

Finally, the demon gives up on opening it, tossing it aside and admitting, “I guess I am due for an upgrade.” It shuffles around, turning to rifle through the piles of road trip paraphernalia, targeting Lewis’s cooking supplies.

“Now where is it? I know Lew packed it. Well, you know he packed it.”

Arthur falls back for a moment, attempting to regain some strength. All this struggling and yelling is wearing him out, stretching him thin like an elastic band about to snap. Dread and profound defeat vie for dominance. If...no...When he fails to stop this, there is no going back. This is irredeemable.

 Who was he kidding, what he’s done already is irredeemable.

“HA! Got it,” The demon pulls out a box of cooking utensils, dumping them out onto the floor. They clatter around, muffled in the stale night air. Lightning flashes again, reminding Arthur of the storm rolling in from across the desert.

“Now this is a knife.” 

One of Lewis’s slicing knives is held up with no small amount of glee. Arthur watches their green eyes reflect in the polished and sharpened surface. Horror freezes him in place as his nightmare of a life grows steadily worse. 

'This is a nightmare.’ 

“I know. Great, isn't it?!” The demon responds, noting his fixation on the knife, “Once we really get out on the road there’ll be no end to potential misery. Heck, the time travel factor alone is bound to cause a whole load of interesting ripples.”

They twirl the knife between their fingers, gesturing happily at the landscape around them. The unapologetic joy is like a slap to the face, snapping his attention away from the knife.  Arthur resumes his mental clawing, twisting.

 ‘But what’s the point in that! WHAT’S THE POINT!’ 

 “HAHA. Surely you’ve figured it out by now…”  Laughter bubbles their chest. 

 “There is no point!”

 Manic chuckling catches in Arthur’s throat, shaking their entire body. It goes on for several long seconds before the demon takes a deep breath and Arthur smells the humid air, metallic with static. They hold for a count, breathing out in a long satisfied exhale, calming. It is a familiar breathing technique, though it’s not being used for much other than a display of body control. Along the motorway, a truck passes, flashing quickly by.

The demon continues talking, pushing itself upright and away from the van with renewed composure, “Millennia I've waited, wasting away, and now I have this fantastic opportunity to really screw things up. So sit back, relax, enjoy the show...”

Lightning zig-zags its way across the sky, outlining the Pepper diner, which almost seems to stretch into the distance. Arthur is getting really sick of this sensation of mental panic, which is now his go-to reaction to the demon's taunting. 

“...because I'm going to run this for all its worth. The first order of business? Killing our Lewis’s family.”

 All his thoughts are tying themselves in knots, folding in on themselves, becoming unreadable and messy. One part of him is watching and feeling his body move and the other is tangling itself up into a ball.

The doors to the van are closed with the demon’s usual flourish.

 They stroll across the dessert, circling to approach from the side opposite the diner’s car park, away from the wide front windows. In the car park is a foreign truck, with the Pepper family vehicles all parked around the opposite side. So the whole family is home and maybe one late-night customer, because why not add another person to the kill list.

 Silently, the demon ducks around the corner, attention focused on the external power-box, containing the building's circuit breakers. Arthur’s intimately familiar with it, having repaired and replaced several parts of it over the last few years.  With the lightning storm closing in, the first place Lewis’s parents would check in a power outage would be the circuit breakers. Between Arthur and the customer parking, is the employee entrance. The quickest way to the power-box is through the employee entrance. Arthur churns in distress. The demon is setting Lewis's parents up for an ambush.

Any renewed attempts at fighting remain unsuccessful. Casually, with an air of distinct confidence, the cover to the metal box is jimmied off with the knife. The demon flips the main breaker and it makes a loud thunk sound. All the surrounding light vanishes and darkness descends, made intense by the clouded sky.

However, as they turn to duck behind the building and await whoever is unfortunate enough to come through first, lightning bursts across the sky. For a split second, everything is awash with light, brightening, revealing the surrounding area. Arthur gets that phantom sensation of his stomach dropping right out from under him. There,  across from them, standing only a few meters away near the truck, is Vivi.

Unnervingly, Arthur feels is own surprise and shock echoed back at him as both his and the demon’s emotional responses sync up. What is Vivi doing here! She’s not supposed to be here! How! Had she seen them? She must have because she’d been looking right at them.  

A light blinks on, shining in their direction. Vivi is holding up her phone, attempting to see. The pinprick of light washes out her features so she is a blurry grey outline on an otherwise black background. She takes a hesitant step forward and Arthur hears a low rumble. He almost mistakes the sound as thunder due to how it vibrates the air molecules around them. A second later and he realises that the threatening noise is coming from Mystery. The dog is standing a foot ahead of Vivi, backlit by her phone. Glowing red eyes are fixed on Arthur, having no trouble seeing in the dark. It is refreshing to feel the demon’s apprehension roll through their shared mental space. Mystery will protect Vivi. His relief feels like taking a gulp fresh air after breathing in smoke.

 “Arthur?”   

Vivi is walking and the demon manoeuvres back an inch, into the lee of the building. Arthur feels the muscles in his legs tense, preparing to run. Yes. Run. They should definitely run! Runaway from Vivi and Lewis. Runaway and never return.  He hopes Mystery hunts them through the desert and rips them both to pieces. The grip on Lewis’s knife tightens, eyes tracking Vivi then darting to Mystery, calculating the distance between the two.

 They don’t run… 

“Hey!” The demon’s greeting is jarring, and Arthur wants to scream again.

 “Vivi you’re here? I…I…didn't think you’d be back till tomorrow?” Gone is the contempt and snark to be replaced with a nervous stutter. An almost perfect replica of his voice. Did he really sound that pathetic? 

“Of course I’m here,” Vivi pauses, sounding very confused, “…you left so suddenly? We were really worried.”

The demon plasters on an apologetic, slightly guilty, expression, “Yeah about that…I’m sorry. Like really sorry. I…I panicked. Between Lewis and my Uncle, I just really needed to be alone and deal with things privately.”

 A pause for dramatic effect. “You got my note right?”

 “Yeah. We were at the hospital looking for you,” Vivi says, hesitant, unsure like she’s trying to figure something out. Slowly, she inches forward, holding her phone and the light up a little higher. Mystery grows again, and Vivi stops.

 “Are you okay?” She asks, peering at him. “We’ve been trying to call you all day.”

Arthur feels himself wince in a display of guilt. Behind his back, the grip on the knife shifts and his muscles twitch. Impatient irritation resonances about their mind and Arthur does not doubt that, had Mystery not been there, they would have lunged at Vivi. 

“I didn’t know what else to do…”

They back up a bit more, further into the shadow, putting the employee entrance between Vivi and himself.

 “Hey, it's okay. We’ll work it out. We’re here for you, you know. And you can tell us anything. If you need to.” 

No. Arthur’s heart flutters. It’s far too late for that. None of this is okay. A profound sense of longing catches in his chest, drowning out the demon’s irritation.

 “Sure…” The demon mutters, distracted, glancing towards the corner of the building for potential escape routes. The van isn’t that far away, but it is still too long a stretch for the demon to run for with Mystery right there. The best chance it had would be to circle the building, break in and take a hostage. Whether or not that’s the plan, Arthur never finds out. The handle on the door jiggles, catching all of their attentions.

 Lewis steps out.

 He is holding a flashlight at the ready, turned towards the car park, probably looking for Vivi. Lewis doesn’t see Arthur lunge forward, or the knife flick out. There is a flash of silver reflected in the dim light of Vivi’s phone.

Vivi inhales sharply.

 The torch drops from Lewis’s hand, skittering across the concrete, landing so the beam faces towards them, spotlighting and casting two long shadows on the diner wall. Any sense of relief and hope shatter and Arthur finds himself cold again.

‘NO!’

“Heya Lewis. You always did have the worst luck.”

 “Arthur?” Lewis starts talking, then grunts in pain. The demon has the knife partially buried into Lewis’s side and is pushing forward in a deliberately threatening motion. 

 “I wouldn’t move if I were you. If you think this hurts, then you’ll want to avoid giving me a reason to push. One flick of the wrist and I can easily puncture a lung or sever your spinal cord.”

Lewis freezes, turning only his head and neck, attempting to see over his shoulder, “Wh..at?”

 A glare is cast toward Mystery, who is attempting to edge closer, “That includes you mutt, one more step and he’s dead.”

Mystery’s growl deepens and Arthur can feel it reverberating in his chest, through the ground, and in the air.  All around them a new pressure builds that has nothing to do with the storm closing in.  There is another flash of lightning.

 “Lewis!” Vivi tries to run forward but is suddenly blocked by Mystery who leaps between them. Arthur can see her mind whirring, processing the scene, scanning Mystery and looking to him.  Vivi’s eyes narrow, becoming determined. Lit by the stronger flashlight beam, Arthur knows both Vivi and Lewis can see how his unnaturally green eyes spark. 

 “You’re not Arthur,” Vivi accuses, pointing, “Body snatcher.”

 The surprise felt by the demon upon this sudden accusation is mirrored by Arthur. To guess possession right off the bat is a huge leap of logic. At least she doesn’t think Arthur is doing this of his own free will. He never wanted to hurt anyone.  He had just wanted things to be better than they had been.

 Vivi hisses, “Let Arthur go.”

 No longer concerned with keeping up a charade, the demon smirks, “Honestly, I prefer demon. ‘Snatcher’ is such a crude term. I don’t snatch, I appropriate. Congratulations on figuring it out, you're the first human to do so in a while.” 

“Get out of Arthur!”

 A scoff, “Oh, yes, of course, let me get right on that. What do I look like, an idiot?”

 Next to him,  Arthur can see Lewis's profile. His friend's eyes are wide with shock.

 ‘I’m sorry.’  His apology doesn’t make it very far, hitting the mental barrier separating himself from his body.

. 

Note: Yup...it’s a cliffhanger... people like those right?

Part 34: here

[midnigtartist]

6. The super long kiss that wasn’t intended

He knows he should be watching the treeline. Sat beside Nott at the front of the cart, Molly knows that he ought to be scanning the tree line for any potential threats to their merry band as they weave their way through the valley. But he just can’t seem to get himself to focus on the slow passing trees as Nein marches southward. His gaze keeps slipping from the road, as he glanced over his shoulder at the wizard curled up in the back of the cart.

As to be expected, he’s got a book propped up in his lap. One of the spellbook he keeps strapped to his side, Molly notes, as he carefully and meticulously sifts through their recent spoils. The faint hum of arcane energy hangs in the air around him. It pricks at the back of Molly’s neck, making the hair there stand on edge and that’s why he’s been so distracted, and certainly not because Caleb looks so darling and content with his task, a small smile curling at the corner of his lips.

No, Molly thinks wryly to himself, it’s certainly nothing to do with that. Not at all.

He swings his legs over the side of the cart bench, earning and disgruntled yelp from Nott as she’s jostled by the movement. Molly ignores this, instead watching Caleb’s, dare he says, giddy smile as the pearl clasped tight in his hand dulls, and he picks up the bracelet he’s been inspecting. Sliding off the bench, Mollymauk seats himself cross legged at the perimeter of Caleb’s pile of spoils, resting his cheek to his fist.

“Anything interesting?”

Caleb starters, but only a little, his head jolting up and eyes blinking as he takes in the new addition to his ring of shiny things. Molly offers him a curling, close mouth smile in lue of a proper greeting.

Caleb nods, pulling at his beard. “Ja, this-” he gestured vaguely over the lot of stuff, a crooked grin on his face. “This ist gut. There is a lot a usefully things here.”

“Almost finished then?” Molly asks.

“Oh yah, I just have to look over these rings for Jester, you know, and then that will be all of it but ahhhh- you have come over here? Is- is there something you need?” the thrill the magic gives him, seems to bear wearing off and Molly can see Caleb slowly receding back into his shell. And that simply won’t do.

He shrugs “Not particularly. This is fascinating, by the way.”

Caleb lowers his gaze to his spellbook. He twiddles and twists the pearl between his fingers and Molly tracks the movement because that’s fascinating too. Caleb’s long fingers rolling the small bead between them is truly something and he can feel the slight flush crawling up his neck.

“You have seen me identify objects before,,,” Caleb mutters.

“And I find it thrilling every time!” he says. He leans forward so his elbows are pressed into his knees. “I think it’s just wonderful, that. How you can learn all of that stuff just from looking at it for a few minutes. It’s very impressive!”

Caleb shrugs, but Molly spies a phantom of a smile touching the corner of his mouth and he finds himself beaming all the wider for it.

“Well you know, there is a bit more to it then that but it is ahhh,, nerd shit.”

“What I’ve learned from traveling with the lot of you terrible people is that nerd shit tends to be the shit that keeps us alive. It’s very useful shit. Don’t sell your shit short Caleb, it’s very good shit! Quality, even.” he says. Somewhere to the right of him, he can hear Jester cackling. He keeps his eyes and his smile trained on Caleb, who’s actually turned a bit to face him.

“Ha ha.” it’s not a laugh, not really. It more just the noise, but it’s so endearing that Molly’s insides squirm with delight at the sound. “I suppose you are right- about that at least.”

“You’d be surprised by how much I’m right about, actually.” Molly says.

This time Caleb does laugh, even if all it is a huff of air. “Mister Mollymauk.”

“Mister Caleb”

The pearl rolls between his thumb and forefinger. “Would you like learn a magic trick? I, you know, I have tried teaching Jester before, and umm, Beauregard but, they don’t, well, they really do not have the patience for this sort of thing.”

He cocks his head to the side. “And you think I do?”

“I have seen you mend your coat.” Caleb says, actually leveling his clear blue gaze on Molly, effectively pinning him in place. “That embroidery is your handy work, hmm? Something like that takes a lot of time.”

Molly draws back so that he’s sitting up straight. “Well as flattering as it is to know you keep eye on me.” Caleb flushes. “-I don’t think I’m quite clever enough to do what it is you do dear.”

Magic, at least, the magic Caleb does, seems to require a lot of reading, and reading has never really agreed with Mollymauk Tealeaf. It makes his eyes hurt and his whole brain revolt against him, can even give him a terrible headache if he forces himself to work at it for too long.

Caleb’s brows draw together, forming deep creases between his eyes. “It is not that hard.” he says.

Molly flashes him a tight smile. “Yes, but I’m not that smart.”

The wizard shuts his spellbook with a forceful snap that makes Molly’s tail jump and curl up behind him. “Come here, Mollymauk.” Caleb says, commands really, Molly thinks with a shiver. “I will not force you, if you do not wish, but do not withhold just because you think that you might not be clever enough. I will be the judge of that.”

“Well when you put it so nicely,,,” Molly says, praying to the Weaver that he sound relatively unaffected by whatever that was. He slides over so that he’s sitting next to Caleb, instead of across from him. “So, what will I be learning then?”

Caleb hesitates, but only for a moment before he opens his book back up, and shuffles over so that Molly can see the pages, balancing it on his knee.

“Something simple, I think.”

“Oh goody.”

Even the creak of the branches in the wind sounds ominous, which Molly thinks is rather ridiculous and painfully cliche. His blade, glowing with a warm, white light, is wrapped up in the tails of his coat to dull it’s radiance as Molly creeps along low in the brush. The Nein had decided, against Molly’s better judgement, decided to travel a few hours past sunset.

“The next town isn’t that far, guys.” Jester had told them, brandishing the map with the same ferocity with which she handles her sickle. “We’ve been on the road for daaaaaaaaaaays and my feet are getting all tired and gross from walking so much and I just want to sleep in a bed and not in the grass and wake up with like, bugs in my hair and stuff.”

So they’d marched on, and now they’re paying the price because not only is it a good couple of hour past sunset, but they’d been assaulted by some ruffians. Taking advantage of the exhausted state of the party, they’d managed to stop them, rob them, and make off with Jester’s haversack of holding. With so much of their valuable shit in that bag, they’d decided to give chase, and had gotten spread pretty thin in the processes. Which, isn’t such a bad thing, Molly’d been able to pick off a few of the bandits, spread thin themselves, quickly and quietly. But he’s worried about everyone else. If they were unlucky enough to run into more of the bastards then they could handle alone, with Jester possible very, very far away. That could make things a bit more sticky.

Of course, they’re all pretty capable, decently strong. And yet,,, Molly’s worried about some, specifically squishy members of their party.

He’ll- they’ll be fine.

He marches on deeper into the woods.

A bit of time later, the sound of muffled voices hit Molly’s ears. Not long after does he spy the flicker of firelight through the leaves, painting speckled shadows along forest floor.

Molly pauses a moment, tucking himself against a rotting old tree trunk. Peeking over the top of it he can just barely make out a group of darkened figured, hooting and hollering like idiots around a makeshift camp. Why do petty thieves always do that? Make a whole fucking ton of noise that gives away their position. Every single band of thieves he’s ever run into does it. It’s just not smart. Though, if they were smart enough to understand that they probably wouldn’t be out here robbing well seasoned mercenary groups, he thinks. He counts the shadows, or at least he tries to. The back lighting from the fire is fucking up his night vision but he thinks he sees four or five distinct individuals. Too many to take out alone.

Reaching into his pocket with his free hand, he pulls out a little piece of wire. Its difficult, harder with only one hand, but he manages to wrap the bit of copper around his finger and brings it up to his lips. He points out into the woods in the general direction he thinks he saw people running. “Found a group of them. Looks like five maybe? North. Just past that one rock that looks remarkably like a penis. Oh ! and you can reply to this message” he whispers into his fist.

Molly does this eight more time, hoping that if he casts a wide enough net he’ll be able to get in touch with at least some of the Nein. Between not knowing exactly where everyone is and the, frankly concerning, fizzle of the spell against his lips he not sure how many of them got the message. On the fourth time, he hears Jester’s cackling rattling around in his skull. It’s a horrible bizarre feeling that makes his skin tingle,and not even in the fun way.  On the sixth one he hears Beau’s exasperated “real fucking mature, man” and has to stifle a chuckle. On the last one, it’s Caleb’s voice ringing around in his skull.

“I see the rock you are talking about. oh- ja it does look like a dick.” He says. “I am making my way over to you now.”

Molly waits, one eye on the trees around him, one on the group of bandits, watching for any strange movement. Maybe one of them will come over here to take a piss. He could take them out nice and quite, and that would be one less shit head to deal with.

The bushes to his right rustle and Molly tightens his grip on his sword. Caleb comes sprinting out of the underbrush towards him, crouched low to the ground to avoid being spotted. Molly can’t even even get a word of greeting out before Caleb is suddenly upon him, hands reaching to curl around the lapel of his coat.

The wizard is positively beaming at him, his face cracked with a wide smile Molly has only ever seen him give Nott. His eyes are practically glowing, wide and excited and full of pride. He’s on Molly in an instant huddled against the rotten log alongside him and Molly is stunned.

“You cast message!” Caleb says, barely able to keep his voice to a stage whisper for the excitement. His hands come up, cupping Molly’s face between them and immediately the teifling feels himself start to color. Thumbs rub over his cheeks, Caleb squishing his face between his calloused palms “You cast the spell, you did the thing that I showed you! Oh! I am so proud! I am so proud of you! You are brilliant Mollymauk. I could kiss you!”

Well, that makes Molly’s heart do all sorts of ill advised and complicated gymnastics in his chest.

He puts a shaking hand on Caleb’s knee. “Don’t say thing you don’t intent to follow through on, Mister Caleb.”

Brain seeming to have caught up with his mouth, Caleb pales, then flushes a deep scarlet. His hand stay cupped around Molly’s cheeks, though they do lessen they’re squeezing a bit. His gaze falls past Molly’s right shoulder. “I ahh- right. I was- well I got a little excited I suppose,,,”

“Happens to the best of us.” he gives Caleb leg a friendly jiggle “Your secret’s safe with me”

Caleb chuckles.

They don’t move. They’re still dreadfully, painfully close. Annoyingly, not close enough. He watches as Caleb’s gaze flickers back over to his face. Watches the way his sharp, ever curious blue eyes trace the curve of his palm where it’s pressed into Molly cheek, all the way down to the corner of his mouth. He leans in.

The center of gravity suddenly shifts and Mollymauk Tealeaf finds himself crashing against Caleb’s warm mouth. Its quick, but it’s everything.

Caleb presses his lips firmly to Mollymauk’s for a brief moment, pulling him in with the fingers still curved around his jaw. Molly gasps, fingers tightening around the fabric of Caleb’s pant leg. He lets his eyes flutter shut. And then the warmth is gone and Molly opens his eyes to see the wizard staring at him, wide eyed and flushed. Still his hands don’t move from Molly’s face.

“I should not have done that. I-”

Molly brings his other hand up to the back of Caleb’s neck and pulls him forward. Their lips meet again and Molly can taste the crackle of arcane power that lingers on them. It shoots a thrill down his spine. The hand on Caleb’s knee tangles into the coarse fur lining of his coat and Molly sigh, deep and wanting against the other man’s mouth.

To his glorious surprise, Caleb responds in kind. His hands begin to move, one sliding down his face to rest at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, those long, scholarly fingers spanning across his throat, making Molly shiver. The other tangles into the short curls at the back of his neck, drawing Molly even closer.

Molly breaths through the kiss, eyes shut tight as he focuses on the feeling. Of dry and ragged ruined lips against his own. On the slight scratch of stubble against his chin and the rough pads of Caleb’s fingers on his skin. He feels exactly like he looks, coarse and rough around the edges. Nothing like the soft, sweet smelling hired company that Molly’s used to. He finds he likes this much better. The earthy smell that clings to weather battered skin, mixed in with faint hints of whatever spell components line Caleb’s pockets. Licorice and molasses.

Caleb sighs against him, tilting his head for a better angle.  Molly puts all other thoughts out of his head. Forgets about the bandits at his back, and his friends stomping through the underbrush. Even forgets about their stole bag of good. He put his facilities to better use, memorizing the shape and heat of Caleb’s lips against his own

Molly parts his lips and prods at Caleb’s lower lip with the twin prongs of his forked tongue, makes a soft sound of pleasure as Caleb’s fingers tighten in his hair. Caleb jumps under his hands, pulling away. He desperately wants to follow, but Molly let him go, keeping fingers folded against the lapels of his coat, half  to keep himself grounded, half to keep Caleb from bolting before he can find his voice again.

“Don’t you dare apologize for that.” He crooks out after a moment.

Caleb stares at him with blown out blue eyes. He swallows, runs a hand across his jaw. His fingers linger against his lips. “Ja- okay,,, That was ahhh-”

“That was good.” Molly assures him, stroking fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Caleb nods, looking a little unsure. “Gut, ja. You know, uhh maybe we should- should, you know- maybe we could do that again, sometime. But I think we should probably take care of those bandits first.”

A smile splits Molly’s face. “Think we can take them, just the two of us?

“No.” Caleb hands come back around to cup his cheeks, then slip down, coming  to rest against the front of Molly’s coat “We are pretty tough, but you said that there were at least five of them. I do not want us taking any unnecessary risks.” he starts fidgeting with Molly’s coat, adjusting it on his shoulder and smoothing out the silk with his hands. “Clever boy.” Molly says, fondness laced into his words.

Caleb doesn’t meet his gaze, but he does smile.

The sound of twigs snapping catch their attention and moments later Beau comes slinking out of the bushes, a new bruise swelling up over her eye. Caleb hands fall away. Molly keeps fingers pressed lightly against the side of his knee.

“That’s a good look on you.” he says, once Beau is close enough.

“Thanks asshole.” Beau wedges her way between the two of them, elbowing Molly in the stomach as she does.  

He whizzes out a pained laugh.

[darks-ink]

What A Nice Surprise CH.5

Sadly linebreaks are still gone from Tumblr so I went with (---) instead. Check it out via one of the mirror links instead, maybe?

First Chapter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter AO3 - FFnet

Danny capped the Thermos in his hand, releasing a tired sigh. The ghost – some random non-intelligent wolf – hadn’t been strong, but it had proven exceptionally tricky to catch. Kept giving him the slip and was just fast enough for Danny to struggle to close the distance between them.

But, finally, he got it. And it wasn’t even that late. Late in the evening, sure, but if he went home he would still have time to work on his homework!

He grinned at the Thermos in his hand, pleased. Just to be safe, though, he cast out his ghost sense. No, it seemed like this was the only ghost nearby…

An ectoblast whizzed by his ear, and Danny flinched away. Whirled around to face the shooter.

Valerie. Of course it was Valerie. His one opponent that he couldn’t just blast, the one that just wouldn’t believe him. Whose truces just wouldn’t hold up, for no lack of trying on his part.

Valerie, who always insisted on seeing the evil Phantom did.

“Hey Red,” he said, shooting her a short wave. She just growled in response, charging another shot.

“Not very talkative today, are we?” he tried again, keeping his hands lifted and in plain view. Hopefully she would calm down a little like this, if she knew he couldn’t fight back.

And, well. If she shot anyway, he could easily raise a shield like this.

“Shut up,” she snarled, and her gun fired simultaneously. Danny yelped and formed a shield.

It blocked the hit, but the impact still blasted him back. He hit a building, hard.

With a groan he dropped down onto the ground. Half-crumpled, he tried to sit up to keep an eye on Valerie.

“Come on,” he complained, trying to keep the winded tone out of his voice. “What did I do now?”

She re-entered his view. Her board hovered only a foot above the ground, yet she hadn’t retracted it. The gun in her hand whined as it loaded another shot.

“You know what you did.” Her voice was firm. Unwavering. “Why I can’t trust you.”

“I really don’t.” He judged her hold on the gun, her aim. Braced himself, then shot a weak ectoblast right at the weapon.

The blast knocked her aim off, and the blast barely missed him.

Danny pushed himself off of the ground, zipping away. He just needed to throw her off of his tail – or to get out of her sight long enough to change back to human. He would risk walking home instead of flying if that got rid of her.

But her hoverboard has had some upgrades. And with Valerie’s agility, it was almost enough to keep up with him.

Certainly good enough to keep him in her eyesight.

He dove around a corner, then screeched to a halt to avoid collision. In front of him stood two more ghost hunters, guns aimed right at him. The ecto-green elements glowed as the guns charged. Light glinted off of the goggles of the hunters, the red of the woman and the teal of the man.

Then the guns stopped whining, and Danny huffed out a relieved sigh.

“Phantom!” his dad greeted, pulling his hood off and revealing the bright blue eyes underneath. “You’re in a rush! Chasing a ghost?”

“Uh, no.” Before he could explain further, his sensitive ears picked up on the ever-present hum of Valerie’s engines. And yep, there she was, rounding the corner he had just careened past.

“Phantom!” she roared, already lifting her gun up to shoot him. He yelped – in a very grown-up way, of course – and dove behind the massive bulk of his dad.

It was, maybe, an automatic response. These were his parents – it was their duty to keep him safe. Big and apparently powerful ghost hunting weapons definitely counted as a threat they would keep him safe from.

But having Phantom hide behind Fenton’s parents… might not have been the right thing to do.

Oh well, too late to turn back now.

Valerie faltered. The whine of her gun quieted, and its muzzle lowered. No matter the circumstances, Valerie would not – could not – shoot humans.

“Phantom, why are you hiding behind ghost hunters?” she asked, exasperated. Then, after a short pause, she turned to his parents. “Actually, why are you letting him?”

“Because… we don’t want you to shoot him?” Jack said, uncertainly. He was half-turned, looking between Danny and Valerie. “Phantom is not a bad ghost, Red.”

She snorted, disbelieving. “Yeah, right. You just want him for yourself.”

“We’re serious.” His mom shifted into a more defensive pose. It didn’t go unnoticed by Danny – and clearly not by Valerie either. Danny got the distinct feeling that Val was narrowing her eyes at them, but he couldn’t tell with her helmet still on. “We’ve had a truce with Phantom for weeks. He’s been helping us with our research.”

“He’s tricking you somehow.” Valerie shook her head, dismissively. “Or he’s controlling you, or something. There’s no way that he– that any of this is real. I’m not falling for this, Phantom.”

She raised the gun again, tilting her head as if she was considering taking the shot. Then she apparently decided it was impossible with the Fentons between them, as she lowered it again. She pointed between the visor of her helmet – where her eyes would be – and him. “I don’t trust you, Phantom. And I don’t know what you’re doing here, with the Fentons. But I don’t believe any of this.”

Then, with a hum that turned into a roar, she shot off. Her engines left a faint pink trail, but it faded off quickly.

Confident that she really had left, Danny floated back over his parents to face them.

“Thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I, uh. Sorry that she didn’t believe you.”

“She really doesn’t like you, huh?” His mom eyed him, but he couldn’t read her expression with her goggles on. “Yet you don’t seem like the type to do so on purpose.”

He snorted, then shook his head. Dropped his hand again. “I didn’t, I swear! But Cujo just ruined some of her things, and she thinks that he’s my dog so she blames me for it.”

“That’s one hell of a grudge.” But she pulled the goggles up again, and Danny could see that she wasn’t angry – not at him, at least. “Must’ve been important to her.”

“I dunno.” Danny shrugged. Yes, Valerie’s money had been important to her at the time, but now? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t spend a lot of time with her anymore, not after the dating fiasco a while back. “Maybe. Or maybe she’s just full of spite and not ready to give up on her decisions.”

His dad snorted, but wiped the smile of his face immediately when Maddie turned to him. “Yes, well. I thought you two worked together before?”

“We have,” Danny acknowledged with another shrug. “But it was always only short-term. A bigger ghost, a badder ghost. And then once the troubles are over, Val- Red decides I’m not to be trusted.”

His parents shared a glance, clearly having caught the trip. Dammit, Fenton, he chastised himself mentally, couldn’t even keep Valerie’s identity safe? But it was too late now. At least it wasn’t her full name – not even her full first name.

“That’s… unfortunate. In a city like this, we could really use all the help we can get hunting ghosts.” Maddie pocketed her gun in her hip holster. “But if Red continues to threaten our ally, we can’t consider her one either.”

“Maybe we can convince her,” his dad said hopefully. “It’ll take time, sure, but it’ll be worth it. Right, Phantom?”

“I, uh. I mean, yeah.” He shifted, a little awkward. “If you can convince her, that would be great, yeah.”

They nodded. Then his mom smiled at him. “And, Phantom? We’ll take over patrol for you, alright? So she won’t try to ambush you when you’re alone.”

He smiled back, brightly. “That’s… That’s really nice. Thanks. Thank you so much.” This way he could focus on homework without even having to worry about ghosts popping up!

“Hey, it’s no problem kid.” His dad shrugged, also grinning. “It’s our job, you know?”

“Right,” Danny said, hesitant. Of course. His parents’ job as ghost hunters.

Jack grimaced, then suddenly swung an arm around his shoulders. He pulled him against his side, despite the cold Danny knew he gave off. “Which also includes taking care of fellow ghost hunters, you know?” He ruffled Danny’s hair. “Like you.”

Cold crawled up Danny’s neck and cheeks, and he knew he was blushing green. Embarrassed, he looked away – but he couldn’t deny that he felt comforted nonetheless. “I– Thanks.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Jack released Danny again, but remained close. “Go do… whatever you do when you’re not protecting the city. Be a kid, Phantom. You’ve earned it.”

Ha! Be a kid. Doing homework counted as being a kid, he supposed. “Yeah. I… Yeah. Thanks, you two.”

Danny smiled at his parents, then tugged on his invisibility. Certain that no one could see him anymore, he made his way back home.

The warm feeling in his chest remained with him for the rest of the night.

---

Mere days later, it was the weekend again. And, once again, Danny had made plans to visit his parents as Phantom. They had been busy this week – not with regular ghost hunting stuff, but with him, specifically. With finding ways to prove that Phantom wasn’t as bad as people believed.

With proving to Valerie that he wasn’t all that bad.

So. Danny figured that they deserved a reward of sorts. A show of appreciation – even if they couldn’t really know it was supposed to be that, because Phantom had no way of knowing how much they were doing.

He rang the doorbell, then phased inside immediately. He floated in the hallway instead. Floating outside his own house invisible was tiring, so he figured he could shake it up a little instead.

“Phantom?” an uncertain voice asked, and Danny’s eyes snapped to the staircase.

The staircase where Jazz stood. Whoops. He didn’t know she was home.

“Hey,” he said, shooting her a grin that he hoped wasn’t shaky. “D’you mind if I steal your parents?”

She snorted, coming down the staircase to join him. “They could use some time outside the lab. What are you planning on doing with them?”

“There’s this ghost in Casper High, dunno if you’ve heard of him.” The two of them entered the living room, and Jazz sat down on one of the armchairs, then nodded that she was still listening. “The two of us have a deal. I took your parents to meet them a week or two ago, but we had to cut it off early. I figured we could go for a second meeting.”

“Sidney Poindexter, right?” Jazz frowned, thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of him, but I wasn’t sure if he was real. Lots of people say he is – that he hurts random popular people around Casper High, and all that.”

Danny rolled his eyes. He knew they said that – but he also knew it was a lie. Or a twisted truth, at least.

“Sort of,” he told his sister instead. “Sidney hates bullies – was bullied pretty much all his life, and his afterlife isn’t much better. And, well. Most popular kids are bullies, and vice versa.”

“Ah, I see.” She nodded. “He picks on bullies and protects their victims because he used to be a victim himself. He empathizes. Fascinating… Ghosts really do have the same emotional range as humans.”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny shrugged, glancing away. “People just don’t realize it because of biased science by ghost hunters, and because most ghosts that leave the Zone are, well.” He gestured vaguely. “Y’know.”

“Violent and aggressive? Yeah, I know.” She smiled knowingly – teasingly – and Danny felt the green creep back onto his face. Stupid really obvious glowing blush! Stupid sister that did sister things.

In the silence that fell, Danny could clearly hear his parents scrambling around downstairs. They probably had a project they couldn’t just put down. That was fine. He could wait.

“Could I… come along?” Jazz asked, breaking the silence again. Danny’s eyes snapped over to her, surprised by the question.

“I, uh. Why?”

She shrugged, playing with a strand of her hair. Seemed uncertain now, like her question was more of a spontaneous outburst than properly thought out.

“I think it would be interesting to talk with… Sidney, right?” At his confirming nod, she continued. “Plus, he could use the socializing with more people his age. I don’t think a lot of kids at school talk with him.”

“They don’t.” He supposed Jazz was right. And Sidney would absolutely enjoy her company – they were both complete nerds. “And I guess you’re right. Sid would enjoy the company. Just be aware that he slips into old-timey ways sometimes. Mostly speech, but…” Danny shrugged. “Well, you get what I mean, right?”

“I do.” Jazz gestured over to the couch, and with a roll of his eyes, Danny perched on the arm of the couch. Not quite was Jazz had intended, based on her expression, but good enough. “Plus, I think he could use some psychiatric help. Bullying… it can hurt teenagers.”

“I know.” Danny sighed heavily. Despite Dash’s love of Phantom, his bullying towards Fenton hadn’t relented. And with his diminished friendship with Sam and Tucker, he had less hope of them distracting Dash. The only thing he had going for him was his supernatural speed – and his ability to turn invisible if he could get out of Dash’s sight.

But the way she eyed him made him think he said something wrong. Slowly, hesitantly, she asked, “You were bullied?”

Danny shrugged, uncertain. It was true, sure. But it wasn’t something he wanted associated with Phantom, per se.

“I… yeah.” He couldn’t think of a way to deny it. Might as well go with the flow, right? “A lot, actually. But it’s okay. Well, not okay, but… it is what it is. There is no way to change it.” The teachers never listen, anyway. Even if it’s still ongoing, even if it’s happening right in front of them. Bullies were never punished.

It was part of the reason why he was so eager to let Sidney have his way.

The calculating look in Jazz’s eyes didn’t go away. But her eyes did soften, and she smiled kindly. “That explains a lot, actually.”

“About?” He frowned, confused. How did this change anything?

“About you.” She shifted, looking at him earnestly. “I was wondering about that for a while, you see. Because even if you’re not the only good ghost, you certainly are the only one here. And you said you did it to protect your friends, your family, but…” The pluck of hair was twisted, twirled, again. “But there had to be more. More of a reason, more stakes.”

“What, the risk of my loved ones getting injured wasn’t enough?” Danny’s frown deepened as he looked at her.

“No, no.” She raised her hands placatingly. “That’s not what I mean. But not just anyone would do that, Phantom. Not just anybody would stand up to someone more experienced, and likely more powerful, than them just to protect others. But it makes sense now.”

The frown fell away, and Danny shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s easy. You were bullied in life. A lot, right?” The armchair creaked as she shifted again, her hands waving through the air as she spoke enthusiastically. “So now, in death, you have the power to stand up for yourself. But you don’t just use it for yourself. You use it for everyone, everyone who can’t do it themselves. The ghosts, the malevolent ones, are the bullies. And now you are the person you wished had been there for you, before. The person who stops the bullies, who stops people from getting hurt.”

“Oh,” he said simply. She… she had a point. Looking at it this way, he supposed that he had become the kind of person he wished to see sometimes. Like he had grabbed all the traits of the people he loved – of his parents and his friends – and mashed them together into Phantom’s perfect persona.

“You’re… really good at that.” He huffed out a disbelieving laugh. Count on Jazz to psycho-analyze him regardless of form, and nail it as well. “Yeah, you should definitely come along and meet Sidney.”

She grinned in response, opening her mouth to reply. But then thundering footsteps came from the lab, and their parents burst inside.

“Phantom!” his dad cheerily greeted, storming over to swing an arm around him. “Sorry to keep you waiting, kid!”

“It’s alright.” He grinned despite the rib-crushing strength of his dad, barely clinging on to the couch he was sat on. “Jazz kept me company.”

“Really now?” Jack released him, then turned to look at Jazz. “Jazzy-Pants, how nice of you! Finally showing an interest in our profession, huh?”

“The psychology behind ghosts is fairly interesting – and unexplored.” Jazz shrugged casually. “You, and all other ghost hunters, are so focused on the physical aspect that no one even realized that ghosts were just as complex as humans. It’s really fascinating stuff.”

Their mom nodded approvingly. “Yes, you’re completely right. You should come down in the lab to talk about your findings sometimes, honey. If you get it sorted out, you could even publish a paper!”

“Maybe…” Jazz’s expression was surprisingly thoughtful. She really seemed to be considering it, despite her former reluctance to associate with her parents – and ghosts in general. “I would like to focus on individual ghosts first, see if I can help them with their problems.”

“A whole new approach to ghost hunting!” Jack clapped her on the shoulder, and Jazz almost fell out of her chair. “That’s my kid!”

Maddie shook her head fondly, then turned back to Danny. “What earned us the pleasure of your visit today, Phantom? Dropping by for fun, or did you need us for something?”

“I figured we could go for another meeting with Sidney?” He shrugged. “Since we had to leave early last time. And Jazz said she was interested in meeting him as well, so.”

“Well, that sounds like a good plan.” Maddie nodded approvingly. “He was a nice young man, that’s for sure. Will we meet him in the parking lot again?”

“I thought we could meet in the courtyard instead? I’ll fly ahead to find him, and then we can sit down instead of standing around.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “If that’s okay, of course.”

“Sounds good to me. Jack, Jazz?” She turned to face the rest of the family, where Jazz was trying to free herself from her dad’s arm. “That okay with you as well?”

Jack, who didn’t seem to have heard any of the conversation, cheerfully agreed nonetheless. “Yeah, of course!”

“That’s okay with me as well.” Danny finally took mercy on Jazz and pulled their dad’s arm off of her so she could escape. She shot him a grateful look, and he grinned in return.

“Then I’ll get going.” Danny pushed himself off of the couch, floating instead. “If you guys pick a spot, Sidney and I will find you.”

“See you in a bit, Phantom!” his dad boomed, the sound following him even when he phased outside.

---

Finding his parents (and Jazz) proved as easy as he had expected. Besides the fact that the three of them were the only ones out here on a Saturday afternoon, two of them were also dressed in bright hazmat.

Yeah, the day Danny couldn’t find his parents in a crowd was probably the day he would officially declare himself blind.

He took a non-existent seat at the head of the table, floating in the open space in a sitting position. Sidney took the only actual free seat, next to Jazz.

“Didn’t keep you waiting, did we?” he asked, glancing at his family.

“You didn’t, no worries.” His mom flapped a hand, leaving the other resting on the hard wooden table. “We just sat down. Sidney, nice to see you again.”

The ghost grinned back. “You as well, madam. And you too, sir.” Then the boy turned to Jazz, straightening his glasses. “And I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet, miss.”

“I’m Jazz. Jazz Fenton.” She extended her hand, and they shook. “You’re Sidney Poindexter, right?”

“That I am,” he confirmed, straightening his bow tie. “Has Phantom introduced me?”

“He has. But I heard about you at school as well.” She twisted in her seat to face him properly. “According to Phantom, you help protect the kids who can’t protect themselves.”

Sidney blushed, his cheeks growing marginally darker and faintly green. “Ah, yes, well. I try my best.”

“And you do a good job of it, especially considering your past.” Smiling, she pushed herself out of her seat. “Speaking of which… Would you mind sitting down to talk in private?”

“Um.” Sidney glanced between her and Danny. Knowing what Jazz was trying to achieve, Danny nodding reassuringly.

“Sure,” Sidney said, floating up as well. “Shall we take a seat at a nearby table, then, so your parents won’t get worried?”

“Sounds good.” Jazz turned back to the Fentons. “We’ll be just over there, okay?”

“Sure sweetie.” Maddie smiled, and the three of them watched as Sidney and Jazz left. Once they were sure that the two were out of earshot, Maddie sighed, pleased. “We don’t deserve her.”

“She’s a good person,” Danny agreed, also looking at his sister and his friend. “She’ll do a lot of good things with her life, I’m sure.”

“I just… worry, sometimes.” Maddie shifted, and Danny looked back at her, confused. “About both our kids, I mean. I… We know we’re not the most conventional parents. And sometimes, I fear… I’m afraid that we’re hurting them.”

She sighed, deeply and wearily. Jack wrapped an arm around her before she continued. “Especially with how busy we’ve gotten nowadays. And Jazz will be going to college soon, and Danny is growing apart from us as well, spending less and less time with us… And I can’t help but worry. Are we doing the right thing?”

“I think…” Danny swallowed, heavily, then tried again. “I think you’re doing your best, and I think your kids know it. Parenting… Parenting isn’t easy, and neither are teenagers.” He huffed out a laugh. “Being a teen isn’t easy either. But I’m sure your kids know that you’re trying, and… and I wouldn’t worry so much. Everything will be okay.”

Maddie nodded, and her gloved hand wrapped around Danny’s. “It’s a parent’s job to worry, Phantom. Just because it’s not necessary doesn’t mean I can stop.”

But she smiled, kindly. “But… thank you. Hearing that helps a lot.”

“I’m glad to be able to help.” Danny glanced back to where Jazz and Sidney sat, and felt his own lips twist up. “And I think your daughter is doing the same for Sidney.”

---

“What, um.” Sidney paused, uncertain. Sure, Danny seemed to approve of this conversation but Sidney had no clue what the intention had been. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally reveal his friend’s secret identity.

And, above all, how were you supposed to talk to the sister of your best friend if she didn’t know that her brother was the best friend of a ghost or that he was part ghost himself?

“What did I want to talk about?” Jazz smiled kindly. Sidney would be lying if he said it didn’t help soothe him. “Phantom mentioned something interesting about your past earlier today, and I wanted to talk with you about it.”

So… nothing about Danny’s secret identity? Oh, good.

“Oh. What, uh. What was it?” He couldn’t deny being curious. And… perhaps he did miss talking to other teenagers. Danny was nice, but they weren’t very similar. But Danny had often compared Sidney to his sister – said they were both studious nerds, and all that.

Jazz shifted, laying her arms on the table on front of her. Sidney had sat down on the bench in front of her, but was now growing increasingly uncertain at her relentless gaze.

“According to Phantom, you used to be bullied, back when you were alive.” Oh. Oh. Was this what she wanted to talk about? Seeing his probably panicked expression, Jazz continued to speak with a soothing tone. “Bullying… It can have a heavy impact on a teenager. And, I don’t know if you know this, but I have… a bit of an interest in psychology.”

This, Sidney did know. Danny griped about it a lot. That, and he joked about it a lot – about how Jazz would be thrilled if she found out about the Phantom thing, from a psychological standpoint.

“I think few would know that better than I,” he ended up saying. After all, of the many that had suffered from bullying, most didn’t stick around. Not like he had. “That’s why I protect the kids now. To make sure none suffer like I have.”

She seemed saddened by this knowledge, catching on the unsaid words. “That’s really noble of you, Sidney. But…” Jazz shifted, folding her hands together in front of her. “But you’re still around, so your old experiences can still hurt you. Are still hurting you, I think.”

“Maybe so,” he acknowledged with a loose shrug. He supposed that he was catching onto Danny’s manner of speech, but it was to be expected. The kid was pretty much the only person he spoke to, nowadays. “Most ghosts are still hurt by their old lives. It’s why they stick around as ghosts, you know? Happy people don’t become ghosts.”

“Then all of those ghosts deserve help. And I don’t know if I can help all of them, but you, you I can help.” She grabbed his hand, ignoring that the limb must’ve felt uncomfortably cold in her hand. He couldn’t help but lock eyes with her, the bright teal gazing back. “Sidney, your experiences have been hard and unkind. Traumatizing, even. Please, let me help.”

“I…” He didn’t know where he wanted to go with this. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Didn’t know what to think.

What did it say about his life, that he was caught off-guard so badly by such a kind offer.

“I would really appreciate that,” he managed finally. “I… Besides Phantom, no one has ever… just been kind. There was always a plot behind it, or a trick, or… or something else. Never out of the kindness of one’s heart.”

Something about the Fentons, despite how strange they were, worked. Because both their children were so wonderful.

It made Sidney sad, sometimes, that no one knew what Danny really did. What he was really like. That no one appreciated Danny Fenton, because he could do more good as Phantom – and he was okay with that. With sacrificing everyone’s opinions of him, just for that.

“Good,” Jazz said with a firm nod. She released his hand, but patted the top of it comfortingly. “And if you ever want to talk… Well, I’ll be around for the rest of the school year for sure.”

“You don’t… mind? That people would see you talk with a ghost?” ‘With me’ went unsaid.

But Jazz just shrugged. “People know my family as those ghost-nuts anyway. It’s much better now that everyone knows ghosts really exist.” Her lip twisted into a smile. “Besides, people don’t get to pick and choose which ghosts they accept. If they are fine with people talking to Phantom, then they don’t get to throw a fuss about me talking to you.”

“But what if they do?” He didn’t want her to get punished because of him. He was just… He was just Sidney. Nobody special, even after death.

“I don’t care.” She looked firm, set in her ways. “They don’t get to decide what I do with my life, and who I talk with. And if the teachers get worried, I can tell them that my parents and Phantom both approve of you. That should get them off my back.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t… wasn’t used to anyone making such an effort for him. Danny tried, usually, but Danny was busy. Had a lot going on for him. Which was why Sidney tried to help to the best of his abilities, of course, but.

But this was different. Nice different.

“Um. Thank you.” He smiled at her, shaky and uncertain but heartfelt. “Really, thank you.”

Then he glanced over to the other table, seeing three pairs of eyes watching them. “But we should probably rejoin the others.”

“Yeah, probably,” she said with a laugh. “But seriously, Sidney. Talk to me, okay?”

He nodded. Then, the words slipping out without him fully intending to, he said, “You can call me Sid. If you want.”

“Sid?” Her smile widened. “Yeah, of course. Now come on, Sid, before they get worried.”

[cogentranting]

Because I Would Not Stop For Death Pt 1.

Summary: My version of the ending of Supernatural, with a specific emphasis on Dean as the main character. Also on: AO3 Accompanying Meta: X

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Dean had spent his whole life traveling roads like this, stretching straight ahead into nothingness, no lights but the stars above, no sounds but the surging rock music and purr of the engine. And no one around—not people to save or monsters to fight—except, perhaps, for whatever family happened to be riding alongside him, though on this night he was alone. Normally, he found nights like these peaceful. The reverberations of the Impala’s engine felt like extensions of himself, and the open road looked like freedom. But now that feeling of peace and possibility had been replaced by an urgency that Dean could not explain. The plains around him felt raw and exposed, and some sober presentiment made him feel like playing music would shatter the tentative waiting. His foot pressed a little more insistently against the accelerator. He needed to get home.

The sound of his phone going off, startled Dean and he scrambled to answer it before a second ring could further disrupt the reverie of the night.

“Did you get it?” Sam’s haggard voice came over the line. It had been months since Chuck had turned on them and raised the monsters from their past. They’d been run ragged, chasing down rogue monsters and dodging old enemies, all the while looking for something that would help them when the other shoe inevitably dropped, and Chuck made his next move. It had taken its toll on Sam, and Dean had fought hard to find an excuse for Sam to sit this particular mission out, hoping that maybe Sam would rest. If any rest had happened, it had not been enough.

“The lead was a bust,” Dean replied. Rumors and scraps of lore had pointed to a hand of God surfacing in a small town a few hours away, and Dean had chased after it in the desperate hope that it might be something they could use against Chuck. All he had gotten for his trouble was a cursed object and some bizarre locals. “What about things there? How’s Jack?”

The one bright spot, the little piece of hope that Dean was clinging to but couldn’t really believe: Jack had been resurrected months ago, and was now fully restored to them. Soul and all. “Good,” Sam replied. “He’s worried about taking on Chuck, obviously and he’s stressed. But he’s himself again. And he’s getting stronger.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief in spite of himself. He let the hope grow a little bigger, even as the morass of his thoughts dragged at him. He could almost feel the gun in his hand, see the look on Jack’s face as Dean had pointed it at him, with every intention of—Dean cut his thought off fighting the shame and guilt aside for the moment. Of course he and Jack had talked when he came back.  There had been confessions, lots of guilt, and Jack had forgiven him, and he’d forgiven Jack for… that other thing. Dean couldn’t quite bear to name it, even in his own thoughts. Still the thought of what he’d tried to do to Jack would be added to the long list of things that Dean could never wholly forgive himself for.

He repositioned the phone on his ear. “Well good. Bout time we had a win.” He forced false optimism into his voice. “Team Free Will 2.0. Ready to save the world one last time.” He hoped that maybe a little of his manufactured hope would rub off on Sam. He never heard Sam’s reply.

The Impala’s headlights caught the shadow of something in the road and Dean slammed on the brakes. The phone fell to the floor and slid under the seat. The speeding car screeched to a halt just a few feet from the massive barrier. For a few seconds Dean leaned over the steering wheel and stared at the obstacle which blocked the road completely. Well… to say that it blocked the road wasn’t accurate. It was the road. Earth and asphalt had been ripped up and formed into a wall, five feet high, several feet thick. Something about the way it was piled gave the distinct impression of having exploded upward of its own accord.

Dean shook his head. “Uh uh. Nope.” Sam’s voice could be heard faintly calling his name from the phone beneath the seat. Dean ignored it and threw the car into reverse.

An invisible force slammed into the side of the Impala. The quiet night was torn open by the protesting shriek and thunder of metal as the car briefly lifted into the air and then hit the ground, rolling once… twice… three times before coming to a rest startlingly upright.

Stars and shadows crowded Dean’s vision. There was an ache in his body that seemed to have no origin and no end. Practically on instinct, he turned the ignition key. The engine sputtered and died. Dean felt almost calm; the night’s urgency had melted away with the arrival of the threat his instincts had awaited. Here was the fight his blood so often called for. His hand found the demon knife without issue in the pitch darkness of the car, as if it were drawn by fate.

Slowly he stepped from the car, letting the door swing shut behind him as he surveyed the plain for his assailant. This was Dean Winchester to the core—bruised and bloodied, nothing but the Impala at his back, the potential of all the horrors of the night before him, only a knife in his hands, and still he wore the steadfast conviction that this fight was not his last. This was Dean, and the three approaching figures knew it well.

Not much scared Dean. He’d been hunting since well before he’d passed through puberty. Since then, he’d fought gods and angels and primordial beings, killed many of them, and mouthed off to all. But if any of those things he’d faced in all his years of hunting could make his blood run cold, it was these three walking toward him.

Abaddon. Alistair. Azazel.

“Hey fellas,” Dean called as they drew closer. “You’re looking better than the last time I saw you—you get some work done?”

Abaddon gave a terse laugh. “I wish I could say the same about you Dean. You look tired. You really should take better care of yourself. Such a waste of that pretty face. And since we’re on the subject,” she reached up and pulled the collar of her shirt down just far enough to reveal the tops of a series of thick jagged scars. Scars from where Dean had hacked at her chest with the First Blade. “You did a little work on me yourself.”

Demons didn’t scar, and every time Dean had been resurrected his old wounds and scars had been erased. This must have been a special gift from Chuck.

“Did a little work on all of us,” Alistair added, gesturing to the scars crisscrossing his face from the day Dean had tortured him. “I have to say, cosmetic surgery: not your calling.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dean lunged forward with the demon knife, slashing Alistair’s face and sinking the blade into Abaddon’s chest in one motion, all the while internally raging at the futility of the action. A butter knife would do him just as much good against things like these. Abaddon roared in fury, while Alistair’s throat contorted with a deranged chuckle.

Azazel flicked his wrist indolently. Dean slammed backwards into the Impala. “Chill out, Kid.”

The force pressed him persistently back against the twisted metal, just hard enough to hurt. It always felt like someone was sitting on his chest—a little difficult to breathe, speaking a little too strenuous to be worth it.

“Hey Sweetheart, hold this for me,” Azazel called to Abaddon. “If you can manage. I heard that last time you had some trouble with that.” Abaddon scowled and assumed control of holding Dean in place.

Azazel sidled forward and leaned against the car next to Dean, his face a mere breath away. The smug half smile ignited something in Dean, the embers of an old rage he’d finally buried after decades of effort, now recklessly thrown into the open to be fanned into flame once more. “Ah Dean. It’s been too long. Let’s catch up.”

“Sure,” Dean snarled around the choking sensation that comes when the deepest wounds reopen. “Remember that time I shot you in the face?”

The demon gave a genuine grin even as unmistakable savagery flashed in his yellow eyes. “Never thought you had it in you kid. I mean, you told me you would do it. Back in the 70’s. Just before I killed Grandpa. But still, when you pulled that trigger, I was stunned.”

“He doesn’t have the eye for talent that I do.” Alistair winked. He had retrieved the demon knife from where it had fallen on the grass and was idly turning it over and over.

Azazel nodded thoughtfully. “It’s true. I dropped the ball. Put all my money on Sammy. From what I hear, apart from a few benders, he never really lived up to all the hype. But the things I’ve heard about you. Daddy’s pathetically loyal little attack dog became Alistair’s star pupil. Started the Apocalypse. Knocked the angels off their perch. Bore the Mark of Cain. And became a knight of Hell. Oh I wish I could’ve seen Dean Winchester tearing humans apart with that mark.” He pried Dean’s arm away from his side and examined the forearm. “Shame you got rid of it. Real waste.”

Alistair stalked closer. The eerie white eyes flicked from side to side, tracking some phantom thought. “You should really be thanking me, Dean.” The knife turned again and again in his hands. “I remade you. The old you never would have made it this far. Anything remarkable about you I carved into you. In a way, you owe me.” He leaned in, so close Dean could smell the decay lingering on him, and with a startling intensity he searched Dean’s gaze for something. His pallid lips curled into a smile. “You can pay some of that back now.”

This time Dean didn’t see the knife turn. It was in and out three times and the blood was beginning to warm the shirt over his lower abdomen before the pain registered. A quiet gasp was all Dean could manage.

Azazel carried on as if the violence had escaped his notice. “But of course there’s so much that you’ve done that I just can’t allow you to get away with. I had all these glorious plans about how I was going to get Hell on Earth ready and then bring back Lucifer. Then when, he finally does come back, you go and get an archangel supercharge and kill him. And even worse, there’s the horribly decent upbringing you’re giving Lucifer’s kid.”

The demon’s voice faded out slightly and as Dean’s head lolled backwards the stars swirled above him. He recognized the thing swelling up within him. That strange force that was creeping into the space left behind by his blood as it seeped into the night air. It was death. He should know. He’d died enough times. The thought of dying here made him more angry than scared. It wasn’t fair that he should have beaten these scars of the past so long ago, and that they should be thrown back at him now. But even that anger was fading quickly. The stars made his anger feel small.

           Vaguely, he wondered where he would go this time. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go to Heaven. His mom and dad and Bobby were there, but there were a lot of bad memories up there—vengeful angels and the like. Besides, with God himself mad at him, it seemed pretty pointless to hope for a shot at Heaven. Alistair here was certainly a reminder of how much he wanted to avoid going back to Hell. The Empty didn’t sound much better. Purgatory wouldn’t be so bad. Hunting forever, never losing the thrill of the fight, maybe he’d even see Benny again. Not so bad at all.

           Azazel wrenched his head back down, forcing him to look into yellow eyes. Hatred that strong and old is dense and it held Dean in this life a little longer. He gritted his teeth. The fight wasn’t gone from him yet. Silently, without even really forming the words in his head, Dean half-formed a prayer to Jack.

           “Here’s the thing, Kid,” Azazel began, with the tone of a business negotiator. “I’d like to take my time with this. Relish the moment, make it slow. But, we’re not here just for us. I’m sure you guessed, the Big Man brought us back for a reason. He asked us to deliver a gift for you.”

           He couldn’t turn his head to see where the demons produced it from, but when Azazel held up the crystal, glowing with searing white light, Dean recognized it instantly. A bomb forged from the energy of hundreds of thousands of souls, specifically for the purpose of killing the Darkness.

           Abaddon laughed. “Looks like he remembers it.”

           “Oh good. So I won’t have to explain what this does.” Azazel fondled the bomb carefully. “A weapon capable of killing God’s sister… makes you wonder what it’ll do to a human.”

           There was no time for any sort of response. A few words of incantation and the light blazed out of the crystal into Dean’s chest. His mouth gaped, his fingernails dug at the Impala’s paint, all he saw was light, and all he could feel was heat. Then the night went cold and silent once more and he gasped, small shallow breaths, because anything deeper pulled at the ragged wound in his stomach. In the aftermath of the brilliant light, the night was blacker and all Dean could see was Azazel’s mocking yellow eyes.

           “Good catching up, Kid.”

           The weight lifted from his chest and Dean dropped to the ground, alone again, the twisted mass of the Impala the only sight for miles. He tried to get his legs under him but they didn’t respond. A trembling hand went to the knife wound and came away slick with blood. Cold pulled at his limbs and numbed the edges of his mind, all the while an unutterable heat was building in his chest. Building and building, with a heat that threatened to eclipse his very being, pulling the bits of himself away from each other, even as that cold, seeping nothing dragged him down and down. He couldn’t hold his hand against the flow of blood anymore and it dropped to his side. Low pulses of energy shone around him, real enough to illuminate the night. He closed his eyes and felt Baby’s cold metal against his skin.

           The rustle of wings forced his eyes open. There was Jack standing on the road. But it was fear, not hope that spurred Dean. He could feel it, like a racing heartbeat, the urgent pulse of the bomb within him. The god-killing bomb. Jack took a step off the road, toward him. Dean found one last surge of adrenaline, or will power, or fatherly instinct and with all his strength shouted, “Jack, no! Get back!”

He saw it in Jack’s face as the boy sensed the energy radiating off him and realized the danger. And in relief he listened to the rustle of wings as Jack retreated. There was a shattering, blinding, rush of light and heat and energy, and the Kansas plain looked like daylight, then deadly whiteness, then madness itself. Then it was night once more and even the stars seemed dark. And there was nothing.

Jack watched the flash from a few miles away. He felt nothing. But a very different nothing than what he had experienced when he had no soul. That was a calm, cold nothing. This was a tense, fragile nothing, like a held breath. As darkness settled again he took flight and reappeared where he’d left Dean.

He thought he’d missed his mark. This was not the place he’d left. There was no swaying prairie grass. No worn asphalt. No Impala. No Dean. There was only a ringing in the air, and dirt that, on closer inspection, was not just dark but scorched black. Jack stood and felt the aura of destruction that hung about this place, absorbing to the core of his being the sense of all the things that on this night had been reduced to a shattered, stark nothing.

   The phone dragged down Sam’s hand as he paced the library, willing it to ring. Dark shadows under his eyes gave his a face a haggard look, as if it had been weeks of sleeplessness, not a single night. Twelve hours had passed since Dean’s phone cut out. Twelve hours since any news.

While Sam paced, Cas sat at one of the tables, dreadfully still, his faze fixed staidly, on an indeterminable point on the wall. Sam whirled toward him, his fear suddenly made manifest as anger. “I’m going out to look for them.”

Cas held out an arm perfunctorily, playing his role in a scene that had already been rehearsed several times over the interminable hours. “You already went out looking, for hours, and you didn’t find any trace of them.”

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“You don’t even know which roads to search. Jack has wings. If anyone can find Dean, it’s him.”

A hundred memories of Dean in danger, hurt, dying, competed for attention in Sam’s mind. He opened his mouth to continue the fight or give in, he hadn’t quite decided which. Before he could muster the energy to see where his words led him, he was interrupted by the sound of wings.

Jack landed heavily, staggering slightly. The boy looked wearier than a nearly omnipotent being had any right to. Both men took a staggering half step toward him, unsure whether to rush to his aid or give him space. Even as relief at Jack’s safety calmed a flurry of fears in Sam’s mind, he was searching the empty space behind Jack, as if believing that Dean would suddenly materialize.

Jack’s shattered stare held their questions at bay. The bunker itself held a trembling breath. Ghosts of memories peered in through the doorways, waiting for an answer to an unasked question.

When he could stand it no longer, Sam broke the silence, his voice uncharacteristically small. “Did you find him.”

“There were demons… and I thought I got there in time… Dean told me to run and I- I… there was an explosion like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Cas chose his words like picking through shards of broken glass. “Jack, what kind of explosion?”

Asking that question was easier. Focus on the trees, don’t look at the forest. Not yet.

Jack seemed lost for a moment. “There was this energy… it felt like” he searched his memory trying to pinpoint the memory that itched in the back of his mind. “Like the energy from my soul I used to kill Michael.”

Cas’s gaze darkened at some thought that accosted him, but Sam had reached his breaking point. “But Dean. Jack, where’s Dean?”

Jack looked up, eyes wide, as if asking for Sam’s forgiveness. “He’s gone.”

“Then bring him back. Like you brought Cas back.”

“I tried. But it was like with Mary-” Jack choked on the words and the memory and Sam flinched a little. Jack cleared his throat and started again. “It was like with Mary. There was nothing left. Nothing I could do. After the explosion… even the Impala was just gone.”

Sam sagged against the wall. Empty space opened below him and he could feel it sucking him down, down, further down into the great vacuum of everyone he’d lost. There’d always been so much loss in his life. From his mother, to the friends left behind by a life on the road, to Jess, his father, Bobby… But no loss ever ached quite like the prospect of life without Dean. It was like asking him to live without the ground beneath his feet.

The look of a caged animal came into Sam’s eyes. “I need to see him. Take me to Heaven.” He’d lived without Dean before. And every time something took Dean away, it left him changed. Sometimes incomplete, or twisted, or broken, sometimes not. But always changed. And maybe he could do it this time, now that he had Cas and Jack and Eileen, and if Dean were in Heaven with Mom and Dad and Bobby… If he could just talk to Dean and know. Then maybe he could know what to do.

But Jack shook his head, a little fearfully, a little desperately, like a child overwhelmed by what they didn’t understand. “He’s not there.”

“Then take me to Hell!” Sam roared, with more anger than he’d intended.

Jack didn’t flinch away. He understood the desperation gripping Sam. He’d felt it himself hours earlier when he found that he couldn’t bring Dean back, and had formed the exact same plan that now burned wildly through Sam, and likely Cas as well. In vain. “He’s not there either.” His voice had become softer, like a parent soothing a child.

Panic spun Sam’s heart. “What do you mean? Where is he?”

Jack shook his head. “I searched everywhere. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory. I searched and I tried to get answers from every angel and demon and monster that I met but he’s not there. I don’t… I don’t know where Dean’s soul is. Maybe the Empty but I can’t get there. Not on my own.”

“No. I don’t think he’s in the Empty.” Cas’s voice was low and filled with trepidation. Neither Jack nor Sam dared prompt him to continue. He did anyway. “The way Jack described the energy, as being like the magic from his soul… Sam, I think the soul bomb killed Dean.”

“The one Rowena and Billie helped us make?”

Cas nodded. “Or one like it. The thing is, that bomb was designed to kill the Darkness. To kill something on the level of God himself. If that’s what killed Dean…” His voice trailed off.

For a moment the trio felt the cold expanse of the empty bunker press down on them with a menacing, aching, loneliness. Finally Cas, collected himself and pronounced his judgment.

“I don’t think Dean’s soul is in Heaven or Hell, because I think it was completely destroyed.”

______________________________________________________________

Part 2

[zukadiary]

Hustle Mates ~ Cosmos Troupe 2018

I know I'm here so often it's hardly special anymore… but this trip had the distinction of being my first VACATION in Japan in 5 years. I'd forgotten what mornings look like in this country (and as I'm now back at work for the remaining few days, I already miss them).

It also had the distinction of being Kazuki Sora's first lead. Of my standout favorites in my life thus far as a Takarazuka fan, Sora is the only one who, by some witch magic, grabbed me when she was a tiny child—before I ever set foot in a theater here, before she even got a shinko lead. After growing quite used to following her around the edges of the stage with my opera glasses and mentally cursing camera operators for not panning two inches to the left to get more than a sliver of her arm in some great dance scene, this year brought first an absolute dream role in Anita, followed by the center spotlight that I honestly wasn't convinced she'd ever get. It's been vindicating seeing her immense talents displayed so prominently, and deeply moving in ways utterly different from any of the other cyclones of emotion Takarazuka fandom has thrown upon me. A very non-Soragumi friend had a chance to see the show, and I felt nervous and wary like I was taking an acquaintance to my own child's recital (someone please tell me when I got old enough to experience THAT feeling). And much like a mom, I plan to throw out any attempt at objectivity and rave about my girl until you don't want to listen anymore.

Hustle Mates was primarily a collection of songs and dances from Soragumi history, with a few non-Takarazuka songs, MC sections, and mini skits thrown in. It's a tiny cast of 16, so if you like anyone in it you have a good chance of seeing her featured. Long-time Soragumi fans will likely find it very fun and nostalgic regardless. Sora leading a show about the history of Soragumi which contains a great number of songs with the word sora in them made it kind of sound like she was singing about herself for two hours, which greatly amused me (and apparently tickled Ishida-sensei too).

Act 1 opens with two original songs—the very upbeat Hustle Mates theme, and then more of a ballad (also with ample use of the word SORA)—followed by a selection of songs from some of the most well-known Soragumi musicals: Copacabana, Phantom, Top Hat, Singin' in the Rain, and an Elisabeth medley, which despite the general overuse of Elisabeth songs was still my favorite. Watashi Dake Ni was a group musumeyaku number, Mikaze Maira got to unleash her very impressive pipes on that last note. Saigo no Dance also started as a group otokoyaku number. Moeko entered partway through for a solo line, and I know she has the shinko Tod experience under her, but since I've never seen that, it was maybe the most surprising and powerful few seconds of Moeko I've ever witnessed. Then Sora came in to finish the song, and in some alternate universe where she's in a different class and tall enough to be a top star I'd sell both of my kidneys to see her Elisabeth every single day of the run. Sora solo Kitsch came next and was likewise flawless, so I guess I'll be satisfied with keeping my kidneys if they finally air that dang shinko in the next couple of months while Tsukigumi is playing.

Then we have a skit… I'm a bit fuzzy on exactly what went on in it, but I suspect I might be looking for sense where there was none. Setohana Mari enters dressed like a dominatrix, loudly cracking whip and all, with two other musumeyaku guards of Partial Time Prison. They do a roll call of past Soragumi characters who come out one by one and make meta jokes about themselves (discussing their offenses?) while the three guards smack them around. Sora is brought out last, as Lucheni, and gives a long speech, the punchline of which is he's on the path to reform thanks to his new life selling green juice mix in what is probably a pyramid scheme. Each performance she ad-libbed Louis and Marie Antoinette off the stage.

Moeko and Mineri who were playing Jose and Carmen in prison stick around to sing Temptation (GREAT song, I wanted a little more from these two) while the underclassmen get ready to sing Amapola a cappella conducted by Homare Seri. This was QUITE impressive, and I love it when they use Bow to give underclassmen little challenges like this. Act 1 ends with a medley of the Soragumi revue songs that got the most votes in the internet poll they ran a few months ago. They aren't listed individually in the program and I'm probably missing something, but off the top of my head I remember Millennium Challenger, Dancing For You, Funky Sunshine, Nice Guy, Phoenix Takarazuka, and Hot Eyes. Sora singing Funky Sunshine (SO—RA— POWER) was HIGHLY satisfying. They finish on Asu e no Energy, which still made me cry even though I JUST saw Citrus Breeze… but put my kid in the center of a song that always makes me cry anyway and I guess that's what you get.

Act 2 was less nostalgic and more interesting to me, probably because Sora's dance scenes multiplied significantly. They opened with a nihonmono medley, beginning with a Soran dance which I LOVED (the one from Viva Festa always gets me hyped too). Sora entered Takarazuka with a background in hip hop dance which I think always gives her movements a particular dynamic energy and a sharpness that sets her apart even from the other great Takarazuka dancers, but it stood out to me even more than usual in the Soran scene, probably in contrast to the traditional Japanese garb. I REALLY LOVED IT (even if I can imagine nichibu purists cringing). During my first two viewings of the show I was mostly overwhelmed and ecstatic that Sora had gotten a lead at all, but the last one, particularly in the Soran scene for whatever reason, it hit me HARD how much she's grown and how commanding and enthralling she is on stage.

After we spend a bit more time reliving Soragumi's very brief nihonmono history through song, there's a "rain corner" featuring a folk song that I rather like and a skit that made me feel COMPLEX THINGS. Mappu (Matsukaze Akira) plays some kind of rain god/wizard/???, in a whimsically decorated raincoat with two cute little ghosts hanging off her umbrella. Sora enters playing a guy out for a walk in the park in the rain where he meets a girl (Mineri) who lets him share her umbrella, and when the rain stops she asks him what he's doing in the park in the rain without one. BEAR WITH ME HERE: he explains he felt like coming to visit the spot where his dog Liza died, on a rainy day just like this one, after running away from their car (side note, I hope they named the dog Liza because Mineri's name is a play on Minelli?? Is it even?? There's a good ochakai question 6 days too late). He reminisces about all the tricks Liza could do, and Mineri imitates them. He shows her a picture of Liza, and surprisingly they're wearing the same dress?! It becomes evident that Mineri is actually the human form spirit of Sora's late pet, granted a few precious moments on earth by Rain Wizard Mappu to talk to her former owner, thank him, and say goodbye… she disappears with Mappu before Sora fully figures it out. HERE'S THE THING: As WTF?? as this entire concept is, Sora's acting was so damn heartbreaking I TEARED UP on the THIRD VIEWING even though I TOTALLY KNEW WHAT TO EXPECT?? I'm GENUINELY ANGRY that she took THIS SKIT and managed to MAKE ME CRY, and now I'm also praying to all the gods that this isn't her last lead, because I NEED to see her in a proper play with a proper partner. Where do I sacrifice the goats?

Next the whole team sings a song from Never Say Goodbye, leading up to Sora coming out for a solo barefoot dance, custom engineered to wound me as gravely as possible. Setohana Mari follows this up with an attempt at If I Were a Bell from Guys & Dolls, with brilliant all-in drunk acting but barely recognizable English (A for effort given the speed of the song though).

AND THEN

Okay. There's a rare special thing that I've now had the… fortune? I guess? of experiencing twice, that I hope you all get to experience someday, not because it's good or fun but just because it's An Experience. Sometimes there are secret little treats hidden in Takarazuka shows just for the foreigners. They're secret because I am pretty sure the directors have no idea what treats they are. And sometimes, through a combination of luck and the kindest friends, you make it to your first viewing with no spoilers, and a song starts playing that you recognize within half a note, and you begin having an experience so separate from every other person in the theater you feel as though you might as well be floating above the audience with all their disapproving gazes drilling into you, wondering what the heck you're doing up there when clearly the place for you is down here. The first time was when I waltzed unassuming into HOT EYES!! in an era when my feelings re: Soragumi were "I guess I have to watch them if I want to see Sora," and in my heart-pounding state of shock brought about by the first however many scenes Eye of the Tiger began to play, and out came involuntarily a VERY noticeable raspberry spit of quickly stifled laughter (before Makaze's everything shut me right the heck up).

The second was when amidst the polite applause following Secchan's Ding Dong Ding, the curtain rose on the remainder of the cast beginning a fiercely literal staging of the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody in English. There are so many things to unpack:

Mikaze Maira, playing a literal mother, opens the number by emotionally reading a literal letter from her literal son who has literally gone off to war

The others, with Sora in the center, are playing soldiers armed with sizable rifles, portraying the horrors of war via aggressive interpretive dance

Sora's English, while certainly not flawless, was SO PASSABLE, especially when compared to a) history in general and b) specifically Can't Take My Eyes Off of You from 2 years ago, I was FULLY SHOOK

Her dancing and acting in this number were SO FRIGGIN GOOD I could DIE

The performance overall was SO PASSIONATELY ACTED and thus SO DISTRESSING that people in the audience were CRYING from BEING MOVED to the point where later in the run they BEGAN SNIFFLING BEFORE THE NUMBER EVEN STARTED

It forced me for the first time in my life to sit down and hella contemplate the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody, the conclusion of which was a) yeah that sure was a 500% valid interpretation of the lyrics and b) there is absolutely no way I could ever begin to explain to a Japanese person why in my culture it's a FUNNY SONG

I was EXTRA TICKLED that Kotti, who can't speak above a whisper off stage, was the one who got to run up onto a box and scream SO YOU THINK YOU CAN STONE ME AND SPIT IN MY EYE

Every viewing my body shook so hard from the effort it took to keep myself from making any sort of noise I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in my row could feel the tremors and I am honestly still tired just thinking about it

If this is cut I’m making a GoFundMe for the rights. Everyone start saving now please.

As a palate cleanser, Mineri sings a pop ballad in a gorgeous gown before the proper kuroenbi to Ai, which is a song that has a lot of nostalgic value for me personally, making it a very emotional backdrop to Sora leading an otokoyaku dance with the top star sparkles on her tailcoat and hitting that final pose with a heart-shattering bang. They reprise the two original theme songs for the parade, and that's Hustle Mates.

Additional notes from my particular viewings: I had a lucky aisle seat where Hanaki Maia, who I'm pretty obsessed with, serenaded me, and Mappu gave me a great smile and a little hand squeeze in lieu of a high five. I am completely charmed by Kotti, she's like a Great Dane that grew up and still thinks it's a lap dog—striking otokoyaku on the outside and a sweet shy earnest inside that hasn't quite caught up yet. Senshuuraku should be the day that shows up on Sky Stage eventually, but in the Partial Time Prison scene Homare Seri (playing Rhett Butler) started a really awkward slow clap with the audience in an attempt to ad lib, then had no idea where she wanted to go with it so she just gave SoraLucheni a big hug, and Moeko got flustered, decided that was enough, and cut off everyone’s laughter and applause by stepping in front of the action and saying her next line as loudly as possible.

My raku seat was close range, and after watching Sora’s perfectly calculated facial expressions, and the tiny backlit beads of sweat flying off her brow as she danced her heart out in HER SHOW, I'd sit in lava for her I love her so deeply.

[stompsite]

So I Played FFXV

In most of my articles, I start out by presenting a problem. Maybe a lot of gamers hate zombies, and I want to write about a zombie game I love, so I present the problem of the zombie game, explaining in detail why I’m sympathetic to the concerns of people who hate zombie games, before explaining how the zombie game I love gets around that problem.

I do this because we’re rarely wrong about our feelings, but we’re often wrong about why. If I wrote “here’s a good zombie game,” no one would want to read that if they don’t like zombie games. By writing “this is why zombie games bore you and here’s how zombie games can excite you,” I appeal to a broader audience.

This brings me to Final Fantasy XV, a game one of my backers asked me to cover.

Good games writing often happens when an expert explains the ins and outs of a genre they know well to an audience they assume are quite intelligent but aren’t as familiar with the subject as they are. When I wrote about walking sims last year, I sat down and I went “okay, a lot of you are bored with walking sims. Why is that?” My editor’s boss didn’t seem to like it that much, insisting that the walking sim didn’t need any defending (even though The Chinese Room, developers of walking sims, had just shut down, and Tacoma, a walking sim with magazine covers, had sold a mere 10,000 copies). But I think people have strong feelings about things and they want to understand those feelings, so having an expert help them out without talking down to them is wonderful.

A little bit of history.

I may be an expert on video games, but I am most assuredly not an expert on JRPGs.

Unlike most people, I didn’t grow up with video game consoles. I saw a meme posted the other day saying “you can’t argue with me about games unless your first console was a Genesis or NES.” Mine was an Xbox 360, but I’ve been playing computer games for a great deal longer. Since Japan didn’t make many computer games (oh, sure, Final Fantasy VII was developed for Windows 95, but I don’t recall seeing it amidst the Diablo 2, Planescape Torment, and Half-Life boxes at CompUSA back in the day), JRPGs were never really a part of my gaming diet.

It’s not to say that JRPGs weren’t appealing. When my wisdom teeth were pulled, my mom brought our little 13” portable TV into my room and let me watch movies. I stumbled upon UHF channel 53, which broadcast a pirated version of TechTV, which was, at the time, airing Anime Unleashed, a block of awesome anime shows like Last Exile and Crest of the Stars. Most anime I’d seen up to that point was the stuff we got on kid’s shows, like Yu-Gi-Oh! and Pokemon. Digimon aside, most of it was garbage. Watching Boogiepop Phantom or Serial Experiments Lain during late nights on this stupid little black and white TV was something else entirely.

Since then, I’ve loved good anime aesthetics, so you’d think that JRPGs would be my jam. I thought so too, which is why I started talking to friends about them, but every time I did, my friends would talk about what confusing bullshit they were--especially, at the time, Final Fantasy X. “...but Final Fantasy VIII is better!” they’d tell me, and of course I’d ask them about that, and they’d tell me even more confusing bullshit. Plus, the whole turn-based gameplay thing was a huge turnoff. I got into other games, like Age of Empires and Unreal Tournament. They were more interesting. Games like Max Payne had way better stories than Final Fantasy VIII, that’s for sure.

Once, someone got me into Earthbound on an emulator, and I fell in love with it, until someone kidnapped zippy--I think she has a ‘real’ canon name but I don’t know what it is and I don’t want to know--and I couldn’t beat any of the fights because I didn’t understand the concept of grinding. Over the years, I tried other JRPGs, because the premise and the art sounded cool, but I bounced off the gameplay or the presentation time and time again. The closest I got to loving a JRPG was Dragon’s Dogma, and that was more of an open world sandbox game than any kind of RPG.

This brings me to another point.

JRPGs aren’t RPGs.

People usually protest when I make this point. Either I’m wrong or it doesn’t matter, they say, but I think it does matter because I’m a game designer, and understanding the specifics of genre is a really useful skill for a game designer to have. When I look at the JRPG, I see a lot of very specific elements that make them stand apart. If I say “I want to make an RPG,” chances are, I will not make something like a JRPG. If I say “I want to make a JRPG,” I will. The mechanics are distinct and interesting and worth examining on their own; no JRPG in existence could ever stand up to even a half-decent RPG if we judged it by RPG terms. The roleplaying just isn’t there.

Judging JRPGs by their own standards lets us see these wonderful games for what they really are. JRPGs are not RPGs from Japan. They’re not even RPGs. Once, when I made this argument, a guy fought back by arguing that a game wasn’t an RPG unless it had a party (Witcher 3 doesn’t), a bestiary (pretty sure New Vegas hasn’t got one), was turn-based (quick, someone tell Dragon Age!), and had a linear narrative (hahahahahahaha!).

“But you’re playing a role!”

Playing a role means following a script, which is what you do in any game without choice and consequence. Roleplay is a specific kind of improvisational acting that’s about creating and defining your relationship with the world around you. Dragon Age: Origins is a roleplaying game: you can be a dwarf commoner or a human noble or whatever, and your various choices will have major impacts on your relationships. You can define the person that you are. They are tabula rasa.

In every JRPG I’ve ever seen, you are a specific character with a specific personality, and while you may have some choices--Noctis in FFXV can choose to let the crew pull over and take a group photo whenever Prompto asks him too--those choices have little impact on the overall narrative or Noctis’ relationships with the characters around him. Lunafreya will always love him, Gladiolus will always get mad at him when Ignis loses his vision, etc.

Different kinds of games.

Pillars of Eternity, which isn’t a great game, but one I enjoyed well enough, let me set my character’s stats prior to playing the game. I defined my character as a rogue with great mechanical skills and dexterity. In Final Fantasy XV, when you level up… you can’t really control how your character’s stats changed.

None of this is bad! It’s just different, like the difference between a third person shooter and a first person shooter. First person shooting lets you focus on the environment and your interactions with it, but third person shooters tend to focus on your character. They have their own unique strengths. You can’t judge a first person shooter by third person standards and vice versa. The same is true with JRPGs and RPGs. They are different games. And that’s good.

The Game:

When it comes to Final Fantasy XV, this is the foundation I have. I’m vaguely turned off by all the stories I’ve heard, I love the aesthetics of most of them, and the gameplay is something I feel is wholly distinct from other games.

Final Fantasy XV appealed to me because it had real-time action combat instead of being a heavily menu-focused turn-based affair.

So, here’s the deal: you’re Prompto, a prince, who is on his way to meet the object--and really, she is treated like an object in this game--of his arranged marriage, Lunafreya, who’s the princess of a rival kingdom, I guess? Except the wiki says she’s a captive of Niflheim, but she seems to get along well with her brother, who is in charge of the armies of Niflheim, so… like… yeah, I don’t really know what’s going on there.

The wiki also says she’s the “main heroine” of the game, even though she barely has any screen time at all. She has magical powers that cures people of some weird plague that’s making nights last longer, except that the nights are still getting longer and more people are succumbing to the plague, so she’s really bad at her job.

Honestly, she’s just there to look pretty and say things like “Noct, please hurry.” Then she dies. Then one time her ghost shows up and uses force powers to save the crew by removing plot armor that was only put there so she could show up to remove it.

She is not emotionally important to you.

This isn’t like Alan Wake, a game that reveals over time the complex nature of Alan’s relationship and just how wonderful of a person Alice Wake is. In that game, Alan was motivated by guilt, and you, as a player, could connect to him because you got to see all of this unfold. You wanted to help Alan find Alice not because “Alice is Alan’s wife,” but because you saw that these two wonderful, flawed people loved and cared for each other and deserved happiness.

Lunafreya is a pantomime of a love interest, but there’s never any real love there, so there’s no urgency to actually chase her down, no sense of loss when she dies. It’s not all her fault though (I mean, duh, it’s Square’s fault). Noct is equally culpable. He’s just… kinda empty. He’s a shell who occasionally feels things when the script calls for it (ur dad died, be sad, ur gf died, be sad), but who doesn’t feel like a real person. I don’t really care about anything Noct wants. I just kind of do the objectives because they’re what’s next.

I spent my whole life being told that JRPG stories were the best that video games had to offer, and… look, being completely honest here, Final Fantasy XV is the JRPG plot as described to me--incomprehensible, pointless, and horribly paced, doing grandiose things because the developers want to do grandiose things, never earning a second of the awe it expects you to have.

“Yup,” I found myself thinking when I finished it, “this is exactly like every JRPG that has ever been described to me except Earthbound.”

Earthbound is great.

Final Fantasy XV makes the mistake of assuming that because it looks epic, it is epic, but since it earns nothing, it isn’t epic at all. It’s a hodgepodge of ideas. Maybe other JRPGs do a better job, but based on every other JRPG I’ve played, like Xenoblade Chronicles and Suikoden, it’s just not a very compelling game.

So it may surprise you to know that I liked it a great deal.

Brotherhood.

In my film education, we talked a great deal about the idea of the “male as default.” A lot of this is rooted in idiotic Freudian psychology (especially all the Lacan stuff), so it’s as bunk as astrology, even when it sounds good, but let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater here: all media has a perspective, and most media’s perspective assumes the male perspective as the neutral one.

American film does this too: it assumes everything is seen through American eyes. Most Hollywood movies are very, very American-as-default things, but that doesn’t mean they’re American movies. I’m not just talking geography, I’m talking assumptions about customs, camera angles, lighting, and so on. Russian film (European films too, but especially Russian film) tends to focus on specific body parts, using juxtaposition in editing to create specific senses about things. American films tend to favor wider shots, creating those same moods through things like motion and staging.

A film from another country can feel like it came from a different mind than the Hollywood monolith…

...and yet…

...there are very few genuinely American films out there. This is partly because most American films are built for export to other countries, so rather than focusing on specifically American subject matter, they focus on more universal things like drama and romance. Since America is so good at exporting American film, and many other cultures imitate the stylings of American films (because learning from successful things is how you succeed, after all), we end up with a very dominant American culture that has very little to actually say about America. In fact, lots of what America is tends to get lost in the shuffle.

If you’re lucky, you get filmmakers like Terrence Malick, who make films that are really about America and being American, but the significance of this is lost because people look at it and go “why do you make American films? All films are American!” But there is something specific there. Something interesting.

Maleness is the same way. It’s the assumed default in a lot of narratives, but because of this, very little attention is given to it. I once walked into the USAF museum while the XB-70 Valkyrie was in one of the hangars and didn’t see it because it was so big I thought it was the ceiling. Maleness in fiction is like that; it’s rarely examined closely because it’s too busy being big.

Here are two men. They are friends. The end.

We rarely look at how men bond, how they perceive each other, how they fight, how they talk and think because we’re too busy writing stories about the basic, empty characters who travel from point A to point B and the adventures they have along the way.

Oh, sure, sometimes you have people interrogating maleness, but they’re really only doing it to say “look what’s bad about being a man,” because they assume that male-as-default means we already see male-as-good, when really, male-as-default is male-as-nonspecifity. The beauty of maleness is rarely ever explored.

Somehow, despite all its narrative shortcomings, Final Fantasy XV excels at its understanding of maleness.

I think a big part of this is the road trip nature of the game. Sure, they’re ostensibly on the run and simultaneously on their way to a wedding, but that doesn’t prevent The Boys from having a good time. Each boy has a specific personality that is brought out in interesting ways; Ignis cares a stickler for safety and rules, Prompto is energetic and mischievous, Gladiolus is strong and confident and protective of those who are not. Noctis is basically an empty shell, but when he’s interacting with The Boys, there are still good moments to be found.

As you drive through the world, fighting monsters and helping friends, you learn more about these boys and the things they care about. Gladiolus is self-conscious about seeming too caring, but he cares so deeply, especially about his little sister Iris. He recognizes her crush on Noctis and even tricks Noctis into giving her flowers, knowing it would make Iris’ day. Prompto’s lower-class upbringing means he’s tremendously insecure about his relationship with the other boys. They’re not aware of how awkward he feels in the presence of people much wealthier and more important than he is, and when he makes it known, they do everything they can to assure him that he’s their brother and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

There’s something else that I’ve never been able to put into words. It’s a feeling I have occasionally, and one I cherish. When interacting with most men, there’s a degree of camaraderie, like, hey, we’re all on the same team, we’re cheering alongside each other, that kind of thing. There’s a whole second language that men are only capable of employing with other men that’s completely nonverbal, but not all men are comfortable using it with each other right away.

There comes a point in a male relationship where everything just sort of clicks. That guy over there is just a man you know, but that guy over there, you and him are mates and you’d fuckin die for each other if you had to. When you do things together, there’s a sense of rightness and appropriateness to it all. If your best friend asks you to help him carry some groceries in from the car, it’s different than if you help your next door neighbor who you don’t really know all that well.

I’m sure other, better writers have written about this sense of brotherhood. When I’m playing Destiny with a matchmade team and we roll an enemy squad into a mercy rule defeat, it feels good. When my friends and I trigger the mercy rule against the same thing, it’s like, heck yeah, these are the men who mean the most to me in this fuckin world and I am so lucky to have them with me.

Final Fantasy XV does its darndest to put this in the mechanics. The boys res each other during battle. They all have unique combo moves that play off each other. The battle barks are all designed to make you feel like… hell yeah, these are my bros, we kick ass together.

How many games just have two dudes talkin about dude things together? How many games are like “yeah, bro, let’s go running in the sand and whoever outruns the other is the winner!” How many games get that great banter is affectionate? How many games are willing to have a bunch of dudes who love each other and will die for each other whose relationships deteriorate over time but they come back from them stronger than ever?

There are a lot of stories about men in games, but very few stories about being a man.

Final Fantasy XV might be the best of ‘em.

And it’s still… dumb and flawed at times. I think I would’ve liked a more interesting protagonist and central conflict. I think the game is at its best when you’re cruising around a big, open world, humming about chocobos. I think Square had the opportunity to make a huge, incredible game about an adventure and they wasted it on a game that gets progressively linear (in a bad way) over time. I mentally checked out by the end of the game. I didn’t care that some random giant dude showed up, I beat the shit out of him, and then I had to fight a couple more dudes just like him, and then after beating them into submission too… we, uh, killed the guy who was stalking us the whole game? Why would I connect with random giant ghost kings when I spent the entire game playing alongside my brothers? Instead they get knocked out and fall asleep on the floor and I have the ending I was always destined to have.

Man, fuck destiny.

The game is great when it’s being personal, but it sucks when it’s trying to do all this other stuff. There are no affectionate moments between Noctis and Lunafreya. Mister Badguy, whose name I forgot and don’t feel like looking up because fuck that guy, he was boring, has to exposit his backstory (i was gonna be king but then i didn’t get to be king so i decided to have my revenge in like 2000 years’ time! mwahahaha!!! here is my entire personal history!) instead of just being interesting on a dramatic level.

It’s bad when it’s trying to be a grandiose RPG. It’s great when it’s doing something I can’t think of any other game doing before. I think you should play the first 8 or 9 chapters of the game. I think everyone should. That’s where the fun lies.

What about the gameplay?

The gameplay is kind of neat. Some stuff doesn’t feel nearly as good as other modern open-world games (like, uh, driving, which is kinda terrible and inconsistent about when it lets you drive, and interrupts your drive in really annoying ways at night, but the attention given to things like “needing to fill up with gas” is really cool).

Other stuff is clearly channeling How JRPGs Work, which is cool. The way the game gives you XP or deals with magic and abilities feels Very Classically JRPG. But it’s all wrapped up in a real-time action game that’s nowhere near as satisfying as Dragon’s Dogma or Ninja Gaiden or something. I’m not saying it has to be, but holding down a button and watching your character autoattack isn’t very fun. Zipping around with your teleport power is totally awesome though.

Magic is super strong and I probably should’ve used it more, but I was never really in love with crafting it. The leveling grid is kinda cool, but I have no idea how, when I did nearly every quest in the game, someone is supposed to unlock some of those skills. It just doesn’t seem possible considering the game’s content.

Quest design isn’t great; most of it’s just random fetch quests. The open world itself is nice most of the time, especially when you have a chocobo, but because the game’s so invested in making you feel like you’re on a road trip, you end up doing a lot of driving which a more generous fast travel system would have avoided, which means you end up seeing a lot of the same places over and over again, which kinda kills the whole road trip vibe.

And So it Ends.

There’s DLC. I never did that. I kinda soured on the whole epic journey by the end because of how boring the solo stuff was, and the DLC appears to be all solo stuff. Sorry, but the overall narrative and the gameplay just isn’t there. That’s not what makes FFXV good. The camaraderie is. The vibes are. Listening to the sizzle of ignis’ cooking or watching a huge monster fly in from above. There are so many incredible moments in this game. It’s too bad the narrative and the combat couldn’t keep up.

I think FFXV benefits and suffers from being a big 3D real-time game. A lot of classic JRPGs are 2D affairs where you have to communicate everything purely through text boxes. FFXV has the benefit of voice and physical performance, adding a huge layer of nuance and personality to its characters, their wants, and needs. But because it’s a big, bombastic 3D game, it can’t help itself, and wastes time with boring, endless set pieces that look cool but do little else.

Could I recommend it? I dunno.

But it kinda makes me want to try other JRPGs, even though there’s really nothing else like it out there.

[airoasis]

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/chirpy-burpy-cheap-sheep-father-ted-series-3-episode-2-dead-parrot/

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

Howdy Fargo ah okay good day you have Chris watching excellent for the competitors quality lad ha ha freely hey there Fargo benefit how’s the risk is quality when you give up on him this 12 months father well I put the complete annual eating allowance on him to win if he doesn’t win what that implies fiber well we is not going to have any heating however but it’s riskier stays as warm as a summer time heckler had been laughing come on instruct Chris he’s a champ talk about it’s a specified J and also you heard about this creature going around terrorizing sheep on the island no inform me extra giant is a Jaguar the vehicle recognize what to be reducing and that is all tooth enormous white teeth the sheriff is called as a kill get do good it is best a subject of time doesn’t get any Amoy she no mind she be nontoxic Oh youngsters yay so nevertheless it’s simplest a topic of time be really affordable the sheriff is called Duggal supply the album a leisure no come on Ted it’s remarkable I suppose men and women will soon give up paying attention to pop track and take heed to this kind of thing instead from what I hear within the charts in these days but i am now not sure if that is now not going down already what this is so excellent ok didn’t it we have obtained all forms of matters as if by means of magic i will create a giant crowd of invisible dots or take you on a commute into darkest Africa i will deliver you right into a spooky fortress on a stormy night hiya craggy Island broken condominium father technically talking father Fargo father can you come over here fast and absolutely Fargo what appears to be the youth I used to go out to will is some thing of a star go boil this is doing you very well you look terrible does not you do good all of it I failed to get so much sleep father I stored considering I heard this terrible howling noise good that’ll be the Beast what’s that there may be whatever terrible on the moors farther north we haven’t any more then there may be some thing horrible roaming the round the position where in general there can be extra father they consider it probably a style of massive fox dougas sorry hey it could not be Jack would you would see her someone could mistake him for a tremendous madcap take into account to wildering soar years father Jack could be very a lot plagued by the changing of the seasons for a brief at the same time a marvelous serenity enters his life and he’s as one with nature he is first-class when he’s within the mood Sonia’s last little bit longer I better go on make some tea Dugan I would turn off that file however it is off what do you mean Chris isn’t within the competition did the chump you ought to enter him all this talk of the beast has obtained to UM his now that’s right I took a image of him this morning nerves I imply Fargo it’s she he continually had an awfully artistic temperament father yeah Robin will not be a live performance penis is a she you I have no idea oh my god I mean while you compare it with what he looked like final yr two totally extraordinary sheep he’s off his food he is now not snoozing and he started took ball what am I going to do Fargo pull your self together Chris wants greater than he is ever wanted you come on I want to see him cargo that is an order take me to see Chris the sad sheep god dude you will have to have visible him he’s just a shadow of a sheep no longer surprised head if I was a sheep i would be watching my back correct now proper considering of the Beast this is largest for cats and it can be got a retractable legs so they are able to leap opportu better if you realize watch head it lights up at night time and the four ears bite them up for listening and the opposite two are style of back up right here the crows are as enormous as cooked and for some rationale is so some Indus worry of stamps mrs.Doyle was once telling me that has bought magnets on tails so they’re constituted of metallic it could attach itself to you and as a substitute of the notes it’s acquired 4 hours it’s a legend it would not exist right head the way in which as a Phantom of the Opera would not exist that was the Opera does not exist so i’m not going to get into this what does exist and what doesn’t exist debate once more okay but i’ll ought to insist you add these last two examples to the chart k Duggal no i’m extra involved about that i+ on Chris becoming king of the sheep i do not suppose it would win then no burping sheep has ever won us what about big Brendan in 1983 yeah anyway it is only a heating finances and seem what the weather information says just last yr’s climate information what that is this year I need to go and see if John and Mary would let me take my a reimbursement the next day to come I might go down with you see if they’ve obtained a different sound effects album quantity 5 reasonable sufficient I wager probably the most v-rod are on the within of his head I win a yawn it has a inexperienced leaf a chair to load a hand round and played a barrel hello Fargo and then he would not have any eyebrows at all except on Saturday you study from manners i will cellphone away the cake how do you love that huh whats up John hello silence fairly hi there Tiger McGuire very oh oh she’s mindful and her mother Wow it can be a room any one in the cupboard no father Mary Todd Mary I forgot you have been there proper I notion you heard your mother’s no I didn’t go to me mom in spite of everything i’m within the cabinet Mary what are you doing in there oh I understand it’s on account that of this beast of craggy Island factor I idea that Mary can be safer in the cupboard i am Errol show up welcome to you for father oh yeah percent of 20 includes i’ll get them love you keep in the cupboard John can i’ve a word ma’am hiya Mary no three days mechanics oh yeah i’m nice anyway i am sorry father a bets a raffle it’s just but when the girl would not have the operation she is not going to be under fetch water for her village i am sorry father if the pite failed to stay up for the percentages of prolong to twenty to one by reason of Chris’s anxious troubles anyway your cigarette thanks Ted they shouldn’t have the sound result out and we would as well simply go hi bye-bye then i am hoping you are convinced I shut up oh appear there is big Reed howdy enormous what are you eager about there Ted you must see the large critical look for your face I can’t see Crispin on this competition guru Ted it can be pointless even interested by it you are most effective wasting your time there’s nothing we are able to do about the trouble we simply have got to accept the actual fact and that’s that how about we carry Kris over right here for a while might be to alter your doing just right oh ho top notch exotic or some thing we could do failed to I say it at least India they’re just a 2nd in the past no no you didn’t you mentioned the unique opposite there used to be undoubtedly nothing we would do simply Ted you will have performed this to me earlier than I took the freedom of tape within the dialog simply have somewhat you’re most effective losing your time there’s nothing we can do the main issue I stand corrected ah serious now anyway i am still no longer certain about this now father do not fear more difficult but the subsequent time you see him he’ll be a new sheet if no longer with making me to a jumper and some chops i’m terribly sorry sir that used to be just a PI i’m terribly terribly sorry i will be off then k so and significantly it was one location he can also be certain peace and quiet I believe will probably be an insult to you if I conclude that sentence you’re a parity father sure we’re additionally try to get Chris into form for the competitors do you believe what are you company like a cup of tea father it is not she fellow i do not suppose they drink group has warmth oil now not until you have some distinctive sheet tea sure I do have some sheet tea in the kitchen rightful them provide them given some nothing okay so Godhead it is just about noon we have got to rise up this early question me accomplished Duggal we’ve obtained to get Chris from watching like this to watching like this it’s your father digit is he i am sorry we tried everything I went I think that I is I better take him residence aha ah gotcha did you what did you just did my exceptional so recognize what to assert father can i purchase you a drink to have fun alright mcdougal you mind Krister we get again and don’t let him get lost preserve an eye fixed on them and keep that front door closed ok Ted is the relaxation taking Shiva hi there did you see and you spark off gratefully over feeling your neck definitely located 33 that is how close once I must pay extra in these pix ever you can stack this the great baccarat seem at me eat yeah excellent sure that is like Duggal I discover that the front door is huge open oh it’s sure Ted as we are currently sheepish oh ah dude I advised you to hold the front door closed no simply maintain up their head how do we all know which option to go she’s like every wool bearing animals instinctively journey north but colder mr.Self so we have to go north which way is out I have no idea that you would be able to come from throughout us the Sioux Indians and the Arizona wilderness used to be able to pinpoint the specific place of Buffalo by gauging the position of the moon and putting their ears to the ground simply Ted perhaps the sound is coming from that stereo it’s Chris y’all right he’s high-quality he wants to realise it used to be simply something stereo placing from the tree i am home Dougal I suppose i am establishing to figure out what’s been occurring good it’s been an easy choice there may be one alpha no twin-off and alternatively than waste came with a speech and get on with the job of a recognized factor the winner who in these days has come compelled on this competitors to look who the winner is in the king of the sheep competition that we now have all come to in these days wondering who Andy will be to win the prize of king of the Sheep the winner of this year’s king of the Sheep competitors is up howdy what is the meaning of this this competition is a sham and a fraud and as sham how dare you there may be been a provides and rankings try and sabotage this excessive profile sheep competitors little puzzle are in this very room chines Reed and hood Hastings you higher have enjoyable the fact that opus hassle all I do I do you are the ones who regularly shatters of the so known as beast of tiny island continually within hearing distance of Krista sheep paragon of the champion and it was once you who used a copy of BBC sound results vol 5 to add approach to those pants will claim an influence of she could now not aid however be satisfied through the late-night time howlings of horrible monster Taipei and from way method approach work up pretty photo father Freddy has painted how dare you convey disgrace on this fella location or knock form and let me too difficult on them so you don’t know your identify brought do not be too rough on the malum they were quite simply pawns actual villain in this piece has yet to be published Fargo boils what yeah I acquired cool now it’s my deal with it was once you who used to be disenchanted on the bad odds Chris used to be receiving you who plan to govern those odds by way of sabotaging your own sheep after which staging a awesome healing on the day of the competition you who paid tremendous and hood to talk concerning the beast in front of Chris ah Oh James hi there there I didn’t depend on the shallowness of your accomplices who use their newfound wealth to purchase a fur coat and a crown and it was you who purchased the BBC sound effects document sixty four for the dramatic alterations you who gave the sheet to me realizing that may be a priest with an intuitive figuring out of sheep I might nurse him again to wellness you wish it can be now not true it is ordinary maintain the Panisse father no he’s lost the believe of his sheep that’s punishment adequate the farmer who deals chiefly to affordable excuse me there may be slightly of extension right here and i want some recent air one thing Ted if Chris has been disqualified does no longer mean you have misplaced the heating allowance money on the bed I realize it’s a thorough step Duggal but it is very very bloodless here three months then Ted certainly never go to the bathroom first

[batterymonster2021]

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/chirpy-burpy-cheap-sheep-father-ted-series-3-episode-2-dead-parrot/

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

Howdy Fargo ah okay good day you have Chris watching excellent for the competitors quality lad ha ha freely hey there Fargo benefit how’s the risk is quality when you give up on him this 12 months father well I put the complete annual eating allowance on him to win if he doesn’t win what that implies fiber well we is not going to have any heating however but it’s riskier stays as warm as a summer time heckler had been laughing come on instruct Chris he’s a champ talk about it’s a specified J and also you heard about this creature going around terrorizing sheep on the island no inform me extra giant is a Jaguar the vehicle recognize what to be reducing and that is all tooth enormous white teeth the sheriff is called as a kill get do good it is best a subject of time doesn’t get any Amoy she no mind she be nontoxic Oh youngsters yay so nevertheless it’s simplest a topic of time be really affordable the sheriff is called Duggal supply the album a leisure no come on Ted it’s remarkable I suppose men and women will soon give up paying attention to pop track and take heed to this kind of thing instead from what I hear within the charts in these days but i am now not sure if that is now not going down already what this is so excellent ok didn’t it we have obtained all forms of matters as if by means of magic i will create a giant crowd of invisible dots or take you on a commute into darkest Africa i will deliver you right into a spooky fortress on a stormy night hiya craggy Island broken condominium father technically talking father Fargo father can you come over here fast and absolutely Fargo what appears to be the youth I used to go out to will is some thing of a star go boil this is doing you very well you look terrible does not you do good all of it I failed to get so much sleep father I stored considering I heard this terrible howling noise good that’ll be the Beast what’s that there may be whatever terrible on the moors farther north we haven’t any more then there may be some thing horrible roaming the round the position where in general there can be extra father they consider it probably a style of massive fox dougas sorry hey it could not be Jack would you would see her someone could mistake him for a tremendous madcap take into account to wildering soar years father Jack could be very a lot plagued by the changing of the seasons for a brief at the same time a marvelous serenity enters his life and he’s as one with nature he is first-class when he’s within the mood Sonia’s last little bit longer I better go on make some tea Dugan I would turn off that file however it is off what do you mean Chris isn’t within the competition did the chump you ought to enter him all this talk of the beast has obtained to UM his now that’s right I took a image of him this morning nerves I imply Fargo it’s she he continually had an awfully artistic temperament father yeah Robin will not be a live performance penis is a she you I have no idea oh my god I mean while you compare it with what he looked like final yr two totally extraordinary sheep he’s off his food he is now not snoozing and he started took ball what am I going to do Fargo pull your self together Chris wants greater than he is ever wanted you come on I want to see him cargo that is an order take me to see Chris the sad sheep god dude you will have to have visible him he’s just a shadow of a sheep no longer surprised head if I was a sheep i would be watching my back correct now proper considering of the Beast this is largest for cats and it can be got a retractable legs so they are able to leap opportu better if you realize watch head it lights up at night time and the four ears bite them up for listening and the opposite two are style of back up right here the crows are as enormous as cooked and for some rationale is so some Indus worry of stamps mrs.Doyle was once telling me that has bought magnets on tails so they’re constituted of metallic it could attach itself to you and as a substitute of the notes it’s acquired 4 hours it’s a legend it would not exist right head the way in which as a Phantom of the Opera would not exist that was the Opera does not exist so i’m not going to get into this what does exist and what doesn’t exist debate once more okay but i’ll ought to insist you add these last two examples to the chart k Duggal no i’m extra involved about that i+ on Chris becoming king of the sheep i do not suppose it would win then no burping sheep has ever won us what about big Brendan in 1983 yeah anyway it is only a heating finances and seem what the weather information says just last yr’s climate information what that is this year I need to go and see if John and Mary would let me take my a reimbursement the next day to come I might go down with you see if they’ve obtained a different sound effects album quantity 5 reasonable sufficient I wager probably the most v-rod are on the within of his head I win a yawn it has a inexperienced leaf a chair to load a hand round and played a barrel hello Fargo and then he would not have any eyebrows at all except on Saturday you study from manners i will cellphone away the cake how do you love that huh whats up John hello silence fairly hi there Tiger McGuire very oh oh she’s mindful and her mother Wow it can be a room any one in the cupboard no father Mary Todd Mary I forgot you have been there proper I notion you heard your mother’s no I didn’t go to me mom in spite of everything i’m within the cabinet Mary what are you doing in there oh I understand it’s on account that of this beast of craggy Island factor I idea that Mary can be safer in the cupboard i am Errol show up welcome to you for father oh yeah percent of 20 includes i’ll get them love you keep in the cupboard John can i’ve a word ma’am hiya Mary no three days mechanics oh yeah i’m nice anyway i am sorry father a bets a raffle it’s just but when the girl would not have the operation she is not going to be under fetch water for her village i am sorry father if the pite failed to stay up for the percentages of prolong to twenty to one by reason of Chris’s anxious troubles anyway your cigarette thanks Ted they shouldn’t have the sound result out and we would as well simply go hi bye-bye then i am hoping you are convinced I shut up oh appear there is big Reed howdy enormous what are you eager about there Ted you must see the large critical look for your face I can’t see Crispin on this competition guru Ted it can be pointless even interested by it you are most effective wasting your time there’s nothing we are able to do about the trouble we simply have got to accept the actual fact and that’s that how about we carry Kris over right here for a while might be to alter your doing just right oh ho top notch exotic or some thing we could do failed to I say it at least India they’re just a 2nd in the past no no you didn’t you mentioned the unique opposite there used to be undoubtedly nothing we would do simply Ted you will have performed this to me earlier than I took the freedom of tape within the dialog simply have somewhat you’re most effective losing your time there’s nothing we can do the main issue I stand corrected ah serious now anyway i am still no longer certain about this now father do not fear more difficult but the subsequent time you see him he’ll be a new sheet if no longer with making me to a jumper and some chops i’m terribly sorry sir that used to be just a PI i’m terribly terribly sorry i will be off then k so and significantly it was one location he can also be certain peace and quiet I believe will probably be an insult to you if I conclude that sentence you’re a parity father sure we’re additionally try to get Chris into form for the competitors do you believe what are you company like a cup of tea father it is not she fellow i do not suppose they drink group has warmth oil now not until you have some distinctive sheet tea sure I do have some sheet tea in the kitchen rightful them provide them given some nothing okay so Godhead it is just about noon we have got to rise up this early question me accomplished Duggal we’ve obtained to get Chris from watching like this to watching like this it’s your father digit is he i am sorry we tried everything I went I think that I is I better take him residence aha ah gotcha did you what did you just did my exceptional so recognize what to assert father can i purchase you a drink to have fun alright mcdougal you mind Krister we get again and don’t let him get lost preserve an eye fixed on them and keep that front door closed ok Ted is the relaxation taking Shiva hi there did you see and you spark off gratefully over feeling your neck definitely located 33 that is how close once I must pay extra in these pix ever you can stack this the great baccarat seem at me eat yeah excellent sure that is like Duggal I discover that the front door is huge open oh it’s sure Ted as we are currently sheepish oh ah dude I advised you to hold the front door closed no simply maintain up their head how do we all know which option to go she’s like every wool bearing animals instinctively journey north but colder mr.Self so we have to go north which way is out I have no idea that you would be able to come from throughout us the Sioux Indians and the Arizona wilderness used to be able to pinpoint the specific place of Buffalo by gauging the position of the moon and putting their ears to the ground simply Ted perhaps the sound is coming from that stereo it’s Chris y’all right he’s high-quality he wants to realise it used to be simply something stereo placing from the tree i am home Dougal I suppose i am establishing to figure out what’s been occurring good it’s been an easy choice there may be one alpha no twin-off and alternatively than waste came with a speech and get on with the job of a recognized factor the winner who in these days has come compelled on this competitors to look who the winner is in the king of the sheep competition that we now have all come to in these days wondering who Andy will be to win the prize of king of the Sheep the winner of this year’s king of the Sheep competitors is up howdy what is the meaning of this this competition is a sham and a fraud and as sham how dare you there may be been a provides and rankings try and sabotage this excessive profile sheep competitors little puzzle are in this very room chines Reed and hood Hastings you higher have enjoyable the fact that opus hassle all I do I do you are the ones who regularly shatters of the so known as beast of tiny island continually within hearing distance of Krista sheep paragon of the champion and it was once you who used a copy of BBC sound results vol 5 to add approach to those pants will claim an influence of she could now not aid however be satisfied through the late-night time howlings of horrible monster Taipei and from way method approach work up pretty photo father Freddy has painted how dare you convey disgrace on this fella location or knock form and let me too difficult on them so you don’t know your identify brought do not be too rough on the malum they were quite simply pawns actual villain in this piece has yet to be published Fargo boils what yeah I acquired cool now it’s my deal with it was once you who used to be disenchanted on the bad odds Chris used to be receiving you who plan to govern those odds by way of sabotaging your own sheep after which staging a awesome healing on the day of the competition you who paid tremendous and hood to talk concerning the beast in front of Chris ah Oh James hi there there I didn’t depend on the shallowness of your accomplices who use their newfound wealth to purchase a fur coat and a crown and it was you who purchased the BBC sound effects document sixty four for the dramatic alterations you who gave the sheet to me realizing that may be a priest with an intuitive figuring out of sheep I might nurse him again to wellness you wish it can be now not true it is ordinary maintain the Panisse father no he’s lost the believe of his sheep that’s punishment adequate the farmer who deals chiefly to affordable excuse me there may be slightly of extension right here and i want some recent air one thing Ted if Chris has been disqualified does no longer mean you have misplaced the heating allowance money on the bed I realize it’s a thorough step Duggal but it is very very bloodless here three months then Ted certainly never go to the bathroom first

[mittensmcedgelord]

Phantoms

LST didn't help me with a title this time.

Yet more of the mimic story wherein Morgan discovers a recording of a Fatal Fortress game, learns something new about his former self, and makes plans to avoid a doctor's visit. ( And where I attempt to lighten the mood after the last update. )

Previous: https://mittensmcedgelord.tumblr.com/post/161916575340/the-human-condition

I feel like I know them. If I shut my eyes, I can hear their thoughts pulse through the coral, the subtle vibrations of memory ghosts. I’ve spent the whole day listening to a backlog of employee recordings from Talos 1 that were ejected when the apex Typhon attacked. Alex held onto them in the hope that maybe, eventually, we’d find their surviving family. I’m sure it wasn’t purely altruistic. There are plenty of logs that are scientific, bits and pieces of Bellamy’s work or employees showing off their new neuromod skills. There are more that aren’t. I told him I wanted to study people, try to understand how they work. It took a lot of convincing and some shameless playing of the ‘little brother’ card, but I got access to the files.

 The memories I have don’t go back far enough to remember the boltcaster fights or the Fatal Fortress games. Not that I think either Yu was ever invited to join in. It sounds like it was a different world back then. The crew is still relatively optimistic. There are still dart gun fights. There’s a different color to it now, though. There’s no Yellow Tulip, for one. Which means that there’s a distinct lack of drunken karaoke and that I will never get to hear Sho sing off key love songs outside of TranScribe recordings. And after the invasion I don’t think anyone is in the mood for drunken karaoke anyway. Now that they’ve encountered Typhon, humans are becoming a little more like them in order to continue. The priority is survival, at all costs, and everything else is frills.

 So, it’s a pleasant surprise when I come across a second recording of Sho singing, this time completely sober. It’s the song she performed during the big show to promote musical neuromods. There’s a few other voices laughing and applauding. Someone wants to know where she even got a banana to use as a microphone. Someone else is teasing her for taking the ‘role play’ aspect of the game too seriously.

“I didn’t realize you dual classed as a bard,” the DM quips. I recognize the voice as Abigail Foy’s from the simulation. “Alright, you get 10XP for that performance. And…”

 I hear shuffling and more laughter. Sho groans. There’s clapping all around the table again before the DM clears her throat and continues triumphantly.

 “You also earn ten gold from the audience.”

 “Hey,” a male voice interrupts. He’s doing his best to sound offended, but it’s obvious he’s not. Something slides across the table. “When I performed I only got silver coins. And I’m an actual bard.”

 “Yes, but she actually sang,” Foy says matter-of-factly and taps something on the tabletop.

 “So did I.”

 “Poorly. Besides, we all know it’s because Abby thinks our new player is cute.” Someone laughs. High pitched. Female. A hint of an accent I don’t quite recognize.

 “I’m cute,” he protests. I have to put a hand over my mouth so I don’t laugh louder than the recording. The other players are enjoying it too. He must have done something because a sharp peal of laughter comes through the speaker.

 “Really, Chang? You’re trying to get Foy to say you’re cute?”

 “And you’re only filling in for Elias for tonight.” The second male voice scoffs. “What do you really XP and gold for?”

 “It’s the principle.”

 “Oh my god,” Sho laughs. “Can someone please just tell Chang he’s cute so we can get on with it? Zack? Emma?”

 “Don’t look at me,” the second male voice says. “Besides, I thought he were busy swooning over Dr. Yu? Or is it just a coincidence that your password is ‘OMGhotboss’?”

 “How did you even know that?”

 “It’s on a post-it note on your desk. It’s more of a surprise that anyone on the station doesn’t know it.”

 I wonder if Morgan ever noticed it. I remember in the sim I saw it almost immediately. He wasn’t exactly trying to hide it. Morgan must have walked past his work station every day and caught a glimpse of it. The ‘devastatingly handsome’ line on his psychoscope profile makes a lot more sense now. Jason Chang was dead by the time the simulation started, though. There weren’t a lot of recordings, either. He had unrestricted access to the office during the testing, which seems like a lot of power for a secretary. Given the office I remember was mostly filled with useless junk, a few books, and a stash of moonshine there probably wasn’t too much to worry about. Another player—Emma, I’m assuming—interrupts my train of thought.

 “Does this have to do with that time at the Yellow Tulip?”

 “You mean the New Year’s party?” Sho sounds smug as she asks. She knows the answer, but clearly wants to hear it from Chang.

 And this is when the audio runs out. I might have yelled ‘damn it’ when the playback stopped, but now at least I know which files to search through for the other game logs. I am, however, left with a significant amount of unanswered questions. Particularly about the New Year’s party in question.

 “How’s it going, Morgan?” Alex’s voice cuts in over the TranScribe. Responding to higher levels of brain activity, maybe. I’m sure whoever monitors my data feed has been getting some interesting response levels.

 “Great.” I’m a little too enthusiastic in responding. I also just found the next log for this session courtesy of Emma Beatty’s ‘IMPORTANT MEETING NOTES’ file.

 “That’s great.” He sounds genuinely happy about that. Considering what a mess my first few days interacting with the crew have been like, I can’t blame him. I hear footsteps on the other end of the line briefly before Alex comes back in. “I’m glad the files are useful. Learning anything interesting?”

 “A little. Wish there was more data on some of the employees. Emma. Zachary. Jason. The latter particularly.”

 “Jason Chang?” He snorts. It’s almost a laugh. “You were drinking buddies. Or something like that. He’s probably why your entire stash of moonshine was missing when you finally made it to your office.”

 I make an executive decision not to mention the “hot boss” thing. Or the party. Alex sounds like he’s impatient to get to the topic he actually called about. I load up the next recording and let it buffer while I wait. He gives me a few seconds to type before continuing ahead.

 “You think you’ll be ready to go face the world again soon?”

 “Yeah. Definitely.”

 “Doctor Igwe told me you were having some trouble with your mimetics the other day.”

 “I wasn’t feeling great. Some people cry, I turn into wispy black sentient smoke. Kind of a weird trade off.”

 “Morgan, try to be serious.” When he says that, I can actually hear him taking his glasses off and pinching his nose. The first Morgan must have been a real joy to work with if that’s such an innate reaction in him. “If you think that’s going to happen again, I need you to be honest with me. We’ve never monitored extreme emotions in Typhon before. It could be a natural reaction to stressful stimuli.”

 “It might. I’m still getting the hang of things.” I’m aware of what a vast understatement this is, but I want Alex to have some faith in me. His optimism about the project is contagious. I’d rather not lose that. I take a breath, hold it for a second, and let it out. My thoughts clear. “If it happens again and I start to change, what do I do? Head back up here?”

 “Or the Typhon Research Lab if you can’t get to the grav shaft. Dr. Park knows about your situation. She’ll help.” He pauses. Something clinks against glass. “She actually wanted to schedule an appointment with you for a physical exam, but it didn’t seem like a good idea right now.”

 “What kind of physical?”

 “DNA stability, mostly. See if the dosage of psi hypos you’re getting is right or if you need any more cell lines to balance things out.” Another pause. I wish I could hear thoughts over TranScribe, but no such luck. Alex makes a small humming noise. “This isn’t about what happened the other day, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s all routine. Well, it’s going to be a routine. We’ve all got a lot of adjusting to do, but I think once we start getting things back to something like normal it’ll start going a lot smoother.”

 “Yeah.” Now I’m a little glad you can’t project thoughts through a TranScribe. I’m pretty sure fear of doctor’s visits isn’t something I’m supposed to have.  The name Bellamy comes to mind, a swirl of respect and regret, and I remember that I saw his corpse in the sim. I tune out just long enough to get my mind in order and come back to myself to catch the end of Alex’s explanation of the examination procedure.

 “I’ll make arrangements with Dr. Park when you’re feeling up for it,” he finishes. I get the feeling that’s going to be never. The way my body works is as alien to me as it is to anyone else on the station and I’m not sure I want to know the result of a physical, let alone take one. I start to tell Alex that, but think better of it. Silence hangs on the other end of the line producing the kind of gravity specific to situations you don’t want to be in. Glass clicks against one of those gaudy, TranStar coasters. Alex sighs. “Morgan, listen. I know it’s been rough, but you’re doing great. I want you to know that.”

[arastiia]

Their fingers coil around siblings shoulder - in reassurance. The implications this day had to have been grim for both of them. ' - she's dead now, yeah? ' A momentary pause is had, prior to a chuckle passing through their lips. ' Happy fuckin' Mother's Day t' a deadass motherfucker - may she burn in hell. '

         – – ✦ Mother’s Day; keepsakes dealing with this topic gloomy, traumatizing at best. A date banned out of ever almanac, almost forgotten, almost disregarded & never pondered about. Yet active life in a world still so FOREIGN, remarkably ordinary & oddly peaceful, one was prone to find a reminder looming at every corner. Baring its teeth, sinking claws into tarnished back. Television, advertisement, mothers & daughters spotted on the street. – fragilely balanced psyche upset, the body doubling over phantom pain. Today, life again a drag. Ghostly talons of own mind’s weakest moments scratching over scarred skin, tearing at cursorily healed wounds only to open them again. – depression perhaps even there to toss struggling animus into the abyss. Unfit for work; isolation doing nothing to soothe the aggressive hammering of blackened heart, the panic evident in body’s unquenchable tremble. Meetings cancelled; self-pity, doubt & the ghastly shadows of a horrendeous foretime there to grant Kiryuin company (prospect of another day turned black). && thus … on this specific occasion noble butler had acted on own impulses, had CALLED the only one who would be capable of comprehending what state of terror young CEO was caught up in (once more).

           It was still hard to bear; the cross called tragedy, to live with sharp splinters of priorly worn broken crown laced into fecklessly throbbing heart; still hard to combat dawning memory of events meant to be blighted/crushed into fragments, into PIECES. Obliterate them; these events burnt into the back of your skull, into the curve beneath every rib, into the faux immaculacy of body’s skin. Eradicate it; DEVIL’s reflection grinning back when one starred into cracked mirrors. – some crescent cuts visible still even after six months, after twelve. No longer counting, merely letting days pass by. Melancholia a ravaging beast, feasting on heart, mind & soul more belligerent than former godrobe ever could. Yanking on sagging posture, tearing once pristine & perfect stature down to the right. Even with most of cartlage damage gone & fixed, even with joints’ function recovered a permanent, postural defect remained; grim reminder on the remnants gained from time spent in personal hell. Ah yes … out of thirteen long, long years; after martyrdom & way of grief, warrior remembered the month in captivity most vividly.

             ‘she is dead now,yeah?’

           Stare not altering, focus set on black-polished tombstone; quick reminder on false funeral briskly coming back to life. Not a glimpse of their crusade had been carried outside their own little universe. – new world’s media however keen to learn the exact reason for old CEO’s demise. Stories had therefore been spun, interviews given, funeral held. Indeed, a burial carried out by the help of a stolid cerimony; tomb containing nothing but an empty casket. && yet? Kiryuin had demanded to SEE it on this fateful day. To grant certitude. One reminder of many. – DEVIL slain. No leftovers there to be burnt or crushed. MOTHER dead. But never fully gone. Kept alive by own beating heart & the pathetic mess in the depth of fragmented animus, the cursed blood rushing through this body’s veins.

         “yeah.”

          Glare ashern, voice firm (dry nonetheless); lively blue gleam lacking whenever past came back to bite her. Hands balled in the pockets of donned trenchcoat, distinct brows leaving creases on otherwise smooth forehead. Lost in thoughts (all alone?), absent-minded. – sister’s company however an anchor, yet again a reason to perhaps find the strength to keep on fighting. To hold heavy head over the water for sibling could do it too, no? Could combat what haunted her, could rise up every morning & shoulder the grave weight of doubt, regret & lurid sins. Both oh so similar, plagued by demons, pain & problems. Beloved other an INSPIRATION nowadays, truly. – ‘may she burn in hell’; how absurd. Eternal fire was far too good for this former caprice of nature.

            “Dead and gone.”

           Prior touch had triggered flesh’s instinctual flinch, a twitch of left shoulder; not reaching sensual layers of pale complexion below. A dull weight, odd warmness prompted by the gripe of equally roughened palm. They shared the same pair of slender, maltreated hands. Battered by daily use; by sword & fist fights. Similarities that again bound them oh so nonchalantely. Irises wandered; a subtle drift to the side before attention was set back on engraved family name. HER NAME. – Ryuko an exception; not smitten, not shackled by the burden the title ‘KIRYUIN’ entailed. Blessed by features lacking the distinct/FORSAKEN sharpness inherited on the distaff side. No, sister CUT from maternal influence; MATOI. Debris of whatever formerly adored father had embodied after …. after  – jaw muscles tensed, pressure evoked by teeth painful enough to distract mind from its self-destructive drive; stop the brooding before clash between emotion & logic would break the heart in twain. Left fingers unclenched ere being drawn out coat’s pockets eventually. 

         remember;          circle broken. curse no more.

        Heard chuckle managed to yank warrior back to reality, solve the knots in aching stomach, allowed aspiration to continue, to function ever so effortlessly. Contact suddenly featuring a heaviness, no … WORTH not realized before. Nothing more than a gentle, barely felt squeeze on Ryuko’s behalf; a gesture of reassurance, seen as so little & yet meaning so much more. Both not fond of intimacy, both strangers to the mere phenomenon of gentleness. Behold, there was comfort found in the spontaneously tranquility between two supposed sisters somehow linked through blood & tragedy. Sedation evident in the way aforesaid left ascended, overbearing feeling of gratitude coercing lids to shut. – 

         remember;         focus on HER & HER only.

             When own tips established contact with sister’s back of provisionally bandaged hand (a fighter & a relentless one, truly.), mere ghosting of oh so reluctant digits; when fingers brushed over scratched open knuckles & rigid flesh, ANXIETY rose, almost commanding arm to withdraw. FOOL, such an inane gesture, imbecile belief that touch would be able to express anything but discomfort! Still; Kiryuin’s hand dwelled. All the more! Boldly entwining, for a second. For a moment. A minute. Maybe more. Oh, for as long as clamoring memory, as long as suppressed aversion, as long as annexed coping mechanisms allowed.

[batterymonster2021]

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/chirpy-burpy-cheap-sheep-father-ted-series-3-episode-2-dead-parrot/

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

Howdy Fargo ah okay good day you have Chris watching excellent for the competitors quality lad ha ha freely hey there Fargo benefit how’s the risk is quality when you give up on him this 12 months father well I put the complete annual eating allowance on him to win if he doesn’t win what that implies fiber well we is not going to have any heating however but it’s riskier stays as warm as a summer time heckler had been laughing come on instruct Chris he’s a champ talk about it’s a specified J and also you heard about this creature going around terrorizing sheep on the island no inform me extra giant is a Jaguar the vehicle recognize what to be reducing and that is all tooth enormous white teeth the sheriff is called as a kill get do good it is best a subject of time doesn’t get any Amoy she no mind she be nontoxic Oh youngsters yay so nevertheless it’s simplest a topic of time be really affordable the sheriff is called Duggal supply the album a leisure no come on Ted it’s remarkable I suppose men and women will soon give up paying attention to pop track and take heed to this kind of thing instead from what I hear within the charts in these days but i am now not sure if that is now not going down already what this is so excellent ok didn’t it we have obtained all forms of matters as if by means of magic i will create a giant crowd of invisible dots or take you on a commute into darkest Africa i will deliver you right into a spooky fortress on a stormy night hiya craggy Island broken condominium father technically talking father Fargo father can you come over here fast and absolutely Fargo what appears to be the youth I used to go out to will is some thing of a star go boil this is doing you very well you look terrible does not you do good all of it I failed to get so much sleep father I stored considering I heard this terrible howling noise good that’ll be the Beast what’s that there may be whatever terrible on the moors farther north we haven’t any more then there may be some thing horrible roaming the round the position where in general there can be extra father they consider it probably a style of massive fox dougas sorry hey it could not be Jack would you would see her someone could mistake him for a tremendous madcap take into account to wildering soar years father Jack could be very a lot plagued by the changing of the seasons for a brief at the same time a marvelous serenity enters his life and he’s as one with nature he is first-class when he’s within the mood Sonia’s last little bit longer I better go on make some tea Dugan I would turn off that file however it is off what do you mean Chris isn’t within the competition did the chump you ought to enter him all this talk of the beast has obtained to UM his now that’s right I took a image of him this morning nerves I imply Fargo it’s she he continually had an awfully artistic temperament father yeah Robin will not be a live performance penis is a she you I have no idea oh my god I mean while you compare it with what he looked like final yr two totally extraordinary sheep he’s off his food he is now not snoozing and he started took ball what am I going to do Fargo pull your self together Chris wants greater than he is ever wanted you come on I want to see him cargo that is an order take me to see Chris the sad sheep god dude you will have to have visible him he’s just a shadow of a sheep no longer surprised head if I was a sheep i would be watching my back correct now proper considering of the Beast this is largest for cats and it can be got a retractable legs so they are able to leap opportu better if you realize watch head it lights up at night time and the four ears bite them up for listening and the opposite two are style of back up right here the crows are as enormous as cooked and for some rationale is so some Indus worry of stamps mrs.Doyle was once telling me that has bought magnets on tails so they’re constituted of metallic it could attach itself to you and as a substitute of the notes it’s acquired 4 hours it’s a legend it would not exist right head the way in which as a Phantom of the Opera would not exist that was the Opera does not exist so i’m not going to get into this what does exist and what doesn’t exist debate once more okay but i’ll ought to insist you add these last two examples to the chart k Duggal no i’m extra involved about that i+ on Chris becoming king of the sheep i do not suppose it would win then no burping sheep has ever won us what about big Brendan in 1983 yeah anyway it is only a heating finances and seem what the weather information says just last yr’s climate information what that is this year I need to go and see if John and Mary would let me take my a reimbursement the next day to come I might go down with you see if they’ve obtained a different sound effects album quantity 5 reasonable sufficient I wager probably the most v-rod are on the within of his head I win a yawn it has a inexperienced leaf a chair to load a hand round and played a barrel hello Fargo and then he would not have any eyebrows at all except on Saturday you study from manners i will cellphone away the cake how do you love that huh whats up John hello silence fairly hi there Tiger McGuire very oh oh she’s mindful and her mother Wow it can be a room any one in the cupboard no father Mary Todd Mary I forgot you have been there proper I notion you heard your mother’s no I didn’t go to me mom in spite of everything i’m within the cabinet Mary what are you doing in there oh I understand it’s on account that of this beast of craggy Island factor I idea that Mary can be safer in the cupboard i am Errol show up welcome to you for father oh yeah percent of 20 includes i’ll get them love you keep in the cupboard John can i’ve a word ma’am hiya Mary no three days mechanics oh yeah i’m nice anyway i am sorry father a bets a raffle it’s just but when the girl would not have the operation she is not going to be under fetch water for her village i am sorry father if the pite failed to stay up for the percentages of prolong to twenty to one by reason of Chris’s anxious troubles anyway your cigarette thanks Ted they shouldn’t have the sound result out and we would as well simply go hi bye-bye then i am hoping you are convinced I shut up oh appear there is big Reed howdy enormous what are you eager about there Ted you must see the large critical look for your face I can’t see Crispin on this competition guru Ted it can be pointless even interested by it you are most effective wasting your time there’s nothing we are able to do about the trouble we simply have got to accept the actual fact and that’s that how about we carry Kris over right here for a while might be to alter your doing just right oh ho top notch exotic or some thing we could do failed to I say it at least India they’re just a 2nd in the past no no you didn’t you mentioned the unique opposite there used to be undoubtedly nothing we would do simply Ted you will have performed this to me earlier than I took the freedom of tape within the dialog simply have somewhat you’re most effective losing your time there’s nothing we can do the main issue I stand corrected ah serious now anyway i am still no longer certain about this now father do not fear more difficult but the subsequent time you see him he’ll be a new sheet if no longer with making me to a jumper and some chops i’m terribly sorry sir that used to be just a PI i’m terribly terribly sorry i will be off then k so and significantly it was one location he can also be certain peace and quiet I believe will probably be an insult to you if I conclude that sentence you’re a parity father sure we’re additionally try to get Chris into form for the competitors do you believe what are you company like a cup of tea father it is not she fellow i do not suppose they drink group has warmth oil now not until you have some distinctive sheet tea sure I do have some sheet tea in the kitchen rightful them provide them given some nothing okay so Godhead it is just about noon we have got to rise up this early question me accomplished Duggal we’ve obtained to get Chris from watching like this to watching like this it’s your father digit is he i am sorry we tried everything I went I think that I is I better take him residence aha ah gotcha did you what did you just did my exceptional so recognize what to assert father can i purchase you a drink to have fun alright mcdougal you mind Krister we get again and don’t let him get lost preserve an eye fixed on them and keep that front door closed ok Ted is the relaxation taking Shiva hi there did you see and you spark off gratefully over feeling your neck definitely located 33 that is how close once I must pay extra in these pix ever you can stack this the great baccarat seem at me eat yeah excellent sure that is like Duggal I discover that the front door is huge open oh it’s sure Ted as we are currently sheepish oh ah dude I advised you to hold the front door closed no simply maintain up their head how do we all know which option to go she’s like every wool bearing animals instinctively journey north but colder mr.Self so we have to go north which way is out I have no idea that you would be able to come from throughout us the Sioux Indians and the Arizona wilderness used to be able to pinpoint the specific place of Buffalo by gauging the position of the moon and putting their ears to the ground simply Ted perhaps the sound is coming from that stereo it’s Chris y’all right he’s high-quality he wants to realise it used to be simply something stereo placing from the tree i am home Dougal I suppose i am establishing to figure out what’s been occurring good it’s been an easy choice there may be one alpha no twin-off and alternatively than waste came with a speech and get on with the job of a recognized factor the winner who in these days has come compelled on this competitors to look who the winner is in the king of the sheep competition that we now have all come to in these days wondering who Andy will be to win the prize of king of the Sheep the winner of this year’s king of the Sheep competitors is up howdy what is the meaning of this this competition is a sham and a fraud and as sham how dare you there may be been a provides and rankings try and sabotage this excessive profile sheep competitors little puzzle are in this very room chines Reed and hood Hastings you higher have enjoyable the fact that opus hassle all I do I do you are the ones who regularly shatters of the so known as beast of tiny island continually within hearing distance of Krista sheep paragon of the champion and it was once you who used a copy of BBC sound results vol 5 to add approach to those pants will claim an influence of she could now not aid however be satisfied through the late-night time howlings of horrible monster Taipei and from way method approach work up pretty photo father Freddy has painted how dare you convey disgrace on this fella location or knock form and let me too difficult on them so you don’t know your identify brought do not be too rough on the malum they were quite simply pawns actual villain in this piece has yet to be published Fargo boils what yeah I acquired cool now it’s my deal with it was once you who used to be disenchanted on the bad odds Chris used to be receiving you who plan to govern those odds by way of sabotaging your own sheep after which staging a awesome healing on the day of the competition you who paid tremendous and hood to talk concerning the beast in front of Chris ah Oh James hi there there I didn’t depend on the shallowness of your accomplices who use their newfound wealth to purchase a fur coat and a crown and it was you who purchased the BBC sound effects document sixty four for the dramatic alterations you who gave the sheet to me realizing that may be a priest with an intuitive figuring out of sheep I might nurse him again to wellness you wish it can be now not true it is ordinary maintain the Panisse father no he’s lost the believe of his sheep that’s punishment adequate the farmer who deals chiefly to affordable excuse me there may be slightly of extension right here and i want some recent air one thing Ted if Chris has been disqualified does no longer mean you have misplaced the heating allowance money on the bed I realize it’s a thorough step Duggal but it is very very bloodless here three months then Ted certainly never go to the bathroom first

[airoasis]

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

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"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

Howdy Fargo ah okay good day you have Chris watching excellent for the competitors quality lad ha ha freely hey there Fargo benefit how’s the risk is quality when you give up on him this 12 months father well I put the complete annual eating allowance on him to win if he doesn’t win what that implies fiber well we is not going to have any heating however but it’s riskier stays as warm as a summer time heckler had been laughing come on instruct Chris he’s a champ talk about it’s a specified J and also you heard about this creature going around terrorizing sheep on the island no inform me extra giant is a Jaguar the vehicle recognize what to be reducing and that is all tooth enormous white teeth the sheriff is called as a kill get do good it is best a subject of time doesn’t get any Amoy she no mind she be nontoxic Oh youngsters yay so nevertheless it’s simplest a topic of time be really affordable the sheriff is called Duggal supply the album a leisure no come on Ted it’s remarkable I suppose men and women will soon give up paying attention to pop track and take heed to this kind of thing instead from what I hear within the charts in these days but i am now not sure if that is now not going down already what this is so excellent ok didn’t it we have obtained all forms of matters as if by means of magic i will create a giant crowd of invisible dots or take you on a commute into darkest Africa i will deliver you right into a spooky fortress on a stormy night hiya craggy Island broken condominium father technically talking father Fargo father can you come over here fast and absolutely Fargo what appears to be the youth I used to go out to will is some thing of a star go boil this is doing you very well you look terrible does not you do good all of it I failed to get so much sleep father I stored considering I heard this terrible howling noise good that’ll be the Beast what’s that there may be whatever terrible on the moors farther north we haven’t any more then there may be some thing horrible roaming the round the position where in general there can be extra father they consider it probably a style of massive fox dougas sorry hey it could not be Jack would you would see her someone could mistake him for a tremendous madcap take into account to wildering soar years father Jack could be very a lot plagued by the changing of the seasons for a brief at the same time a marvelous serenity enters his life and he’s as one with nature he is first-class when he’s within the mood Sonia’s last little bit longer I better go on make some tea Dugan I would turn off that file however it is off what do you mean Chris isn’t within the competition did the chump you ought to enter him all this talk of the beast has obtained to UM his now that’s right I took a image of him this morning nerves I imply Fargo it’s she he continually had an awfully artistic temperament father yeah Robin will not be a live performance penis is a she you I have no idea oh my god I mean while you compare it with what he looked like final yr two totally extraordinary sheep he’s off his food he is now not snoozing and he started took ball what am I going to do Fargo pull your self together Chris wants greater than he is ever wanted you come on I want to see him cargo that is an order take me to see Chris the sad sheep god dude you will have to have visible him he’s just a shadow of a sheep no longer surprised head if I was a sheep i would be watching my back correct now proper considering of the Beast this is largest for cats and it can be got a retractable legs so they are able to leap opportu better if you realize watch head it lights up at night time and the four ears bite them up for listening and the opposite two are style of back up right here the crows are as enormous as cooked and for some rationale is so some Indus worry of stamps mrs.Doyle was once telling me that has bought magnets on tails so they’re constituted of metallic it could attach itself to you and as a substitute of the notes it’s acquired 4 hours it’s a legend it would not exist right head the way in which as a Phantom of the Opera would not exist that was the Opera does not exist so i’m not going to get into this what does exist and what doesn’t exist debate once more okay but i’ll ought to insist you add these last two examples to the chart k Duggal no i’m extra involved about that i+ on Chris becoming king of the sheep i do not suppose it would win then no burping sheep has ever won us what about big Brendan in 1983 yeah anyway it is only a heating finances and seem what the weather information says just last yr’s climate information what that is this year I need to go and see if John and Mary would let me take my a reimbursement the next day to come I might go down with you see if they’ve obtained a different sound effects album quantity 5 reasonable sufficient I wager probably the most v-rod are on the within of his head I win a yawn it has a inexperienced leaf a chair to load a hand round and played a barrel hello Fargo and then he would not have any eyebrows at all except on Saturday you study from manners i will cellphone away the cake how do you love that huh whats up John hello silence fairly hi there Tiger McGuire very oh oh she’s mindful and her mother Wow it can be a room any one in the cupboard no father Mary Todd Mary I forgot you have been there proper I notion you heard your mother’s no I didn’t go to me mom in spite of everything i’m within the cabinet Mary what are you doing in there oh I understand it’s on account that of this beast of craggy Island factor I idea that Mary can be safer in the cupboard i am Errol show up welcome to you for father oh yeah percent of 20 includes i’ll get them love you keep in the cupboard John can i’ve a word ma’am hiya Mary no three days mechanics oh yeah i’m nice anyway i am sorry father a bets a raffle it’s just but when the girl would not have the operation she is not going to be under fetch water for her village i am sorry father if the pite failed to stay up for the percentages of prolong to twenty to one by reason of Chris’s anxious troubles anyway your cigarette thanks Ted they shouldn’t have the sound result out and we would as well simply go hi bye-bye then i am hoping you are convinced I shut up oh appear there is big Reed howdy enormous what are you eager about there Ted you must see the large critical look for your face I can’t see Crispin on this competition guru Ted it can be pointless even interested by it you are most effective wasting your time there’s nothing we are able to do about the trouble we simply have got to accept the actual fact and that’s that how about we carry Kris over right here for a while might be to alter your doing just right oh ho top notch exotic or some thing we could do failed to I say it at least India they’re just a 2nd in the past no no you didn’t you mentioned the unique opposite there used to be undoubtedly nothing we would do simply Ted you will have performed this to me earlier than I took the freedom of tape within the dialog simply have somewhat you’re most effective losing your time there’s nothing we can do the main issue I stand corrected ah serious now anyway i am still no longer certain about this now father do not fear more difficult but the subsequent time you see him he’ll be a new sheet if no longer with making me to a jumper and some chops i’m terribly sorry sir that used to be just a PI i’m terribly terribly sorry i will be off then k so and significantly it was one location he can also be certain peace and quiet I believe will probably be an insult to you if I conclude that sentence you’re a parity father sure we’re additionally try to get Chris into form for the competitors do you believe what are you company like a cup of tea father it is not she fellow i do not suppose they drink group has warmth oil now not until you have some distinctive sheet tea sure I do have some sheet tea in the kitchen rightful them provide them given some nothing okay so Godhead it is just about noon we have got to rise up this early question me accomplished Duggal we’ve obtained to get Chris from watching like this to watching like this it’s your father digit is he i am sorry we tried everything I went I think that I is I better take him residence aha ah gotcha did you what did you just did my exceptional so recognize what to assert father can i purchase you a drink to have fun alright mcdougal you mind Krister we get again and don’t let him get lost preserve an eye fixed on them and keep that front door closed ok Ted is the relaxation taking Shiva hi there did you see and you spark off gratefully over feeling your neck definitely located 33 that is how close once I must pay extra in these pix ever you can stack this the great baccarat seem at me eat yeah excellent sure that is like Duggal I discover that the front door is huge open oh it’s sure Ted as we are currently sheepish oh ah dude I advised you to hold the front door closed no simply maintain up their head how do we all know which option to go she’s like every wool bearing animals instinctively journey north but colder mr.Self so we have to go north which way is out I have no idea that you would be able to come from throughout us the Sioux Indians and the Arizona wilderness used to be able to pinpoint the specific place of Buffalo by gauging the position of the moon and putting their ears to the ground simply Ted perhaps the sound is coming from that stereo it’s Chris y’all right he’s high-quality he wants to realise it used to be simply something stereo placing from the tree i am home Dougal I suppose i am establishing to figure out what’s been occurring good it’s been an easy choice there may be one alpha no twin-off and alternatively than waste came with a speech and get on with the job of a recognized factor the winner who in these days has come compelled on this competitors to look who the winner is in the king of the sheep competition that we now have all come to in these days wondering who Andy will be to win the prize of king of the Sheep the winner of this year’s king of the Sheep competitors is up howdy what is the meaning of this this competition is a sham and a fraud and as sham how dare you there may be been a provides and rankings try and sabotage this excessive profile sheep competitors little puzzle are in this very room chines Reed and hood Hastings you higher have enjoyable the fact that opus hassle all I do I do you are the ones who regularly shatters of the so known as beast of tiny island continually within hearing distance of Krista sheep paragon of the champion and it was once you who used a copy of BBC sound results vol 5 to add approach to those pants will claim an influence of she could now not aid however be satisfied through the late-night time howlings of horrible monster Taipei and from way method approach work up pretty photo father Freddy has painted how dare you convey disgrace on this fella location or knock form and let me too difficult on them so you don’t know your identify brought do not be too rough on the malum they were quite simply pawns actual villain in this piece has yet to be published Fargo boils what yeah I acquired cool now it’s my deal with it was once you who used to be disenchanted on the bad odds Chris used to be receiving you who plan to govern those odds by way of sabotaging your own sheep after which staging a awesome healing on the day of the competition you who paid tremendous and hood to talk concerning the beast in front of Chris ah Oh James hi there there I didn’t depend on the shallowness of your accomplices who use their newfound wealth to purchase a fur coat and a crown and it was you who purchased the BBC sound effects document sixty four for the dramatic alterations you who gave the sheet to me realizing that may be a priest with an intuitive figuring out of sheep I might nurse him again to wellness you wish it can be now not true it is ordinary maintain the Panisse father no he’s lost the believe of his sheep that’s punishment adequate the farmer who deals chiefly to affordable excuse me there may be slightly of extension right here and i want some recent air one thing Ted if Chris has been disqualified does no longer mean you have misplaced the heating allowance money on the bed I realize it’s a thorough step Duggal but it is very very bloodless here three months then Ted certainly never go to the bathroom first