#c: victoria vega | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

diarioelpepazo · 1 year ago

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El campeón sobrevive a todo para ganar y Leclerc se queda sin triunfo; Sainz 6º y Alonso 9º. Victoria 18ª para Max, que se sobrepuso a una sanción, un choque y dos investigaciones. Los duros finales y un coche de seguridad inoportuno arruinaron al monegasco en Las Vegas. MARCO CANSECO En una carrera tan loca, como espectacular y entretenida, Max Verstappen se ha hecho con su triunfo más difícil del año en el Gran Premio de Las Vegas. Es su victoria 53 en la F1, con la que iguala a Vettel en muy poco tiempo y la 18º del año para el holandés, que pudo sobreponerse a una sanción de 5 segundos y dos investigaciones para doblegar a Charles Leclerc y a Checo Pérez.. El monegasco tuvo muy mala suerte, pues cuando lo tenía todo a favor, llegó un safety car con el que Checo se puso a su espalda y le adelantó en el último tercio de la carrera. Los neumñaticos duros no le funcionaron a Ferrari como los medios iniciales. Al final salvó el segundo tras una gran maniobra sobre Pérez en la última vuelta, pero Max ya tenía ventaja tras engancharse y pasar al Ferrari y a su compañero unas vueltas antes. Lo mereció más que nunca, pero se queda sin victoria en 2023, el día en el que nada jugó a su favor.. Remontada de Sainz y Alonso, tras el trompo inicial de ambos Carlos Sainz ha terminado sexto y Fernando Alonso noveno, tras una carrera muy torcida para ambos desde la salida. Allí, el asturiano no encontró agarre en la frenada y trompeó de forma dramática, tocándose con Bottas. Sainz también se daba la vuelta, tras tocarse con Hamilton. Todos intentaban evitar los choques. Tras reparar daños y volver 18º y 19º, ambos fueron juntos casi toda la carrera, con Sainz escalando a base de buenos adelantamientos y con Alonso aprovechando cada oportunidad a su estela. En el tramo final, el Aston Martin tuvo que ceder con el Mercedes de Hamilton. Una sanción final a Russell le daba el sexto al madrileño, que minimizaba daños tras un cúmulo de desgracias desde el viernes. Empatados a 200 puntos En el Mundial, Sainz es ahora cuarto, con 200 untos, los mismo que Fernando, pero sin victoria. Se jugarán el puesto en Abu Dabi la próxima semana, con permido de Lando Norris, que hoy abandonó tras estrellarse, pero que está a sólo 5 puntos de ambos. En la lucha de Ferrari, Carlos tiene 12 puntos sobre Leclerc a falta de una cita y también habrá morbo por ver quien de los dos pilotos de Maranello queda por delante en este largo Mundial. Para Fernando, el trompo inicial fue fatal, pues Stroll que partía por detrás de él, acabó quinto en su mejor carrera de toda la temporada. Tenía algo más el AMR23, pero la pasada de frenada lo decidió casi todos para el 14 en esta prueba. Es dificil ser perfecto durante 22 carreras seguidas. GP de Las Vegas 2023 1º M. Verstappen Red Bull 50/50 2º C. Leclerc Ferrari 3º S. Perez Red Bull 4º E. Ocon Alpine 5º L. Stroll Aston Martin 6º Carlos Sainz Ferrari 7º L. Hamilton Mercedes 8º G. Russell Mercedes 9º Fernando Alonso Aston Martin 10º O. Piastri McLaren 11º P. Gasly Alpine 12º A. Albon Williams 13º K. Magnussen Haas 14º D. Ricciardo AlphaTauri 15º G. Zhou Alfa Romeo 16º L Sargeant Williams 17º V. Bottas Alfa Romeo 18º Y. Tsunoda AlphaTauri Retirado 19º N. Hulkenberg Haas Retirado 20º L. Norris McLaren Retirado Salida: Trompo para Alonso y Sainz, Verstappen primero Alonso salió agresivo y trompeó en la curva 1, pues el agarre era mínimo con los medios y en frío. En la melé que se formó, Carlos también trompeó, tras tocarse con Hamilton, para evitar a los parados. Los coches no frenaban. Verstappen se colocaba primero, pese a irse largo también en la frenada, en una carrera de estrategia para alargar la vida de los neumáticos- Alonso y Checo entraron a reparar daños en un virtual safety car (vuelta 2/50) y Carlos se colocaba 16º. Accidente de Norris: safety car V4/50 Lando desllantó el McLaren tras chocar él solo con el muro, por el bajo agarre y acabó por la escapatoria. Carlos aprovechaba para detenerse en boxes y colocar el neumático duro y era 17º. Fernando estaba 18º.

Resalida (V7): Batalla Sainz Vs Alonso Max mantenía el primero sin problemas, mientras Alonso adelantaba atrñas a Carlos y el madrileño se la devolvía poco después. Bonita batalla. Carlos adelantaba a Checo, pero este se resistía, en la manobra, Fernando se para adelantar de nuevo al de Ferrari. Sanción de cinco segundos para Verstappen, por echar a Leclerc en la curva 1, por esto: Max seguía primero, pero debía ganar por más de 5 segundos para lograr la victoria. Adelantamiento de Sainz a Alonso (V11) Checo pasó a Stroll, Fernando no podía con su compañero y Carlos aprovechó luego para coger rebufo y rebasar al asturiano. Era una batalla por el 15º para los tres. Sainz pasaba a Ricciardo en la vuelta 13 y se colocaba 14º. Alonso pasaba al australiano en la vuelta 14 y se situaba tras Sainz de nuevo. Carlos seguía su cabalgada y pasaba a Zhou (V16) y era décimo y en los puntos Pasada de Leclerc a Verstappen con graining (V16) No esperaba y atacaba a Max para pasarlo sin problemas. Verstappen paraba en boxes y pagaba los 5 segundos, con lo que valía al 11º de forma momentánea. Sainz era sexto y Alonso séptimo, tras un choque de Hamilton con un bolardo. Locura de carrera. Leclerc a boxes (V22) y regresaba tercero tras Stroll y Checo. Sainz era cuarto de forma momentánea, mientras Alonso se peleaba con Russell por el quinto y era adelantado en la vuelta 22. Max llegaba por detrás para tomar el sexto a costa del español en la 23. Los duros de Alonso se venían abajo. Carlos era pasado por Russell y Verstappen en la vuelta 25. y el español era sexto, mientras Alonso era séptimo. Luego llegaba Gasly, a 4 segundos el asturiano. Choque de Verstappen con Russell (V25) y safety Saltaban las piezas del Mercedes en la curva 12. tras negarse a ser adelantado. Parecía culpa del inglés, pero era muy justo. A Russell le caían 5 segundos. Safety car, muy bueno para Sainz y Alonso. Resalida (V29), Alonso pasaba a Albon Buena circunstancia de Fernando para colocarse 11º, detrás de Caros 10º. Leclerc mantenía el primero, pero Piastri se colocaba tercero tras pasar a Gasly. Max pasaba a Gasly ((v32) y era cuarto, pero inverstigado por sus salida anterior en el pit lane Checo pasaba a Leclerfc y era primero (V32) Se torcía la victoria para el menegasco, muy perjudicado por el safety anterior y por unos dusros que ya no funcionaban tan bien como los medios para el SF-23. Verstappen llegaba por detrás tras pasar a Piastri y se avecinaba drama para Leclerc. Leclerc primero de nuevo Y Charles rebasaba de nuevo a Checo en la vuelta 35. para ser primero otra vez. Max pasaba al mexicano en la 36 y se iba a por el Ferari. Muy interesante. Y Verstappen a Leclerc para ser líder (V38) Max llegaba hecho una fiera por detrás y adelantaba al 16, que no se lo creía. Sainz noveno y Alonso décimo Pasaron a Albon en la velta 40 y subían a los puntos. Hamilton estaba detrás de ellos. Leclerc intentaba mantenerse a menos de un segundo de Verstappen, sin conseguirlo. Se pasaba de frenada en la vuelta 43 el monegasco y Checo era segundo de nuevo. Los duros se le habían ido al Ferrari. Y la parada de Piastri le daba a Sainz en octavo y a Fernando el noveno. Se iban cayendo los duros de golpe y todo cambiaba a cada vuelta. Hamilton pasaba a Alonso (V47) No pudo hacer nada contra el Mercedes y caía de nuevo al noveno. Max ganaba, seguido por Leclerc que adelantó a Checo en la vuelta final de forma magistral, Carlos era sexto y Alonso noveno, tras la sanción final a Russell (octavo). Para recibir en tu celular esta y otras informaciones, únete a nuestras redes sociales, síguenos en Instagram, Twitter y Facebook como @DiarioElPepazo El Pepazo/Marca

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juarezesdeporte · 1 year ago

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VALIOSO TRIUNFO EN CASA DEL LOCOMOTIVE

EL PASO, Texas – El Paso Locomotive FC (West-7, 12-13-8, 43 puntos) se recuperó contra Charleston Battery en una dramática victoria por 3-2 el sábado por la noche en Southwest University Park, sumando tres enormes puntos en su búsqueda de postemporada de 2023

Aunque Charleston abrió el partido con oportunidades más claras (incluido un intento de penal fallido negado por la madera), el mediocampista Petar Petrovic abriría el marcador para El Paso en el 33', regateando a su defensor para vencer al portero de Charleston, Trey Muse, en el primer palo.

El máximo goleador de Charleston, Augustine Williams, igualaría cinco minutos más tarde para igualar las cosas al final de la primera mitad. El Battery luego tomaría la delantera en el 71', poniendo a El Paso frente a una batalla cuesta arriba.

El Locomotora no se desanimó y cogió intensidad, decidido a conseguir los tres puntos. Minutos después de que Battery empatara, el delantero Emmanuel Sonupe golpearía el balón en la esquina inferior para nivelar a Locomotive y el mediocampista Eric Calvillo seguiría en el 84' para recuperar la ventaja.

El Paso aguantaría los minutos restantes para sumar tres enormes puntos, lanzando a Los Locos de regreso a la línea de playoffs y registrando su primera victoria en casa desde el 14 de junio, una victoria por 2-1 contra Las Vegas Lights FC (también una victoria de remontada). ).

Locomotive ahora enfrenta un rápido cambio el miércoles 4 de octubre contra San Diego Loyal SC, su último partido en casa de la temporada regular de 2023.

NOTAS DEL EQUIPO

Con su victoria de esta noche, El Paso rompió su racha de ocho juegos sin ganar en casa. Es la primera victoria en casa desde el 14 de junio contra Las Vegas Lights FC. Esta es la tercera victoria de Locomotive en la temporada.

El Paso ha acumulado puntos esta temporada contra los tres mejores equipos actuales de la Conferencia Este. (victoria 1-0 vs PIT, empate 1-1 vs TBR, victoria 3-2 vs CHS). En general esta temporada, El Paso tiene marca de 6-3-2 contra equipos del Este y 3-2-1 en casa.

Charleston es el último equipo de la Conferencia Este al que se enfrenta El Paso esta temporada. Locomotive cierra la temporada regular con tres partidos más contra oponentes de la conferencia.

El gol de la victoria de Eric Calvillo fue su tercer gol de la temporada. También registró su tercera asistencia de la campaña 2023 con su pase a Emmanuel Sonupe.

El gol de Emmanuel Sonupe es el segundo de la temporada 2023. Petar Petrovic marcó su séptimo gol de la temporada.

Denys Kostyshyn asistió a su cuarto gol del año, uniéndose a Marc Navarro como máximo asistente del club en la campaña.

El penalti fallado por Charleston fue la segunda vez consecutiva que un oponente no logró marcar un penalti contra Locomotive en partidos recientes. RESUMEN DE PUNTUACIÓN

ELP 1 - Petar Petrovic (Denys Kostyshyn) 33' CHS 1 - Agustín Williams (Fidel Barajas) 38' CHS 2 - Emilio Ycaza 71' ELP 2 - Emmanuel Sonupe (Eric Calvillo) 75' ELP 3 - Eric Calvillo 84' ALINEACIONES

ELP – (5-3-2) Benny Diaz, Marc Navarro, Erik McCue, Noah Dollenmayer, Petar Petrovic (Louis Herrera), Miles Lyons (Nick Hinds), Liam Rose, Eric Calvillo – C, Denys Kostyshyn (Chris García), Aarón Gómez (Emmanuel Sonupe), Petur Knudsen

Subs no utilizados: Javier García, José Carrillo, Yuma

CHS – (4-2-3-1) Trey Muse, Mark Segbers, Juan Sebastian Palma, Leland Archer – C, Derek Dodson, Chris Allan, Andrew Booth (Arturo Rodríguez), Tristan Trager (Pierre Reedy), Nick Markanich (Emilio Ycaza), Fidel Barajas, Agustín Williams (Beto Ávila)

Suplentes no utilizados: Daniel Kuzemka, AJ Cochran, Deklan Wynne

RESUMEN DE MALA CONDUCTA

ELP – Marc Navarro (Amarillo) 9', Petar Petrovic (Amarillo) 22', Noah Dollenmayer (Amarillo) 83', Liam Rose (Amarillo) 90+3' CHS-N/A ESTADÍSTICAS DEL PARTIDO: ELP | CHS

PRÓXIMO PARTIDO: Miércoles 4 de octubre vs San Diego Loyal SC. El inicio está programado para las 7 p.m. tiempo de la montaá en el Southwest University Park.

PROMOCIÓN: Sorteo de sudadera con capucha para los primeros 1,500 fanáticos con boletos que crucen las puertas. Las puertas se abren a las 6 p.m. MONTE.

BOLETOS: Compre en línea en eplocomotivefc.com/tickets, dentro de la aplicación móvil oficial, llamando al (915) 235-GOAL o enviando mensajes de texto al (915) 666-2005.

(Con información de Alberto Huichapa)

#local #Youtube

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rubyleaf · 4 years ago

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JELLIE: A BAND STORY – Spinoff: Katie joins a band

Yay, another spinoff about a character that’s not gonna appear in ages! But I figured out a lot of things about Jen’s troubled little sister Katie (a major player in later arcs) and how she ended up in a band despite all her resolve. Features heavy allusions to Katie’s aroace-ness and basically-stalking-someone-into-your-band behavior I would not condone in real life, even though it’s inspired by real-life events. (If anything, rather milder than said real-life events.)

Can be read as a standalone, but will probably make more sense if you’ve read this Katie spinoff first!

Tag list: @writer-in-monochrome, @alicewestwater, @mouwwie, @writingbyjillian (notify me to be added or removed!)

When Katie moves out for college, it feels like jumping out of a prison window straight into cold, deep water.

On one hand, she’s free now. Free from her parents’ expectations, free from the pressure to be perfect all the time, well-behaved, bringing home perfect grades. On the other, fulfilling those expectations has been her whole identity for so many years. If she can’t be the perfect daughter, the presentable child—who is she?

Katie doesn’t know. She doesn’t want to find out. So she keeps her head down; she works hard, studies hard, rarely socializes. It’s fine. She’s not lonely. She doesn’t need anything or anyone. It’s better to be alone of her own volition than to let people into her life and risk being abandoned.

That is, until her roommate teams up with her class project partner to blackmail her into joining them for a party.

“But I’m just here so you two do your parts of the work,” she insists as she peers into the dark, crowded room, already exhausted from the loud music and louder people. “Don’t make me do anything. I’m leaving again soon anyway.”

The two exchange a disappointed glance. “Come on,” says Rachel, her roommate. “It’s the weekend! It’s not like you have to get up early tomorrow or anything.”

“Yeah, and you should have some fun,” Lyra adds, her project partner who’s as competent as she is a social butterfly. “Maybe talk to some people? I could introduce you to some nice guys if—”

Panic flares through Katie’s whole body. “No, thank you.”

Lyra frowns. “Are you sure? You’ve never had a boyfriend, have you?”

“No,” Katie says firmly, “and I’m not looking for one.”

Which is true. For some reason she has never been interested in boys. Or girls, for that matter. It’s been years and she still doesn’t understand what the fuss is about.

“Okay,” Rachel says as she begins to withdraw into the crowd, “do whatever you want. But if you’re looking for people, feel free to find us!”

Katie makes a mental note to most definitely not do that.

Slipping away from the only people she knows here, she makes for the snack table, careful to put on her most aloof aura. Just like back in high school, it actually works. Katie knows how to avoid being spoken to by strangers, let alone hit on.

Just a few snacks, and then she’s going home. That’s it. That’s the plan.

At least until the sound of off-key singing carries over from next door.

Intrigued, Katie creeps closer. It sounds like a bunch of girls singing karaoke, messing around and having fun. Not really caring if they sound stupid or don’t hit the notes. Just enjoying themselves.

Much like…

Katie should get away, she knows. The last thing she needs right now are the memories, the old feelings. And most of all, in college she’s finally in a place where no one knows she’s the sister of Jennie Lin. She can’t afford to ruin that now.

But no one knows her here. These girls certainly won’t know her. She’s just here for tonight.

And deep down, no matter how much she tries to repress it, she misses singing more than ever.

Just one night. No names, no recognizing, no strings attached.

Pushing open the door, Katie slips into the room.

---

It’s a lot later than planned when Katie leaves the party, escaping the questions about her identity to stumble, breathless but satisfied, into the hallway outside.

This was fun, she has to admit. She has missed singing. More than that, she has missed singing with others, scary as it is to admit it. Even if she’s still not used to those others being strangers…or not nearly as musically gifted as her sister.

But maybe, just maybe, she could go for doing this more often.

“You’re not following your passion, are you?”

Katie gives a start. Wasn’t she alone in the hallway a second ago?

Spinning around, she finds herself face to face with a girl around her age. She feels like she might seen her before somewhere, but she can’t be sure; the most remarkable thing about this stranger is her height, making her stand taller than many boys. Brown eyes meet with hers, their droopy, heavy-lidded shape giving her a deceptively sleepy look, but Katie doesn’t miss the piercing intensity in her otherwise blank gaze.

“Do I know you?” Katie asks coolly.

The stranger ignores her question. “I’ve seen you sing,” she says, her voice deep for a girl and just as bluntly flat as her words. “You’re no amateur. You sing like a person with years of practice.”

Katie takes a step backwards. The strange girl’s words hit way too close to home, far too close for comfort. “It’s just a hobby,” she says. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“I’ve seen you in class.” The girl’s large dark eyes remain fixed on Katie, unblinking. “Engineering doesn’t suit you. You’re just doing this to make your parents happy, am I right?”

Katie wants to protest, wants to argue. But what is she supposed to say when she knows, deep down, that this stranger is telling the truth?

“I don’t see how that’s your business,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “Why do you care what a random stranger is doing with her life?”

“I have a band.”

Katie freezes.

“I play the guitar,” the girl says. “We still need a singer.”

Jen’s face flashes before her eyes, bright and happy without her.

“No,” she says firmly. “No!”

“You’d be perfect,” the girl insists. “Your talent’s wasted on engineering. You need to sing.”

The walls seem to close in.

“No!” Katie bursts out, her voice coming out louder than she intended. Backing away, she hits the wall, her eyes darting through the hallway in search of a way out. “I am not joining a band! Not now! Not ever!”

“But—”

“No,” she says again, turning to run away. “Good luck finding someone else. But I’m not the person you’re looking for!”

“Vicky Vega.”

Katie pauses mid-stride. “What?”

“My name,” says the girl, still sounding as unfazed as ever. “Victoria Vega. If you’re looking for me, in case you change your mind.”

Without mustering another response, Katie runs out of the building and writes off that encounter as a bizarre anecdote to shake her head at in the future.

---

What she doesn’t facture in is just how stubborn Vicky can be.

She has never noticed her in any of her classes before, but it seems the same isn’t true for Vicky. On Monday she is fully prepared for things to go back to normal when, in her very first class, a figure sits down beside her.

“This place is free, right?” Vicky asks when she’s already sitting. “I know you don’t have any friends here.”

Katie wonders if she has realized how rude she’s being. Judging by her tone, she apparently hasn’t.

“What are you doing here?” she asks in an undertone, glaring.

Vicky doesn’t bat an eye. “Joining you,” she says. “We’re in the same class. Might as well sit with you.”

Katie sighs. “I’m still not joining your band,” she replies. “So don’t get your hopes up.”

“Why not?”

What is this person, a child? Annoyance flares, but Katie expertly keeps it down. “I don’t have the time,” she replies, “and I don’t like bands anyway.”

“You sang a lot of band songs on Friday.”

Katie has no good response to that.

The same story repeats itself every time she has a class with Vicky. The girl follows her around like a lost duckling, sitting next to her in class, walking her from classroom to classroom. Katie can’t decide if she should be annoyed or creeped out or a mixture of both.

“How much longer are you planning to do this?” she asks on day four of the whole nonsense. “I already said no!”

Vicky looks unfazed. “I’ll leave you alone,” she says, “when you come to band practice with me.”

Katie takes a deep breath and lets it out again. Can’t show her anger. Can’t have any more outbursts like that night in the hallway. Conceal, don’t feel.

“This is blackmail,” she says. “I could report you for harassment if I wanted to.”

“Okay.”

Just that. Okay. Katie has no idea what to make of it.

She doesn’t report Vicky yet. Partly because she doesn’t want to stir up trouble or draw attention to herself…and partly because, for all her ignorance of boundaries, Victoria Vega doesn’t seem to have a malicious bone in her body.

---

It doesn’t stay limited to just classes. After another week or so, after an early afternoon class, Vicky suddenly produces a lunch box from her bag, opening it to reveal stir-fried noodles and vegetables.

“You haven’t eaten lunch yet,” she guesses—correctly, to Katie’s chagrin.

“Uh, thanks,” Katie says. “What gives you the idea?”

“You always skip lunch to study,” Vicky calls her out. “You need to eat. Here, no need to thank me.”

Katie blinks owlishly at the food, then up at Vicky. Then she narrows her eyes. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

Vicky doesn’t blink. “Maybe.”

“Then I can’t accept this.” Katie pushes the box away. “I’m not joining your band.”

Vicky ponders her words, then shrugs. “Eat it anyway,” she says. “You need it, you’re all bones.”

Feels a bit like a slightly overbearing grandmother, Katie muses.

In the end, she accepts the food.

---

After another week of ever-increasing pestering and favors, Katie has had enough.

“Seriously, stop it,” she snaps as Vicky sits down beside her on the grass in between classes. “I’m not an idiot. I know you only want me for my sister!”

Vicky looks so taken aback that Katie almost feels like an idiot for blurting it out. “Wait,” she asks, “who’s your sister?”

All color leaves Katie’s face. Oh great, now she’s talked herself into a pickle. She has always assumed Vicky would know already—why else should she be so hell-bent? But if she hasn’t—

“Never mind,” she mutters. “It’s not important—”

“Seriously, who?”

Katie looks up. Vicky’s calm, deep eyes are hard to read; but there’s a good-natured curiosity in them, as well as genuine confusion.

Katie sighs.

“Jennie Lin,” she mutters hastily, half swallowing the words. “From Voice in the Crowd.”

“Really?”

Looking up, Katie blinks in amazement. The confusion on Vicky’s face has multiplied exponentially, and it doesn’t look fake. “I didn’t realize you guys were related,” she says. “I thought you just had the same last name.”

Katie almost chokes on her coffee. It’s been some time since she has genuinely laughed; and now here she is, desperately muffling her laughter behind her hands.

“What?” Vicky asks. “My last name is Vega. I had three other Vegas in my high school class and people always asked me if we were related.” She pauses for a second, then adds, “They weren’t even Filipino.”

Katie can’t hide it anymore; she bursts out laughing.

“I feel you,” she says. “In my school we had two other girls named Lin. People always thought we were siblings or cousins.” She rolls her eyes. “Is it my fault I’m Taiwanese and Lin is the second-most popular last name in all of Taiwan?”

Vicky blinks. “Is it really?”

“It is. I checked once.”

Now it’s Vicky’s turn to crack a smile. She never seems to do that, Katie abruptly realizes; at least, she doesn’t seem to do it around her. She decides it suits her.

And suddenly it dawns on her how bizarre this situation is. Here she is, sitting with the very person who’s essentially stalking and blackmailing her into joining her band, laughing and joking around, almost like they’re…

Friends?

No, Katie decides. No attachments. She’s through with that.

Although, she has to admit, Vicky is kind of nice.

---

“I checked out Voice in the Crowd, by the way.”

It’s the next morning, and Katie’s heart clenches in her chest at Vicky’s greeting. A cold hand closes around her ribcage. This is it, her mind whispers. She is officially in her sister’s shadow again.

“What do you think?” she asks coolly. “Jen’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Vicky eyes her closely for a moment, then she replies, “I like your voice better.”

Katie’s eyes grow round. Different emotions war within her: a glimmer of joy, anger on Jen’s behalf, and plain disbelief.

“Now,” she says, “you’re lying.”

Blinking owlishly, Vicky frowns back at her in obvious confusion. “I’m not.”

“I know I’m not better,” Katie snaps, at the same time feeling a little bad for doubting Vicky’s honesty like this. “So stop flattering me. It’s not going to make me change my mind.”

She tilts her head, and a few strands of hair—dyed black for college to look less like Jen—fall into her eyes, obscuring Vicky from view. She doesn’t bother brushing them away.

“You have a higher voice.”

She pauses.

“And raspier,” Vicky continues, her voice as matter-of-fact as ever. “It’s made for a darker sound. So I think your voice works better with the music we’re trying to make.”

Vicky isn’t saying her voice is objectively better than Jen’s; that really would be a lie. She isn’t saying it’s worse either. She is saying it’s different, simple as that, and better suited to one particular situation.

Suddenly she wants to know the sound of this band she’s supposed to work so well with.

But…no. She can’t do that. She’s walking her own path now, not trying to follow in Jen’s footsteps.

Besides, she’s the only daughter her parents have any hopes for now.

And that means she can’t disappoint them.

---

Of course the one time Katie’s late for class is the time a creep shows up.

It’s obvious from the moment he sits down next to her—in Vicky’s seat, she thinks with indignance—way too close for comfort. His eyes are glued to her form, unblinking, staring much too intensely as he says, “Hi!”

Katie inches subtly away from him. “Hello.”

“I finally get to talk to you,” he says. “You’re always with that other girl, the ugly one.” Katie’s eye twitches, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Don’t see what you see in her, you’re way prettier.”

Setting her jaw, Katie tries her best to remain coolly polite. “Vicky’s my friend,” she says firmly and instantly feels strange to admit it out loud. “And I don’t think she’s ugly.”

“Really? C’mon, be honest, she looks like a dude.” The guy laughs. Katie doesn’t. “And she always sticks to you like superglue.”

“I let her,” Katie replies.

“Yeah, duh. I’m just saying you should raise your standards.” The guy gestures loosely. “Hang out with some hot people. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” Katie says truthfully. She knows it would be better to lie, but she simply can’t bring herself to even pretend to be in a relationship. The very idea creeps her out to the core.

“Whew, lucky!” he replies. “Lemme guess: Your parents didn’t let you have one in high school? Sounds like the only reason a hottie like you would be single.”

Katie stares blankly at the window, wondering how much more obvious she has to be about not being interested.

The guy leans closer, his stare further intensifying. “Would you like to get some experience?” he says. “Make up for what you missed? I could teach you, if you know what I mean.”

A shiver runs down Katie’s spine. “Um…no, thank you,” she says.

He doesn’t back off. He doesn’t even get the hint. “Why not?” he replies. “Don’t worry, your parents will never find out!”

Katie’s eye twitches. “I’m not worried about them,” she says. “I’m not interested in dating.”

“What? Hey, that’s just what they tried to make you think.” He scoffs. “You just need to try it and then you’re gonna love it—”

“Excuse me.”

Katie’s entire body relaxes on the spot. Vicky. Finally.

“That’s my seat you’re sitting in,” she says, staring darkly at the guy next to Katie. “Move.”

Turning around, their classmate snorts. “Hey, I was just talking to your little friend here,” he says. “Why’re you so scared? It’s not like I’m gonna eat her.”

Katie makes no comment. Vicky crosses her arms, unfazed, unimpressed.

“She’s not into you,” she says flatly. “Leave her alone.”

“Or what, you’ll kick my ass?” He laughs. “She likes me better than your ugly mug anyway. Right, Katie?”

Katie smiles mirthlessly. “No.”

“Hey, what’s that about? We were having a great conversation—”

Vicky doesn’t let him finish. Grabbing him by the collar, she yanks him to his feet. Even when he’s standing, she’s still several inches taller.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Vicky says quietly, an unsubtle threat in her voice. “Back off.”

Glaring, the guy assesses his chances against her before acknowledging his defeat and grabbing his belongings, muttering something about an overprotective bitch.

Sighing with relief, Katie smiles as Vicky sits down beside her, calmly staying close to protect her from any further attempts. “Thank you,” she says. “You came in at the right time.”

Vicky cracks a slight smile. “You’re welcome.”

“But…I’m not supposed to join your band now, right?” Katie looks down. “As a thank you…or something.”

“I didn’t do this to win you over.”

There they are again, those dark, ever-stoic eyes resting heavily on hers. “It’s just basic decency,” Vicky says. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Deep inside Katie’s heart, something changes, or maybe she understands it at last.

What has she been doing? She has effectively been stringing Vicky along for all this time, being distrustful and wary and straight-up rude for no reason except her own unresolved issues. And Vicky Vega is still here. She still has her back, without ever calling her out on her nonsense, without comparing her to her sister or asking for any favors.

I’ve been a terrible friend.

Vicky deserves better than this attitude. Vicky has done so much for her; she deserves something nice in return.

And besides, a voice within her whispers, if it’s with someone like Vicky…maybe even in a band might not be so bad.

---

Katie’s hands are shaking slightly as she steps up to the door of the old storage room the band uses to practice. Part of her brain is still screaming to abort mission before she gets sucked into something beyond her control, the very something she has tried to avoid for so many years.

Then Vicky glances at her, her expression silently questioning. Katie swallows. Smiles.

And nods her okay.

Vicky opens the door and steps inside. “Hey, everyone,” she says. “Sorry I’m late. I brought us a singer.”

And before the bandmates can express their surprise or confusion, Katie follows her into the room.

“Hello, everybody,” she says, still trying to smile. “I’m Katie Lin, and I’m auditioning to be the vocalist.”

#those who know my fave band know my main source of inspiration for like three (3) different bands in this story #writeblr #writing #wtwcommunity #character study #jellie: a band story #c: katie lin #c: victoria vega #me and my writings

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yourgirlsarchived · 3 years ago

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base character tags s - z

#c. samuel thomas #c. seraphina ilyaova #c. sorcha aibhilin victoria #c. steven cian #c. sura (paragon)#c. sylvia jae kyung #c. esteban | tezcatlipoca #c. theodore | thanatos #c. cora jane | the corsair #c. john christopher | the doctor #c. khaalida vega | the moment #c. thena #c. wanda django #c. yekaterina mariyaicha

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nightingaelic · 3 years ago

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New vegas companions react to a courier with angel wings? Like they were born looking like an angel but only the wings part

(Vulpes, Ulysses, Joshua included)

"Victoriae," the Legionaries called them under their breaths, but it wasn't clear whether that was their name or a Latin title. It also wasn't clear whether the word was meant to be encouragement for Caesar's troops or a warning. After all, the courier was an unknown quantity in the Mojave, an arrow thought splintered in the dust of Goodsprings that now shot straight through the heart of New Vegas' political factions. That alone would have been enough to give the NCR, the Strip, and Caesar's Legion pause, but the stories that surrounded their advance were strange and miraculous. Left for dead, yet risen from the grave. Savior of the common people, from Sloan to Searchlight. And most intriguing, a winged shadow that cut through the desert sun with all the fury of a gathering radstorm.

Arcade Gannon: The Legion's moniker for the courier that had shaken up the region annoyed Arcade to no end. "Mercury is right there," he would complain, to anyone in the Old Mormon Fort that brought up the subject. "God of commerce, messages, travelers, communication... I get why they went with Victoria, since she has wings on her back and Mercury only has them on his shoes and hat, but come on."

As for the wings themselves, Arcade didn't doubt their existence, only their authenticity. He'd watched Doctor Usanagi install all manner of custom implants on patients in her clinic, and he'd seen power armor suits that incorporated jet packs into their frames. The courier probably had some kind of pre-war tech installation that allowed them to fly and gave them the appearance of a Roman deity, simple as that.

So when the courier finally touched down in Freeside for a check-up, Arcade was first in line to examine them and their unusual mode of transportation. He tried to play it off professionally, of course. Under cover of one of the tents, he stretched a wing out as far as it would go and ran a tape measure from joint to tip. "Just over nine feet," he muttered, marking it down on his clipboard.

"Watch the primaries," the courier said, arms crossed. "If I lose even one feather, I'll have to compensate pretty severely while it regrows."

Arcade nodded. Biological cohesion, then, not machinery. He moved up to the joint at the courier's shoulder blade and flexed it gently. To his surprise, there was no seam, no obvious mark of incision or stitching left over from implantation. He paused, unsure, and the courier turned their head. "Something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine," Arcade said quickly. "I just... how did you...?"

The courier grinned. "It's okay. Everyone wants to know. I'm a little fuzzy on the details... bullet to the head and all that, but the short answer is some very specific FEV experimentation."

"Right, but who would even have the resources or think to-"

"Ever hear of the Enclave?"

Arcade froze. "Oh. I'm... oh."

Craig Boone: Boone didn't believe the stories he heard from the caravans that came through after the courier's supposed resurrection, but he was glad of them nevertheless. Any tale that could make the hair on the back of Caesar's neck stand up was a good one, as far as he was concerned. Imagine his surprise when he spotted the courier winging their way to Novac through his scope one night, roughly as described by Ada Straus and company: Wingspan as wide as three NCR troopers laid head to toe, soaring like any other desert hawk with the moon at their back.

The courier spotted him, too, and before Boone knew it, they'd chosen Dinky's toothy mouth as a perch and folded every feather up on their back, neat as you please. "Thanks for not firing on me," they said, glancing at his rifle. "Most folks can't resist the temptation."

Boone nodded. "If you normally fly that low, I'm not surprised. Most people with my skills are happy to practice on birds."

"I'm familiar," the courier said bitterly. "I'm only flying low tonight because I'm looking for someone. Fancy fuck, checkered coat, Khan lackeys. Supposedly they came this way."

Boone shook his head. "Can't say I've seen them. Then again, I'm not keeping an eye out for anyone like that."

The courier raised an eyebrow. "Who are you looking for? Wait, wait- your beret. You're hunting Legionaries?"

"Maybe I am." Boone frowned. "Maybe I'm not inclined to say. Maybe I've heard they have a name for you, in Caesar's camp."

"Ugh." The courier rolled their eyes. "What is it, angelus victoriae? I think that's what that vexillarius said... anyway, I didn't get to pick it, but trust me, I'm not the symbol of victory they've painted me to be. I got shot in the head, for a start, and I've found no friends among the Legion since I recovered from that particular mishap. I left Nipton and their top coyote in somewhat of a state."

Boone's expression hardened. "Vulpes?"

"I think so. He's dead, but so is the rest of the town."

"Bastards." Boone resumed his sniping position. "You'd better go. Talk to Manny in the motel about who you're looking for. He's a friend."

Lily Bowen: The rest of the Mojave might have treated the courier as some kind of divine being, but Lily was not so easily converted. The moment they arrived in Jacobstown, her exclamation of delight became their new nickname among the friendly mutants.

"No, it's fun, I like it," they assured Doc Henry when he politely asked if they'd prefer to go by a different name. "I've just been going by 'Courier Six' since I woke up in Goodsprings. 'Goose' is a perfectly good alternative."

Calamity shook her head at the nightkin that towered over the courier. "You couldn't come up with a more deadly bird than a goose, Lily? Like an eagle, or an osprey, or even a shrike?"

"There is nothing wrong with geese, dearie," Lily said patiently. "They are fierce birdies in their own right. Oh, how Grandma would like to see a gaggle of them protecting her flock while she's away."

It wasn't anything but wishful thinking for the nightkin, but the courier took it to heart. Their deliveries took them outside the Mojave and all over the West Coast on a regular basis, and there were still pre-war ghouls and super mutants around that knew what a goose was and where one might find some. Three little orphaned goslings with patchy down came from up in the Annex Nation, which Lily lovingly dubbed "the Canadian sisters." One sassy snow goose with a bent leg found its way to Jacobstown via a Midwest caravan, and it successfully joined the steadily-growing flock. A pair of bald Chinese geese from a traveling show down in Mexico came up through Raul's channels for their well-earned retirement in the mountains, and Lily happily knitted each one a sweater for the colder nights. The courier even returned one day from a sojourn in the Big Empty with a mechanical model named GAN-Der that Doctor 0 had whipped up upon seeing their own knit sweater, which proudly displayed the word GOOSE.

Each new addition to her flock left Lily with a bigger and bigger smile, but she was still careful when hugging the courier so as not to chafe their wings. "They're lucky to have you, Lily," the courier said, squashed beneath her affections.

"Grandma is lucky to have you, Goose," she always said back.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "I don't get it," Raul said, the moment he'd managed to swallow all of his fear when the legend themselves broke in his cell door on Black Mountain. "You're a courier? For the Mojave Express?"

The courier shrugged, a movement that traveled from their shoulders all the way up to the bend where their wings were folded. "Sure. It's a living."

Raul eyed the feathered arches with some misgiving. "I've been around a long time, courier, and I've never heard of a Mojave Express runner that gets around the same way un águila real does. Something tells me you haven't been in the business long."

"You got me." The courier smiled. "I've been... in the business, as you say, for a while, but on a much more exclusive, hush-hush contract. The delivery for House was my first for the Mojave Express. I'm shocked I wasn't fired."

"Eh, desperate times." Raul gestured at the wasteland outside. "There aren't many who would trade their peace for a job that takes you into zonas de guerra on a regular basis. Fewer still who could fly right over the mess, if they like."

"It's pretty useful, I'll give you that," the courier admitted. "But if the package is more than a third of my weight, I'm out of luck. There's only so much I can carry before lifting off becomes impossible, and that's saying nothing of weather conditions, wind speed, nearby raiders with missile launchers... you get the idea."

Raul's eyes went to the scar on their forehead. "Sí. A bullet is a bullet, even if you don't have wings. I appreciate the risks you took breaking me out of here, then. So... since the door's open and all... can I go now?"

The courier finally realized they were blocking the exit and jumped aside quickly. "Oh! Oh, sorry, yes. Yes, of course. I know I come off a little intimidating, but I'm so bad at noticing when... never mind."

"Alrighty then." Raul gave them a little salute, then put on a mournful face. "I'll just head out. Alone. By myself. Into the dangerous wastes."

The courier smiled. "What, were you looking for some company?"

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was, predictably, drunk the first time she ran into the fabled courier in the flesh. They were sulking on the roof of the Mojave outpost's bar in Ghost's usual spot when she staggered up the stairs, intent on offering the lookout with the scary name a drink. Instead, she theatrically stopped dead in her tracks to take in the impossible sight before her.

"Pinesì," she murmured.

The courier turned from watching the distant lights of New Vegas to look at her. "Come again?" they asked, over the curve of their enormous wings.

Cass played it cool. "Nothing. Just... looking for a good story, and something tells me you've got plenty. Why you hiding up here?"

"Not feeling all the attention, tonight." The courier stretched a wing out, close enough to Cass that she could've reached a hand out to touch it. She resisted the temptation, but just barely. God, they looked soft enough to wrap up in, like a blanket or something.

Instead, Cass plunked herself down on an available crate and popped open the bottle she'd planned to gift to Ghost. "Suit yourself. If you're looking for something to take your mind off things, there's no better distraction than a bottle of liquor."

"Oh, I, um..." The courier cast their eyes down sheepishly. "I don't like to drink. Just in case of... accidents."

"No kidding?" Cass grinned. "Not the type to dive off of rooftops during a wild night? You might even be able to avoid the ground, unlike a lot of the hooligans downstairs."

"I've had my fair share of spills," the courier admitted with a chuckle.

"Swell." Cass toasted them, then took a swig. "To the bruises that taught us something, in that case. And a big 'fuck you' to the ones that didn't."

The courier grinned. "Come here often, caravanner?"

Cass sighed. "At the moment, I can be found precisely nowhere else. I'm liable to die at this outpost, if I'm not careful. I'd give every NCR dollar that I've ever earned to sprout wings like yours and fly away."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica had certainly heard the stories about the courier, but she leaned more toward the side of skepticism with the rest of her brothers and sisters. They led sheltered lives in their bunker, certainly, but stories of a winged courier were far-fetched enough to elicit eye rolls and chuckles among the gathered soldiers. It certainly made things interesting when discussing the divisive figure with other members of the Brotherhood of Steel, who were already fed up with the Legion's appropriation of terms that denoted importance in the bunker. After the courier's rise in the Mojave, greetings of "Ad victoriam" became less and less frequent among the Knights. Veronica found herself wondering whether it was truly their annoyance that made them abstain from using the term "victoriae," or whether they were afraid to summon the one it now referred to.

All of her hesitation disappeared when the courier trudged into the 188 Trading Post, though, and Veronica practically threw herself in their path to pepper them with questions and get a good glance at the bedraggled wings on their back. They were huge, each nearly twice as long as she was tall, if she had to guess, and they looked as beat up and sad as the courier's face.

Veronica abandoned her initial questioning. "No offense, but you look like you've traveled a long way down some bad roads. Er, air currents? Thermals? Jet streams? How high can you get with those fancy appendages, anyway?"

"Not high enough, apparently," the courier mumbled, before shaking the dust out of their hair and feathers. "Ran into some NCR troopers with glory in their eyes just north of Boulder City, and I had to fly straight into a dust devil to lose them properly."

"You poor thing," Veronica said mournfully. "Take my advice: Go order a drink from Michelle or her dad at the Slop & Shop, then go hang out with the Forecaster under the overpass. You're liable to get more questions from far less friendly individuals than myself, walking around the main market with those beauties on your back."

"Thanks." The courier gave her a faint smile. "What's your name?"

"Veronica."

"Well, lead the way then, Veronica. I could use a drink."

ED-E: As soon as it rebooted in the Mojave Express office in Primm, the eyebot became the courier's most trusted companion. Never mind what crowds might gather when they touched down in a small town, the inevitable questions and accusations and demands that followed- here was a little robot that could soar off into the sky just as easily as them, carry supplies that they previously would have had to agonizingly prioritize, attack enemies from a distance, and do it all with no more than a happy beep and a long-dead company jingle. The courier was even overjoyed when ED-E revealed its secret origins, the Enclave lab on the East Coast that had released it into the wasteland to search for a doomed Navarro.

"You're just like me," the courier whispered to the eyebot, holding it close and rocketing upward on a desert thermal that left them hanging level with the Mescal Range. "The scientists turned us loose, and we flew away forever."

ED-E wasn't sure about all of that, based on what little it knew of the courier's own mysterious past, but zipping through the desert air under the shadow of their wings left a peculiar feeling in its circuitry. It began to wonder if the pre-war signage in the Mojave that proclaimed the importance of freedom had missed the definition of the word entirely.

Whatever the circumstances, ED-E couldn't deny that its presence seemed to calm them, seemed to lift their heart in the same way they had lifted the eyebot from its corner on the floor of Johnson Nash's home and shop. "Higher!" they would call out as they navigated the Rocky Mountains. "Come on, ED-E, you can do it!"

And ED-E did. Happily, if it could be said to feel happiness.

Rex: Rex couldn't fly, but he had chased birds in his younger days, when the Denver Police Department was no more and there was nothing better to do among the ruins of civilization. As such, he struggled to his feet when the courier first arrived in the King's School of Impersonation, stretching their wings lightly so as not to knock over a chair in the performance space.

He whuffed softly, drawing the King's attention to the person who had just walked in. The King turned in his chair, and his face lit up like a stage light, in a way that Rex hadn't seen since the NCR had permanently moved to town. "Well, I'll be a mirelurk's uncle. You're like something out of a myth, courier."

The courier snorted in amusement. "Thank you, but apparently that's not enough to get you into the Strip, these days. I'm not keen on getting shot down by a hundred angry Securitrons, so I thought I'd see if you had any work that needs doing and earn my way inside."

Rex trotted forward to inspect their wings. The courier held them still while he sniffed up and down the longest feathers, the ones that nearly dragged on the floor behind them when they walked. He sneezed once, twice, then whined and stared up at them.

The King chuckled. "He's a little confused by you, I think. Truthfully, I can say the same. What's a creature like you doing in my school, looking for odd jobs when you should be out riding the highest heights New Vegas has to offer? There must be crowds of folk itching to empty their pockets for you, in these parts. You're a regular old novelty attraction."

"That's what I'm trying to avoid," the courier answered flatly. "And if your work happens to lean heavily on my 'novelty,' then we're gonna have a problem."

"Whoa, now." The King held his hands up. "I meant no offense. There are one or two things I can think of, off the top of my head. And old Rexie here might be in need of your help, himself."

Joshua Graham: "The prophet tells us that the only angels who minister to the earth are of our own number," Daniel said, when he came calling with stories of a winged figure wheeling above the sandstone cliffs where a caravan had recently fallen. "Whoever they are, they are one of us."

"One of us." Graham looked at his hands, wreathed in bandages. In the later daylight hours of Zion, he could sometimes catch the sunlight dancing on them in a way that made sense, for all the agony he lived with. Any being that survived this world, persisted in it after being raised to sit next to God, could only be motivated by a deep and enduring love- or a gnawing, inexorable pain. That much, Graham could understand. He still frowned at Daniel impatiently. "The prophet also said that angels don't have wings."

When the courier finally alighted in the Dead Horses' canyon camp, no one dared point a weapon at them. No one barred their entry to the cave. It bore their name, after all. And Graham, only momentarily dazzled by their appearance, discovered that they were indeed of the earth when they simply asked for directions and assistance laying their travel companions to rest. He gave them what they sought, gladly, and he gave them the sad story of the Sorrows, the White Legs and Zion itself. Graham was unsurprised when they offered to help, but he startled himself when his heart leapt into his throat as they turned and left, baring their wings to him. He tore through his scattered religious texts when he was certain they had departed, searching for any kind of guidance he could find. Resurrected personages, having bodies of flesh and bones.

The next time they met, he offered his hand to shake, a gesture of satisfaction. They took it. Their skin was warm against his clean wrappings, and the Burned Man's suspicions quieted. He and they shared a history of earthly transition, but not of divinity.

"I know who you are," the courier said to him, when their final decision to flee or fight lay before them. "But you don't look at me the same way Caesar did. To him, I was a symbol, but you... you see me as a person."

Graham inclined his head. "An effort learned from a previous life. It does me no good, to make the same mistakes twice."

Ulysses: Ulysses had known of the courier's wings, even when they were still hidden from the greater world and working for different masters. He'd always assumed their fleetness was more metaphorical than literal: Metaphor, after all, was a familiar friend, learned from his own history and the man the Legion followed. It wasn't until the courier crested the pass between the mountains, until they stretched out great, heaving pinions on either side of them, that he understood the force that had toppled the Divide and woken the dangers of the earth. It gave him momentary pause, but in the end it didn't matter whether the Divide's doom had come like a bolt of lightning from the sky or from a dusty set of footprints. It had burned all the same.

And yet, the courier surprised him further. They walked. The entire distance, the long road, the barren rubble of a nation he'd loved and would have made nameless bargains to see restored, all beneath the ragged boots of the one who'd brought it down to begin with. He could tell it pained them, could see the blisters and scrapes they sustained with each advance, the tears on their cheeks after each deathclaw and tunneler attack, but not once did they lift their wings to save themselves. It might not have done them much good in the Cave of the Abaddon, but it would've gotten them out of several skirmishes with marked men. The only time their feathers unfurled was when they wrapped themselves up before their evening campfire and sang. The music on their lips was quiet, in a language Ulysses did not know, but even he could tell that it was full of sorrow.

When they finally stood before him in his temple, the room he had chosen as their first and final meeting place, he couldn't help but ask. "I told you to go home, courier. Would've made the trip better than most. Didn't once let your feet leave your road. Why... persist?"

They drew themselves up to their full height, splayed each of their wings out for the first time since entering the Divide. "Because I know what I did. I didn't come here with illusions, courier. Even before you came calling, I'd already decided I would answer."

Ulysses smiled coldly under his mask. "Even now, when you face your end, you think to gift me with a message. No, courier. You are, and have always been, the message. The Legion may name you 'victory,' but I have already seen the carelessness that victory brings."

Vulpes Inculta: "Victoriae," Caesar demanded, in his next meeting with the leader of the Frumentarii, and Vulpes Inculta obeyed. His network of spies across the Mojave and beyond relished the task, brought him every scrap of information they could find from Arroyo to Two Sun, Rattletail to New Canaan. Most of it was shit, but Vulpes sifted through each account, anyway. A tribe of devils that exited a vault in Idaho, all with wings like the courier's. A prototype, pre-war construction rig, designed to let its operator repair machinery well above street level without worry of a fall. Even one rumor of a cult in the mountains that caged the East Coast, dedicated to human sacrifice and a giant moth. He sent a Frumentarius after each of the more promising leads. They either came back empty-handed, or they didn't come back at all.

Vulpes abandoned his search and took a more direct approach. He waited until the courier was approaching the NCR's Mojave outpost before unleashing Caesar's fury upon the town of Nipton, certain the western nation would be stretched too thin to investigate themselves and instead send an expendable mercenary when the smoke began to rise. Sure enough, the courier was drawn in by the promise of a payout, and Vulpes watched them eagerly as they floated down to touch the scorched sand of the profligate settlement. His men were shaken by their appearance, but he stepped forward to greet them as he would any traveler that happened upon the Legion's good work. "Don't worry," he called to them, "I won't have you lashed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates. Particularly because your appearance is considered somewhat sacred to our troops, as an omen of good fortune for Caesar's cause."

The courier smirked and folded their wings. "An omen? None of you know me. I could bring about the Legion's downfall, or I could be simply another caravanner on the road to New Vegas."

Vulpes gave them a thin smile in return. "If you were any other caravanner, you would have given this town a wide berth and continued on your way. As it is, I wonder if your curiosity brought you here more than the NCR's dollars."

"You got me." The courier crossed their arms. "I hear you have a name for me. Say it."

Vulpes smile widened. "Victoriae, courier. It rests on the lips of Legionaries, as a prayer."

"Good." The wings shot out again with a crack, and the courier looked Vulpes straight in the eye before taking off. "I'll be sure and tell the NCR that they're absolutely fucked."

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #fnv companions #fnv companions react #fallout new vegas companions #fallout new vegas companions react #once again joshua graham is sending me places #but coming in clutch is vulpes which is a real surprise

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mjfass · 3 years ago

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More fantasy booking? There's going to be Evolution pt2! And you're entirely in charge. Who's on the card? Theme song? Would it have a different name? Any returns? Everything!

Evolution II.

Theme song: Gloves Up by Little Mix.

Card:

Bianca Belair vs Io Shirai. Io Shirai wins

Melina vs Naomi. Naomi wins.

Cora Jade vs Nikkita Lyons in the final of the Mae Young Classic. Cora Jade wins.

Candice LeRae vs Mandy Rose vs Alexa Bliss for the NXT Women’s Championship. Candice LeRae wins.

Charlotte Flair vs Victoria. Victoria wins.

Battle Royal to win a championship opportunity (for any championship): Liv Morgan wins.

Zelina Vega and Carmella vs LayCool. LayCool wins.

Bella Twins vs Jacy Jayne and Gigi Dolin vs Asuka and a mystery partner… Kairi Sane. In a unification match for the Women’s Tag Team Championships. Kabuki Warriors win.

Beth Phoenix vs Natalya. Beth Phoenix wins.

Ronda Rousey vs Becky Lynch. Becky Lynch wins.

Main event: Bayley and Sasha Banks (c) vs Lita and Trish Stratus in a ladders match. Winners take it all (Raw and Smackdown Women’s Championships). Baysha retains.

#evolution 2 #fantasy booking

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goalhofer · 1 year ago

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2023-24 Henderson Silver Knights Roster

Wingers

#4 Mason Geertsen (Drayton Valley, Alberta)*

#13 Jakub Demek (Košice, Slovakia)**

#24 Adam Cracknell (Prince Albert, Saskatchewan) A

#42 Alex Swetlikoff (Kelowna, British Columbia)**

#53 Simon Pinard (Drummondville, Quebec)**

#54 Grigori Denisenko (Novosibirsk, Russia)*

#67 Tyler Benson (Edmonton, Alberta)*

#72 Gage Quinney (Las Vegas, Nevada)

#83 Daniel D'Amato (Vaughan, Ontario)

Centers

#11 Mason Morelli (Minot, North Dakota)*

#12 Jakub Brabenec (Brno, Czech Republic)**

#19 Brendan Brisson (Manhattan Beach, California)

#57 Mason Primeau (Owen Sound, Ontario) A

#73 Matt Boudens (Pembroke, Ontario)

#91 Jett Jones (Olds, Alberta)**

Defensemen

#5 Daniil Chayka (Moscow, Russia)

#15 Christoffer Sedoff (Helsinki, Finland)**

#40 Lukas Cormier (Kent County, New Brunswick)

#41 Brandon Hickey (Leduc, Alberta)

#44 Layton Ahac (North Vancouver, British Columbia)

#45 Jake Bischoff (Grand Rapids, Minnesota) C

#62 Daniil Miromanov (Moscow, Russia)

#65 Dysin Mayo (Victoria, British Columbia)

Goalies

#30 Jiří Patera (Prague, Czech Republic)

#32 Jesper Vikman (Stockholm, Sweden)**

#68 Jordan Papirny (Edmonton, Alberta)**

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whoacanada · 4 years ago

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Would love to know more about your #13 WIP!

Oh god #13 — okay, so, ‘(yeah it’s true) all i wanna do is talk about you’ is entirely about the Falconers signing a new/old hotshot player who’s wife immediately puts herself in competition with media-darling Bitty. What starts off as innocent backbiting turns into, like, anonymous complaints to the adoption agency Jack and Bitty are using. Also greatly inspired by UK footballer drama.

___________

“You know I’m going to be fat when I retire because of you,” Jack chides, snatching a white fudge, falcon-shaped cake pop from the stand as Eric tries to swat him away. “Hope you’re ready.”

“Ready? I’m expecting it.”

After seven years, Eric is old hat at welcoming the newest Falconers and their respective partners. The first Family Skate of the season is populated with elaborate desserts and dishes right out of Eric’s cookbooks. He spends days in the kitchen perfecting cake pops and truffles in the shape of the Falconer’s mascot, sweet and savory hand pies, gluten-free, dairy-free, nut-free, and vegan options, he puts his whole heart into every season, even personalizing care packages for each new family. All of it a love letter to the Falconers, and, unsurprisingly, to his husband.

However, as Eric stares down the folding table near the arena entrance, there’s an unease he hasn’t felt since his first Family Skate, when a still-closeted Jack had introduced Eric to his teammates for the first time.

“There’s usually one every season,” Carrie sighs from behind Eric. “We’ve been lucky, but with all this young blood, we’re long overdue for a bitch.”

Eric turns away from his shame to find Carrie, Gabbie, and Vanessa showing varying levels of discomfort as they stare down the lone gift basket; the hang tag bearing ‘David and Emily Grant’ in Eric’s swooping hand, courtesy of a recent calligraphy class taken with the ladies — also, Guy, surprisingly.

“No need to be crass,” Eric defends. “Maybe they just missed it.”

“Nope.” Vanessa shakes her head, causing the arena lights to catch on her new diamond earrings. “She was on Real Housewives of Vegas when Grant had the C before Parson dethroned him. She’s been chasing that high ever since.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s going to be a problem. I haven’t even talked to her yet.” Eric understands the issue the moment the words leave his mouth. “Oh.”

“Three A’s, no C,” Gabbie cautions. “Which means there’s a prize to be won.”

“God, do you remember when Cavanaugh signed? His girlfriend was nuts, walked around here like he was the next Crosby.”

“Did she talk to any of you?” Eric asks, trying not to worry he’s the odd man out, figuratively and literally. “Emily? Did she say anything?”

The women fall quiet and Eric exhales slowly.

“Ah, well, guess I need to go on a full charm offensive, then.”

“No, you need to stay the hell out of her way.” Carrie insists. “She’s looking for a rival and you’re the only one of us with real star power. No offense, we’re all great, but you’re . . . you.”

“And Jack’s got an A.” Vanessa chides.

“I’ve never not been able to make someone like me,” Eric says, only to immediately remind himself of Whiskey’s standoffishness. “I’ll just need to step up my game, that’s all.”

Ashley, pushing her stroller past, slows her stride when she hears the content of the conversation. “Are you talking about Grant?”

“We aren’t talking about anyone,” Eric says diplomatically. “Emily just forgot her gift basket.”

“Oooo, word of advice,” Ashley says, keeping her voice low. “Don’t let any of this get back to the guys. WAG feuds can get you traded. That’s what happened to Victoria Rawlins last season, you know, with the Caps? She got into it with the owner’s wife and her husband got knocked down to a farm team. Can you imagine an argument about breastfeeding versus formula costing a career? My god.”

“That’s what happened? Jack said he was — Okay, okay, never mind, warning received,” Eric flits his hands to settle the conversation. “Now, I need everyone to remember that the adoption work interview for Jack is in a few weeks and I’ll give updates when I know it’s coming for sure, but please tell your men to not joke about our sex life, or anything, actually.”

“Eric, please,” Gabby smiles. “No one is going to fuck this up for you.”

#wip replies #zimbits #WAG drama #running-rabbit

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ivanreycristo · 2 years ago

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..mi última foto antes del 11-$ fue a finales de agosto de 2001 en la Fortaleza ARABE de MALAGA o GIBRALFARO (desde donde se ve la plaza de TOROS) ..xq me invitaba Juan José Lasso de la Vega de Vacaciones al ser su familia del RINCON DE LA VICTORIA (01,02 y 03 q se le acoplo GLORIA Llanos xq tras estar en BENALMADENA-MALAGA con su amiga compañera en BP Isabel ACOSTA a la q me acababa de tirar con la camiseta de BECKHAM recién fichado x REAL MADRID tras DUCHARNOS y estar en un cumple en disco LA SAL de una amiga d GLORIA de la q me dijo era PROSTITUTA DE LUJO con CLIENTES FIJOS EN CAPITALES EUROPEAS y cuya hermana SILVIA LLANOS es LUNA en la peli LUCIA Y EL SEXO de sevillana PAZ VErGA donde se desnuda y folla en PANTALLA ..y a la q me Cruze en CC LA MORALEJA=ENSEÑANZA MORAL..donde vive)..yendo el 1er fin de semana de septiembre a CORRER su 1/2 MARATON x las FIESTAS DEL JAMON x 1era vez (volvería en 2002 y solo x acabar te daban entrada para ver a LA UNION autores del CD TENTACION en su plaza de TOROS donde murió un último torero en España en su feria del ANGEL, VICTOR BARRIO , pues IVAN FANDIÑO lo hizo en FRANCIA tras fotografiar un pañuelo con su nombre bajo un TERMOMETRO-RELOJ de la C/ASUNCION de SEVILLA frente Restaurant MEXICANO AMANECER y su furgoneta frente HOTEL NH PLAZA DE ARMAS en mayo 2014 y encerrarse el DOMINGO DE RESURRECION DE 2015 en MADRID con 6 TOROS diciendo q tenía una CITA CON LA HISTORIA Y QUE SI TENIA Q MORIR LO HARIA LIBRE..fracasando en la CORRIDA y muriendo en 2017)..

...y recuerdo q fui a TERUEL (en cuya IGLESIA de SAN PEDRO o de los Trágicos AMANTES me firmó a nombre de mi Abuelo SALVADOR LOPEZ ,mi compañero en colegio SANTA MARIA DE LA HISPANIDAD, cuando con 18 años fundo la revista d temas OCULTOS "AÑO CERO", JAVIER SIERRA , su libro EL MAESTRO DEL PRADO Y LAS PINTURAS PROFETICAS sobre un libro llamado APOCALIPSIS NOVA q guardan en EL ESCORIAL donde entierran a los REYES D ESPAÑA)..escuchando x la radio YOU ROCK MY WORLD el single adelanto del CD INVENCIBLE de Michael JACKSON q presentó el 7_sep_01 en NEW YORK en su concierto homenaje x 30 años de carrera y q se volvió hacer el 10_sep_01 así como el CD DE GRANDES EXITOS de LOS SECRETOS q incluye AMIGA MALA SUERTE del CD CAMBIO DE PLANES y cuyo cantante drogadicto apareció muerto en calle ESPIRITU SANTO de MADRID.

De la carrera en si recuerdo q iba con el grupo de cabeza liderado x marroquíes pero me pareció lento el RITMO x lo q me escape pero al KM me encuentro un MURO q era la ASCENSION a una COLINA y estuve apunto de ABANDONAR (implore a DIOS q me dejase acabarla)..x lo q al año siguiente volví (con LASSO DE LA VEGA fotografiando os en Plaza de SAN JUAN y a mi frente a la TV del Hotel con el crédito de ELISABETH WILSON cuyo último papel fue hacer de la MADRE de ROOSEVELT en HYDE PARK ON HUDSON sobre visita de rey de INGLATERRA a EEUU previa II GUERRA MUNDIAL )..y recuerdo q salí conservador o con miedo (xq las pase muy putas..xq como vayas a tope o más de lo q puedes en una carrera de fondo..SUFRES COMO UN CONDENADO)..x lo q me enganche a la primera chica q era María José Pueyo q luego conseguiría con 38 años o 6 después ser olímpica en MARATON en Pekin'08

youtube

#Youtube

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fiddlepickdouglas · 4 years ago

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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 10 - Clean This Up

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, who is he really?, 2.9k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: abuse, mild violence

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Alex had said to check the diner, so Victoria opted to have dinner there and asked to see the owner. She was aware of the vigilante-style work she was doing, but with everything else going on in her life, this couldn’t possibly hurt any worse. Folding her hands, she breathed calmly as she peeked at the menu. It was important not to act as authoritative as she usually did, she reminded herself. A portly man with short gray hair and a mustache came over and took the seat across from her.

“Hi there,” the man said, shaking Victoria’s hand. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, I’m Victoria Molina,” she introduced herself. “I was actually trying to find someone and I was told you could help me.”

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh, alright. Who are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for a young man of about seventeen, he goes by Willie? I was told he works here. I just have some questions for him. Would he happen to be in at all today?”

“We don’t have anyone named Willie here anymore,” the man told her. “I actually just bought this establishment along with the hotel about two weeks ago and a few of the staff followed the previous owner to a different business. You might want to talk to him instead.”

“Oh,” Victoria sat back in slight disappointment. “I take it you’re not Caleb Covington?”

“No, he’s the guy I bought it from. I’m Frank Wolfe. I can give you his contact information, though.”

Nodding, she smiled politely.

“I would appreciate that. Sorry I had to come bother you, though.”

“Not at all,” he said. “I apologize that I can’t be any more useful. If you like, I can take your order.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll actually have the carne asada.”

“Perfect,” he smiled as he took her menu away. “I’ll have that information for you in just a minute, too.”

Taking a gulp of water, Victoria sighed. It certainly felt just like any regular case. The fact the business had recently changed hands made her want to be suspicious, but she fought to remain level-headed. It was enough that she was going off the word of a teenage boy and an old poster. If it was a dud, if this trip led nowhere, she would buy Carlos a gift and head home safe and sound.

After finishing her meal, she returned to her hotel room and pulled out the business card Frank Wolfe had given her. Something about the dark purple design and the old-fashioned lettering he’d chosen made her feel like Caleb Covington was at least a little pretentious, if not flashy about his business. Picking up the phone and dialing the number, she held her breath waiting for an answer.

“Caleb Covington, who may I be speaking to?” a baritone voice chimed on the other end. The touch of sing-song in his tone was unexpected.

“Hi, my name is Victoria,” she introduced herself for the second time that night. “I was told you were the guardian of a young man named Willie?”

“Are you with social services?” he asked.

She furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry?”

“I usually only get a call when we have a hearing scheduled, but our last one was just a couple months ago.” His tone had gone from happy to serious at such a jarring speed it took Victoria a moment to process his words.

“No,” she said finally. “No, I’m not with them. I didn’t mean to confuse you. I’m actually reaching out on a personal favor. See another young man I know says they met a while back.”

“Oh, is it the band that came through a few weeks ago?” Caleb immediately picked the cheer back up.

“Yes, I’m glad you remember,” she responded, surprised.

“How are those boys doing?”

“Oh, they’re just fine. I think they’re gonna be a success.”

“Good to hear it,” he said. “Listen, no harm done. I own a swanky little club just in the south of town. I would be delighted if you gave me a visit, and I’d be happy to chat.”

“Sounds great, thank you,” Victoria smiled, unable to believe how easy that felt. “I can stop by tomorrow evening.”

“Wonderful. If it isn’t too much, I’ll make you a reservation.”

“Well, I can’t say no to such generosity!” It had been a long time since Victoria had gone on a night out. This was a much needed vacation, and if it killed two birds with one stone, all the better. She said goodbye and decided since she was practically getting everything she needed at the club, the rest of the day would be spent treating herself for once.

Willie skateboarded up the driveway and only just remembered Caleb’s rule about the pool in time to hop off before pulling off his helmet and going around the back. He took the back route into the house and dropped a number of grocery bags on the counter. One of these days he would age out of the foster system and not spend the morning being Caleb’s errand boy, but for now he just laid Caleb’s credit card on the table and went outside toward his shed.

Opening the door, he saw Caleb standing in the middle of the room, looking around at all of his drawings. Paper covered most of the walls now. Faces with no names to them, locations with no map to their destination - only snippets of a past life. Willie couldn’t stop drawing them. There still weren’t many memories returning to him, but any detail was an important one. He hadn’t drawn this much in ages, since before he found Sheldon. The backwards dream had become a recurring one by now, and there was still very little that he understood about it. Still, he had so many scenes made out of it that he could almost recreate the dream in a very rough animation.

“Hi C-Caleb,” Willie stammered. This never happened. It made him immediately nervous.

“What a collection, William,” Caleb said, not exactly sounding like an awed patron in a museum. “I mean, the sheer volume of work that went into these is absolutely mind-blowing.”

A small pebble of pride rose in Willie’s chest.

“Really?.... Um, thank you.” He couldn’t suppress his smile.

Caleb held up a hand and looked down at his well-manicured nails, and then back up.

“I just don’t understand why I look so hostile in this one,” he said, pointing to the picture in question. “And that one. And all of these in this corner.” His gaze returned to Willie with unprecedented menace.

Willie immediately shrank away, his mouth gaping open.

“Well...I..they’re from a dream.”

“A dream?” Caleb repeated, not liking what he was hearing.

“Yeah, I think it was a memory.”

Willie watched the man straighten his posture, a calculating expression on his face.

“Are these all memories?” Caleb asked after a tense moment, casting his eyes about the room.

“I think so,” Willie said hesitantly.

Caleb lifted a hand and grabbed the bottom of one. It was the first one WIllie had done of his dad sitting inside the truck and smiling at him.

“Hm,” was all that he said for a second.

And then he tore it in half.

Willie made toward the picture in alarm, feeling a part of him inside being torn just the same, but was stopped as Caleb held a hand out.

“Ah ah,” he said. “What have I told you about becoming your own person regardless of the past?” He took a handful of another drawing and ripped that one too.

Ignoring what Caleb said, Willie lunged forward to try stopping him anyway. Caleb was faster, grabbing his shirt and tossing him backward into the wall. He couldn’t help but begin crying.

“But these are my memories, why would you - ” he sputtered, lost for words.

“Because, William,” Caleb continued loudly, pulling as many as he could off the wall and shredding them into smaller pieces. “Your history? The one full of loss and being shuffled here and there? That is all that awaits you. You know it’s the truth; that’s how you ended up here. I offer you the opportunity to become a new person, and I can’t allow you to spoil yourself with reminders. And besides, those little friends you not-so-secretly made a few weeks ago have started snooping around in my business, and I can’t have that.”

He didn’t even pick anything up, he just left paper strewn all over the floor and walked all over it. As he made for the last wall, Willie made one more attempt to overpower him. He leapt onto Caleb’s shoulders and tried to pull him back with all his weight. A fist landed in his eye and he slacked his grip. Caleb wrestled him onto the bed and held him down, a crazed look in his eye that Willie swore he’d never seen no matter how familiar it felt.

“I don’t understand, what do they have to do with it? Why can’t I have friends?”

“I’m doing this for your own good,” Caleb hissed at him. “You” - he reached up and touched the scar on Willie’s head with his finger - “You got a reboot and you know how many people are lucky enough for that? You should thank me. Unfortunately, you can’t have friends when they send someone asking me questions about that little past of yours. That’s just asking for trouble.”

All Willie could do was hold his eye and lay back as Caleb tore up the last of the drawings. Once he finished, Caleb patted himself off and made his way out the door.

“Clean this up,” he told Willie. “And don’t bother doing any more art.”

As the door shut behind him, Willie scrambled onto the floor to search for just one of the drawings. Shuffling through smudged pieces of paper, he saw a few tears drop onto his ruined work. Eventually, he held the picture of his father in two pieces in his hands. Sobbing, he tried to hold them together evenly, but Caleb’s work had made that hard to do. His only hope was to try drawing it again, but he was already terrified of what Caleb’s reaction to that would be if his first one had been this.

A piece of another drawing caught Willie’s eye from underneath. He recognized Caleb’s snarling face from the dream and was surprised at how well it captured what he’d just witnessed. His mind went back to the way he knew the look in Caleb’s eyes. Suddenly, the awful realization dawned on him: he finally understood the dream.

Victoria walked into the club that evening, glad she had taken the time to look and feel fresh. This place was clearly up to snuff and then some. A live band played with dancers scattered throughout, all in bright, sparkly, feathery getup. A tall man with neatly styled dark hair was mesmerizing the crowd as he sang, keeping the energy high. As she was led to a table, Victoria simply sat and watched, greatly impressed with the talent.

Once the man’s solo finished, he bowed, gestured at the band to play on without him, and exited the stage. To Victoria’s surprise, he took the seat directly across from her.

“Ms. Victoria, you look so lovely, how are we this evening?” he asked with a charming smile. “I’m Caleb Covington.”

“Are you kidding me?” she started. “That was you up there? You’re a man of many talents; I’m already dazzled.”

“Oh, well, I hope that remains a constant while you’re here,” he said. "But you came to ask me about some other things, what were they?”

“Yes, I had some questions about Willie.”

Willie sat outside the bodega, unwilling to move for a while. He felt like everything inside of him was empty, as if Caleb had possessed claws and dug everything out until he was left hollow. The many ideas that had risen in his mind in the past few hours were all too much, all at once. If he dared, was he sure he could handle everything that might come his way? Every time he’d heard that ridiculous speech about starting over, becoming his own, yada-yada, he hadn’t considered any of the options he was now contemplating.

He’d already done some things. Already bought some things. Now he got up to collect Sheldon and held him tightly as he nodded to Escobar, who saluted him back. The man had said he didn’t want a dramatic thank you. Stuffing the items he purchased in his bag, he kept a hold of Sheldon as he skated off into the darkness.

“So, you see, Willie isn’t missing. He was abandoned,” Caleb was saying to Victoria. “Poor thing has struggled to adjust. I’ve dealt with some handfuls in the past, but I really have been doing the most for him, and he’s been with me for more than three years. I think it’s really sweet of those boys to raise a concern, and I hate to be a dead end, but that’s the truth of it.”

Victoria sat, nodding in acceptance.

“That makes a lot of sense, Mr. Covington, thank you for providing that for me.”

“Oh, call me Caleb. We’re all friends in here.”

“Okay, then, Caleb,” she corrected. “What got you into foster care?”

He put a hand over his heart and a fond look came over him.

“The youth are just full of so much magic, and I hate to see that their parents have chosen to lay it to waste. I’m the one who takes some of the tougher cases so I can bring out the best in them. You see that young man over there, Dante?” Caleb pointed at one of the dancers. “Classic rebel when he was young. You wouldn’t even know, he’s turned into such a gentleman. There’s a few more here and there in the club. I call them my graduates.”

“Well, I will tell you,” Victoria said. “When I first talked to you on the phone I wasn’t expecting you to be so generous. But now I can see that it’s just how you are.”

Caleb shot her a playful smile.

“Victoria, no need to butter me up. I do have some tight business practices to keep up.”

Fluid poured over every inch of the shed. Willie had made sure it was more than enough to get things going. He’d made sure to get the essentials: food for himself and Sheldon, a few changes of clothes, and a stash of money he’d taken from the safe in Caleb’s bedroom. The man shouldn’t have given him the combination in the first place.

Stepping out of the shed he looked at it one last time. What a sad, lousy existence. Living to perform for this man who shut him up inside this little thing and he had actually called it home? The further he was into his plan, the bolder he began to feel. He remembered when he had missed getting into the Pearl and that feeling of wrongness that had made him so frustrated. This feeling he had right now? It was so right. It was so right it drowned out anything scary about this whole idea.

He looked back at where he had put Sheldon on a small leash and tied him along the fence around Caleb’s backyard. It was definitely a safe distance. Then Willie pulled a box of matches out of his pocket, lit one, and looked at the flame for a minute. He held it just over the threshold of the doorway so it would land inside. It was so weak, like he had been ever since his accident. But he knew it was going to become so powerful, and he desperately hoped that he could retain some of that power for himself.

“Clean this up, Caleb,” he said, and he let his fingers go.

Victoria had stayed just a little longer to enjoy more food and music before standing up and heading toward the door. Caleb saw her on her way out and made her stop for a moment.

“It’s been a lovely night, and I’m grateful for everything you told me,” she said to him.

“Well I’m glad you took the opportunity to see what I have here,” he replied. “If you’re ever in the city again, please stop by. We’re always partying and putting on the best show.”

“Oh, I most certainly will,” she said, smiling as she made her way outside.

Someone tapped on Caleb’s shoulder from behind. Wordlessly, he turned to see who it was and why it was important.

“Sir,” one of his servers said. “You have a phone call. It’s the fire department.”

“What?” Caleb spat as he went to pick it up.

Willie sped along on his board the best that he could with Sheldon in his arms. He carefully made it down the ramp onto the freeway, controlling his speed as well as he could. He could picture Caleb now, just getting back to his home, eyes wide as he came upon the blaze. It was a very strange feeling, but right now Willie chose to focus on his newfound freedom. The cost wasn’t the matter right now. Freedom was all that was going to take him and his cat as far as they could go. The destination for now was Los Angeles.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #aunt victoria #caleb covington #tw abuse #tw mild violence #viva las vegas #clean this up #fiddlepickdouglas

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