#can we flip the records vault incident

[leletha-jann]

Doin' a bit of a reread for reasons, and just hit one of the Girl Genius lines that live in my head rent-free, and probably nobody else's:

"I can't find his notes..."

This. Here:

(from the scene "Gil and Bang Have a Talk")

Probably it's a throwaway line, because at this point Gil has had two and a half years to understand what was done to him, and of course he would to try to fight back where he can, and to find out as much as he could. It's never been mentioned again.

But it haunts me, because the parallels...the parallels...

I want - so badly - a scene where that one little line pays off. Now that the overlay is no longer in Gil's head, and Gil has Tarvek back with him, and they're friends again, and we're hoping they get to be so much more...

...maybe, if they ever find a few spare hours, the two of them could go looking for Klaus' records all over again, and do better this time.

I want to see that. I want to be there for that conversation. I want to see the Records Vault Incident, the Reprise, and the setup is right there just waiting.

(One little line. It's stuck in my brain like a fishhook. I hit it every time like a wall. It's not "We could have kept him safe", which breaks me, but...this fishhook, it snags. This comic. I love it so much.)

[thatringboy]

Sea of Thieves - TWST AU

Based off of @ihavebecomeapenguin‘s Role Swap AU where the First year gang and their respective dorm heads all swap years! This is my second attempt at writing this fic, so I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2,130 (another record???)

Warnings: Cursing, fight scenes, Azul Angst because this is chapter three

Getting the leader of Savanaclaw to agree with their plan was easy enough for Yuu Prefect. Jack seemed to have the idea in his head that he was obligated to help the Ramshackle student because of how the recent overblot incident went down. Yuu didn’t dislike the help they were receiving, but Jack’s insistence that they slept in his dorm while Yuu fought to get Ramshackle back from the Octavinelle leaders was a little much.

However, convincing their new friend Leona would be a much more difficult ordeal.

“That has got to be the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard.”

“Well I don’t see you coming up with any ideas! I’ve only got a few hours left!” Yuu leaned against the door as Leona flipped the page on his magazine.

“It’s not really my problem, Herbivore.” He sighed and adjusted how he laid on his bed. “What could I do?”

Yuu stood up straight. “What’s wrong with you? You were all up for raiding the vault before, what’s changed now?”

Leona shut the magazine and tossed it aside, crossing his arms and sitting deeper into his pillows. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just tired of getting my ass handed to me by walking sushi!”

Grim snorted on Yuu’s shoulder, but the Prefect was not amused. “It’s a shame, really,” they began, “Think about how people will react when they hear that the second prince of the Afterglow Savanna turned his back on his friend. What would your nephew think of that?”

Yuu knew they struck a chord deep within Leona. He was on his feet in an instant and if looks could kill, Yuu would be dead where they stood. The beastman scowled at the human before him. “Fine, but we do this my way. Your plans suck.”

Yuu’s face formed a mischievous smile. Azul Ashengrotto had crossed a line and by the Seven there would be hell to pay. Oh yes, everything was coming together nicely.

~~~

Riddle paced back and forth and twiddled his thumbs while Trey cleaned his glasses again.

“I have a bad feeling about this--”

“You always have a bad feeling.” Trey put his glasses back on.

“No, seriously! What if Trappola-Senpai finds out that we’re gone? What if we’re too late? What if Leona doesn’t agree to help the Prefect? What if we’re caught out of bed? What if--”

Trey held up a hand. “Riddle, please. Everything is gonna be ok. Just breathe and let the chips fall where they may. Speaking of which...”

The mirror to Savanaclaw lit up and four people stepped out. Leona and Yuu approached the Heartslabyul first years while Ruggie and Jack hung back, already filled in.

As Yuu explained the plan, Riddle’s nervousness slipped away. That is, until his part in the operation was explained.

“You want us to do what?” Riddle’s eyebrows shot up.

Leona smirked. “What, you scared or something?”

“N-No!” He turned bright red. “I just don’t know if I have the skills to pull this off.”

Trey put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll do fine.”

“Thank you, Trey.”

Grim gagged, the anemone on his head wobbling. “Ew! Get a room, you two!”

Leona reached over and flicked the blue appendage. “Shut up, be glad they’re here.”

Yuu rolled their eyes. “So, then everyone knows their parts? Good, then we can get going. The sooner we finish this, the better.”

The first years nodded and passed around the potion that would allow them to breathe underwater. Jack and Ruggie disappeared back into their dorm’s mirror while Yuu and company approached the dark mirror.

In a second, they found themselves in the Coral Sea near the Alantica Memorial Museum. As per usual, a merman guard was posted outside the door. The group looked around for the infamous Leech twins and swam towards the building when they saw that the coast was clear.

Yuu might have had their iconic resting bitch face plastered for their friends to see, but the fact that no one had tried to stop them yet worried the Prefect. Trey swam ahead of the group and approached the guard while the others took cover behind a rock. Yuu could hear Trey spit out a convincing lie about wanting to explore the Museum, only to be denied by the guard. Of course, this was expected and Trey struck up a conversation between the guard, giving a small signal that it was okay for his friends to make a break for the door.

They swam behind the guard while he was distracted and pulled at the entrance, only to discover that it was locked. Leona rolled his eyes and pushed up his sleeve, activating his Unique Magic.

“I am hunger, I am thirst, I am that which steals your tomorrow. Now kneel before me, Kings Roar.”

The door handle turned to sand and he pulled the door open, earning a glare from Riddle. They swam inside the door while Trey continued to keep the attention of the guard. Yuu had to admit Trey’s ability to lie on cue was unsettling, but not unwelcomed.

Finding the picture Yuu risked their dorm for wasn’t a hard task. However, they’d forgotten that the only other reasonable person was still outside sweet talking the guard, so you can imagine how Yuu felt when Riddle took his magic pen and smashed the glass casing around the photo without a second thought.

An alarm went off somewhere in the building and it occurred to Yuu that the last time they were here, there were two guards. A Merman in armor swam around the corner and almost called for backup, but Leona gave him a swift kick to the head and knocked him out.

Maybe hanging around with himbos isn’t such a bad thing. Yuu thought to themself. They almost laughed at the mental image of calling Leona a himbo, but remained focused on the situation at hand. The four swam back out of the Museum and signaled for Trey to wrap up the conversation that he was way too invested in.

They made their escape and began to swim back to the mirror spot, but two dark shadows in the water blocked their path. The Leech brothers eyed the photo in Riddle’s hand with amusement and smiled, calculated toothy grins. Floyd’s voice ripped through the cold water and sent chills down the spines of the first years.

“That doesn’t belong to you, Shrimpy-Chan~”

~~~

Azul watched the first years sneak through the mirror and instructed the twins to give them an hour to retrieve the photo. What he hadn’t seen was the Savanaclaw leadership watching him from their respective mirror.

The Octomer returned to the Mostro Lounge and felt that the establishment lack a certain atmosphere, but then remembered that the Leech twins were off preparing to collect on his most recent contract. He kept himself busy and waved the twins off when they departed, but found his tasks boring when they left.

The Lounge didn’t open for a few minutes, but Azul could see a line forming outside. He grabbed a first year from Scarabia that he had enslaved was helping out that day and positioned him to be the host. The doors opened and Azul noticed that a large amount of customers were from Savanaclaw, but thought nothing of it.

He returned to the VIP room and checked his phone for messages before sitting down behind his large desk. Azul looked over the papers on his desk and noticed that jade had dropped off collateral on a recent contract. Azul spun around in his chair like a supervillain - which he privately enjoyed doing - and stood to open his vault. He had barley cracked the door open when a first year from his own dorm stepped into the VIP room looking distressed.

“What could possibly be so important that you come in here unannounced?”

“It’s a mad house out there, Senpai!” The first year was out of breath,

“Excuse m--”

“There’s too many of them, we can’t keep serving them!”

“Show me.”

Azul followed the first year out to the Lounge’s restaurant area and stopped. Those students from Savanaclaw who were crowding the door? They had taken up every seat! They were yelling and cursing out his waiters and throwing glasses and sending back food they deemed inedible! And of course, the smug faces of Ruggie Bucchi and Jack Howl leaned against the door frame without a care in the world.

“Mister Howl, what is the meaning of this?” Azul tried his hardest not to scream in frustration.

“That’s Howl-Senpai to you, tentacles!” Ruggie snickered.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.” Jack had a smug expression.

Someone called Azul’s name from the kitchen and yelled that they needed assistance. Jack’s smile turned sinister. “That sounds urgent, you wouldn’t want to upset your customers, would you?”

Azul’s face burned red as he struggled not to explode on them. After all, he had a reputation; one bad day couldn’t ruin that. But he did find it suspicious that this happened as soon as the twins had left. Azul returned to the kitchen and kept his eye on the Savanaclaw leaders until he stepped behind the swinging door, narrowly running into a Heartslabyul student carrying a tray of tea.

Once he was gone, Jack nodded to Ruggie and the second year made a break for the VIP room. Phase one was complete.

~~~

If this was any other circumstance, Yuu would say that the eels swimming around them was majestic. However, in this moment, Yuu struggled not to show fear.

“What should we do with the little Shrimpy and Koebe-Chan and Lionfish and their little friends, Jade?” Floyd’s nicknames for them made Riddle flush.

“I don’t know, what if you gave them a squeeze?” Jade swam a little too close to Leona and almost got slashed across the face by long nails. Yuu looked to the Heartslabyul duo and nodded. The two had their pens out in a flash and went back to back. This part of the plan required concentration and almost perfect timing. If one of them messed up, they may just become fish food.

Floyd caught on to what they were doing. “Hah! What, is little Koebe-Chan going hit me with his little necklaces?”

Riddle turned even more red, but surprisingly didn’t lash out. Yuu looked over for a second and noticed that Trey was holding his hand to keep him calm. Yuu turned their attention back to Jade as Leona swiped at him again. Leona attempted to fire a bolt of magic at him, but Jade was too quick, easily avoiding and laughing at the attempt.

Yuu grabbed Leona’s sleeve. “Floyd’s magic! We can’t touch them!”

Leona swung his head around, smacking Grim in the face with his ponytail, and snarled at Trey and Riddle. “Hurry up, goddamnit!”

Riddle broke his concentration and glared at Leona. “I’m doing my best you useless pussy!”

Trey and Yuu made eye contact and knew that the plan was falling apart. Trey rolled his eyes and pointed his wand at Floyd. “Oh for the Seven!”

He activated his Unique Magic and suddenly Floyd’s smile fell. His multi colored eyes widened with rage and Trey gulped. “Riddle, now!”

Riddle spun around and pointed his pen at Floyd as well. “Don’t tell me what to do! Off with your head!”

The all too familiar clicking sound could be heard and Floyd grabbed at his neck. Riddle’s iconic neck lock was holding onto the merman and based on the violent thrashing from Floyd, it wasn’t budging. Floyd glared daggers into Riddle and lunged at him with a loud shriek, but Leona had crossed the distance between them and booted him in the side of the head.

“Floyd!” Jade rushed to his brother’s side and was relieved that Floyd was only knocked unconscious. He looked at the first years and down at the neck brace on his twin. “Just... go.”

They didn’t hesitate to swim back to the mirror spot and teleport back to Night Raven College. When they had finally caught their breath from swimming so fast, Riddle look down at his hands.

“I.... I just used my magic to harm an upperclassman. Leona, you kicked an upperclassman in the head!”

“Yeah and I’ll do it again.” Leona picked between his teeth with his pinky finger. Yuu looked at Trey. “So, how did you do that? The plan was for you two to cast that combo spell that Crowley showed you.”

Trey rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I panicked and realized that my Doodle Suite might have been able to make Floyd-Senpai’s shield just not work.”

“Genius, even for a human like you!” Grim jumped onto the green haired boy’s shoulder with a smile.

“Thank you?”

“Don’t take that as a compliment!” Riddle squinted his eyes at Grim. Leona pulled out his phone and was amazed that it wasn’t dead. “So, Jack and Ruggie-Senpai should be done by now, should we head over to the Lounge?”

Yuu sighed and realized how tired they were. “Let’s.”

~~~

When he managed to get the last beastman out of his restaurant, Azul almost collapsed against the door. He got to his feet and almost stumbled back to the VIP room, but stopped dead in his tracks. His blood turned to ice and his glasses fell off his face. Azul made an undignified sound and spun around, discarding his glasses in his haste. He tore down the hall back to the Lounge, leaving the VIP room and the open, empty vault within.

Azul threw open the doors to the Lounge and saw Ruggie leaning against a wall, cleaning out his teeth with a toothpick.

“What have you done?!” Azul’s voice was nothing more than a hushed whisper.

Ruggie ignored him. “You know, I tried takoyaki for the first time today, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

Azul turned a furious red. “You mangy beast! Where are they?!”

“Is that any way to talk to a classmate, Azul-kun?” Jack stepped out from behind a corner, a large stack of yellow papers in his hands. “I thought that you would have more tact.”

The Octavinelle student glared daggers into Jack’s soul. It was a little unsettling. The beastmen could just feel the anger seething out of him. Footsteps could be heard approaching the three.

“I can’t wait to see the look on that Octo-punk’s face when we give him the stupid photo!”

“I’ve never said anything bad against an upperclassman before, but I hope he looses it!”

“Like how you lost it with Floyd?”

“Shut up, or I’ll forcefully remove that anemone myself, you little beast!”

The first years turned the corner Jack was standing behind and stopped. Yuu held up a preemptive hand to stop any wise comments about Azul’s clearly enraged behaviour. With their other hand, they held out the photograph. “Here, so you can’t say we didn’t pull through our end of the deal.”

Azul just stared at the photo and began to laugh softly. “You... You think you’ve won? You steal my contracts, you destroy my Lounge and you bring me my photo to rub it in, huh? I see the twins have failed yet again.”

“Yet again?” Called a voice from down the hall. The students present turned their heads to see the human forms of the Leech brothers coming their way. Floyd still had Riddle’s neck lock on and held an ice pack to his temple.

Jade’s eyes looked Azul up and down. “It seems you’re the one who failed here.”

Azul scoffed. “Oh please, I gave you one task: keep them from returning the photo to me! You couldn’t even do that!”

Floyd stood up taller and took the ice pack away from his head. “You know, I don’t like that tone you’ve got. Makes me want to squeeze it out of you.”

Azul seemed to mentally backpedal. “Well, what I meant to say was--”

Jack waved the contracts in the air to get the mermen’s attention. “Do you want these or not?”

Azul’s anger turned to desperation. “Yes! Hand them over this instant!”

“No I don’t think I will.” Jack sneered. Yuu realized that he was just toying with Azul. They almost felt bad for the second year dorm head, but at the same time, he had enslaved over two hundred students simply because they wanted a cheat sheet for finals. Jack looked over the documents in his hand and passed them to Leona. “Do what you want, I just wanted to see him squirm.”

Leona gladly took the contracts and Yuu realized what he was about to do. They made no move to stop him, but Jade’s eyes opened uncharacteristically large.

“I am hunger, I am thirst, I am that which steals your tomorrow. Now kneel before me, Kings Roar!” 

The golden contracts crumbled into sand between his fingers. Azul shrieked again and fell to his knees, watching as Leona kicked the pile of sand at his feet to solidify that the papers were gone. Yuu looked to Grim and saw that the anemone on his head was gone, however the next sound Azul made got them to return their focus on the situation.

“You... you monsters!” Azul slowly got to his feet.

“Yeah what?” Grim grinned. “You gotta be a bit more specific.”

Leona rolled his eyes and turned to go. “C’mon, I’ve got practice to get to. I don’t wanna throw a pity party for that mess.”

Riddle raised his pen and the neck brace around Floyd vanished. He rubbed his neck and smiled at Riddle. “Thank you, Koebe-chan! No hard feelings for trying to eat you?”

Riddle made a disgusted face that Trey snorted at. Azul watched them start to leave with horror in his eyes. “No, wait! Fix this mess! Grim, I helped you pass your exam!”

“You also used me as a sponge!”

Floyd pursed his lips and crossed his arms. “You’re acting pretty lame right now, you know that right?”

Jade nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Desperation isn’t a good look for you.”

Azul looked around for something, anything to make the situation better. Yuu sighed. “Azul, you did this to yourself. Now, if you excuse us--”

Azul got to his feet with a strange expression on his face. “Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait! I can turn this around! Just watch, I’m not boring at all!”

The door to the Mostro Lounge creaked open and a timid looking Scarabia student stepped out, patting his head where Yuu assumed an anemone had been resting. Azul reached out his hand and a small ball of light flew out of the chest of the poor student and into Azul’s. He stood up with a crazed smile and looked around the group as the Scarabia boy collapsed.

“See?! I may not be what I once was, but I am still leagues above you all!”

Leona groaned and spun around on his heels. “Okay, now you’re taking this too far--”

He was interrupted by Azul’s laugh and a snap of the second year’s fingers. Ruggie pushed Leona down and the ball of light Yuu assumed was Ruggie’s magic flew to Azul. Jack pulled out his staff and growled as he watched Ruggie faint.

“You’ll pay for that, Ashengrotto.” He snarled.

Azul’s laugh grew dark and menacing. “Oh really, Jack-Senpai?”  the title oozing off of his tongue like poison. “Why don’t you just lighten up and Dance with me!”

Jack dropped the staff and became rigid, but soon regained control of his body. Azul turned to Floyd, who’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. All of the commotion had drawn the attention of the other Octavinelle dorm residents, all of which fell prey to Azul’s greedy glare.

Yuu watched in horror as Azul absorbed the magic of every student who had unknowingly stepped into their worst nightmare, but it wasn’t over. Yuu looked Azul up and down and saw his purple gem becoming more clouded by the second.

Riddle noticed this too and raised his pen to stop the nonsense, but Trey tackled him out of Azul’s line of sight. It occurred to Yuu that if Azul got is hands on the magic of their friends, the fight would turn from bad to ugly.

Of course, as per usual, the coming tide was already among them. Jade dashed to put himself between the first years and the crazed Azul, but got smacked to the side by a large black tentacle that had formed from Azul’s cane.

The overblotting version of Azul stood over the first years, but while their friends saw the anger in those cold blue eyes, Yuu recognized loneliness and fear. This was by far the worst case of overblotting Yuu had seen when comparing the Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw incident together, and they had no idea what to do now.

[cutie1365]

A Kid from Queens Part 17

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

           - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Another restless night of tossing a turning, not knowing if you really slept or if time has passed, you found yourself reaching for your phone on the nightstand. Your eyes flitted to the time- 3:50 AM. You were about to groan and plop back onto the bed when your eyes journey down to another notification from an hour ago.

“Override 17A” it read, and right below it another one.

“Training Wheels Protocol Disabled”

“What the fuck?” You muttered out loud. 17A was Peter’s suit. Certainly your father wouldn’t have done this, which only left one explanation.

“He didn’t-” You stopped, almost in disbelief. Did he just hack your suit?

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. where the hell is he?” you asked angrily, sitting up in bed.

“It appears the tracker has been removed from the suit, boss.” The AI informed you.

You threw the covers off of yourself and jumped out of bed.

“He better be dead, because if not I’m gonna kill him.” You huffed, moving to your desk and pulling open your laptop.

“Can you get me the last location he pinged?” You began pulling up the reports you had on his suit, to see if you could get any more information on what he’d been doing. It showed you a map of him bouncing around Queens and occasionally into the city. There was one last dot 200 miles away.

“A hotel in D.C.” F.R.I. said.

“Why wasn’t I informed the suit left the city?” You asked.

“Mr. Hogan was informed.” She said.

“When?” You shut the computer, turning back towards the middle of the room waiting for an answer.

“4:00 PM yesterday.” She informed you.

“What the hell is he doing in D.C.?” You asked yourself, “Get me Happy on the line.”

You had a bad feeling about this, did Peter disable the tracker himself? If he did, it meant he was going to do something he didn’t want any of you knowing about, likely meaning it’s dangerous.

“Are you sure? It is four in the morning.” She asked for confirmation.

“Call him.” You instructed, standing to pace the room.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Happy answered, his voice frantic. He knew you’d never call this early unless it was important.

“Where’s Peter?” You asked, the anger evident in your voice.

“The kid? He’s got a school trip in D.C? Why?” Happy asked, curiously.

“The suit’s tracker was disabled an hour ago, and some systems were changed without my authorization.” You tried to explain calmly.

“That’s not good.” Happy said, and you could almost feel his stress levels spike through the phone.

“Has he been giving you reports? Anything that could clue us into what he’s doing?” You asked, still pacing the room.

“He’s just been doing what he always does, helping old ladies, and bike thefts and muggings.” Happy shrugged.

“Shit. Ok, I’ll take care of it Hap.” You said, not wanting to stress Happy out even more.

You would have dug more to see if he knew anything, but in your pacings you figured a way into Peter’s suit. He may have disabled the tracker, but if the Training Wheels Protocols was deactivated that would mean his AI was now online. You should be able to enter through a backdoor in her system remotely.

After about half an hour you were able to get in, and although you wouldn’t be able to transmit anything you would be able to overhear any conversation between Peter and the AI. Hopefully that would tip you off to their location or what he’s planning.

“What is this place? Suit lady, where am I?” You heard Peter speaking, his voice transmitting through your computer.

“You’re in the most secure facility on the Eastern Seaboard. The Damage Control Deep Storage Vault.” His AI answered, casually.

“Son of a bitch.” You shook your head, jumping up and slamming your computer shut once more. Anger wasn’t the right word to describe what you’re feeling right now. Peter was meddling in something larger than himself, and he likely didn’t even know it. You didn’t want him to get killed.

Your dress pants were strewn over a chair in your room, they were closest so you grabbed them and a sweater and began to search for your keys. You knew the drive would take about 4 hours, it may be morning by then and you may miss him, but it was a chance you were willing to take. You couldn’t take the jet since it was upstate and you couldn’t get a pilot at this hour, with the Accords everyone was under such scrutiny that they couldn’t take you. If this had been years ago Steve or Clint would have gladly piloted last minute.

You did have one more option, but it was too risky. You hadn’t tested it enough, and certainly not for long distance flight stabilization. Plus your father would kill you if he found out you had made a suit prototype for yourself.

Once in the garage, you looked at the motorcycle next to your car. That could work... maybe shave an hour or two off of your trip by weaving in between cars and traffic. Though you’d almost certainly get pulled over and be slowed down even longer.

“Next time.” You glanced at the bike once more, as you climbed into the car and revved it up, praying you’d get there in time.

Once you were on the highway you put the car into autopilot, using your phone to connect to your remote desktop and back into his AI, to see if you could get any more clues as to what he was doing.

“Hey it’s like the glowy thing.” Peter spoke, excitement in his voice.

“That glowy thing is an explosive Chitauri energy core.” His AI, who you learned he named Karen, spoke very matter of factly.

“What!” You said out loud. “Peter Parker you’re so dead.” You groaned, flipping autopilot off, throwing your phone onto the seat next to you, and flooring it down the empty highway.

You were able to make the trip in three and a half hours, but you were too late. Peter was no longer at the facility. You had a worker let you into the deep storage vault, your name was practically on the door so authorization wasn’t an issue. You were thankful for grabbing nicer clothing though. You planned on looking for clues to where Peter ran off to, but you were distracted by a shipping container that had clearly been tampered with. This was something Peter couldn’t have done, nearly half of the items were missing. This had to have been the weapons dealings with the major.

You called in your FBI contacts to come investigate, and you were momentarily distracted and forgot about Peter, the whole reason you came here. You showed the agents the containers and the items missing, they must have been using the parts to make and sell weapons. They asked you questions about the protocols of this facility and shipments. When the venture between Stark Industries and the government was struck for this department, you’d read all the documents word for word, as your father was too bored to. Wasn’t really his area, paperwork. You answered their questions and discussed possible entries. A complete catalog of the other containers would have to be done and compared to the original records to see how much had been stolen, security would also have to be increased.

“Hang on.” Another agent to your right took a phone call that seemed important, “Where?” He said, concern evident in his voice. This caused everyone to look in his direction.

“Sir, we have an incident at the Washington Monument.” He turned to his boss saying.

“What kind of incident?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“Someone’s climbing it.” He said, in disbelief, the room went silent.

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath. That had to be Peter.

“Are we good here?” You turned to the agent who was your main contact and asked.

“Yeah, we’ll finish up here, see if we can get any prints.” He nodded, placing his hands on his hips as well, turning away from the rest of the group and dropping his voice slightly before continuing, “We’re getting intel on a possible rendezvous for a sale, we’ve got a guy posing as a buyer. We’ll let you know, we might need to use you as a distraction, but you’re free to go.”

You nodded, and tried to not look suspicious as you slowly rushed off to your car.

You drove as fast as you could, weaving in and out of traffic. As you got closer to the monument you saw D.C. Metro police helicopters circling. You hit the breaks as you saw fire trucks and ambulances surrounding the entrance. You put the car in park and stepped out, attempting to get a better view.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. what happened here?” You asked nervously.

“I’m sensing radiation from a Chitauri energy core detonation.” She spoke plainly.

“What? How the hell?” You walked closer to the scene, they were beginning to put up police tape.

“It appeared to be from inside the elevator.” She said.

“Is everyone ok?” You asked slowly.

“No casualties reported. Students inside the elevator were saved before it collapsed.” You now stood at the police tape, with a full view of the monument.

“Peter saved them?” You asked quietly, you could see the broken window at the very top, that must have been how he got in. He saved his friends, you really couldn’t be mad at him for that.

“Where are they now?” You slipped the sunglasses from the top of your head over your eyes, getting a view inside the monument at the crumbling elevator that would have meant certain death for all occupants if it weren’t for Peter.

“Their bus has departed and is heading back to Midtown, parents have been informed and sent to meet them.” The AI informed you.

“Is Peter on the bus?” You asked, worried.

“Traffic cameras confirm Peter Parker is on board.” She confirmed, and you hung your head in relief. You took one more look around the scene through your tech glasses as two firefighters moved to stand next to you.

“Shit’s crazy, five more seconds and those kids wouldn’t have made it.” They spoke to each other, and you quickly turned and rushed back to your car to make the trip back upstate. You knew what you had to do.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

It was dark when you finally arrived. You saw the bus with kids greeting their parents. They were milling about as a teacher was unloading luggage from the bus. You saw Peter leaning against the brick of the school building as May talked to other parents. Coming from around the corner behind him, you grabbed onto his arm and pulled him backwards, immediately wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug.

He remained frozen for a second, before recognizing your signature scent and hugging you back. You pulled away quickly, keeping your hands on the side of his arms as you scolded him.

“What the hell were you thinking?” You scolded.

“I-” He tried.

“You hacked my suit! You turned off the tracker.” You seethed.

“I-”

“I don’t know how you got into Damage Control, you tampered with federal property and a federal investigation.” You waved your hand in anger.

“I-” he tried once more.

“God Peter, I was so scared,” You hugged him again, “Don’t do that to me again.”

“I’m sorry.” He finally said, as you pulled away and he could see the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“I can’t do this.” you admitted.

“Do what?” Peter asked, furrowing his brow.

“It’s been killing me, trying to stay away from you. I just- I want to be with you, I don’t care what happens.” You shook your head, letting a stray tear fall down your cheek.

“What about your father?” He asked, as his thumb gently came up to wipe the tear away.

“He’ll understand. The plan worked, we just have to be more careful.” You grabbed his hand to reassure him.

“You just can’t be seen with Spider-Man.” He nodded.

“But I can be seen with Peter Parker.” You smiled.

“What about Harley?” He asked, causing you to let go of his hand in surprise of the question.

“Harley? What about him?” You asked, confused.

“I thought you two were-” Peter began.

“Oh no, no. He’s a friend. He knows dad, it’s a long story. We’re hiring him.” You chuckled slightly.

“Oh.” Peter nodded, feeling dumb for assuming.

“Jealousy isn't a good look on you.” You teased.

“I just.” He shrugged, smiling and giving up. He laughed at his own assumption.

“Happy Birthday by the way, I’m sorry I missed it.” You said, it had killed you not being able to send him a message on the day almost two weeks ago now.

“That’s ok.” He smiled, taking your hand once more.

“I may know how I can make it up to you.” You smirked.

“How’s that?” He asked, knowing what it might be. You leaned in to kiss him, as you felt him smile into the kiss. You’d both missed this. Something just felt right whenever you were together.

You smiled as you pulled away to look at him in the moonlight, you stared into his eyes like it was the first time.

“I have a gala next week, come with me?” You asked, with a hopeful smile.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Peter raised a brow with the tilt of his head.

“Lucky for you, it has a masquerade theme.” You smiled.

“Lucky me.” He smirked, moving his fingers through your hair to the back of your head to pull you into a kiss once more. The both of you were so lost in the moment that you didn’t see someone coming around the corner.

“Peter? Oh-” Aunt May stopped as her eyes landed on the two of you. You quickly pulled apart, you could feel your cheeks begin to blush in embarrassment.

“Oh- uh, hi Ms. Parker.” You stuttered, your finger brushing your lip slightly before holding your hands behind your back.

“Hi Y/N.” She smirked, looking to Peter. She had known that he liked you, but she never expected to find the two of you like this.

“I should- probably- uh.” You pointed towards your car, looking back between Peter and May, nodding and taking a step towards the car.

“Y/N.” May called.

“Yes.” You turned back around with a smile.

“Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow?” She asked with a smile.

“Tomorrow?” You glanced at Peter, who’s eyes went wide in embarrassment, you smiled, “I’ll be there.” you nodded, you did owe him a raincheck.

As you turned and walked back towards the car you heard them whispering to each other, causing you to smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” May giggled to Peter.

“Shh... May.” Peter whined, causing her to giggle once more.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Taglist in the reblog, link in my masterlist in my bio to join it

[overwatchworks]

Unwelcome Meetings:

The gunslinger’s eyes locked on an old picture, worn at the edges, tape barely holding it to the wall. 

Winston’s agent completion ceremony with the old gang. Him, Genji, Reinhardt and Ana on one side. Angela, Lena, Torbjörn, and Jack on the other. Gabe facing away from the camera in the far corner. So much had changed.

There was a haze in the air, silence so quiet it was loud. Too loud. Jesse didn’t like it. He glanced at Genji, eyes partially hidden by his hat. The ninja’s lights were dimmed slightly by the dust around them, green casting a visible line through the air. Even through the mask, Jesse felt Genji’s gaze meet his own. 

It was all too familiar, this sense of unease, foreboding. Waiting in the shadows. 

Overwatch had sent Genji and Jesse to investigate an old Blackwatch hideout. The reasoning was obvious; they were the only two operatives that had specific knowledge on the place, Jesse especially. He had been there many times, the little building tucked into an unassuming corner of California, just inside Death Valley. Was one of the few Reyes trusted enough to take with him to check on things. 

Lots of dirty secrets were hidden in files there underground, stored in places Jesse had snuck in to back when he snooped around just a little to much. A file concerning the events in Rialto was what they were after. Sure, Overwatch had a copy, but they didn’t have the Blackwatch commander’s version of it. 

The one with the full truth. The version Jesse had heard only once from the commander himself, and never repeated to anyone. He wasn’t sure if he ever would.

“Come on, it’s this way.” Jesse murmured, tugging on the brim of his hat and continuing forward. Genji followed without a word. 

The ninja had been quieter than usual, contemplative. Jesse could say the same about himself. Blackwatch was a touchy subject for everyone. This mission they had been sent on rubbed Jesse the wrong way. Everything felt out of place. 

After a few more minutes of pensive silence, the two paused, sliding down to the lowest dip of a large dune. It went further into a canyon, evening sunlight filtering through the holes above them.

“You search left, I will go right.” Genji offered, cybernetic hands sliding over the sandstone carefully as he moved. The cowboy nodded, following the rock wall and stepping lightly. 

A flicker of light caught Jesse’s eye. Something had moved further in the canyon. Jesse set his hand on Peacekeeper in her holster, thumb circling the textured grip.

“Gen...”

“Here!”

Genji made a soft grunt as he twisted something on the ground, a handle popping up. He pulled on it, revealing a staircase that lit up as soon as he stepped down on it carefully.

“Welcome back, Agent Shimada.” A gentle voice greeted, Jesse joining Genji after sweeping the area once more.

“It can still read my biosignature...?” Genji murmured almost to himself, the gunslinger patting his shoulder as he passed and began walking down the staircase.

“Darlin’, our biosignature is in their databases forever. They ain’t forgetting who belongs to them.”

“Agent McCree, welcome.”

“Good to hear from you again, Eris.”

“Likewise.” The voice hummed. It was an AI model made before Athena, but it had almost the same capabilities. Programmed for Blackwatch instead of Overwatch. 

Holoscreens lit up the room the staircase led down to once Jesse stepped into it, head tilting at all the displays.

“Not much has changed.”

“I have kept everything in perfect condition as per request of Commander Reyes since the last transmission I received seven and a half years ago.” Eris informed them, Jesse’s jaw tightening.

“Yeah.”

“Is there anything I can help you find?” Eris continued when the cowboy said nothing else, Genji moving closer behind him.

“We need a physical file. Could you unlock the access panel to the vault for us?” Genji asked. Jesse went to a desk in the corner, sliding a hand through the dust.

“Of course. Give me just a moment.”

“Thank you, Eris.”

The gunslinger’s eyes locked on an old picture, worn at the edges, tape barely holding it to the wall. 

Winston’s agent completion ceremony with the old gang. Him, Genji, Reinhardt and Ana on one side. Angela, Lena, Torbjörn, and Jack on the other. Gabe facing away from the camera in the far corner. So much had changed.

Genji set his hands on the desk, leaning his weight into them.

“That was a good day. One of the fonder memories I have of that time.” Genji murmured, Jesse sighing.

“Yeah. It was nice.”

“Jesse...”

“I know. It’s just hard to look at it without thinkin’ of all the people we lost. And the ones we got back...They ain’t quite the same. Hell, we aren’t even the same.”

“Perhaps that is a good thing. Perhaps we needed a change.”

“Maybe.” Jesse shrugged noncommittally. Genji set his hand on the gunslinger’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“I have unlocked the vault.” Eris called. 

Jesse shook himself out of memories, focusing on the task at hand. He and Genji went to the far side of the room, a door opening for them. File cabinets lined the newly revealed area, smelling somewhat musty.

“Do you know where it could be?” Genji asked, clearly disgruntled at the many lines of cabinets.

“I know they’re sorted by dates, so...Guess we just start checkin’?”

“Ugh...I hate old school files...”

“Some of this stuff can’t be trusted on anythin�� but paper, yanno? It’s the only thing that can’t be hacked.”

“I know, but it makes our lives in this specific scenario we happen to be in a whole lot more difficult.”

“Where’s all that patience you learned up in Nepal?” Jesse teased with a laugh, Genji pulling open a drawer and sifting through it.

“I have plenty, when the work is not boring.” The ninja muttered, Jesse smiling and shaking his head. 

His fingers slid over manila tabs with scratchy writing of dates and names, none of which he needed. Another drawer was opened, another set of files giving him nothing. Genji sighed after about ten minutes, the sound of paper shifting accompanying it.

“These are mostly agent files and insignificant mission reports.”

“Then move on to the next ones.”

“I’m trying to find ours!” Genji huffed, tossing the files on top of the cabinet and bending at the waist to scan more.

“There ain’t nothin’ on those we don’t already know about each other.”

“I want to see my unedited medical reports.”

Jesse raised a brow, turning to Genji as the ninja tapped a drawer closed and opened another.

“You’ve never seen those?”

“Have you?”

“Well, no. There’s lots of black lines on all the medical reports, no matter what.”

“On Ziegler’s, yes. She is bound by Overwatch protocol, and I am not about to break into one of their vaults. I want to see if O’Deorain made any files.”

“O’Deorain ain’t one I’d trust.” Jesse grumbled, wrinkling his nose a bit. He’d always thought hiring her was a mistake.

“Maybe not, but I do not doubt her intellect. And, this is the only vault I’ll be seeing for a long time. Who knows what I could find.” Genji shrugged, flipping through some papers. Jesse pressed his lips into a line, going to a new cabinet.

“It’d be nice if we could actually find what we’re here for. All these damn files are startin’ to blend together on me.”

A hum from Genji was the only answer he got, the gunslinger blinking hard to keep his eyes from tiring too much. These jobs weren’t quite his specialty. Jesse scrunched up his lips, teeth absently gritting against one another instead of the cigar he usually had to chew on. 

His metal hand brushed over some labels, nearly missing one that was filed incorrectly, hidden by the one in front of it. The cowboy pulled it up, brows furrowing. It didn’t have a date, only a label.

Venice Incident.

Jesse opened the folder, eyes scanning over the documents. Media coverage, pictures, mission reports, the recorded interrogation of Reyes afterwards. A hand-written report was on the back of that one.

Log report 707,

Venice was a failure. Antonio eliminated. 

I should have thought through things first, but he was right. There was no point in taking him in, I knew that from the beginning. Killing Antonio was the only way to unequivocally remove him from the equation. I know Overwatch is only going to hear what it wants to, so I let them do just that. Didn’t bother defending myself, it wouldn’t have mattered. Things will inevitably get fixed, covered up, go back to normal. 

But what happens when they can’t do that anymore? What will they do then? Another massive cover up? Another ploy to lead things back to normal, to lull the world back into a false sense of peace? Jack can’t answer those questions yet, but I can. 

It’s going to have to end soon. We’re only making it worse by trying to clean up the world. It doesn’t need us anymore. The Omnic Crisis is over. But Talon will eventually rise, I can see it happening already. 

I have my doubts about the way things are going, the things I’m having to do for Blackwatch now. But what more can we do? What more can I do? The world is changing, and it’s going to leave Overwatch and the people involved in it behind. I only hope they can see it too, before it’s too late.

Jesse swallowed thickly, the paper shaking slightly in his hands. Reyes’ voice in his head, a distant memory; when he sat Jesse down in his office, telling him these same things, to leave while he could, before the whole thing fell apart. 

Echoes of the past.

“Genji, I found it.” Jesse managed to say, the ninja looking up sharply.

“You did?”

The gunslinger held up the folder, Genji setting his own aside and walking over.

“This is his account of the—”

“Agents, I am detecting a disturbance in the stairwell.” Eris suddenly interrupted. Jesse immediately drew his gun, Genji sinking into a lower stance.

“We were followed?! How?” The ninja hissed, hand on his wakazashi. 

Jesse cursed under his breath, taking whatever papers he could from the folder and tucking them into a spare ammunition pack on his belt.

“I had a feelin’ we weren’t alone...Just figured no one would know what the hell we were doin’. Hardly anyone knew about this place.” He muttered darkly, thumbing back the hammer of his revolver as he walked forward cautiously. 

Genji followed close behind him, silent save for the sleek sound of metal sliding into his fingers as his shruiken slipped into place. Something clattered in the main room, Jesse’s finger tightening minutely on the trigger.

“We know you’re there. Just come quietly, and we won’t shoot on sight.” He called.

“Agent McCree, I am not quite detecting any signs of life.” Eris alerted him, voice quieter, almost unsure.

“What do you mean, ‘not quite’?”

“It is...Not a biosignature I have been programmed to recognize. It is not even a true biosignature.”

“So what is it?” Genji growled, Jesse’s blood chilling at the twisted laugh that echoed around the room. 

A shadow-like fog drifted through the doorway, swirling behind Jesse and Genji both before solidifying into a shape. A mask. Bone-white and carved like a barn owl. The thing was draped in black, clawed hands forming and gripping two massive shotguns.

“I’ve been asking that same question for a long time.”

It had a scratchy, echoing voice, deeper and more guttural than any Jesse had heard before. He held Peacekeeper up, arm unwavering, eyes narrowing. He knew this creature.

“So, this is the Reaper.”

“Always so blunt, aren’t you, McCree.” It rumbled, Jesse’s lip curling.

“How do you know my name?”

“I know a whole lot more than you think. Now, I need a certain little file hidden in here, so get out, or I’ll kill you both.”

“We are not going anywhere! You are the one trespassing.” Genji snapped, wakizashi catching the light as he unsheathed it slightly.

“I said, leave.” Reaper repeated, shotguns raising to point right at their heads.

“We ain’t movin’. These files can’t get into Talon’s hands.”

There was a deep sigh like a rumbling growl, before the ear-shattering blast of the shotguns went off. Jesse dove to the side as Genji deflected, already moving around Reaper. The gunslinger went opposite of Genji, Reaper turning to follow his movements. 

Jesse reached for a flashbang, but the shotgun went off again, blowing it from his metal hand. It exploded, the flash making Jesse stumble, blinking rapidly as his ears rang. He vaguely heard another three shots go off, then a shout of pain. The cowboy shook his head as his vision came back, the outline of everything still just a little too bright. 

He raised his gun, then froze as he saw where Genji was. Hands gripping Reaper’s wrist, those claws tightening around his neck, holding him off the ground. Reaper’s free hand was holding a shotgun towards Jesse.

“Let him go!” Jesse seethed, that laugh echoing softer, more sinister.

“You have the same tricks you always had, Shimada. Too predictable. You both are.” Reaper murmured, grip tightening on Genji. It forced a choked sound from him, fingers scrabbling at Reaper’s arm.

“Let him go, or I swear to god I’ll put a bullet through that fucking mask.”

“Oh? And risk me shooting him?” Reaper cackled, turning the shotgun to press against Genji’s stomach. Jesse lowered his arm slightly.

“Jesse, just—Go!” Genji grit out, the gunslinger’s glare never leaving Reaper’s mask.

“I ain’t leavin’ you, ever. What do you want, Reaper? I’ll let you have it if you let him go.”

“I just needed access to this vault, it doesn’t work for me anymore. Funnily enough, I also heard about two special ex-Blackwatch operatives that had been sent to do just that.” Reaper sneered. Jesse’s eyes flicked to Genji, his struggles weakening.

“‘Anymore’? The hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I thought I taught you better than this, ingrate.”

Jesse’s brow slackened, cotton filling his ears as laughter filled the room, his arm falling back to his side. It should have been obvious. The mannerisms, the fighting style, the way of speech. Jesse knew them all too well, just didn’t want to believe it.

“Gabe...?” He whispered, eyes wide, feeling vulnerable in a way he hadn’t since he was seventeen, tied up by Blackwatch in Deadlock Gorge.

“Not anymore.” Reaper growled, finger tightening on his shotgun. The blast was louder than all the others to Jesse’s ears, a spray of red mixed with black splattering on the ground, Genji joining it as he was dropped. 

The gunslinger could only watch, time not moving the way it was supposed to. Reaper walked towards him, Jesse unable to see anything but how he had the same stride as Gabe. How he held his shotgun the same as it leveled with the cowboy’s face again.

“Last chance. Take Shimada and leave. Don’t try anything sneaky, or he’ll bleed out before you can get him back to your base in time.”

Jesse stared up at him, the blank mask, the barrel of the shotgun. He nodded numbly. Following orders, just like he used to. Body moving on autopilot while his mind was still stuck in the past. 

Jesse went to Genji, picking him up with an arm around his waist, the other keeping Genji’s arm over his shoulder. He could hear the ninja’s voice, but the words escaped him. Only the slightly robotic hum as he left the bunker.

“We need evac, now.”

His own voice this time, calm and quiet. Jesse didn’t recognize it.

“Copy that, drop ship is inbound. ETA five minutes.”

“Jesse.”

He blinked slowly, staring straight ahead as he trudged up the sand dune.

“Jesse, wait.”

So much like Deadlock Gorge. 

Jesse stopped, breathing unevenly. Genji placed a hand on his chest, visor tilted up at him.

“Are you okay...?” The ninja asked softly. Far to concerned about him considering his own state. 

Jesse’s eyes dropped to the sand at his feet, the way the grains shifted over his boots with the faint breeze. His vision swam.

“I...Don’t know.”

-

Just a graze. That’s what Dr. Ziegler had said, just a graze. The healing should have gone faster, but the wounds lingered. No one knew why. Genji was confined to bed, though, he was able to at least stay in his own. Jesse hardly left his side. 

Neither spoke of what had happened at the end of their meeting with Reaper, not yet. Jesse wasn’t ready, and Genji stayed quiet for his sake. It had been two days. Jesse had closed himself off, keeping his thoughts and feelings hidden, clutched to his chest. Fragile. 

The ninja was laying in bed, a bored look on his face as he stared at the ceiling. All his armour was off, just the smooth synth skin and bits of metal that couldn’t be removed left. Jesse’s fingers traced over the scars on his right arm absently, eyes not really focused on anything in particular.

“Jesse, we should talk about this.” Genji suddenly spoke up. His voice was gentle, but firm at the same time. Jesse knew the tone, the one that meant he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He sighed quietly.

“I know...”

“You’ve hardly said a word to me since we got back.”

“I know.”

“So talk to me. It doesn’t have to be everything, but you need to let those thoughts out. I want to help.”

“I know!” Jesse snapped, closing his eyes and taking a little breath before softening.

“I-I know, darlin’.”

Genji sat up with a slight wince, turning to face Jesse, legs crossing. He took the cowboy’s hands in his own, thumbs rubbing little circles over the backs of them.

“You are not alone anymore, Jesse. I am here for you.”

That simple promise cracked the foundations of the wall Jesse had put up, making it all too easy to topple. Tears slid down his cheeks, unbidden, his hands shaking in Genji’s grasp. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, his sharp inhale too loud in the otherwise silent room.

“Gen...It was him. I-It was Gabe. He’s alive, he’s still out there—!” Jesse’s voice cut off with a choked sound, Genji squeezing his hands. Waiting patiently. Jesse was thankful for it.

“I thought...We all thought he’d died. They—We lost so many...But him, of all people. Reaper. He’s Reaper. Has been this whole time, Gen, he’s with fucking Talon! I never thought—He would never. Gabe was...”

“He was the best man I ever knew, why has he turned into this...Wraith? A murderer. A traitor, of all things! I don’t understand what happened to him! There’s so much I regret not doing for him, and now, seeing that he’s alive, that he’s workin’ against us...” Jesse trailed off, wiping his eyes quickly. 

The swirl of emotion inside him was too thick to make much sense of. He truly didn’t know how to feel. Sorrow, maybe? Betrayal, yes, there was some of that. Hurt. An odd sense of relief. Fear, even.

“I was not as close to him as you were, but I know that is not the man we knew. Whatever happened to him, it changed him. He is Reaper now, and we must treat him like that. An enemy. He wants to kill us.”

“He didn’t, though. He had us both in point blank range, but he didn’t shoot.”

“I’m pretty sure he shot me, Jess.” Genji frowned, gesturing to his stomach, still wrapped in bandages.

“No, I mean, he didn’t shoot to kill. If he wanted us dead, we would have been dead. He took us both out like that,” Jesse snapped his fingers to illustrate, brows furrowing.

“But he didn’t kill us.”

“It’s not him, Jesse.”

“He let us go! He recognized us—”

“Jesse.”

Genji’s hands went to Jesse’s shoulders, dark eyes steeped in gold boring into his own.

“That is not Reyes. Reyes died in that explosion, and Reaper is what crawled from the remains.”

Jesse looked away, lips pressing together tightly. He knew Genji was right, but there was a part of him that wanted to believe Reyes was still there. A part of him that still dared to hope. 

Genji’s brows furrowed, reading the gunslinger’s eyes.

“Not believing it will only hurt you more in the end. And I am tired of seeing you hurting. You deserve to heal, to be content.” Genji told him, pressing a kiss to Jesse’s fingers, stubble scratching them lightly. 

The cowboy cupped Genji’s cheek, leaning in to press their foreheads together.

“I just wish things had been different...”

“As do I. But lamenting about the past will not help the future.”

“Yeah...Where’d you get all this wisdom?”

Genji smiled softly, humming.

“Mm, Zenyatta truly works wonders.”

Jesse chuckled quietly, pressing a kiss to Genji’s lips. The cowboy then let his head sink to Genji’s shoulder, resting in the crook of his neck. Genji toyed with his hair with one hand, the other still holding Jesse’s in his lap, fingers laced.

It was quiet for a few minutes, Jesse’s thoughts not a complete jumble for the first time since Reaper revealed himself. There was still a pressing matter, though.

“We need to tell the team.” He mumbled, Genji’s hand halting its movement.

“Yes, we do. But I want you to just rest tonight, Jesse. We can figure that out tomorrow.”

Jesse nodded. Genji leaned back, taking them both down to the mattress, Jesse careful of his wounds. He was tired, and the next day was sure to be another difficult one. 

But for tonight, Jesse felt he could rest a little easier.

~~

[phinnsyreads]

Site-12, Monday Morning. 4:00. January 11th, 2025. Containment area of SCP-5200

Researcher Boyd closed the hatch behind him, and turned to face the containment vault’s occupant. Boyd thought he looked like an old fashioned tramp, complete with bindle and permanent five o’clock shadow. But yesterday he’d looked like a wino, and the day before a washed-up boxer. This look wasn’t new.

Boyd sat down across from the entity, and pulled an empty manila envelope out of his jacket. “They told me that you wanted to talk.”

SCP-5200 pulled itself up to the table, and grinned a toothy smile. “Ahyup. You’ve all been gettin’ anxious about the dreamer, right?”

“Perhaps.” Boyd turned the envelope over in his hands. “What do you know about it?”

SCP-5200 let out a long sigh, and leaned back in his chair. “Boy, you eggheads sure get to the point quick. If I’m going to tell you that, I’ll need to let you know how the world got started out.”

Boyd frowned. SCP-5200 was known for spinning stories to distract from having to answer questions. Usually, it was best to play along until it could be coerced into giving a definite answer.

“Fine. But be quick about it, we don’t have all week.”

SCP-5200 chuckled. “You don’t know how right you are, chuck.”

He pulled a crumpled cigarette from his jacket, and placed it in his mouth. “Okay, okay… so the first thing that happened, was we had the two forces of the universe. Greeks had it on point, y’know? It was the music, and the dreams.”

Boyd nodded, drumming his fingers on his thigh beneath the table.

“So’s they banged, y’know, and they made the world. But, they didn’t fill in all the space, because you can’t fill in nothing forever. There’s a little bit left over from the days gone by.”

Boyd nodded, and pulled a notebook from his jacket pocket, pretending to take note of what SCP-5200 was saying.

“So that’s why this third rock from fun has all the craziness pulled to it like that shit’s on rails. It’s a storage depot for the unknowable. Would’ve worked like a breeze if you guys hadn’t busted up the lock.”

“It was more like a jar.”

“Whatever, chuck. That’s just how you made the smoker’s stupid dream witchery true. When those two kid’s get together, nothing’s gonna be able to stop them. Not even flipping things around one more time.”

“I don’t understand a word you’re saying.” Boyd put the notebook away, and stood up. “If you don’t have anything else to add to your story, I think we’re done.”

SCP-5200 held out a hand. “Wait, sit down a second. There is something I want to give you.”

Boyd stopped at the hatch. “What?”

SCP-5200 reached into its own jacket, and pulled out the manila envelope. “Here’s what a few people have said.”

The envelope is tossed, picked up, examined, and stuffed into a pocket.

Boyd exited the hatch, locking it behind him. Briskly, he set off towards the Records and Information wing, for debriefing and transcription of the interview.

First Document: Unusual Incidents Unit. (A case file.)

UIU File 1976-34, Case File Pluto’s Front Door

— Summary: Possible portal or slate that causes immediate death upon contact.

Description and Capabilities:

— Name: Object of Note, Black Portal — Irregularity Cross-reference: destructive, transport?, immobile, locale — Physical Description: A cave in North Dakota, which has an entrance in the form of a flat, non-reflective black wall. Wall is immobile, and does not respond to provocation. Causes immediate death on contact. — Capabilities: Does not move, or take any initiative. When touched, causes objects and persons to be pulled into it, and disappear. — Purpose: Possibly a trap, naturally occurring anomaly, or misunderstood aspect of nature. — Behavior: No behavior. Object not believed to be living.

Evidence:

— Exhibit A: The object. No evidence related to case 1976-34 has been located other than the object itself.

Bureau Record:

— Current Status: Currently noted, with light guards. Due to remoteness of location, chances of being discovered are slim. — History of UIU Action: Discovered in 1976, by a US geological survey. Turned over to the UIU shortly thereafter, and secured since then. Very little action has taken place since then, other than the tragic loss of Agent Brom to the object when he mistakenly came into contact with it while doing field work at the location.

Second Document: Dr. Wondertainment. (An email.)

DEAR MISTER RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR:

We regret to inform you that your toy proposal has been rejected, for failing to meet the following criteria:

— Deadly to adults, animals, children, and pre-children. This violates the Wondertainment Super-Safety guarantee. — Fun factor, after vigorous testing, has been rated at 0.0. — Does not have market viability for future additions or innovations, due to being 100% fatal to the consumer. — Unpackageable.

Thank you for your interest in DOCTOR WONDERTAINMENT and we hope to see you innovating again soon!

Third Document: The Factory. (An invoice.)

SHIPPING ORDER: 10,000. Bulk distribution. PAYMENT: PAID IN FULL, PRODUCT NOT DELIVERED. ACTION: Relationship with distributor discontinued.

Fourth Document: Prometheus Labs. (A grant request form.)

PROBLEM The Prometheus Labs physics lab has proven the existence of an object which could be used to dispose of any type of matter harmlessly, at little to no cost past the initial investment to find the object.

SOLUTION In order to locate it, the Prometheus labs team would need additional funding to dedicate most of their mathematicians to this purpose.

BUSINESS CASE Once located, Prometheus Labs will save massively on the disposal of high-risk materials that would otherwise need special handling procedures in order to nullify or put out of sight and mind.

USE OF FUNDING Currently, the only need for funding is the researcher salaries to give them the time to find a more precise location of this object they have only just proven to exist. Further costs can be estimated once the object is located.

KNOWN ISSUES It may not be possible to reach and return the object within the lifetime of any current employee of the Prometheus Labs corporation.

Fifth Document: The Chaos Insurgency. (A command brief.)

WARNING: DELTA COMMAND EYES ONLY!

DeCIRO Catalogue Number: SC-55/2024

Document Type: Step Compilation

Dates Received: 09-18-1955 through 09-18-2024

Operation Status: Open

Foreword: This object is to never come into the hands of the Insurgency. All steps to secure Site-12, the Foundation location of the object, are critical to maintain. These security procedures are to be kept secret from the SCP Foundation.

Hereafter we of Delta Command document the Steps of the Plan as transcribed by the Engineer of the Chaos Insurgency.

1. STEP [55/6]

Security parameters, such as entrenching in the surrounding countryside, have been enacted. Anomalous countermeasures have been placed in the uninhabited areas surrounding Site-12, which, due to its remote location, is not accessed or widely known by persons outside the Foundation and Insurgency. Further measures to be taken as the situation around Site-12 changes.

2. STEP [24/88]

The Foundation appears to be losing control of some of their frontier sites, due to the remoteness of their location and the containment difficulties suffered by that organization over the years. Efforts must be taken to preserve the security of Site-12, including by capturing the Site, intact, and handing it over to another group which has more stability, such as the Global Occult Coalition.

Sixth Document: Herman Fuller’s Circus of the Disquieting. (A quote.)

You want us to add what to the act? – W.G 

Seventh Document: Groups of Interest “HI” “GOTBG” “5”. (A report.)

MEMORANDUM TO SITE DIRECTOR STONE

We currently believe that the research object has been written about in the scripture for various religious groups dealing with paranormal activity.

They refer to it unanimously in terminology that describe it as “empty”, and at times like a portal to their underworlds or similar theological concepts. Descriptions generally refer to it as all black, and hostile.

The similarities to the research objects are obvious. As such, we should take precaution against any word of this entity being held, as it may incur an attack by these organizations.

Therefore, we recommend that the currently in-construction Site-12 be selected as the location for the entity, due to its remote location and high security.

Colonel Ritts American Secure Containment Initiative

Eighth Document: Are we cool yet? (An art caption.)

Title: Much Ado About Nothing

Materials Used: The piece itself is singular, having been created by the artist and using a method which has not been disclosed, for artistic reasons. It is unique, and the artist does not recommend attempting to replicate it.

Abstract: A black star composed of a non-reflective, anomalous material. When touched, pulls the user into an undisclosed location in deep space. The person is not recoverable, so viewers are recommended to bring secondary entities if they wish to view the contact-making portion of the piece. Should be displayed behind glass, on a white pedestal with a small porthole to allow for direct contact with the object.

Intent: The piece was created as a commentary on how really and totally alone we are in this universe. You can find yourself in any location out there in the cosmos, and you’re not going to catch a ride. You’ll be by yourself, until you die. That's what awaits us up there.

Note: I can’t really display this thing anymore. It’s cool, but nobody really seems to want to look at it. Gonna store it till we can find a use for it.

Ninth Document. (A handwritten notebook page.)

Shadow Child.

Aliases: Shadow Person, Chip, Corpo, Nobody. Note: doesn’t seem to be a nobody. More nothing.

Summary: A being repelled by light, and made of shadows. Very dangerous. Consumes everything in path.

Threat: High. Difficult to avoid all shadows.

Interest: Possible attempt to fish me out:

1. Follows, tracks, and finds me with alarming regularity. 2. No constant physical form. 3. Does not live. 4. Older than oldish dirt.

I can’t explain it. Perhaps it’s a case of the town not being big enough for two. This thing is (or these things are) to be avoided and help sought out to avoid it (or them).

Foundation or other collectors may be able to keep it at bay or remove it. Thing is very old; may have evolved past destructibility.

Location: Unknown. Following me, so it’s close to me.

[Two images are included. The first is an attached photograph of the shadow person described. The second is a sketch on the notebook page itself of a man wearing a Cold War era business suit seated on a park bench by a lake. He calmly looks on as a mushroom cloud rises from beyond the horizon. On the line beneath is written “related?” with an arrow pointing to the man.]

Site-12, Sunday Evening. 6:00. January 17th, 2025. Containment area of SCP-5200

“How did you get these documents?”

SCP-5200 leaned back, shaking his shackles. “You know, this isn’t what I hoped you would think of them.”

Boyd didn’t respond, choosing instead to tap his pencil against the clipboard and raise a single eyebrow. None of the usual dodging of inquiry and cat-and-mouse would be tolerated today.

“Man… I’m just trying to help you guys. You know that you’re coming up on the number. You’ve got the child, but you don’t understand it.”

“What’s there to understand?”

“It wants… to turn the clock back. To suck up everything with the taint of the original flaw, the big glitch, that acts as your job security.” SCP-5200 attempted to wipe his nose on his sleeve, but the chains didn’t allow enough mobility. His face twisted as he suppressed a sneeze.

Boyd narrowed his eyes, and made a note. “How do you know? Why are you helping us? You could easily be trying to undermine us.”

“I know because that’s the whole reason I exist. I was made specifically for this moment, right here. For you to find me, and for me to help you out when the time came.”

“Who sent you?”

“Every-frickin’-body that doesn’t want to die when this thing starts knuckling down, dummy. There’s a lot of vested interest in existing for a lot of people.”

SCP-5200 leaned forwards from backwards, and began to whisper. “And, off the record, you guys need the help.”

“What do they know about the object?”

SCP-5200 groaned, and attempted to rub its brow. “Have you not been listening at all? Look. It’s gonna change into something much, much closer to how it originally was. That’s the deal. That’s what you need to prepare for. When that starts, you’ll need to play all your cards right to keep it from going back to how it likes things: non-existent.”

Boyd’s brow creased slightly, as he took more notes. “So, if you’re here to help, do you know what to do if it’s starting?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, chuck. From my end, this is all she, he, and they wrote. Hope y’all don’t die.”

[Narrated by @ryanvoid]

[gravitationallychallengedrabbits]

The Gay Agenda Ch. 2

Step Two: How to Make Friends With Pretty Girls Without being awkward

So I found out a few weeks later through the normal gossip chains that the girl who my shopping cart had tried to murder a few weeks prior had transferred to my school. Apparently her family had moved here from the upper part of the States to California; specifically to my part of California. Not that I owned a specific part of California, my bank account would laugh at me and jump off a cliff.

The whole school was buzzing; the cheer squad wondered if she was any good at vaulting, the teachers hoped she was a good student, and the boys (those who paid attention or even cared) hoped she was nice to look at.

She didn’t show up until two weeks after the rumor had circulated, which made everyone wonder if that’s what it was - just another rumor. I didn’t really believe it either. Mostly because there was no way that she was coming to our school. At this point, I would have convinced myself that the whole incident at the store was a hallucination, if it weren’t for the huge bruise on my arm and elbow. It still hurt to bend.

Despite that, she didn’t seem like the type to stay in one place for too long. I’m not sure why I knew this, just that I did. There was something in the way she walked and talked and dressed - completely different from this sub-par suburban area.

It wasn’t as if she had been unnaturally beautiful; in fact, she had looked like any other ordinary girl. Dark hair, pretty eyes, darker complexion. She was wearing jeans, green converse, her hair pulled into a ponytail. I had no idea why I couldn’t get her out of my head. I wanted to be her friend. I wanted to gush about her to everyone - but I was sure my boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate that. He was the jealous type.

Why did she even bother me so much, anyways? I shouldn’t have cared so much. I mean, sure, I did crash into her with the dignity of a goose in a windstorm, but whatever.

Back to the rumor thing. Nobody seemed to care after a week or two when she didn’t show up, until the day that she did. Imagine my surprise when I walked into Chemistry to see her sitting up front beside one of the cheerleaders, Chelsea. They were talking, Chelsea gesturing animatedly while Vanessa smiled politely.

The boys, it seemed, had the same idea as Chelsea. Or, roughly the same idea. I didn’t get the impression that she was implicitly into Vanessa, but that might have only been because her boyfriend was a giant and a senior who practically oozed testosterone. All of the boys were giving their best efforts at flirting. Vanessa, on the other hand, didn’t seem to openly realize this. But that only gave them more ammo. It resulted in flexing muscles, jutting chins, and giving her smiles that more resembled leers than actual smiles.

For a moment, I was jealous of their effortless proximity, which was making my face do something weird. It was like I was sucking a lemon. There were so many lemons in my face at the moment. Why was I jealous? Ugh. I had only run the girl over, it didn’t matter. She probably didn’t even remember me.

I shoulder my bag, walking to the front of the class to ask about an assignment I needed to make up, going about my business. As you do. All I had to do was turn around and make it to my seat, suffer through another day of school, and then I could be done.

But when I walk past the flock of boys, she looks up at me, at me, and smiles so brightly that God must’ve used a supernova to create this woman. “Eden Marie Jones.” She says, in that amused tone she’d had at the grocery store only a couple days ago.

“Hi,” I stop in my tracks and wave awkwardly. The boys look up at me like I had grown four more heads, or maybe I had shown up wearing a potato sack as clothes. I hadn’t, had I? A quick pat to the hair insures that, no, I only had the one head, and yeah, I was still wearing my normal leggings-and-sweater ensemble.

Before she could answer me with more than a smile, the teacher claps his thick, beefy hands together. “Alright, alright. Calm down, kids. Take your seats and we can start role.”

The boys give me evil looks for taking up their precious time, Chelsea gives me a cheerful smile, and class disperses. It takes me a moment to figure out what I was doing, but I get to my seat eventually.

Chemistry was usually uneventful, except  this was the rare occasion that something new had happened to the school. In this case, it was Vanessa. During what was supposed to be lab-taking and note-writing (when our teacher left the room to go flirt with the married secretary, under the pretense of making copies), the boys left their seats to chat Vanessa up again.

To be completely honest, the lot of them looked like strutting roosters. Ridiculous and awkward. I watch a moment, turning back to my work after a bit. It reminded me of my boyfriend when he was with all of his friends.

However hard they tried, Vanessa was too busy playing on her phone or flipping through the textbook. I admired that. Besides, a lot of these boys had girlfriends, or acted like they owned the world with their snapbacks and sagging pants.

Their antics continued for a while until it was obvious she wasn’t gonna spare them any time or even look up. The class was pretty quiet after that.

At the end of the day I went home and still couldn’t get her off my mind. If anything, her being in the same class as I was only made things worse. I don’t know what it was, but the sheer gravity of her was yanking me in, and I found myself thinking like a desperate kid who wants to be best friends with their favorite singer when they grow up. Except, she was a real person.

Honestly, though, I don’t even know how I’d talk to her. Language wasn’t my thing. That’s why my boyfriend and I got along most times. He talked, I listened, and that was that. Most of the time. I stood up for myself a lot.

However, befriending people was going to have to become a strong suit so I didn’t turn into some awkward, creepy kid who stared longingly at someone and hoping they would notice them. This wasn’t terrible fanfiction written by an emotional sixth grader.

⤐♡⬷

I couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning in bed was worse than lying awake. For one thing, your body hurts a ton after moving so much. Second, my cat was an eternal flame of anger and rage because my legs were moving and she wasn’t happy about it. For the record, a sore body and bitten toes are not a great way to fall asleep.

Why was I so restless, you ask? You probably already know the answer to that, because my life is full of predictable twists and turns.

I was so frustrated. How hard was it to be asleep? We could think about other things, brain! We can have better dreams, brain! Just go to sleep. Please. Please. I’m begging you. I will do anything.

At this point, I was even willing to go through and silently relive every embarrassing moment I had ever experienced in my short seventeen years of life. There were a lot. Mostly in the middle school department. Really, though, who doesn’t wish they could forget those three painful years?

Unfortunately for me, my mind liked to think more about girls I had mowed over in the supermarket, and the fact that it was weird to think about girls I had mowed over in the supermarket. I was reminded of just how weird it was to obsess over people like this multiple times. After a lot more tossing and turning, eventually I got up and decided to venture down the creaky stairs.

I was hoping maybe I could find some spiritual enlightenment, but Oreos and a Coke sounded pretty rad, too. Either was a better alternative to laying in bed, staring at the sticky glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling and trying to will death upon myself.

To my surprise and slight horror, mom was still up when I made it down the stairs, busily emptying out the contents of the refrigerator. A fresh wave of guilt and something rather uncomfortable replaces my desire for junk food. Could mom read minds? I know that they can see out of the backs of their heads (or maybe my mom just liked to repeat “Eden, Ezra, knock it off!” every few minutes when we were kids).

I chance a look at the clock, hoping it was a reasonable time so that a lecture would be more mild. 2:48 in the AM. Just my luck. I brace myself for the reminder that I had to be up for school in exactly three hours and twelve minutes.

“What are you doing up?” My mother asks. I have to say that I was both unsurprised and silently dreading her next words. She sounded irritated, but her face seemed to be more tired than anything.

Her honey blonde hair was piled messily on her head, streaked with more grey. Her blue eyes seemed to be encased in a few more wrinkles, and even more weighed down with worry lines on her forehead. I think my mother had been pretty, once.

Not to sound rude, or anything! Everyone is pretty in their own way, and all that. She seems like she would be a pretty person. If only it weren’t for the apparent signs of early aging and stress that weathered her face.

For as long as I could remember, my mom had always looked like she was exhausted, just having rolled out of bed. It was almost like the one hangover I’d had in my life; complete with the dark circles and sluggish attitude. My mom had a permanent hangover, but not from alcohol. Just from life.

“Nothin’.” I answer finally, walking over to the cabinet and pulling out a couple packets of mini oreos. When she raises one eyebrow, her mouth twisting at the edges, I add a slightly better explanation. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d try eating something.”

“Oreos are hardly a good bedtime snack,” She sighs, with no real conviction. By the time my little brother had turned thirteen, she’d given up on trying to police us with things like cheese and celery sticks. This was only a formality.

I shrug. “Yeah, well. Teenager cravings and all that.”

She grunts in reply, blowing a part of her choppy bangs out of her face. I half expect her to say something else, but she turns back to clearing the old leftovers and tupperware from the massive cavity that was our fridge.

“So,” I clear my throat, sliding past her and reaching for a can of soda. “What’re you doing in the kitchen at two in the morning?”

She glances over at me over the rim of her square glasses. “Something smells in here. I couldn’t go to bed with the thought of it in my head.”

This earns a nod from me, and silence for a moment while I busy myself with opening my oreos. “Makes sense, I guess.”

“How was school?” She asks after a moment, pulling out a tupperware and opening it to sniff the contents. Instantly, her face contorts into an expression of disgust.

“It was good,” I shrug, leaning against the counter. “There’s a new girl.” I add, stuffing my face with oreos. My mom gives me a flat look at the lack of manners she had tried to teach me. I smile sheepishly, sure that my teeth are covered in black cookie crumbs.

“Oh, that’s nice. Are you two friends?” She asks, once again huffing softly to blow that choppy section of bangs out of her eyes.

“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I think. I saw her in the store a couple weeks ago.” I lift a shoulder, popping the tab on the can of Coke. “She’s pretty cool.”

“That’s good.” My mom says, gesturing for me to pull the garbage can over. I kick it to her, wincing when it makes a loud noise. She gives me a look that says what did you think would happen?

I continue after we both are silent. Mom scrapes the nasty food into the garbage can. The grandfather clock in the living room informs us that it’s three in the morning. Distantly, I wonder if I should go to bed, but also I don’t feel like it’s fair to leave my mom in the kitchen alone.

“She’s got this really pretty, curly hair and a little bit of an accent - Mexican, maybe? - and she’s so nice.” I start up again, sipping my drink and coughing when the bubbles go up my nose. “All the boys are trying to get her attention, of course. Which is stupid.”

“Has Nathan said anything about it?” Mom asks, looking up at me, concerned.

I push my hair out of my eyes, shaking my head. “Nah, he’s still away on vacation with his family. I’m not too worried about that.” Not yet, I add to myself.

Don’t get me wrong, my boyfriend is… nice, but he does some pretty questionable stuff when it comes to other girls. There were rumors a few times that he cheated on me, but I’m not sure that I trust rumors. I’ve never asked him because that’s just a fight I don’t want to have.

Really, our relationship was more of an arrangement between our parents. His family goes to the same church as I do, so when he asked me out I kind of felt obligated to say yes. My mom adores him and his parents, my dad is kind of indifferent.

So, dating Nathan has become an obligation and a chore. I should dump him.

This isn’t the first time I’ve thought something like this. The only reason I haven’t yet is that I’m not sure how it’ll impact the family. Tension will definitely tinge my parents’ and his parents’ relationship, and I don’t know that I have the energy to deal with something like that.

“You should probably go to bed, sweets.” My moms voice cuts through my thoughts, and I jump.

“What? Oh, yeah. Probably.” I dump the rest of the oreos into my mouth, chug the rest of my soda, and burp magnificently. Probably an eight out of ten, if I do say so myself.

“Need any help?” I offer, after a moment of giggling at my mother’s annoyed, although fond, glance.

“No, I’m alright. I’m almost through here, and I hear that you guys have a quiz tomorrow.”

“Ugh, mom,” I groan, tossing my trash in their respective bins, but pushing off the counter anyways. “Please don’t remind me. I’m trying to erase that from my mind.”

“Mhmm.” She hums, rolling her eyes. I grin, leaning over and kissing her cheek.

“Night, mom.”

“Night, Eden,” She smiles. “I love you.”

“Love you, mom.”

I start the trek upstairs, my mind finally quiet enough to where I think I could fall asleep. Something in me whispers that it wasn’t going to last long.

Thank you for reading the second chapter of The Gay Agenda!  Please give it a like if you enjoy reading this, and reblog with how you found it in a comment or in the tags!

[weoutherelike-blog]

The Naughty List

‘Tis the night before Christmas and all through the house, every flat surface of the living room is occupied by your lounging family members. Your beautiful family is painted with TV lights over a countenance of holiday bliss and you can’t stop admiring them. It’s quiet and peaceful and you’re surrounded by the people you love most in the world, together sharing this moment. You’re so proud.

Then you notice I’m on your television. You turn up the volume just a little bit, careful not to wake up you-know-who that’s always the first one asleep. I’m doing a press conference. You remember that I’m not likely to do press conferences, but I’m on every channel and I’m not answering your texts, so you start to believe the impossible.

I’ve invented a machine that enables you to experience your heart’s deepest desires. It manipulates the brain in precise patterns that it can run all your fantasy simulations subconsciously, and it’s done in such an authentic and believable way that you’ll have sharp and lasting memories about living out your dream scenario. Some Very Important People have already agreed it’s one-hundred percent effective, having each been given a demonstration. Everyone is now discussing what’s to be done with my machine.

You’ve been watching the conference for a while and it’s past bedtime but since I’ve made possibly the most groundbreaking discovery of all time, everyone gets to stay up a little longer. You learn that the machine has no way to record the adventure it sends someone on, so each fantasy stays private and locked within the vault of your own mind. You’re free to live out the life you’ve always wanted. Marry into royalty. Be the most famous person on the planet. Do the weird sexual stuff you don’t have the guts to actually try. Live out the plot of Blade Runner and be the one who Runs all the Blades (I’ve never seen the movie). It takes only seconds to use for a lifetime of incredible memories, and can be beamed remotely into your head so you won’t even have to leave your chair. 

You also learn that I’m the only person who can operate the device, so the government, in a fit of holiday spirit, has kindly allowed me to keep my machine under the condition that they never have to wait in line to use it. 

We’re reached the grand finale of my speech: I have a December 24th gift for everyone. Any person, anywhere, can earn earn a turn with my machine exactly one year from now. For the next three-hundred sixty-five days, each of you will accumulate points for day-to-day acts of kindness that are deemed worthy and the results will be displayed on the back of your left hand. It is up to you to discover which acts will earn you a go with my machine.

It would be dumb not to try.

My awkward announcement to all people of all nations ends with instructions to have a good night and sleep well, since the game begins as soon as you wake up in the morning. Your family excitedly doubts anyone will sleep tonight, then gets extra hugs and scrambles off to bed. Visions of sugarplums dance in your heads.

You wake to a shift in the atmosphere. Today everything feels a bit more special. Your family is smiling with sincerity in all the photos. You hear “please” and “thank you” and “you’re so welcome” as gifts are unwrapped in a calm and orderly fashion. True gratitude is being expressed at dinner, actual compliments are passed around, everyone notices the decorations you spent so much time on. Every so often, you see the number increase on the back of your hand. It’s happening to every one of you and the kids shout in delight each time their tally grows. It’s one of the most satisfying and fulfilling days you’ve ever had. No one bickered, no one felt excluded, nobody was put upon or overwhelmed. Each of you were the best versions of yourselves today. The points are a nice bonus.

The next day is even better. You hold the door for a stranger and your total rises. You pay for a co-worker’s coffee and get a little boost. All the while, every person you encounter is the friendliest you’ve ever seen them, and you begin to notice little changes in each person’s face when they score big. Internal celebrations seep into subtle smiles and the vibe of wellbeing intensifies. The rough edges you’re so used to seem softer. By dinnertime, everyone has heard of The List that’s being crowdsourced online of every scoring action and the average point gains being reported from around the world. Later in the week you watch a news report confirming that I’ve seen this list, and checked it thoroughly twice before authorizing it. You call me to see how I’m doing (3 points) and congratulate me on how my hair looked in that last interview (point), and ask for a few hints between friends for some higher-earning deeds.

Your Facebook friends are sharing their scores with palpable glee. Twitter is flooded with tips and tricks to maximize your daily average. Everyone’s Snapchat story includes video of them handing a water bottle to a homeless man or donating clothes to Goodwill. You can’t remember feeling more upbeat and motivated. You challenge yourself for weeks to beat your previous day’s score. Your boss gives you a promotion while eagerly staring at the back of his hand. The lady whose car you back into in front of the Chipotle gives you a hug to calm your nerves and offers you the extra guac they gave her inside. Celebrity scores become a hot topic and the most popular Reddit thread is a stream of fantasy synopses that you can sort by popularity for ideas. 

These are the new best days of your life. A month later, the news is suddenly dominated by reports of people scamming the system. A young man in the South found out he could score points by signing up to volunteer, even if he didn’t show up to help. Two businessmen in South Africa racked up high scores for the hundreds of fake charities they created. A new rule was implemented: anyone caught cheating is now being publicly shamed for their punitive point losses in a document with a complicated military code for a name. Everyone just calls it The Naughty List.

A few weeks later, there’s a ripple of panic worldwide as people slowly notice their default point-earning actions are bringing in lower and lower numbers each day. You’re pretty annoyed at the grocery store when you’re only getting one point per cart you give up to someone else in the entrance. And when you bump into your ex’s new partner in line at the gas station, you nod at them politely three times but nothing even happens. Not one single point. It’s frustrating.

There’s a conspiracy theory going around that points are somehow tied into the significance of the action. It seems that robotically performing the same actions won’t cut it anymore. You aim higher, and the reward is worth the extra effort.

At least you’re not one of the disgraced people whose points fell when they were caught shoplifting or bullying or shaming a mother for breastfeeding. You’ve always been a good person. You check the total on your hand reassuringly throughout the day as you flip back and forth between the 24-hour televised coverage of the Naughty List’s newest inductees and the 24-hour countdown until next Christmas.

One day a woman in Bangladesh leaves her long-time abuser and that evening she’s an international news story for having gained the highest amount of points for a single achievement. It’s a game-changer once everyone realizes that taking care of yourself is a high-scoring act of kindness. Therapists become the highest paid, most sought after career. Suicide-line callers generate as many points as suicide-line volunteers. Checking into rehab nets people so many points that facilities set up overflow units. And you notice the change in your own life: finally making an appointment with your dentist got you points. Asking your friend to talk you through that panic attack got you points. You get more points than you can believe when you treat yourself to a massage for the first time in your life.

Yesterday, a senator abolished private prisons and jumped up to the top score in his country. Today, there’s a mad rush for all the political parties of the world to solve all of humanity’s problems. Global trends are analyzed. Low-scoring people are being shunned and anyone with a negative score is rounded up for questioning. You’re currently at a Walmart, loading up on 50 pound bags of dog food to bring to the animal shelter. You only manage to grab three because two other guys had the same idea and you had to argue over them. Now your good deed is making you late for work and you’re on edge, so when the cashier asks you how many dogs you have, you snap at her that it’s none of her business. You can feel everyone’s eyes on your back as your immediate area goes quiet. One whole point slides from your hand. You’re mortified. You’re apologizing profusely but the customers are already passing around a silent look of distaste at you. “You better watch out,” one of them says as tears well in your eyes. “And no use crying or pouting about it.”

You call me a few days later to confess to The Incident and describe your great remorse while asking if the Naughty List is a permanent thing. I could tell you were disappointed that I don’t have the power to give or take points, but it’s still nice to hear from you and I wish I could talk longer but participation in the game has far exceeded my initial forecast. So I’ve been working on a way to amplify my machine’s signal in order to beam everyone’s ultimate fantasies into their heads simultaneously to everyone in the world in just one night. I even opened a facility up north and hired some seasonal interns to help me.

It’s sweet of you to call, though. You glance at your hand hopefully. 

It’s now been most of a year and you’re living in a utopian society. Everyone is on their best behavior. Everyone is practicing self-care. Life as we know it has drastically shifted. We’re curing diseases with all the money that everyone can afford to donate with the enormous cost-of-living wage increase everyone was given (corporations discovered they can score points of their own). You went back to school to learn that thing you’ve always wanted to try, resulting in an even hundred points, so you’re riding high. That single point on the Naughty List hasn’t haunted you for months. You give everyone on the street a friendly greeting because one out of 30 scores you a point or two and it’s just good math. And everyone smiles back, so it’s win-win. 

December rolls around again and the perfect world is in a fever pitch. Rival Good Guy Gangs are fighting to show each other up with huge point pools. Your score is no longer a protected status for discrimination in the workplace, but you get two points for the email you wrote thanking your CEO for the opportunity after you’re replaced with someone almost double your score. The Top Ten are the most venerated human beings in modern history. The two Lists are dominating headlines and infographics came back into fashion. You’ve been perfecting your most wished-for fantasy in your head instead of looking for jobs. 

Your family hasn’t spent much time together after the basic interactions were overused into low-score territory. The easy ones like reading to the kids, making lunch for the family, letting you-know-who sleep in so they won’t be so grumpy - none of them come with a reward anymore so everyone has moved on to grander undertakings. Keeping up with your point-league is starting to become a full time job, but not one that pays the bills. Your face hurts from smiling at every. goddamn. person you cross paths with and you’ll never admit how jealous it makes you that you that the idiot who almost got you expelled in high school managed to pull eight bodies from a burning building AND rescue a litter of puppies all in one week. It totally threw off your racket. 

There are only a few days left until I load The Lists into my machine, tune into the brains of the Worthy, and make everyone’s dreams appear to come true. You’re broke and exhausted from shopping for 156 more people than usual, crossing your fingers that it’ll buy you a few more points in the home stretch. You stood in line at the post office for 90 minutes to send me a package of homemade cookies. You’ve been sitting in your car for a half an hour trying to talk yourself out of flaking on your volunteer shift at the Complimentary Compliment Call Center for the second time this month. It all seems so fake, anyway. Every action is in the pursuit of points. You’re just glad that the game is almost over.

Your entire family is relieved on Christmas Eve. You made it. Of course, the fantasy world you’re about to experience is exciting, but you haven’t felt this relaxed all year. The family decides you’re so close to the deadline now that a few more points won’t matter, and everyone should just focus on having a nice holiday without the pressure of the numbers on your hands. You love your family even more for the suggestion, and you all sit down for dinner with the most legitimate smiles you’ve smiled in too long. It feels good to just drop the veneer and be yourself. You laugh together and feel free together and eat way too much and enjoy all the things you missed most. Then you all retire to the living room in a content stupor and take up your usual positions in front of the Countdown timer on TV. This is it - what you’ve worked hard all year for. The timer ticks down the last remaining seconds. You survey your family one last time before it hits zero.

The people you love most in the world, together sharing this moment. You’re so proud.

Then you notice I’m on your television having some sort of press conference about a machine I invented and you’re surprised to see me on TV, especially since you know I’m not likely to do press conferences. You fumble for the volume on the remote to hear what’s going on. You turn it up, but just a bit, so that you don’t wake up you-know-who. 

[yuckitup-jwd]

Dumb Criminals

Double-barreled bank vault

Jim Nulf, retired from the Jacksonville, Florida Police Department,remembers a couple of midnight bandits who tried to steal money from whatthey thought was a local bank's night depository. They lit a stick of dynamite,dropped it into the deposit slot and stepped back a few feet. Unfortunatelyfor them, they had confused the bank's night depository with the drop vaultof a nearby car wash. The dynamite exploded, blowing the front off thevault. The paper money was blown to shreds and the coins were propelledout like shot out of a shotgun, severely wounding the would-be bank robbers.

Dimwit breaks into police surveillance van

I am a police constable with the Niagara Regional Police. Back in April,1995, I was asked to help out with a surveillance project at a local birdwatchingconservation park. We had a problem with purses, cameras and other valuesbeing stolen from parked vehicles at the park, and we wanted to put anend to it.

Here was the setup: We had an old Ford Tempo parked in the lot witha purse on the floor as "bait". We then parked a nondescriptsurveillance van nearby from which we observed the Tempo. The van had afairly heavy tint on the windows, and we had a great view of the wholelot.My partner and I sat in the back of the van that Sunday morning and beganthe surveillance around 9:30 AM. We were well-supplied with food and drinksfor what we figured would be a long day.

Shortly after 10:00 AM, an old Pontiac Parisienne pulled into the lotand parked beside the surveillance van. Two males got out. The passengerwalked towards the birdwatching area and stopped. The driver got out andput on a pair of gloves. He completely ignored the "bait" vehicle,and tried to look into the back of the surveillance van. He was only inchesfrom me, but apparently couldn't see me looking back at him. He then triedthe side door, which opened for him. He already had a foot into the vanwhen he noticed the two guys with guns in the back.

He said: "Hi Guys, What's Up?"

When I got over my surprise, I told him: "You're busted, that'swhat's up."

I then arrested the male with the help of my partner. After turningthe loser over to a uniform car, and sending his passenger on his way,my partner and I had a good laugh about this poor guy who broke into thesurveillance van.

Mommy and Clyde

A young man asked his mother to drive him to the bank without tellingher he planned to rob it. He told her to wait while he went inside to conducthis business. A few minutes later junior came running out with the cash,only to find that mom had parked the car and gone inside a nearby grocerystore to do some shopping.

Smile, you're on Candid Camera!

A Cleveland drug dealer decided to impress his friends by hiring a limousinefor a big night on the town. His first stop was at a posh suburban residenceto sell some cocaine to a rather influential individual. Hoping to earna little extra profit by blackmailing his wealthy customer, the crook handeda camcorder to the limo driver and asked him to record the event for posterity.The driver, a moonlighting member of the Cleveland Police Department, washappy to comply.

I must be drunk. I can do that when I'm sober

I am a retired sergeant from the Sturbridge Police in Sturbridge, MA.One night one of my officers arrested a subject for driving under the influenceof alcohol. As the officer brought him into the booking room the subjectasked to use the bathroom. He was escorted to the bathroom.

When they returned to the booking area, which is video taped, the subjectran ahead of the officer and attempted to do a back flip and landed onhis face. He picked himself, looked into the camera, and said, "Imust be drunk because I can do that when I'm sober."

Needless to say, he was convicted for driving under the influence ofalcohol.

Indecent exposure suspect calls cops

A call from an emergency call-box along U.S. 101 turned up a man whoallegedly had exposed himself to two women and eluded police by swimminginto the Bay, said South San Francisco police.

Peter Allen Steele, 29, of Union City, called police to report an assaultand car theft at approximately 2:45 a.m. Saturday, said police. Policearrived to find Steele naked on the side of the road, bruised and shivering.

Two women later identified Steele as the man who Friday night exposedhimself while driving a black Ford Taurus on Gateway Boulevard, said police.

Police received a call about the incident at 11:15 p.m. Friday and beganpursuit. After a chase at speeds over 100 mph, Steele, who stands 6 feet8 inches tall and weighs about 250 pounds, pulled off the highway northof the Sierra Point overpass, fled his car and jumped into the bay, saidpolice.

Police said Steele was not wearing pants when he fled the vehicle.

After searching the area between Candlestick Point and Oyster Pointwith a helicopter and boat, the Coast Guard called off the search at 2:25a.m.

About a half hour later, police received a call from the highway call-boxreporting an assault and car theft.

Steele told police he had been changing a flat tire when a group ofmen assaulted him and stole his black Ford Taurus. Police, however, recognizedSteele as the man they had chased the night before.

Steele was taken to Mills Peninsula Hospital in Burlingame to be treatedfor mild hypothermia and minor injuries. He was issued a citation for indecentexposure, evading pursuit and resisting arrest.

[the-littlest-awkward-witch-blog]

Often the Gold Or Bitcoin Wire crate Match: Position Your Gambling bets

I can identify an Elvis fan miles away.

Significant hair, diamonds, wide collars for dogs, an open tshirt... and self assurance.

I know there ought to be shy admirers of the Sovereign out there, although apparently, signify they wear it very own sleeves. When you are an Elvis fan internally and the out in the open, your sartorial style will probably reflect them.

So it seemed to be with this bitcoin-bug.

He'd cornered me inside Bermuda in 2009. He applied blue soft shoes, a clicking giveaway. Your dog asked my estimation of the cryptocurrency... but before I might had a way to respond, he / she told me actually should be.

"It's the single most important innovation throughout world story, " your dog exclaimed. It seems that writing as well as wheel were definitely small taters. "If you just aren't into it, you will absolutely crazy. in Jarringly, typically the accent appeared to be more Longisland than Tupelo, Mississippi.

"Perhaps, " I just replied. "But the real concern is, engrossed for what amount? "

Incidents are asking that dilemma right now...

Bombs Away, Although We're SO

Recently, Managed to get a note at a reader protesting and complaining that I written too much around the impact connected with politics for markets.

Next the governor with Guam shared with his associates Guamanians to not ever look right at a atomico fireball, if perhaps one should surface courtesy of Lapland Korea. Financial matters tanked.

Like was indicating...

As it continually does, often the gold price spiked, hitting $1, 294 the ounce.

Your old watches has a pattern of doing of which. Gold music charts look like a strong EKG in lieu of price routines. Up, next down... right up, then all the way down... by unusually regular levels.

Overall, platinum is up much more than 12% the 2010 season... but if track record is any sort of guide, those people gains could halve briefly.

Something else developed recently. Bitcoin broke the exact $4, 000 barrier.

Plus unlike yellow metal, everybody's most loved cryptocurrency retains trending in place this year. Besides from a few blips in May and Come early july, bitcoin increased, up in addition to away.

If perhaps you'd obtained bitcoin at the first of January, choosing looking at a new 300% achieve.

What Can You Easily afford: The Tortoise or the How?

When you name a person "volatile, " people mean he has been unpredictable.

People today can be volatile even if these seem dependable. I've regarded plenty of males who had your werewolf-level adjust once they became a few wines in.

After we call something volatile, nevertheless it just suggests that its value bounces about a lot. Look for a even try this predictably, much like the gold price.

Even if gold's amount has seesawed like a compact boat within the choppy seaside, its a volatile market is extremely small.

By contrast, bitcoin is all above the place.

The exact bitcoin Elvis I satisfied in Bermuda was doing a bit with years. I could not help nonetheless wonder the best way his metabolic processes has addressed the cryptocurrency's wild shots this year.

Could be he was successful and it couldn't matter. Nonetheless I suspicious he was similar to most of us... trying to play his money to make it choose further like he bought older. Well then I just imagine he's have a lot of chamomile tea this. Or valerian root.

Bitcoin and your old watches are both principally stores valuable. Yes, you possibly can pay for material with bitcoin, but most of the usb ports is in electric vaults, anticipating the price to rise.

You can include stuff by using gold very, and most than me is in vaults as well, expecting... well, pertaining to prices going down. Stock options prices, by way of example.

To me which is the difference amongst bitcoin plus gold.

Bitcoin is a assuming play, for instance industrial metallic items. Pieces seesaw all the time. Massive jumps and large drops will be part of the property. It's including the hare, starting off and ceasing constantly. A value varies according to something else... around bitcoin's instance, on feeling.

Gold, on the flip side, is the tortoise of the financial commitment world. It could so solid that a purchasing electricity today concerns the same as that it was in Both roman times, and further returning. Its continuous value can be eerily disconnected from individuals affairs.