#cw: mentions of murder

[romances-not-tragedies]

and i keep my side of the street clean

Summary: When a chat about the case of the murdered magician goes ugly, one of Jo Gar's longtime acquaintances walks up into the scene and chooses figurative violence against the lieutenant of the Manila Police Station who thinks he is right in accusing an innocent man of a murder he may not commit. Or "The Magician Murder" AU in which someone puts Sadi Ratan in his place. Title from Taylor Swift's "Karma".

Content warnings: mentions of murder case, swearing, abuse of power by authority, insult towards an honorable ex-government official, not-quite accurate depiction of legal processes in pre-Revised Penal Code era, mixed opinions on the American colonial government in the Philippines

Note: Edilberto Alcantara is an original character I have made for each and every Jo Gar 'verse. In the stories he is a lawyer who's had the honor of working under one of the most honorable government officials who would figure in the country's history under tragic circumstances (read WWII).

Edilberto knew that he was supposed to be home, in an apartment unit at the arrabal of Ermita where he’d been living two years ago. To be fair, though, he still went back to the house at Calle Azarraga, which his family had bought upon securing enough funds while he entering his teenage years, for the weekends or when he felt like it, since it felt more like home than he'd thought it was before moving out.

But Jo had asked him to come over at his little office near Escolta since he needed his unofficial opinion on a certain case, and he climbed up the stairs after waving a greeting to Wong Ling, who seemed to be fretting in his place. He had wanted to ask but he had no time. He arrived at the door, not locked as he knew Jo would not lock his door as force of habit, only to hear sounds of conversations.

He bent down and pressed his ear against the keyhole to listen to who and what they were talking.

He recognized Jo’s matter-of-fact tone of speaking, countering with the always charged (and angry) tone from Lieutenant Sadi Ratan. He resisted the urge to sigh, as he had known the lieutenant to be a pus-filled boil on your buttocks dressed in a handsome face and spotless uniform. He had intensely disliked the lieutenant from the get-go. They were discussing about the case of a murdered magician, Señor Dario Cardoro who had arrived in the country and was watching the cockfight this night, only to get into a problem after the last round.

What it was, Edilberto had no idea.

And then, as it often went, what was supposed to be a decent conversation (or at least on Jo Gar’s part) devolved into the usual ugly shit. He heard the lieutenant ask in a demanding tone if Jo would accept Señor Sam Markden’s commission as he was seen as prime suspect.

It’s his right, yawa, he wanted to retort, but kept himself silent so he could time his entrance.

Then, he heard the lieutenant accuse Jo Gar, “You are protecting an American. You have always protected them. You like them. He was your client.”

Really now? Edilberto asked, if only to himself. It was like accusing you that you liked the current Governor-General, who Edilberto did not like since the Conley Crisis. Also, why was the lieutenant taking issue with Jo taking Markden as a client?

To Jo’s credit, he was as calm as he could be. “I was not paid that well,” he answered. “I doubt that I could be paid that well. Riazo was not drugged. You have no proof of it.”

Ayos! Edilberto silently cheered with a little fist pump. Drag him to hell, Jo. You’re doing it right.

Hotly, the lieutenant fired back, “I stood over Juan Derigo when he told me—”

So you intimidated him, then? Edilberto wanted to ask him.

“A Filipino does not like to be beaten,” Edilberto heard Jo chuckle as he replied. And the statement was true, unfortunately. “He preferred to let you think as you wished.”

Ha! Take that, you sorry sack of ball-less cocks!

Again, he heard the lieutenant vow to Jo, “It will not be good for you to protect Markden, Señor Gar. When we have caught him—”

Unless proven otherwise, Lieutenant Idiot-Face. You forgot that part. You only have one job and you are blowing it.

“The birds were in condition,” cut off Jo, though he spoke slowly. “Each of them. Riazo was defeated. That was all.”

But Lieutenant Idiot-Face, er, Lieutenant Ratan said, as though he had discovered buried treasure, “It is not all. Cardoro stood up and shouted that he would not pay.” Okay, so the man had money problems, and that’s the least of Edilberto’s worries right now. He was worried about the horrid fucker insisting that he was right despite the fact that his arguments could be thrown away by any sane juez de la paz. “I saw Markden’s face—”

Oh, you could read faces now? Good for you, Edilberto sarcastically said if to himself.

The lieutenant continued, “—there was hate in his eyes. And Cardoro was murdered. A spur knife was used. Markden has vanished. We have searched the city for him. He is the killer of the magician!”

And yet in your hate towards Jo Gar, you haven’t killed him. Also, why must you insist on something not yet fully proven? Anger was simmering in the young attorney. Were his former boss present in Jo’s office and was confronted by someone like Sadi Ratan, he would dismantle the lieutenant’s arguments with calm logic and knowledge of the law. He would gently but firmly rip them apart, one by one, until nothing was left for the lieutenant.

Jo replied with a sigh, “Then it is all very simple. You will find him, and that will be the end.”

Unless the court says otherwise, Jo. You forgot that part.

The calm must have driven Lieutenant Ratan crazy. Angry, perhaps. Which was why he would commit one of the most blatantly terrible acts of injustice Edilberto would hear him threaten Jo.

“And you will be brought to trial for lying to me, a police officer!” Edilberto heard Lieutenant Ratan fiercely threaten Jo Gar.

Anger shot through Edilberto. How dare Lieutenant Sadi Ratan accuse everyone and anyone of lying without solid proof! He wanted to puke and not because of beer, and he didn’t even drink! And he hadn’t made Jo swear an oath to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, an abomination of everything he had learned at law school and his ongoing stint at the Department of Justice. And he would have him tried for a crime he was trying to prove with only conjectures? No solid evidence?

That’s it, I’ve had enough!

He swung the door open and stepped inside the little office of his late cousin’s friend. “‘Lying to me?’” he repeated the words mockingly as a greeting to the lieutenant. He closed the door behind him a little too strongly and raised a brow at the lieutenant. “Who the fuck do you think Jo Gar is, your wayward husband?” he asked crisply and coolly like the amihan winds of December.

That made both men jump out on where they were standing. Cold satisfaction ran through the young attorney when the police lieutenant went stiff and his eyes grew comically wide. Jo Gar blinked a few times.

The “wayward husband” remark must have disoriented them, he thought.

It took both men time to recover from this dramatic greeting, Jo calming down first and greeting him with a faint smile, “Compañero Alcantara, what a pleasant surprise.” Relief washed over Jo’s countenance, though he hid it behind his usual expressionless face.

Edilberto smiled at Jo Gar and answered, “I thought you’ve already known that I would be here, since you sent me a message before I left home. And I do believe that Lieutenant Sadi Ratan here would quickly accuse me of conflict of interest even if I am just here for a different reason.” He delivered the last sentence in a cutting, sarcastic manner he’d always use when dealing with the lieutenant.

“How long have you been listening to us, Compañero Alcantara?” Edilberto turned to the police lieutenant, who was fuming so badly that he could see smoke out of his nose and ears.

The attorney directed his eyes towards Lieutenant Ratan, curled his lips in a here comes trouble smirk that had been a family trademark. He answered, “Long enough to hear you accusing of Señor Gar of liking Americans and committing perjury even if he has not sworn to someone who is fit to administer an oath. And then quickly accuse of Señor Markden of killing Señor Cardoro on the basis of—what?” He blurted out the last word in a mocking laugh. “Simply because he had dug up dirt on the man? That’s not how things work, Lieutenant. I thought you know better. I was wrong.”

He watched Jo Gar watching this unfold with interest and a bit of worry. He must have known that Edilberto hated the lieutenant, even more so when he watched the lieutenant trying to get under Jo’s skin. His underhanded tactics made Edilberto seethe no matter what.

Then his eyes went right back to Lieutenant Ratan as he grew red on the face. He must have hit where it hurt the most. Good, let him be angry and make his head explode.

Then Lieutenant Sadi Ratan exploded, making him barely flinch, “He lied to me! He is having Señor Markden hide behind him even though he is the killer of Señor Cardoro!”

Edilberto recovered from the outburst, thinking that Lieutenant Ratan sounded more like a lover scorned than a member of the Manila Police District. He asked, “Did you administer an oath to Jo Gar? Because from what I have heard, you did not. You just fired out accusations towards Señor Markden based on flimsy evidence and conjectures. If you tried to push it to trial stage at the court, even at the First Instance, the juez de la paz will laugh at your arguments. And while Señor Markden is suspected of killing Cardoro, he still has the right to ask for aid, legal aid.”

“Asking for aid from Señor Gar is not legal aid!” fired Sadi Ratan back.

“Doesn’t he have the right for an attorney?”” Edilberto countered matter-of-factly. “Is that not legal aid?” He watched the lieutenant grow mad once more and he was steps away from what his sister would call an apoplexy. He continued, “Plus, you already presumed him guilty, Lieutenant Ratan. That is not how it works.” He jutted his chin and pointed out, “He is still innocent until judged otherwise by the court of law.”

“And you are siding with Señor Markden, too,” Sadi Ratan accused him, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You are supposed to be on the side of the law. I thought you know better.”

Edilberto rose an eyebrow on that, amused at this feeble show of power. “Why, I have been hearing that accusation too often,” he remarked, his voice mild but acerbic. He commented, “I must have gotten the lessons from my ex-boss wrong. I thought practicing fairness is important. Maybe I should visit him once more for some…clarification on the matter.”

“But I thought he had resigned from the Cabinet, Compañero Alcantara?” Jo Gar asked as he reached out for the packet of his favorite cigarettes in his coat.

“Which is why I said ‘ex-boss,’ Jo,” Edilberto pointed out with a smile on his face. “I still look up to him, though.”

He returned his stare to the lieutenant, who had dropped his finger when he saw how unfazed the attorney was. Which was a good sign, as it meant that what he’d said frazzled his non-existent brain.

“But he worked for Americans, and you work for Americans, Compañero Alcantara,” the lieutenant blurted out, gritting his teeth. He pointed to Jo and said, “And he likes working with Americans! He likes them and you like them!”

“So what?” Edilberto asked sharply. That this police lieutenant had the audacity to insult his former boss and his more-than stellar career in the government made his blood boil. Never mind he insulted his, but not that of the ex-Justice Secretary! It should earn him a punch or two, but that would be for another day. He stalked forwards, eyes and spirit hardened as he made Sadi Ratan stumble back.

Edilberto icily responded to the latter’s assault on the former Secretary, “My ex-boss was a pensionado, true. He also used to be part of the Cabinet as Justice Secretary before resigning. And guess who is leading the Cabinet? An American Governor-General! Does that make him pro-American? I don’t know except that my ex-boss is a fair and honorable man and is better at serving the people than you are.”

He smirked again at the arrogant lieutenant, who was utterly speechless, and pointed out, “And who is chief of the Manila Police District? An American! Your boss is often out of sight that we forget that he existed. And as for Americans asking for Jo’s help? That, Lieutenant Sadi Ratan, is none of your fucking business.”

He caught sight of Jo Gar looking at him in surprise. He knew that Jo had not seen him this angry towards anyone. Among his family and friends and in Jo’s opinion (at least how he’d say it), he had always been the mediator, the peaceful center amidst the chaotic dynamics.

He went on and said, “I’m not going to lie. It is not ideal, and I am not going to pretend that we do not have blood and muck up our necks because we work with Americans. Do not pretend that you are safe from it, either. You, too, are stained with the same shit as Jo and I are.”

“That is one way of putting it, Compañero,” Jo mildly said to Edilberto as he lit another cigarette. “But I fear that Lieutenant Ratan will not understand what you are telling him.”

Edilberto shook his head. “I’ve given up hope, Jo,” answered the attorney with a wave of his hand. “If he stays like that, that is on him.”

Then his attention went back to Lieutenant Ratan, who was standing there, angry defiance vibrating through him. He would not admit defeat, Edilberto thought to himself. He quietly told the police officer, “I will not be the cause of your downfall. Nor Jo Gar will be the cause of your downfall. You are already doing damn fine job yourself. But if you decide to go ahead with your threats and damn the consequences, go ahead. I will not stop you.”

Lieutenant Sadi Ratan reared back in shock. The shift in his tone must have jarred his brain and that he was giving the lieutenant an opportunity, a choice.

“I will warn you,” Edilberto continued, still mild in tone but with the rage in its undertones, “that since you are fond of committing this particular sin, a false charge can ruin a person. Arresting anyone on false charges can ruin them more. No one is safe from being falsely accused and being jailed for it. Señor Markden may not be safe. Señor Gar may not be safe. I may not be safe. You may not be safe either. So be careful if you keep proceeding. Do not say I have not warned you, Lieutenant Ratan.”

Their eyes clashed, and Lieutenant Sadi Ratan gave him a hard stare. Edilberto returned it with a frigid glare, his lips in a challenging not-quite smile. It was not long before Lieutenant Sadi Ratan broke the spell and walked away, but not without bumping into Edilberto’s shoulder, making the attorney stumble a little, and slammed the door shut. Edilberto muttered something unsavory about the lieutenant as he rubbed his affected shoulder.

Edilberto looked at Jo once more and let out a shaky breath of relief. “That ataya. He should have seen it coming,” he muttered as he approached Jo. “Sorry if I screwed it up.”

“On the other hand, you did well,” Jo said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m just worried that he would go after you.”

“On what grounds?” Edilberto asked as he sat on the fan-backed chair Jo had motioned for him to take. “That I warned him of the consequences if he continues to be an animal?” He pronounced the last word as his Cebuano parents would pronounce it when feeling annoyance towards anyone who acted uncouthly. “He can file a complaint to our acting boss if he wants to and if he has solid evidence. I’m not going to stop him because I know what is right and he is wrong. He made his bed, so let him sleep in it.”

Jo shook his head. “And yet you deal with him in a way you are daring him,” he told him, his blue-gray eyes on him, weariness evident in his countenance. “I wish I have half of your audacity to call him out like that. But it may take too much of my energy.”

Edilberto felt sympathy for him as he watched Jo run his fingers through his graying hair. Dealing with a stress inducer like Lieutenant Sadi Ratan would take a toll on anyone, even the unflappable Island Detective. He couldn’t blame him, though, if he wanted to deal with the lieutenant in a way he thought best.

“Whatever suits you best, Jo,” assured Edilberto. “But by God, I am steps away from punching his face! I wish I do not have to, because if I do, my family will be disappointed in me.”

Jo appeared to want to say something but closed his mouth and only nodded. “Well, let us set that aside, Edilberto, and discuss that case I am working on before the murder of Señor Cardoro. I would need your advice on how it is best handled in the legal matters.”

Edilberto let out a sigh. At last they had something to divert themselves from the debacle involving the aggressive idiot of a lieutenant.

***

And so, when Edilberto Alcantara heard that Sam Markden had been jailed for the murder of Dario Cardoro, his shoulders slumped. But when he read an article from the most recent edition of The Philippine Herald in his office at the Department of Justice, it turned out that it was Miss Jessie Rayne’s Spanish companion, Señora Elena Riggio, who killed the magician out of spite and a history that ended bitterly. Markden was let go because of this development.

That last bit of news had been heartening, but it made him angry too. Lieutenant Sadi Ratan let himself be carried away by his delusions of grandeur, believing that his word was gold. It turned out to be gold-hued enamel coating over a celluloid bauble. Because of him, he ruined the life of an innocent man with a false accusation and its resulting arrest.

And Jo Gar outwitted him again.

He knew that it did not have to be like that. Had the lieutenant been imbued with half the integrity and willingness to be corrected like his ex-superior, he would have done a fine job. But no, he did not.

There was nothing he could do. Lieutenant Sadi Ratan had brought this upon himself, and there was no one to blame but him alone. He had warned the man but he did not listen.

Now go stand in a corner and think about what you did, Lieutenant Idiot-Face.

For now, Edilberto decided to go on with his life.

He stood from his desk and placed the newspaper on a table along with the others in today’s edition. Going back to his place, he resumed his job, reviewing paperwork for an upcoming meeting with fellow lawyers on a case they were going to pursue at court.

[amaryllis-sagitta]

Not at all. After defeating Prometheus 3+ times and Chronos 5+ times now, as more dialogue unfolds with side characters, there's a lot to say about both gods and witches with divine ancestry:

Medusa's face on the Aegis, that Athena is wielding, looks miserable in a deeply sympathetic way. It instantly caught my attention, considering the Ovid's telling of Medusa's/ Gorgon's myth portrays her as a rape victim who was turned into a monster, silenced and isolated by gods themselves. Athena helps seal Medusa's fate by aiding the hero Perseus in slaying her. Though it is said that this telling of the myth was Ovid's personal anti-authoritarian protest to a great extent, it has ingrained itself into the modern culture to the point of Medusa becoming a symbol for SA survivors.

Feminist readings of Arachne's myth also point at Athena's role as an enabler and defender of the gods' wrongdoings, since the tapestry that Athena wove in her contest with Arachne was basically a warning against fucking with Hera and Zeus. meanwhile, the one woven by Arachne exposed... many sexual exploits that the gods carried out on mortal women in disguise, often shapeshifting into animals.

The Circe/ Odysseus relationship so far is depicted very... euphemistically. In Odyssey, Circe drugged Odysseus's crew and turned them into pigs, and in order to save them Odysseus lived with her for a year. That included sexual servitude, as Circe gave birth to sons after Odysseus left.

I had a moment with Medea where she said something along the lines of "I found your blood on the battlefield and used it for spells :3". Melinoe replied "Maybe ask me before you do it next time", to which Medea replied "How about I do whatever I want and never even tell you again :3". So, both the surface witches might yet be shown to have a... murky concept of consent even in regards to Melinoe. (Though Medea herself has an interesting status, since in some myth tellings she was charmed by Hera and Aphrodite to fall in love with Jazon in the first place, adds some shades of gray to Medea's infamous murder rampage after Jazon abandoned her).

There's also room for a Heracles & Hera arc. Heracles was prophesized to be a child who would overthrow Zeus just as Zeus overthrew Cronos (or at least he was 1 of 2 half-mortal Zeus bastards that fit the descriptor), and Hera tried to thwart him since the very moment she found out about him -- she even messed with his birth.

A cherry on top: after the first time I defeated Prometheus, I got a conversation that almost confirmed to me that 'Dora is a shade of Pandora or a throwback to her (just like 'Dusa in H1 is Medusa or Maid-Dusa, or at least a throwback). And Pandora of the myth was basically a plant (as in "industry plant") created by the Olympians to torment humanity after Prometheus gave them fire, both by her allegedly vile character and by the "box of plagues" she unleashed. This arc is vital to how Chronos's Golden Age ended.

So Hades II has been dropping not so subtle hints that the gods are in the wrong and Melinoë may have to question the morality of the war she's been fighting for her entire life. It's present in the way the gods justify their treatment of mortals, it's present in the way Nemesis talks about justice and the fates of characters like Arachne, it's present in the way Chronos talks about his goals (though of course, it's easy to see how he could be lying about the new golden age, even though the history of the mythological golden age does hint at him being right).

But, to me, the number one sign that Melinoë may be on the wrong side of this conflict is the newest boss. I can't think of a single mythic figure who is more instantly sympathetic or more likely to be genuinely fighting for the wellbeing of mortals than Prometheus. I can't think of a single god, titan, or hero who cares more about humanity and its progress. I haven't studied up on Prometheus more than just reading the famous myth about him, but I have never really heard him discussed unsympathetically. I know this may be a biased perspective as a puny mortal, but my gut tells me to side with whoever Prometheus is throwing in with. But I guess we'll see if I'm putting too much stock in him as the plot continues to unfold.

[stellewriites]

very much inspired by a post i’ll link at the bottom to avoid spoilers

i love putting john price in situations

simon had known price for over a decade, had served under him as his lieutenant for a good portion of it, so he was pretty confident in answering yes when asked if he thought he knew the captain well.

he could acknowledge he wasn’t as close as say laswell may have been, but he knew that price’s wife was not common knowledge around the base either.

he’d pieced it together over the years on missions; catching the odd comment shared over coms; the glint of a ring around his neck; the odd teased mention of her when they sat in the rec room after barely scraping through a tough spot, when price needed the company as well as the silence ghost offered before returning to the real world.

it was how simon knew the sergeants were staying when price let slip about her one day. because he doesn’t let anything slip, wouldn’t, especially about her.

“got anyone at home waiting for you, sir?” gaz asked as he sighed impatiently over the coms, hour three of silently waiting and watching had finally gotten to him.

“i do,” price said simply, not offering any further information. ghost could imagine the amusement tugging at his daft facial hair as price refused to continue without prompting and simon smiled under his mask when he heard johnny scoff next to him before chiming in.

“c’mon sir, give us a wee bit more’n that,” he weedled. “when’d ya meet? is she nice?”

john hummed, the sound low and crackly over the radio in their ears. “met when i moved.”

“oh, a real meet-cute type thing, eh?” gaz teased.

john ignored him. “wouldn’t say she’s nice, soap. she’s more than that. ‘nice’ is your aunt’s new wallpaper; you have permission to shoot me point blank if i start calling her nice.”

“what is she then?” ghost piped up. this was the chattiest john had ever been on the subject and he was going to take advantage.

john went silent for long enough that the three men thought that was it, the end to their sharing session and knowing more about their captain outside of work. simon chewed the inside of his cheek.

“she’s devoted,” john whispered finally before his voice firmed. “heads up, team, movement 2 o’clock. anyone got eyes on the target?”

—

it was months later when she was brought up again, the team thinking. nothing of it until price’s phone pinged in his pocket enough times to pique johnny’s interest as they prepped to leave.

“that the wife, sir?” he asked.

john huffed, didn’t bother checking his phone as he turned and shook his head. “she’s clingy, but she doesn’t bother me when i’m at work.”

“how’d you know?” gaz asked. “could be an emergency.”

“‘n’ how’d you get her to agree tae tha’?” soap followed up quickly, having had issues with his own flings petering out when he was distant and slow to reply.

“been with her long enough now it’s routine,” john said simply. he checked his weapons before heading for the exit. “helo in 5, be air ready.”

—

the mission had gone to shit, and they were stuck hidden in a building that looked like it was 10 seconds away from collapsing under a brisk wind when ghost finally felt his patience snap.

it was no one’s fault, but being stuck in another country with no back up and a target on their backs for an extra three weeks wasn’t ideal and johnny’s insistence on playing cards at every opportunity to keep his idle hands and mind busy combined with gaz’s tinny whistling had made for the perfect scenario to grate on simon’s patience quicker than anything else ever had.

“tell us about her. ya wife,” simon asked, his gaze slipping across to john, watching him pick at his nails. his cuticles were red and raw from four days of agitated fidgeting since they’d ran out of cigars and cigarettes. every so often simon caught him pat his empty pocket before he’d remember and huff heavily through his nose like a bull.

john closed his eyes at the mention of his wife and sighed. he started his description without protest or hesitance. “shes soft spoken. christ, you’d hardly know she was there half the time, she’s so quiet. but she’s firm. stands her ground no matter what,” he chuckled. “don’t think i’ve ever won an argument against her.”

kyle laughed and ghost closed his own eyes, trying to picture what he thought the captain’s wife might look like. pretty certainly, but was she tall, plump, did she have an endearing gap between her front teeth, did she keep her hair short or long?

“she’s a bit of a homebody,” john admitted bashfully, unaware of simon’s drifting thoughts. “but i can’t say i mind it.”

“not wanting to leave the bedroom much when yer back?” johnny joked, hissing when ghost punched his thigh.

john just smiled placidly, eyes still closed. his eyebrows pulled down as he gushed, “god she’s gorgeous in red. wears it every time i come home.”

“lucky bastard,” gaz huffed.

“yeah.” john nodded and finally opened his eyes. “yeah, lucky.”

“you’ll be back with her soon, cap,” gaz reassured him when he saw price swallow thickly.

“thanks, gaz. now who’s taking first watch tonight? soap?”

—

john was quiet on the plane ride home, not unusually so, but ghost noticed the difference all the same.

he was pensive perhaps, worried what his wife would say when he finally got home a month later than scheduled, uncontactable the entire time. ghost could understand to a certain degree that john would have more important things on his mind than what his three subordinates were going to do as soon as they stepped foot on home soil, so he didn’t push when john ignored the few threads of conversation thrown his way by their younger sergeants. instead he nodded when john said a quick goodbye as they all parted ways in the airport.

simon could only assume john was the same all the way home in the cab that dropped him outside of his little three bed house.

he didn’t see however how john hesitated at the door to his home that evening. how he gripped the front door keys tightly in his fist, shook as he stared down at his feet instead of letting his eyes drift and catch on the windows, and felt as though he could crack a tooth from how hard he was clenching his teeth.

he finally opened the door when he thought the neighbours might begin to get worried and stepped inside, flicking on the lights as he went.

it wasn’t until he got to the kitchen that he found her.

stood bare foot, silent, eyes wide and pleading, blood seeping - always seeping. would it ever stop? would the blood ever end? - through her white pyjama top, his top that she’d borrowed for the night, and trickling down her bare legs.

her mouth opened and she visibly struggled for breath, but no sound escaped even as her tongue wagged on the floor of her mouth, lapping at the backs of her teeth as all words escaped her.

he swallowed back bile.

“hello, sweetheart,” he choked out. “sorry i’m late.”

the blood pooled at her feet, the panties she wore were seeped a dark purple from the viscus liquid dying the dark blue material and the shirt stuck to her front. john had remembered loving seeing her like this in a morning, had always thought she looked best in as little clothing as possible.

“i know you hate it when work keeps me busy, but it was unexpected. we were caught—“ a high screech, not dissimilar to that of a whistle that only a dog could hear, pierced through his ears and cut his words short. he curled in and covered his ears, but he knew it would do no good, he should’ve known better than to talk about work around her.

not after what had happened last time he got back late after overtime.

tears prickle at his eyes and the sound abruptly stopped. he’d never questioned why it seemed to be only him that could hear her protests, why his neighbours never mentioned a shrill cry every so often from his home. he had always said she was made for him and that had apparently translated literally into the afterlife.

he looked up at her again - it was best not to ignore her he found. it only made her angry.

“it won’t happen again,” he promised wetly. “i did my best to get back as soon as i could, i promise, sweetheart—“ he choked on his words, biting back a sob. she watched unblinkingly, silent except for the wet squelch of her feet on the laminate.

they both knew he wasn’t apologising for being late this time. he got like this sometimes, when her agonised face and mangled body was too much to bear after a long mission and the guilt bore down like a physical presence.

he couldn’t help but think if he’d gotten home even just an hour earlier he might’ve been able to save her, to have kept her company instead of leaving her on the floor alone and cold, maybe he could have caught the bastards that had hurt her while he was still travelling back from deployment after agreeing to hang back and finish his paperwork there and then instead of emailing it across.

he reached a shaking hand forward and blew out a ragged breath when his hand met nothing but frigid air. but when he brought his hand up to his face he could smell the copper tang of his dead wife’s blood on his skin. the stench unwashable, cloying, but if he concentrated hard enough it ever so faintly smelt like the vanilla perfume she used to wear.

“was telling the lads about you, love,” he forced an empty chuckle as he walked around her to the kettle and went through their usual routine. “think they might’ve fallen a little in love, not that i could blame them.”

he ran a hand over his face and gave himself a moment to let the tears fall as his palm hid his eyes. her silence was the worst part of it all, but he could see the glaring red of her in his peripheral when he dropped his hand to the counter.

it wasn’t pretending his wife was still alive if she was right there at his shoulder, was it?

“looks like i’ll need to grab you some more pg tips, sweetheart,” he said and poured the boiling water into two cups, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his wife. “we’re almost out.”

post link

[pillowspace]

Moon and Marinette talking is the cutest thing. Sun and Moon feeling bad for this child who was locked out and killed.

[pincushionx]

Defeat

Me when I’m a child soldier and fail my mission of protecting my only abusive family member

Now with following comic

Love to play with canon divergent of Hunter being loyal to the end if the events played out differently in the show. This is a colored sketch, I may make a funny rendered one in the future, maybe a little comic

Zoom in

[coockie8]

"I'm not spoon-feeding morals you should 100% already have established if you're over the age of 5 to you." LOUDER FOR THE IDIOTS IT THE BACK 📢📢📢📢

Look, if you have cognitive disabilities or whatever that make you incapable of distinguishing fiction from reality, then that sucks, and I truly do feel for you.

But at the same time if you're over the age of like 12 and still need a book to tell you rape and murder are bad, then maybe you just shouldn't be reading books that are about rape and murder ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

Like I'm sorry, but if you know you have a tendency to act out what you read, then you should know better than to read morally grey books that don't word-for-word tell you that the actions taken by the morally grey characters within are bad and you shouldn't emulated them. Your mental illness does not absolve you of the responsibility of your actions, actually. I know, shocking.

Unfortunately this will limit you to media designed for children, because media designed for adults is going to go in assuming you already know not to act out bad things that you read.

[seraphont]

In one of your comics, you show the drones drinking coolant as if it's some form of alcohol. Wouldn't the presence of this coolant kind of negate the solver drones need for oil? Or does this coolant not work with their system?

it def helps, and I’m kinda treating the drones like they were made to reflect human anatomy. so while the coolant will help with overheating in small doses, it doesn’t get processed through their system correctly in large doses. it makes them extremely sluggish and their processes are slowed for a period of time -like being inebriated.

For the DD’s, at least in my AU, I have them chockablock full of healing nanites/anti nanite acid (in their spit) so their bodies repair incredibly fast, it eats away at anything that’s not oil in their system. They’re essentially heavy weights LOL.

[ananxiousgenz]

hey so I normally don't make political posts because it gets me really upset and i dont want to get involved with all of it but I am currently beyond pissed.

nex benedict, the 16 year old from oklahoma who died after being beaten by classmates in their school bathroom, just had their death ruled a suicide.

a fucking suicide. because they had antidepressants and antihistamines in their system.

one of my nonbinary siblings was MURDERED by classmates for being themselves and you dare to rule it a suicide because they were depressed and took allergy medication??? how cruel and closed minded to you have to be to deny that the beating had any role in their death?? if they had been a cisgender woman, you can bet those classmates would already have been charged with homicide, but no. instead you claim they brought it on themselves. they caused it. they are at fault here.

my heart is burning with grief and rage. I'm not going to make many political statements on this account but I'm making one now: I STAND WITH MY TRANS AND NONBINARY SIBLINGS. WE DESERVE TO LIVE.

JUSTICE FOR NEX BENEDICT.

[naswoop]

No you're not.

(Yes I am still obsessed with this au)

[lemm-moxx]

One of Killer's bodacious babes bodacioushoislly ends him 🤕

[canisalbus]

Speaking of paintings, I always imagined Machete's assassination (or, how they found him) to be something like The Death of Marat  (amazing painting and last year I even got to see it in person.)

(The Death of Marat by Jacques-Louis David, 1793)

Really cool that you got to see it in person!

For some reason Machete gets compared to this painting quite often, especially if there's a bath involved. Even if he's just. Chilling in the tub, very much not dead.

[chaoticretwtau]

[svnnyd4ys]

sfth moments as headlines

(idk if this makes sense, i literally had surgery today and i'm making these to distract myself lmao)

[signanothername]

Reading your head canon, I am surprised that each Murder agreed to work with Nightmare instead of a duel to death and be passively aggressive instead of fully aggressive and non-compliant, and use any knowledge of Nightmare and Killer to hit them where it hurts. Since Nightmare cannot destroy AUs like Error, Murder's only fear would be his own death, not due to the pain, but because of his own self-penance to haunt Dusttale alone and stop the human. Like when he is "recruited" by Nightmare or as you mention in your head canon, brought back by Killer, I would still think Murder would make sure the fights either end with his win or his death. After all, Murder values his autonomy and freedom. Because even if Murder is an adaptive, intelligent tactician, he is still a mortal compared to Nightmare, he would realize he has reached a dead end, so death is the only option, compared to working with two people that remind of the human that he hates. Well, the only reason I see Murder pretending to be compliant is to probably plan a betrayal and join Dream, as Dream is the only weapon against Nightmare, maybe even try to train him, because he doesn't care about Dream, but Nightmare is as bad or worse than the human, so by Murder's logic, he should be put down. Otherwise he has no ability to travel home or power to harm Nightmare, so as mentioned above death is the only other option. Over all, it could be argued that every Murder!Sans has a lot of reasons to defy or fight Nightmare, even if it causes his death. Plus I still think Murder vs Killer wouldn't be so one sided for Killer, since Murder, as Sans spent more time improving his skills during the resets compared to the loads Killer, as Sans spent fighting Chara over and over. So beside loading, I still think Murder might have an edge in battle experience and intelligence.

The ask Anon is referring to for context <33

Oh Murder was not compliant, not at all Anon, in fact, that’s exactly why I think Murder gets replaced the most, it’s because of how non-compliant he is, I don’t think Murder would ever agree to join the gang, I never said he would

You’ll notice I only talked about his passive aggressiveness with Killer specifically in the Murder Time Trio ask, and in fact, do talk about how Murder would pry into Killer’s private matters all just to piss him off, I never went on about Murder’s relationship with Nightmare in depth

And I didn’t go in depth cause the previous ask was for the Murder Time Trio as a whole, and their relationship with each other, so I couldn’t just talk about Murder in depth or in much detail as I wanted cause otherwise I would’ve absolutely diverted from the main point of that ask

But now that I have this beautiful ask I can actually go in depth as much as I want >:)

And you’re absolutely right that Nightmare can’t destroy AUs, the most Nightmare could do is lay waste to the Au, but Dusttale is already a wasteland so nothing much Nightmare could do there, that’s exactly why I say that Murder would try his luck and run back to his Au (and continue on doing it over and over), and it’s exactly why I say that Nightmare struggles with controlling Murder the most, cause Nightmare has no true power over him mentally, Murder doesn’t care about dying by Nightmare’s hand and he knows he could try his luck as much as Nightmare’s patience allows

Murder would definitely perfer death over being under Nightmare, cause if he can’t be useful enough to save his Au from the human what’s the point?

In fact allow me to be bold and say that I wholeheartedly believe Murder is also the hardest to “recruit” by Nightmare, cause I genuinely believe that in some timelines, the Murder that was supposed to be recruited by Nightmare just offed himself before Nightmare could get ahold of him, cause again, better death than be taken away from his Au, something that Nightmare has grown wise to and usually tries to knock Murder out before he tries such extreme measures, then later Nightmare controls Murder in certain ways once he’s got Murder under him

But here’s the thing, when we talk about Murder and Nightmare’s relationship, only looking at one side of the coin (in this context Murder) is missing the point in my humble opinion, cause yes, Murder does prefer death, and yes Murder would be aggressive and noncompliant, but how does Nightmare deal with that? Cause in every relationship there are multiple sides to look at, not just one

Cause while Murder prefers death, wouldn’t it make sense to also believe that Murder would want to preserve his life to be able to get back to his Au and stop the human? I mean Murder cares this much about his Au doesn’t he?

And that’s exactly why I previously mentioned Nightmare’s emotional/mental manipulation tactics, Nightmare knows Murder would try to preserve his life IF he has hope he can get back to his Au, so Nightmare LETS Murder get back to his Au from time to time, all to give Murder the false hope that he can get away, that false hope contributes to Murder thinking that death isn’t the only way out, further lengthening Murder’s stay under Nightmare, all while Nightmare uses the “you can go back to your Aus” card as some sort of reward for “good work”, to condition Murder to (very reluctantly) work for Nightmare to get this “reward”, all while “bad behavior” aka Murder trying to run back to his Au on his own (which literally doesn’t work cause Murder doesn’t have the ability to hop between Aus) means Nightmare punishes Murder by forbidding him from going to his Au, which usually ends with Murder clawing at Nightmare, which only further worsens his punishment

So as time goes on you can imagine Nightmare understanding Murder enough to be able to get to a point in which he can condition Murder enough so he becomes a bit less hostile just to get his chances to get back to his Au, only to be dragged back by Killer when Nightmare deems Murder has had enough “home time”

And here’s an interesting question, why won’t Nightmare go himself to get Murder back from his Au? It’ll be a lot easier and less time and source consuming wouldn’t it?

And to me? No it’s not cause he’s an all mighty King and he just sits on his ass doing nothing and lets his underlings do the dirty work for him (cause while i believe Nightmare deems some things as “beneath him” I despise the idea that Nightmare is an absolute lazy bitch that doesn’t do anything but monologue, which is why I interpret Nightmare my own way) in fact, I like to think Nightmare is so fucking obsessed with being in control, that in fact he’s sure to keep everything under his watchful eye, he knows every little thing about his prey (in this instance it’s the Murder Time Trio) he knows what they do, how, and when, he knows every little weakness and every little strength they hold, he understands them to the littlest detail in order to keep control over them

And in my interpretation of Nightmare, sending Killer instead of going himself is just another manipulation tactic, Nightmare knows Murder would be a bit confident in his ability to fight (and even win) against Killer, something that he won’t believe if it was Nightmare himself that came to get him, it further engraves that false hope that Murder can get away one day, if (or “when” in Murder’s view) he wins against Killer

Which brings me to the question, is Killer vs Murder one sided for Killer? No I don’t believe it is, in fact I agree that Murder has spent his time refining his skills and experience, however, let’s not forget Killer also is just as intelligent as Murder is, I for one think Killer and Murder are almost on bar with each other in terms of who wins or loses

I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m not biased towards Killer, cause I definitely am, it’s very obvious that he’s my favorite, so please don’t take my interpretation as an objective correct analysis of their fight, i’ll be simply talking from my humble (very biased) opinion

However if we think logically, Killer has a few things Murder doesn’t, and these would be 1-inability to recognize his body’s limit, 2-his soul’s stages, and 3-a much higher LV than Murder’s

Murder is at LV 19 mostly, Killer, while Rahafwabas has stated they’ll leave it up to interpretation, has been shown in a comic to have a glitched LV of 99999, which in my opinion makes sense considering the Determination Killer’s soul holds, and it automatically means that Killer’s stronger than Murder (if we wanted to get technical at least)

But I don’t like technicalities in analysis of fights so that brings me to the points I’m actually interested in

Something to keep in mind, is that Killer is also just as intelligent as Murder is, Killer’s mind moves just as quick as his body moves, he improvises mid battle and is generally very unpredictable, and to top it all off, Killer fights dirty, he uses any means necessary, and he doesn’t rely on raw power, but on his mind to win

Killer is also extremely observant and has a tendency to study people under a microscope, all while pretending he’s the stupidest most idiotic bitch you ever met, so Killer probably has Murder’s weaknesses memorized and probably already studied Murder enough to know how to deal with him during a battle

Not to mention, if we talk about how much experience each of them holds, then it’s really up for interpretation, cause listen, in my interpretation, I believe Murder has amazing experience, but you’re also talking about Killer, who worked under Nightmare before any of the others, meaning Killer not only has just as much experience, but Killer’s experience is vast and varied, as he fights a variety of people from completely different Aus, with different levels of powers/ intelligence, all while Murder only fights the same people under the same circumstances over and over (then again, this is really up for interpretation, your interpretation of whether Killer worked under Nightmare first or not could be different, i’m only talking from my own point of view, it’s not a hard fast truth or a correct objective interpretation, so please feel free to disagree <333)

Killer (at stage 2) doesn’t recognize his body’s limits, he in fact, thrives on pain, Killer could literally reach the point where his body would collapse at any second and yet still fight like it’s nothing, he’ll go beyond that point, Murder won’t, once Murder’s body reaches its limit it’ll immediately mean he lost, cause Killer won’t stop until A-his mission is complete and he dragged Murder back, or B-he’s dead, there’s no in between for stage 2 Killer

Which brings me to the point you mentioned which is the loading, whether Killer can save and load is really up for interpretation, cause as far as I know, there’s no canonical info on whether he can save and load, but I for one, believe he can, and how long can Murder hold his own against Killer before Murder reaches his limit? When Killer holds the same power the human (who Murder keeps losing to) holds?

Another thing to keep in mind is Killer’s stages, they provide a great advantage in terms of fighting, cause while I believe Murder can absolutely hold his own against stage 2 Killer, I don’t believe he’ll have much advantage against stage 3 Killer, and he sure as hell will not ba able to keep up against a stage 4 Killer, now whether Murder would trigger Killer enough to reach stage 3 and 4 is really up to you and what you like to think, I for one think if Murder knew about Killer’s stages, he’d be smart enough not to trigger Killer to reach those stages cause he would know he won’t win if Killer did reach them, however if Murder doesn’t know about his stages, then the possibility of Murder triggering Killer into stage 3 or 4 on accident is possible, which will not end on a good note for Murder

All that aside, do I believe that Killer always wins against Murder? No not at all, I actually like to believe that sometimes Killer wins, other times Murder wins, and other times? Killer had taken his sweet time trying to get Murder who was holding his own pretty well, that Nightmare shows up himself to take care of it (usually Nightmare would be very pissed at both of them, resulting in Killer and Murder paying grave consequences)

As for Murder working with Dream, I honestly can’t see Murder having the patience to actually work with him, cause each second he spends with Dream is another second away from his Au, and I believe Murder is smart enough to know Nightmare isn’t very easy to take down, other than the raw power and intelligence Nightmare holds, if Dream was truly able to take him down Murder would think Dream would’ve already done it, Murder is intelligent enough to recognize working with Dream would be a waste of time and effort that could’ve been used on much more important matters (such as getting back to his Au)

The only reason I’d see Murder making contact with Dream at all is to only request that Dream open a portal to his Au, only to realize whoops!! Dream can’t open a portal to a place filled with negativity, which only would frustrate the shit outta Murder

Murder’s circumstance really makes me sad ngl, the guy just wants to be back home dammit 😔

[arthursfuckinghat]

Arthur has had a lot of bad close encounters, like Sonny, but sometimes I think we don't talk enough about the whole Edmund Lowry Jr thing.

Arthur was stalked by an absolutely terrifying sadistic serial killer and led to his hideout via multiple mutilated bodies and cryptic clues placed across high traffic areas on the map.

If you choose to find Lowry in his hideout, you will see a gruesome display of many body parts and carcasses strung up like christmas decorations all over the place. Arthur will get knocked out by Lowry after venturing in further and tied to the ground, he will then threaten and taunt Arthur with a knife once he wakes up.

This all happens in the span of like five minutes, and how did Arthur escape? He had to throw a severed head that was on the ground next to him at Lowry. And if being stalked, knocked out, kidnapped, threatened, exposed to a gross display of mutilated bodies, tied up and examined like a piece of meat wasn't enough, Arthur had to save Sheriff Malloy from getting his face bitten off by that sick freak too.

I mean, holy fuck right?

The only justice was being able to shoot Lowry, but he had killed so many people and he took pride in that, shooting wasn't enough. Sadistic is honestly an understatement, it's shown through newspaper clippings in the hideout that he enjoyed toying with his victims for long periods of time before murdering them. An article by the missing poster for a woman named Eliza Bloom in his basement stated that he enjoys his victims like 'trophies' - And Arthur was scarily close to becoming another one of them.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't write about the encounter in much detail.

"Found the murderer, man named Edmund Lowry. Took him into the sheriff in Valentine after he nearly killed me. He jumped the sheriff. I killed him. Nasty bastard he was."

[a-whispering-echo]

horror is having an actual soul attack in that last frame