#do you sometimes feel like letting out a wrenching scream over in the unlikely event of an emergency and amen and tk strand? because same.

[lonestardust]

I don't wanna be here, I don't know what to do. Sometimes I'd rather be dead, at least then I'm with You.

And is there a moment when it all makes sense When saying goodbye doesn't feel like the end? Amen Amen Amen Amen....

[romance-geek]

sleep my long, unbroken sleep (niragi x oc)

warnings: violence, blood

author’s note: it's been a long long time?? i feel like most of the hype for alice in borderland has gone now, but i've gotten the urge to write again. so sorry it took so long! i'm thinking i'll do big chapters every update since future updates will probably a while, depending on my mood. hope you like it!

summary: Kuroba Chiyori may be born in the Borderlands, but no way in hell does she want to die in it.

AO3 LINK

CHAPTER TWO: fires find a home in me

PRESENT

Chiyori crouches down behind a tree outside one of the city’s stadiums, where the lights are as bright as can be in the Borderlands, beckoning players from all over Tokyo to join. There are signs nearby to lead people into the venue. Having been a citizen for all her life and a child of two of the most ruthless Game Masters, Chiyori knows the usual haunts; where to avoid and where to flock.

As much as she likes to consider herself an independent woman (and she very much is a woman now, thank you very much!), she prefers being surrounded by people whether familiar or not. Those earlier years spent locked inside a library with only books and dust as friends truly did wonders for her touch starvation. Craving companionship, but knowing death could pry them away from her bloody fingers in a blink of an eye. Her eternal dilemma.

And that night, nearly a decade ago, a decade of murder and sin, death stole the ones who brought her to life. She who guided the fates’ scissors, who lured her parents into a game they had a hand in orchestrating.

Thus began her undoing.

She could never really recall the whole night, most of her memories were of after. Bits and pieces would flash to her mind at the most inopportune moments (resulting in many near-death experiences), and to this day she cannot say what events led to the single clear picture in her mind. Of blood, gushing like a geyser from her father’s headless neck; of his wide-eyed head with a mouth frozen in a silent scream, rolling to a still beneath the shaking legs of her mother as her pulsing entrails out of her with a katana stuck to her spine, like a sick version of a magician’s show but only nearly succeeding.

Countless deaths had she witnessed in her childhood alone, usually by the lasers that come to claim players with zero days left as she watched through her library windows while nibbling on biscuits. Yet, this was the one that had her hurling her guts, almost in tandem with her mother’s dripping entrails.

Chiyori couldn’t tell you when was the first time she witnessed death, but she remembered the first time her hands took away someone’s life.

In a bout of adrenaline, and because the rules of the game permitted her to do so (each weapon can only be used once by each player, to up the ante), Chiyori wrenched the katana her mother’s killer used and drove it straight to his heart.

Battle Royale Kill Count.

Pretty straightforward name. Like Battle Royale, except only the one with the most kills survived. It was unlike the fiction novels she had read in her little library home, not like The Hunger Games where it only mattered who survived until the end even if you barely killed anyone, or like The Lord of the Flies where an adult appears to save you in the end.

At first, no one wanted to harm her. A child in the Borderlands? Unheard of. But as the game went on, the timer ticking down, the number of players dwindling, she knew they would come for her.

So she had to come for them first.

The katana was of no use to her any longer, so she had left it on her parents’ killer’s chest as he laid facing the ceiling, like a crude cross marker for her two parents.

She spent half of the time left looking around for stray weapons, but most of what she found were close-range types. She didn’t want to risk revealing herself to the others, so she persisted in looking around.

In one of the many rooms there, she found tucked into the corner behind a pile of boxes a large jug of gasoline. Relief flooded through her body as she scrambled for it. It was perfect! She only needed to spread the gasoline around, and it would only take one match for the whole building to burn.

Speaking of matches… She smiled horrifically, her face a mess of tears and snot with blood dripping down her nose, finding a little box with a few matchsticks amidst the junk.

Chiyori ran on the tips of her toes to avoid attention, hefting the jug and pouring it everywhere she could. All of a sudden, someone violently pulled at her ponytail. The gasoline sloshed over her front and clung to her clothes as the jug crashed to the floor.

She screamed as she was dragged back by a man with desperate eyes. He held a small knife, which trembled in his hands. The man struggled to straddle her as she kicked frantically, keeping eye contact with her while seeming to be in an internal war with himself. He raised the knife up high with both hands, the dull glint of it invoking her to grasp for something, anything to defend herself with. Her fingers latched on a broken piece of wood, with splinters and nails at the other end.

With a guttural yell, akin to the sound of pigs being slaughtered, the man drops his knife to try and dislodge the wood from the side of his head. It squelched in his efforts, blood and bits of skin coating the nails. While he was distracted, she grabbed the knife and plunged it into his right eye and twisted.

Chiyori knew something was wrong with her when she relished in his pain.

He dropped to the ground as she pushed him off, taking the jug and what amount of gasoline it had left to dump it all over his writhing body. She grabbed the matchbox from her pockets. She took one stick and struck it to light.

For a moment, she stood there, transfixed in the tiny flame.

Then, she dropped it.

The man lit up in a manner of seconds, his screams reaching a crescendo as the flames enveloped him.

Vicious thoughts ran through her mind. Vengeful. Mournful.

Hysteria replaced them when the flames licked at her clothes and ignited her as well.

She tried to roll around, but the room was quickly filling up with smoke and grew with even more flames. Chiyori ran outside, flailing her arms to no avail as it only seemed to fan the fire. Finding a clear patch of floor, she dropped and rolled for what seemed like hours of agony but was probably only a few minutes until the fire was completely smothered.

Third degree burns covered her arms, part of her abdomen, and her left thigh. The clothes stuck to her skin. The smell of barbecued pork along with smoke made her dizzy.

She stood up with a pained cry and limped as fast as she could to the entrance of the game venue. From different rooms, she could hear the panic of the remaining players as they fought against the fire.

The screen that dictates the amount of kills per player chimed with each death, the only number to increase was under her name, as she lit the fire that killed them. Subsequently, the number of remaining players were slowly counting down. She kept her gaze locked onto that number. The only way the game would end was when everyone else died.

Smoke started seeping into her nostrils again. She knew it was only a matter of time until the flames were upon her once more.

Finally, the screen changed.

𝐑 𝐄 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆   𝐏 𝐋 𝐀 𝐘 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 : 𝟎

𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄   𝐂 𝐋 𝐄 𝐀 𝐑 𝐄 𝐃

𝐂 𝐎 𝐍 𝐆 𝐑 𝐀 𝐓 𝐔 𝐋 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 𝐒

The phone she grabbed at the beginning chimed in one of her cargo shorts’ pockets. When she fishes it out, the screen lit up with the following message:

【 𝙶 𝙰 𝙼 𝙴 】

♤　♤　♤　♤　♤

♤　♤　♤　♤　♤

𝐖 𝐄   𝐖 𝐈 𝐋 𝐋   𝐒 𝐔 𝐏 𝐏 𝐋 𝐘   𝐀 𝐋 𝐋   𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄   𝐒 𝐔 𝐑 𝐕 𝐈 𝐕 𝐎 𝐑 𝐒  

𝐖 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇   𝐀   𝐓 𝐄 𝐍 - 𝐃 𝐀 𝐘   𝐕 𝐈 𝐒 𝐀

The irony of her father, the King of Spades, dying at a Ten of Spades game to protect her and her mother… Were it not for Chiyori, both of her parents would still be here right now. Maybe they would’ve trained her in preparation for the games that she wanted to play since she was a child.

But now?

She wondered why she ever wanted to play.

After that game, she immediately sought help from her parents’ fellow game masters, but after her wounds were cleaned and patched she holed up in her library home with the intent to let her visa run out by itself.

Only it didn’t. Not really.

She thought she lost her sense of time when the number stayed at zero for nearly a week, only to realize that the Borderlands didn’t want its single native citizen out of its clutches. Whichever god that rules this sinful place, if there ever is one, plays with her life almost daily with its cruel tribulations, but condemns her efforts to die outside of the games. It is almost as if they want her to play in order to die.

Chiyori isn’t particularly religious, but she has often read books about religion and philosophy. When one has questions, one seeks answers, but none of the books in any library in Tokyo have ever explained the nature and laws of this place.

With the games not being necessary to her life and being the only way to die, she needn’t participate. And for a while, she didn’t want to either.

Slowly, she began to open up to her parents’ friends, but the Borderlands only took them one by one as each cycle passed until she didn’t have anyone left but herself and her books. But even books couldn’t give her the happiness it gave when she was younger. By that time, she was thirteen, still a child but now numb to the death that surrounded her. She started participating in a few games a year, to a few games a month, now nearly everyday when she realized that those deadly games were the only things that made her feel alive anymore.

Sure, she meets friends along the way, but they only die in the end. Sometimes by her hand. Such is life in the Borderlands. The sooner you accept that, the better you’ll survive.

When a good amount of people have arrived at the game venue, she stands from her hiding place and nonchalantly walks over to join them, hands tucked into her denim jacket, the leathery scar on her left thigh visible as she only wore cycling shorts.

The clunk of her combat boots prompts several of them to glance at her entrance. She coolly raises an eyebrow and runs her eyes over everybody, reading them almost like her beloved books.

Chiyori runs a finger along the table of phones, choosing one with a sleek black case. After it scans her face, she saunters to a wall and leans back to continue her survey of the other players.

“Hey, are you new here?” A guy wearing a long-sleeved neon green shirt asks her. There’s a girl with a thankfully less bright top holding his hand. Both of them are looking at Chiyori worriedly.

She gazes distastefully at his shirt. With a scoff, she asks, “What makes you say that?”

“If I may, miss,” the girl interjects, “You look like you don’t realize how dangerous these things can get… We only wish to help educate you.”

Their familiarity with each other suggests that they knew each other before ending up at the borderlands. Both of them had dyed hair, the guy sporting blond tips while the girl had long pink hair. The fact that the girl had no roots showing tells Chiyori that they must’ve only been in the Borderlands for less than three weeks.

No, Chiyori decides after a peek of inked flesh on the guy’s bicep, about as big as the size of her palm. It still has a cling film wrapped around it, so it couldn’t have been more than three to five days.

The girl knew the games were dangerous, so they played at least one, not very hard if they’re already at another. This is probably their second or third game. Most likely the second.

In spite of herself, Chiyori smiles at them. They might end up betraying her later when the game starts, but she appreciates their concern. Not that she needed it.

“Thanks,” she says. “But I think I can manage. You guys worry about yourselves, you haven’t experienced real danger yet.”

The couple looks at her, at each other, then they shrug as if to say ‘Suit yourself.’

Chiyori’s gaze drops to their locked hands as they leave to go back to their corner. A twinge of longing cuts through her.

She thinks the game should start any minute now when a guy with black hair almost to his shoulders and a few face piercings walks in hesitantly, looking around in confusion as he taps his hand against an ear. Her eyebrows go up as she checks him out appreciatively.

“He’s new,” she remarks quietly to the couple. “You guys have been here only about a few days, I can tell.”

The girl whispers, “How’d you know?”

“You guys are pretty obvious, as is that guy. How?” Chiyori nods to the guy with piercings. “Look at his hands. He’s patting his pockets, and from the shape of it it’s a phone. Where he came from, it was loud, so he’s here to watch a game but when he entered the noise was gone. So he’s new new.”

Chiyori can tell that although they’re impressed, they’re unnerved by her. As most people are. So she pushes off the wall and saunters towards the guy who is now fiddling with his phone, trying to turn it on.

The way he hunches his shoulders tells her he is a private person, so she stops a respectable distance from him. “Hey.”

He lifts his head up to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” His voice snaps, almost defensively.

She doesn’t smile at him, thinking he seemed the type of person to think it was condescending. Instead, she points with her thumb to the table where only a few more cellphones were available. “Your phone is busted. Take one of those.”

He sneered at her and says, “Fuck off.”

Rolling her eyes, she says, “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. Take a phone or you’re disqualified and trust me, you don’t want to be disqualified.”

He still makes no move to the table, so she takes his busted phone with a quick movement and throws it to the entrance of the stadium. The other players watch them, not wanting to intervene.

“You bitch, what—?!” His enraged shout is cut off when a red laser beams down from the ceiling and puts a hole into the phone. “What the fuck?!”

Chiyori locks her eyes with his, smirking at the contempt that he displays for her. “You came here to watch a game, did you? Which teams are playing? Doesn’t matter. You’re not here to watch. You’re here to play.” She shoves a new phone in his hands. “Humor me, would you?”

With a glare, he turns on the phone. Almost as soon as his face is done scanning, everybody’s phones start chiming.

“Let the games begin,” Chiyori says, her excitement evident.

𝐑 𝐄 𝐆 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓 𝐑 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍   𝐇 𝐀 𝐒   𝐂 𝐋 𝐎 𝐒 𝐄 𝐃

𝐓 𝐇 𝐄   𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄   𝐖 𝐈 𝐋 𝐋   𝐍 𝐎 𝐖   𝐂 𝐎 𝐌 𝐌 𝐄 𝐍 𝐂 𝐄

𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄 :   𝟐 𝟎 𝟎   𝐌 𝐄 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑   𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐄

𝐃 𝐈 𝐅 𝐅 𝐈 𝐂 𝐔 𝐋 𝐓 𝐘 :   𝐓 𝐄 𝐍   𝐎 𝐅   𝐒 𝐏 𝐀 𝐃 𝐄 𝐒

When the difficulty level is announced, almost everyone starts cussing or panicking, apart from Chiyori and the guy with piercings.

She is momentarily breathless as memories of another Ten of Spades game come to her, but she shoves them at the back of her mind and turns her attention to the guy. Hostile he may be, something in her wants to help him. “This is the last time I’m gonna warn you. It’s kill or be killed, alright?”

He looks at her almost like a puppy, the angry facade he keeps up down for a moment.

“Welcome to the Borderlands,” she tells him.

They enter through another entrance to go into the arena itself. She hears the guy mutter in shock when he sees the arena. Like the rest of the Borderlands, the fauna is overgrown intermixed with other weeds and plants, except for a rectangular patch of land in the center where it was just plain dirt. Ostensibly 200 meters wide.

At the end closest to the entrance they came through is a long table full of weapons ranging from bows and arrows to javelins to throwing daggers. No guns. There are three people wearing grotesque halloween masks and nondescript clothes behind the table, waiting patiently for the game to start with hands clasped.

There were 21 participants in total. You know what they say: the more, the deadlier.

The guy in neon moved to grab a weapon off the table, but one of the dealers stopped him from doing so by brandishing a machete to his face. “Shit!” He squeaks. “Watch where you’re pointing that thing!”

The dealer with the machete brings one finger up to the lips of his mask, as if to sush him, then wags the finger like scolding a child. The other dealers gesture for them to wait for the rules.

Their phones chime once again. “Rule: Players must race through 200 meters to get to the other side. Condition: Finish the race within ten minutes.”

Chiyori smiles grimly, realizing what the weapons were for. She drops her denim jacket to the floor, revealing the burns on her arms, and readies herself.

“Start.”

She sprints ahead of everyone else, zigzagging and changing direction at random intervals. Screams start to rise. Behind her, the familiar squelch of someone being stabbed urges her to run faster. Someone manages to run even faster than her, even with her head start, but who said the game is about how quick you can finish the race?

A javelin goes through the head of the player.

Not even sparing them a glance, she jumps over the body - because that’s all the player is anymore, a body - and nearly collides with the guy from before. He looks like he wants her to die, but contradicts himself when he pushes her away from a flying arrow.

She barely gasps out a whisper of gratitude before they both continue their run. The timer loudly ticks down from the stadium’s screens.

They are only a few meters away from the finish line when she notices a small movement from behind the tall grass at the other end. She grabs the guy’s arm and pulls him while still keeping them in motion, albeit going back in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing?! The finish line’s right there!” He growls.

“Look again,” she snaps at him. “Someone’s waiting for us.”

He glances back and confirms it for himself. “What the fuck kind of dystopian shit is going on here?”

“These games are never simple,” she says.

By now, there were only about half of them still alive. A few have run past the two of them already, but Chiyori knew they would regret not thinking twice. She runs to a body that has a throwing axe deep into the side of her neck.

A glance at the starting line lets her know that the masked people only have a few weapons left to throw at them, but she still remains cautious in her running patterns as she runs to a few more bodies to collect more light throwing weapons. The guy follows her example, a bloody machete in hand.

They run back to the finish line, where a few of the others have begun to realize that there was one more masked person to torment them. Their weapon of choice? An actual roaring chainsaw.

“I should have stayed home!” The guy with piercings groans.

“Would’ve been the better choice,” she agrees.

The masked person slashed their chainsaw with reckless abandon at whoever dared to come close. One of the players was using someone’s lifeless body as a shield to get closer. Another player runs to the side of the race track, but a laser immediately comes for them.

Chiyori glances at the guy with piercings, locking eyes with him, darts her eyes to the masked person then back at him. He nods.

Holding her breath, she assumes a throwing stance. She brings the axe behind her head, then extends her arm forward while at the same time letting go of the weapon while keeping her wrist and elbow firm. It sinks into the masked person’s jugular.

Trusting that the guy would take over, she whips back to face the starting line and grabs the small throwing daggers she collected in each hand. Just in time to dodge a masked person’s forward slash. She drops to the floor and rolls over, kicking them on the head to dizzy them. She jumps on their back and uses another dagger to cut their throat open.

With her legs wrapped around their torso, she rolls both of them over just as several arrows lodge onto the masked person’s chest. Heart pounding at the close call, Chiyori throws her remaining daggers and knives in rapid succession towards where the arrows came from, hoping to buy time.

She crawls to the nearest body, who is rendered nearly headless by a curved blade. She pulls it out, spraying even more blood all over herself and the floor. When she looks up, she finds a masked person struggling to remove a knife embedded into their eye socket. Stopping for a second to marvel at her blind but successful aim, she puts them out of their misery with a swing of the blade.

Chiyori looks around for the third masked person, finding them grappling with another player. She turns her gaze to the guy with piercings, who seems to have successfully dispatched his opponent. He has his hands cupped around his mouth, shouting at her, but she is too far away to hear him clearly.

“... over here!”

“What?!” She screams.

The guy runs a hand through his hair in frustration, then points furiously at the stadium screens. She follows the direction of his finger, to find that there is only less than a minute left for her to cross about 100 meters to the finish line.

With no time to waste, she tightens her grip on the handle of the curved blade and runs for her life.

Chiyori is only a few feet away when a javelin twirls through the air and nicks her calf. She nearly drops at the pain, but perseveres and limps as fast as she can.

The guy with piercings picks up his opponent’s chainsaw and turns it on with a loud roar.

He sprints for the masked person making their way to Chiyori and slices them in half jaggedly.

With only twenty seconds left on the clock, he barks for the two other players in the finish line to help him drag Chiyori to safety, but only one actually does.

They cross the finish line with two seconds to spare.

Their phones chime in unison.

𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄   𝐂 𝐋 𝐄 𝐀 𝐑 𝐄 𝐃

𝐂 𝐎 𝐍 𝐆 𝐑 𝐀 𝐓 𝐔 𝐋 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 𝐒

They all pant in exhaustion, bodies slick with blood. Blood from the masked people, from the other players, from them. Chiyori can’t wait to go home and wash it all off, maybe take a week off from playing the games.

【 𝙶 𝙰 𝙼 𝙴 】

♤　♤　♤　♤　♤

♤　♤　♤　♤　♤

𝐖 𝐄   𝐖 𝐈 𝐋 𝐋   𝐒 𝐔 𝐏 𝐏 𝐋 𝐘   𝐀 𝐋 𝐋   𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄   𝐒 𝐔 𝐑 𝐕 𝐈 𝐕 𝐎 𝐑 𝐒  

𝐖 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇   𝐀   𝐓 𝐄 𝐍 - 𝐃 𝐀 𝐘   𝐕 𝐈 𝐒 𝐀

She struggles to stand, waving off any help offered to her.

Hand still gripping on the curved blade, she uses it to cut away at the long grass until she finds a small table with a single Ten of Spades card on it. Despite not having the need for it, she swipes it and hides it in her bra.

Chiyori limps back to where the others are. The guy with piercings has blood dripping down his nose, and a cut somewhere on his trunk causing the shirt he has on to cling to his form.

“Welcome to the Borderlands,” she repeats with a smile, referring to before the game started. “I’m Kuroba Chiyori. What’s your name?”

Warily, he considers the hand she offers for him to shake. He glances at her face, at her horrific smile, teeth stained with blood. He takes her small hand into his much larger one and slowly shakes it, feeling vaguely like he is making a deal with the devil.

“Niragi Suguru.”

[slashiest-slasher]

for @slashthedice​‘s Frisky February event!

Day 2: Choking

Brahms Heelshire x male s/o, side Malcolm x male s/o  (expect mostly if not entirely male s/o while i fill for this event. need that sorely lacking gay content hunie)

To say that Brahms has an affinity for you is a bit of an understatement really. Even before he came out of the walls and all you knew of the strange boy that he was a doll, possibly possessed, he lorded over you.

When at first you didn't believe that the doll wasn't anything out of the ordinary, you let it sit days on in his bedroom. Then you woke up with the doll nestled in your arms, and you knew this was no ordinary situation. And then there was the day you tried to leave just for a night out drinking, and the walls shook violently, and you could hear Brahms screaming and crying from where you had put him to bed.

Or when sweet, sweet Malcolm made his move and kissed you just outside the backdoor, only for pots and pans in the kitchen to be sent clattering to the floor and a nice vase full of flowers he had brought was smashed against a wall.

Even though Malcolm was very concerned for your well being, you assured him Brahms was just being a brat and throwing a temper tantrum. He is, of course, used to being the center of attention, that you and Malcolm can always try after you put Brahms to bed.

It never came to that, because a few nights later you got a frantic phone call from your mother that your father was dying, and you very much needed to come home right now. It briefly crosses your mind that she could be lying to try and get you back. In fact, you're almost certain she is, but there's still the gnawing thought in the back of your head, what if she isn't?

You were so whipped into a frenzy, rushing about and trying to pack up what you were certain that you needed that you completely forgot about Brahms, to tell him there was a family emergency. Didn't even pay mind to the walls groaning and Brahms crying for you not to leave. Until you were trying to run out the front door, but were met with a solid wall of man. A very hairy man in a mask who had a good 4 inches on you, and held you tight and asked you so sweetly "Please don't go. I promise I'll be good."

You knew in an instant that this, somehow, has to be Brahms. With that lilt you're certain, and it could be a homeless man who has been living in the walls this entire time. But when you look into those dark brown eyes, you know. There's no doubt.

So you don't leave, you stay, for your Brahms, and almost nothing changed from your day to day. Instead of caring for the doll, it was an overgrown man in a mask who acted like a bratty child. Instead of carrying the doll, you lead Brahms around by his hand, and instead of holding the doll during the lulls in the house, there was a man in your lap who would breathe a little too hard whenever you petted his hair. 

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that he was an adult, despite his size. He was so... innocent. It’s why, despite loving to shower him in affection, you rarely indulge because of the time you sprung a boner you couldn’t hide. His touch drove you wild, but he had wrapped a hand around your throat and gave a squeeze, during a tantrum involving you kissing Malcolm again. You couldn’t go anywhere pressed against the wall, and your pants became uncomfortably tight. 

In the instant that his grasp was there, it was gone, and Brahms, horrified at himself, ran into the walls. Then came out at dinner to hug you from behind and apologize for hurting you.

You know that you should know better, than to feel that way, because you can hear him at night in his room, pleasuring himself while muffling your name. But you smile, and go on as if nothing's amiss. Even though there are some nights when you can't help but do the same, thinking of him holding you down and having his way with you.

And then Malcolm has to go and throw a wrench in things. You shouldn't follow him out to his car under the guise of helping him with his delivery, but you do. You know Brahms is going to throw a fit. And you shouldn't agree to go to the pub for drinks, especially when you haven't put Brahms to bed yet, but you do. You get into the passenger side, and you can see the front doors getting thrown wide open and his standing there, about to scream something, but stopping himself physically.

Malcolm doesn't notice, and continues driving. The pub he takes you too is decent, the drink are fine, the other patrons are kind, but you can't wait until he brings you outside and into the back seat of his car. You pull him in for the kiss, and his hands feel so nice slipping under your shirt end delving into your jeans. It's been a long while since someone else has touched you like this, and you relish in how he worships your body with his mouth and hands.

And the sex with him? It's sweet and careful, and even though he finishes first (inside, but using a condom, what a gentleman), he lays you down across the back seat and sucks you off until your thighs are shaking and you cum inside his mouth, and he swallows everything.

Every other time you've been driven home after cumming down a hot guy's throat, its been terse and silent, but how could it ever be with Malcolm? He lets you out at the manor, with a cheery "See you next week!" with a wave and a wink, and waits until you're inside before driving off.

The house isn't as much of a wreck as you thought it was going to be on the drive back. There's books scattered everywhere in the library, and a few tables are kicked over, a trail leading you up to the master bedroom, where Brahms is curled up in a tight ball, hiding his face in a pillow.

His head snaps up the moment he hears your footsteps enter the bedroom. There's a brief passing of relief in his eyes and form, which quickly morphs into anger as he rushes to grasp you by the arm and throw you into the bed effortlessly. He advances on you, shoulders shaking. "You promised you would never leave me!" his voice is deep, unlike any other time you've heard him.

You should be outraged at how physical he's being, but you can feel out cock twitching in interest when he crawls on top of you and pins you down by your wrists. "I'm the only one you're allowed to love. Just me, not Malcolm, not anyone else."

"I... Brahms, I have needs, I can't just ignore them," you manage to get out. Malcom, so soft "doesn't have to be something serious or one time". Mutually beneficial. "And I... Look, I can't ask you for those kinds of things, it is't appropriate."

All of that rage melts away, but he still keeps his bruising grip. "Needs?" he tilts his head to the side. It's like the flip of a switch, and that only does to excite you more. The cogs turn in his head before his body goes rigid, and his voice goes cold. "You're mine," he seethes. "I want to- I'm going to take care of you. No one else can touch you but me, no one else can have you but me."

He presses his mask to your lips in the facsimile of a kiss, and Brahms wastes exactly no time in getting you out of your clothes. Your silence is as much of an okay for him as anything else.

You didn't have any time upon coming home to clean yourself up, so your entrance is still loose and nearly dripping with lube, because Malcolm had been so worried about hurting you.

Brahms has no such reserves, and hastily undoes his suspenders, and pushing down his pants and boxers just enough to get his cock out. You don't have enough time to get a good look at it before he's thrusting into you, right to the hilt. He shudders and moans, rolling his hips to relish in you before setting a brutal pace.

One of his hands naturally go to your neck, and the other your hip to get better leverage. The pressure on your throat and loss of air is unexpected, but not entirely unwanted.

You can feel your orgasm building up as the lack of air makes your head spin, your chest ache, and your gut burn. "Brahms-" you struggle to gasp out, back bowing underneath him, desperate for the friction of your cock against his stomach. So, so close-

Brahms rips his hand away when he sees your eyes rolling back into your head and your limbs convulsing as you grip on to his cardigan, unable to do much else. His hips still, and you can see the tears in his eyes and spilling over his mask. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." His hands flutter to your face, cradling your cheeks.

Without saying anything, you lay your hands over his and slide them back down to your throat, making sure to press them down. You keep your eyes locked with his as they go wide, and nod.

He gives an experimental squeeze, both hands firmly pressed to the column of your neck. When you gasped moan and bucked underneath him, Brahms steadily but surely built up his speed to the same, unforgiving pace. He watches you closely, his heavy breathing audible behind his mask. Almost as if he doesn't believe you're there, under his hands, rasping out 'faster' and 'please'.

You might have slept with Malcom, handsome Malcolm who you share laughs and kisses with, but Brahms, big scary Brahms whose touch you normally shy away from, is squeezing the life from you and you're begging him for more.

It's the spectacle of you desperately trying to cry out of moan, cum spurting from you and you wildly tugging at his curls that set him off. Brahms lets his hands dropping and pulls you by the hips so he's buried as deep as he cums. He jerks and tenses up when ropes of hot cum fill you up. Brahms falls onto your chest, wrapping himself snuggly around you, not bothering to pull out quite yet.

His head rises and falls with your heaving chest as you try to catch your breath after the, in your experiences, most intense orgasm you've ever had. Your entire body is slicked with both of your sweat and your cum, which is going to horribly stain Brahms' shirt and you know it.

Brahms briefly lifts his head to admire the flush on your cheeks and the wreath of bruises around your neck starting to form. His work. He snuggles back into your chest when you wrap shaky arms around him.

"You did such a good job Brahmsy. Enough for me to forgive how badly you just behaved." Your voice is hoarse, and the mock disappointment is lost amongst the scratchiness, but you assure Brahms by running your fingers through his sweaty hair.

"I'll always take care of you," he mutters into the clammy skin of your chest. "You don't need other people, just me. Only me."

[risottostitties]

Hi! First time here to ask haha! Any HCs for La squadra with an Otaku s/o? Like she watches anime and even buys merch in secret cuz she's scared they might find her hobby lame and immature? (Also,what will be their fave anime? And genre?)

Oh boy let me tell you I have some THOUGHTS about these boys and their taste in anime

La Squadra with an Otaku s/o

Risotto 

at first he’s gonna be kinda confused, not gonna lie. Growing up the only ‘anime’ he knew was like, Pokemon and Dragon Ball Z but at that point he was too old to really get into Pokemon, and he never considered DBZ anime because it aired next to cartoons and stuff.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t appreciate s/o and their good taste. He’s the kind of guy who wants to learn about what interests the people he loves, and he loves you. So he’d honestly enjoy late nights spent binge watching your favorites.

Comes to realize that DBZ was low key his gym goals for the early years of him working out. If you bought him a ‘Swole like Goku’ tank he’d probably wear it to lift in, ngl.

Knowing your favorites he’d probably look to merch for his go to birthday or Christmas gifts. Considering the hobbies and interests of some of his co-workers, a scantily clad waifu figure is honestly a welcome change of pace.

Depending on the style or aesthetic of the anime (ie, is it goth) he would be down to couples cosplay, although he wouldn’t be comfortable with you posting pictures of his face or any identifiable features of him online

His fave is probably the original Dragon Ball Run, followed very closely by DBZ for the nostalgia bit. Something deep like Full Metal Alchemist (Brotherhood and the original) would also appeal to him

Is also a big fan of Beserk, disappointed by the anime. And Vinland Saga, not disappointed by the anime.

Partial to Princess Mononoke as well. He likes some Ghibli films, isn’t afraid to admit it. Thinks the score for Spirited Away is bomb af.

Prosciutto

Prosciutto doesn’t really get it at first either. Honestly? He probably didn’t know the difference between cartoon and anime until you explained it to him.

Unlike Risotto he might be a bit more judgey if you try to get him to watch some with you. So you gotta hit him with the real classics. 

But similarly to Risotto, he at least makes an effort to try and indulge in the things you like. He might not be as patient, but he tries.

Probably wouldn’t do cosplay himself, but would hunt down exclusive seasonal merch to gift you. He’d take careful stock of your collections and do some research to pick out only the finest figurines and posters for you.

Would buy that hella expensive premium bandai apparel for you too, might even pick something subtle up for himself if he really liked the show it came from.

Also back on the cosplay note, if you agreed he’d find the highest quality cosplay possible and have you model some of his favorites for him.

(In particular if you were comfortable in fem clothing, Faye Valentine gets him going)

He loves Cowboy Beebop. 100%, wants to watch it again as soon as it ends. Everything from the characters to the story to the music and the fliud animation that has aged like fine wine appeals to him. Prosciutto is a man who likes the finer things in life. He oozes class. Cowboy Beebop oozes class and prestige.

Also likes Maasaki Yuasa. It was his idea to go see The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl in theaters.

In general his tastes tend to lean towards arthouse type anime or bona fide classics.

Pesci

Pesci knows anime and has been doing his absolute best to keep it a secret from the rest of the gang because they already tease him enough.

He’s one of those secret weebs, you gotta know where to look. Your best bet is to look at his accessories. Is there a watch with a certain symbol from an anime you recognize? A lanyard with a familiar print? Something subtle that isn’t immediately noticed by people not looking for it.

He has a secret box in his room full of blue rays from his faves. He watches them sometimes when he’s home alone. There’s nothing X rated in there obviously, he just doesn’t want people to know.

Thank god he has you.

The two of you probably bonded pretty fast over your mutual love of anime. Hell, you being such an open and proud Otaku probably gave him a bit of confidence in expressing his interests too.

Yall are the weeb couple. Yall definitely go to conventions together. Couples Cosplays, the whole thing.

He’s a sucker for Shonen just as much as he is for the really good heart wrenching painful ones. 

He watches Boruto because he loves Naruto so much.

He would also tear up at Clannad.

Dango Daikazoku triggers almost a pavlovian response of heart ache.

So does Secret Base.

Ano Hana is probably his favorite, although even you’d need to pry it out of him. Its one thing that Prosciutto gives him shit for liking anime, its a whole different ball game if he found out Pesci liked girly anime

Fromaggio

He knows what hentai is. That’s about as far as his knowledge went before yall got together.

He thinks its pretty interesting though, so he’d be down to watch some with you.

Turns out he really likes action shonen. He got really, really into One Piece. Like, instantly. He likes the fact there’s so much to watch/read before he’s caught up too.

Another boy that would couples cosplay and be really into it. Especially if it continued into the bedroom.

He’s pretty go with the flow, so he isn’t picky about what y’all watch. Even if it isn’t his cup of tea he’ll sit through a few episodes on a night with you.

Fromaggio can’t tell the difference between a high quality figure and a shitty one. Its a crap shoot what he buys for you. Its more a process of ‘oh, so likes this character’ rather than checking the seams and paint quality and how dynamic the pose is/interchangeable parts. 

Definitely buys way too much in the dealers room because of this.

He tries his best.

His fave is probably One Piece, liked bleach a lot but never read the manga, Yu Yu Hakusho is another one he really enjoyed. The Dark Tournament arc had him at the edge of his seat and hype as shit.

Illuso

Had a passing knowledge of anime before dating you. Knew what it was, saw a few of the mainstream ones, thought they were enjoyable, moved on with his life.

Your dedicated interest in anime would surprise him at first, because he always figured it was kind of a niche thing.

Would snoop around your collection of manga/figures/plushes in the mirror world while you sleep.

Winds up reading a lot of your manga like that (he’s good at reading in reverse because of his stand)

He finds he appreciates the art style of 80s-90s manga a lot more than he does the modern stuff. He really got into Ranma 1/2 and thinks Rumiko Takahashi’s artstyle is excellent.

If you asked him to watch Inuyasha with you he wouldn’t say no.

Probably wouldn’t want to do couples cosplay, but he definitely has an appreciation for you in cosplay.

You could talk him into going to a con if you caught him in the right mood. It’d be a hard sell though.

Has a surprising enjoyment for J-Rock. 

Inuyasha is high on his favorites list, as is Ranma 1/2. Also a fan of Ghibli movies although its pulling teeth to get him to admit it.

Melone

This man has watched so much hentai in his life.

He probably actually knows them by title honestly.

He enjoys anime too, and is not ashamed unlike Pesci. Everyone already knows he has unconventional tastes there is nothing to hide here.

Melone enjoys traditionally feminine anime, especially Sailor Moon. That one has a special place in his heart as he has memories of his sister watching it with him when he was much younger.

Its more of a decompress thing than anything else, so he doesn't tend to favor heavy anime with dense plot and more mature subject matter.

He likes Maid Costumes. On you, on him, it doesn’t matter.

Doesn’t know a whole lot about merch and what makes something higher quality but he learns fast. Between you and him the Dealers Room at cons won’t know what hit them.

Is the type to preorder a figure he knows you’d like. And maybe one for him.

Buy him this and he’s putty in your hands for a month straight (SFW don’t worry) https://www.amazon.com/Bandai-Sailor-Moonlight-Memory-Locket/dp/B00UA9XB48

Sailor Moon is his favorite as I’ve said before, his favorite sailor scout is Rei. Is also a fan of Ano Hana, Violet Evergarden, and Toradora although he needs to be in the right mood to watch them.

Ghiaccio

He went down the Fate rabbit hole and we haven’t seen him since.

The gender bending grates as his soul but he is addicted regardless. There’s just so much dense lore that he can’t seem to stop going.

But also seeing how much care and attention is paid to the historical background of a lot of the servants is intriguing to him. Its the perfect blend of accurate and harem trash that infuriates him but also leaves him needing to know more.

He hasn’t played every game but he has Grand Order on his phone and has sunk an ungodly amount of money into the gacha trying to get his favorite (Its Jeanne Alter, in case anyone was wondering) and has seen all the anime (His favorite is the cooking spin off because its surprisingly calming to watch)

Fate Zero is probably his favorite ‘serious’ Fate adaptation. He enjoys the gravitas of the Holy Grail Wars (and hates how it was tossed out the fucking window in UBW/Stay Night/Heavens Feel) and the ritual aspect to the summoning and foreshadowing of future events as well as hints at a deeper magical lore in the universe hit all the right spots in his lizard brain.

The fact every fate anime has a different version of Saber (or a Saber Clone) pisses him off too.

He really loves Fate. And will scream about it for hours at you.

Getting him to watch or talk about anything else is like pulling teeth but he eventually relents because he loves you.

Its difficult to get through a single episode without him grumbling about something or another, but he tries once he sees its important to you. He does his best not to outright insult your favorite anime.

Can appreciate high quality merch as well, probably collects Jalter Figures himself.

If you’re comfortable in fem clothing, Cosplay Jalter for him and he will literally ascend then and there. Keeps pics on his phone. Would probably make it his background. He’s weak

Outside of Fate he finds he enjoys high fantasy shows. Historical fantasy pisses him off too much, and straight up historical drama would also have him grasping for inaccuracies.

Full Metal Alchemist is a non-fate series that he really loves because of the world building. The movie Maquia was one he enjoyed as well. Likes every Miyazaki film, don’t tell anyone. Cried (and raged) when Ushio died in Clannad.

In general he just likes really good world building. It has to be good otherwise he’s going to spend the whole time picking it apart.

[whitetigerdemoness]

I went full deus ex here to do some things and I have only slight shame. This is NOT the final chapter.

Foxes will often fight by standing on their hindlegs and placing their forelegs on their opponent’s chest. They try to push each other over in a trial of strength. The loser is often chased and may be badly bitten or savaged if they fail to escape.

Master Post of All Chapters

Marinette wasn’t quite sure what happened after Volpina had snatched Marc away from them. Everything felt numb and distant, almost like Reverser had altered her again but without the clarity.

“Is she going to be ok?” She heard distantly. The voice sounded worried. Worried about her. Someone was worried about her, why were they worried about her?

“She is in shock. It is not surprising, considering recent events.” A man, older. Who? Did it matter? Nothing she did mattered. Every time she thought they had finally won, fate cruelly laughed at her and kicked her in the face.

“Dude, you of ALL people don’t get to say shit about this.” Boy. Younger. Angry. She could relate. She was...she was angry.

“Nino...please. Not now.” Why not now? Now was the perfect time to be angry, to be frustrated. 

“Why do things keep falling apart?” She asked, angry tears pooling in her eyes. 

“Marinette? Are you back with us? Are you ok?” Tiki.

Marinette rubbed the tears from her eyes and struggled to focus. The red kwami was hovering close, looking very concerned. There was a warm pressure on both sides. Sitting to her left was Luka, gently rubbing the back of one hand. To her right was Adrien, stroking her hair. They both looked very tired. Dry tear tracks dirtied Adrien’s face. Sometime between Volpina’s latest dirty trick and now they had moved indoors. Inside (Marinette noted the decor) the Agreste mansion? Standing around them were the miraculous holders who had been at the battle, including a remorseful looking Gabriel Agreste and...Marinette rubbed at her eyes again.

“Are you...Emilie Agreste?” She gasped, wondering if she was still in shock and hallucinating. The woman she had only seen in photos gave her a strained smile.

“Yes, though I’m not entirely up to date on events. It seems I have been...asleep.” Marinette’s mind spun. Adrien squeezed her shoulder.

“Your Miraculous Cure healed her.” He explained. “Believe me, we were all just as shocked when she called my father’s phone. Apparently your ladybugs dropped her in his study.”

“Wh-why-HOW?” She spluttered. “I’ve used my miraculous cure dozens of times, why do this NOW?” 

“Your cure can’t fix what you don’t know about. Well, sort of.” Tiki began to explain. “The cure works off of what you think should be right. So when the ladybugs fix akuma damage, it’s because you think that is wrong. You don’t have to know everything that broke or everyone that got hurt, just that they shouldn’t be.” 

“If I had known it was that simple...I would have still been after your miraculous but I would have explained. I cannot begin to tell you how deeply sorry, and grateful I am Ladybug.” Gabriel said, holding Emilie close. “I know that in no way excuses what I’ve done to this city, or to your personally but believe me when I say I want nothing more to do with the miraculous.” 

“You MURDERED dozens of innocent people, and you think you can just say SORRY?!” Alya stepped forward, jabbing him in the chest with a finger. Emile looked shocked, taking a step back from him.

“You what?”

“Volpina is the one responsible for this morning’s...unfortunate events.” Nathalie defended. Alya wasn’t hearing it.

“Volpina? You mean the akuma HE created? The one that, unlike Penknight, he could still control? You think we’re going to buy that?!” Alya demanded. 

“Stop.” Luka’s voice cut through the growing argument. “Persecution can come later. We have bigger problems right now.” He looked down at her and continued “Penknight is tearing apart the city looking for Marc. We would have sent someone after him but…” He winced.

“Everyone was exhausted, our miraculous are gone, and you had checked off into lala land.” Chloe huffed from off to the side. “My suggestion to just let me take the ladybug earrings and deal with him was foolishly rejected.”

“And unanimously.” Adrien added. “We all really needed the rest. Penknight is mostly doing collateral damage and it may be selfish to think this, but that’s nothing the miraculous cure can’t handle when we do take him down.”

“He’s right Marinette, things can be replaced. You can’t. Your health comes first.” Tiki said, patting her knee. Now that she was coming out of her shock, she noticed the other miraculous she had been wearing were gone. 

“Where are…?” She started to ask, patting herself down.

“You were exhausted and in shock. Even if they’re not activated the miraculous take a tiny bit of strength from you. Just one isn’t noticeable, but with the amount you were wearing…” Tiki explained. 

“We thought it would be better to take them off. Don’t worry, they’re safe.” Adrien promised. “Plagg is nearby too, gorging himself on cheese.” The blonde boy looked exasperated, but fond.

“So what’s the plan, Ladybug, and don’t think I’ll forget that you didn’t tell me about that!” Alya asked, forcing a grin. Marinette looked around. They were all so tired. 

“I guess I’ll accept an inferior miraculous to help sort this out. If I have to.” Chloe was studying her nails in fake disinterest. Sabrina nodded with more genuine enthusiasm from her side. Luka was a warm, comforting presence by her side. Adrien the same on the other. Marinette took a deep, calming breath and made her decision. 

“Ladybug and Chatnoir are going to take down one last akuma.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Can you hear him out there? The poor thing has absolutely lost his mind. How pathetic.” Volpina mocked, pausing in her detailed (and ever changing) rant about how she was going to make Marc pay for humiliating her as a furious scream sounded in the distance. Marc squirmed in the rickety chair he was tied to. He had no idea where the shadows had deposited them, but it looked abandoned. Dirt, dust, and broken plaster lay about. Plastic rustled in the breeze as it failed to cover the single, broken window. The brief glimpses of the skyline Marc had gotten through that window suggested they were a few stories up, at least.

Volpina began pacing and ranting about what she was going to do to him again (were we back to being boiled alive? Cool, Marc thought absently) the kwami of her stolen miraculous hovering silently as they had been ordered to. Marc’s heart wrenched as he watched the Barkk try to comfort a shaking Ziggy. His jacket was torn from where Volpina had ripped the goat miraculous away. Even more heartbreaking were the screams that kept drifting through the window on the wind. Penknight had spent the past two days more or less protecting him, only to have Volpina steal Marc from him as easy as one might candy from a baby. He couldn’t imagine how the akuma was feeling right now. His more pressing concern was escaping from Volpina. He needed a plan.

“Are you listening to me?!” Volpina demanded, slamming the chair he was tied to against the wall with one hand, getting in his face. The fox miraculous dangled so close he could almost...touch it...this was the dumbest idea he had ever had. Lunging forward, he grabbed the miraculous with his teeth and yanked. There was a brief moment when Marc feared his teeth were going to be torn out as Volpina stumbled backwards, but the chain snapped first.

“How DARE you-!”

“Trixx, Let’s Pounce!” The fox kwami gasped, zipping to his side as he was released from Volpina’s command.

“Trisch, Letsh Pounsh!” Marc said through clenched teeth. Apparently that was good enough for Trixx as Marc felt the transformation take him over. He saw Volpina realize what he was doing mid transformation and lunge at him in slow motion. Not even a fraction of a second had passed from completing the transformation to Volpina slamming him through the wall behind him. Wood and plaster shattered around them in a way Marc was sure would be extremely painful with the protection of the miraculous. 

“That is MINE give it BACK!” Screeched Volpina, tearing at him. It was all Marc could do to keep her clawing hands away from the miraculous that now rested around his neck. Calling the struggle going on ‘wrestling’ would have been too generous. It was mostly just Volpina attempting to maul him as he frantically tried to escape. During the flailing his own hand managed to score lines across Volpina’s face. As she reared and shrieked, clutching at the bleeding cuts, he finally managed to scramble out from under her. Filing away the fact that he apparently had claws now for later, the unnamed fox hero dove for the open window. 

“Shit shit shit.” He hissed as his leap thrust him into open air, the ground more than three stories away. Thankfully the miraculous must come with SOME sort of autopilot function as he instinctively hit the ground in a roll that brought him back to his feet, instead of splatting against the concrete. Two furious screams rang through the city, one coming from the condemned apartment building behind him, the other from further in the city.

Using his newly discovered claws to get to the top of the next building over, he headed for the more distant commotion. Volpina was so hot on his heels he swore he could feel her breath. The curses and threats she was screaming at him were certainly nothing he would repeat in polite company. The scenery streaked by him in a blur as he fervently hoped she would remain too incensed to remember she had more miraculous she could use. 

Up ahead he could see Ladybug and Chatnoir squaring off against an absolutely furious Penknight. The rooftop they were on was littered with gouges and odds and ends Marc assumed the akuma had created to throw at the duo. They hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Help!” He shouted, bounding closer. Volpina just screamed insults behind him. The next moment couldn’t have been more than seconds but felt like it took forever. He saw a lightbulb go off in Ladybug’s head, she shouted something to Chatnoir, Marc dove for them, Chatnoir’s baton whooshed over his face so close he could almost taste it as he limbo slid under it, Volpina’s screaming cut off with a choking noise as the cat hero clotheslined her. Marc panted as he lay where he had skidded, more out of adrenaline than anything. The miraculous protected him from being out of breath from his frantic run. Ladybug’s yoyo goes clattering across the rooftop as Penknight manages to use the sudden chaos to bat it out of her hands.

“It’s me!” Marc squeaked, jumping between the Akuma and Ladybug, Penknight winding up for another swing.

“Marc?” The akuma questioned, suspicious.

“MARC!” Volpina screeched, getting her wind back. Chatnoir was equal parts trying to fend her off and grab her miraculous. Any of them.

“It’s him!” Ladybug promised, retrieving her yoyo to help Chatnoir.

“How do I know you’re not an illusion?” Penknight hissed, looking conflicted. Marc stomped on his foot. Like someone had flipped a switch, the snarling akuma transformed into a beaming hug monster.

“You took her miraculous!” He gushed. Marc squirmed away from him.

“Details later, taking Volpina down now!” Marc scolded as Chatnoir went sailing past them.

“You’ll never defeat me. I hold more power than any of you could possibly imagine!” Volpina snarled backing up. 

“Don’t do it Volpina, you won't be able to handle the strain!” Ladybug pleaded, seeming to realize the vixen’s plan. Volpina just smirked.

“Wayzz, Barkk, Ziggy, Pollen, Roarr, Dusu, Unify!” What happened next was hard to describe. Multicolored light strobbed as wind pressure pushed everyone back. Volpina’s form rose from the ground and flickered like static, changing too fast for Marc to comprehend. The sound she was making was less of a scream and more of the universe ripping.

“We have to get the miraculous off her before they kill her!” Ladybug shouted over the wind.

“Why?” Penknight asked. He was ignored.

“How are we going to do that, My Lady? We can’t even get close!” Chatnoir asked, bracing against the wind.

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug shouted, a heavy object thumping down in front of her.

“Is that...an electromagnet?” Marc questioned, grateful for Penknight’s grip on him. For some reason his transformation had made him even skinnier than he already was. Of the four of them he was having the most trouble keeping from being blown away. Maybe it was so he could leap rooftops easier? The flute strapped to his back wasn’t any good for that, unlike Chatnoir and Ladybug’s weapons. Now really wasn’t the time to think about that.

“Is that honestly going to work? Are the miraculous even magnetic?” Penknight wondered.

“It’s magic!” Ladybug snapped, looking around the rooftop in an attempt to find clues on how to use her lucky charm. “It cannot be as easy as flipping a switch.” She muttered to herself.

“My lady, if you do that, what about our miraculous?” Chatnoir questioned. Volpina’s eldritch screams were losing steam. Ladybug looked panicked.

“We’ll have to hold on to them and hope, but if I’m holding my earings I can’t flip the switch!”

“Oh please, allow me.” Penknight said eagerly, turning his sword back into a tablet and passing Marc to Chatnoir. Ladybug hesitated for a second, taking in the sight of Volpina being magically ripped apart and put back together, then nodded, firmly covering her ears with both hands. Penknight chuckled darkly as he flipped the switch. Marc dug in his heels, Chatnoir’s arm iron around his waist, as the powerful magnet tried to drag him forward by the miraculous. 

At first Marc was worried the magnet wasn’t going to work, but then Volpina’s miraculous began to hit the magnet one by one with solid thunks. When the last one had been collected and Volpina lay dazed and panting on the rooftop, Penknight switched the magnet off. Ladybug stepped forward to check on Volpina, who only lay there and wheezed. Chatnoir began picking up the miraculous, handing the goat barrets to Marc with a smile when Ziggy zipped over to him for a hug.

“I can’t find her akumatized object.” Ladybug called to them, distressed. Volpina gasped a laugh and used the ledge of the rooftop to lever herself up.

“Oh, I’m sure you can figure it out if you think hard enough.” She mocked. 

“Lila please, you almost killed yourself with that stunt. Let us purify you so you can rest and heal.” Ladybug pleaded, hands out to catch the akuma if she fell. Chatnoir’s eyes trailed down to where Volpina was clutching her chest.

“No.” He breathed.

“Yes!” Volpina cackled. “My akuma might be second hand from that miserable wretch Prism, but at least he knew where to hide it. The only good idea he’s ever had, I’ll wager.”

“Her heart.” Chatnoir said sounding numb, “The akuma is in her heart.”

“You see Ladybug, no matter what you’ve done I’VE won! You’ll never get my akuma without killing me, something you pathetic heroes will never have the stomach for!” Ladybug looked horrified, backing away from the laughing akuma.

“It’s only a matter of time before I take your miraculous and- Hrk!” She coughed, cut off mid sentence by Penknight’s sword going through her chest. 

“Ugh, finally you stop talking. It’s a pity you’re probably going to be just fine after this, and I’ll have to go back to listening to your nattering.” Penknight grumbled, using his boot to push Volpina’s limp body both off his sword and the roof. Marc took in the akuma’s look of manic, wicked satisfaction as he watched the body fall and said:

“We have got to cure him.”

[verdigrisprowl]

Aug 20 Dancitron Movie Night - Gotham 10-12

Prowl continued to criticize the decisions of nearly everybody in the show, criminal and cop alike. He’s enjoying the show.

He skipped the second episode because he was warned that it was about needles in heads altering brains in a mental institute, and he was not going to watch that. So he put his avatar on autopilot so people would just think he was being quiet.

He’s been calling Zsasz “Zsazsa.” Whirl very patiently corrected him privately over comms, and even gave him a useful mnemonic device to remember his actual name. Prowl is deeply touched. Whirl doesn’t know it yet, but with this gesture he has fully won Prowl’s friendship.

After the show, he had a brief, intensely sappy moment with Soundwave. And Then They Fuckt.

Today NoodlesAtNight 7:51 pm *Soundwave is sprawled on the couch per usual. The drinks and snacks are as well, but on the bar, not the couch. They're not watching the show tonight, you know.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:53 pm *enter dragon, bearing snacks! it's the more traditional assortment today, although there's definitely more of those delicate folded and etched silver bars amongst the gummis and tinselfish. she's still in the bells and the mask, although she was kind enough to try and mute the bells tonight.* Hello, Soundwave! NoodlesAtNight 7:54 pm *Soundwave quietly sets aside the silver bars where nobody else can get to them. These are His.* [[Greetings, dragon. Your event continues?]] [[Ah, he is reminded. He was told that this is something like a very large bug, so he had Ravage find one. He hopes it is to your liking.]] *There is a refrigerated crate at his side. It has a Big Lobster.* _Whirl 7:56 pm *trots in and makes for the couch he delivered last week, immediately sprawling all over it. His ulterior motives have been REVEALED* NoodlesAtNight 7:56 pm *Frenzy drops off the ceiling with a shout, aiming to land on Whirl.* _Whirl 7:57 pm *JERKS, but just. In the last second he resigns himself to his fate* OOF. NoodlesAtNight 7:57 pm \\HA. TOLD RAVAGE I COULD DO IT.\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:57 pm One more week, officially! Most of the hatchlings will be out by then, but the late hatches can take longer. *the dragon stares at the lobster for a long moment, eyes wide* ...I think it will be, yes. *she grabs it in her horrible dragon paws, and ABSCONDS to the nearest couchback with her treat like an awful raccoon* _Whirl 7:58 pm ((if we're doin all gaga tonight... may I request Teeth)) NoodlesAtNight 7:59 pm ((YOU MAY)) _Whirl 7:59 pm ((seems like it would suit soundwave 😎 )) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:59 pm ((teeth! teeth! teeth!)) NoodlesAtNight 7:59 pm ((and ye i was in a Grump Mood after the water heater and rolled up books debacle so The Lady it is)) _Whirl 8:00 pm You just got lucky this time. *he hasn't unsprawled. If anything, he's gotten even MORE sprawled since being landed upon, if that's possible* ...isn't this the second time you've tried this? I feel like you and your bro have dive bombed me before. *will spare a moment to wave at the dragon* NoodlesAtNight 8:00 pm *Soundwave watches the dragon go, amused. He has seen nature documentaries with Earth creatures who act that way.* *He must remember to thank the one who told him about lobsters.* _Whirl 8:00 pm ((I hope it LIFTS YOUR GRUMP SPIRITS)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:00 pm *the dragon waves a wing back at Whirl- her hands are occupied pulling the lobster's legs off and eating them* NoodlesAtNight 8:01 pm *Frenzy scrambles off Whirl to flop to the floor in front of the couch. It won't be long before he's pulling snacks out of subspace and piling them up next to himself.* SCProwl 8:01 pm *arrives exactly on time like you do and makes a beeline for the nearest empty table* NoodlesAtNight 8:01 pm \\YEAH, KINDA. 'S PRACTICE, Y'KNOW? GOTTA KEEP YA ON YOUR TOES.\\ \\PLUS,\\ *He laughs, waving something green and spiny,* \\IT'S FUN.\\ _Whirl 8:02 pm I'll tell you a secret, Frenzy. *stage whisper* I don't have any toes. ...I'd be worried if anyone in this room did. Well, except the dragon. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:02 pm *the dragon has toes! four per foot!* NoodlesAtNight 8:03 pm *So that is how lobsters are eaten. What was the human doing with the weird cracking implement, then?* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:03 pm *just watch, Soundwave. once the legs are gone, those long dragon fingers are going in the shell and wrenching the carapace off. cronch.* NoodlesAtNight 8:03 pm \\SURE YA DO. ONE BIG ONE. RIGHT THERE.\\ *Points at the end of Whirl's foot.* \\LIKE ONE OF THEM HORSE THINGS.\\ \\ANYHOW, RAVAGE DOES. ALL WIGGLY, THEM.\\ _Whirl 8:05 pm *lifts his leg to peer dubiously at his foot* Hooves? Hmm. I guess they are kind of hoof-like. Oh, right--I forgot about Ravage. Well obviously he's permitted to have toes. *pauses to look down at him, amused* If you wanna sit up here, I'll make some room, you know. Chillsins 8:05 pm *BARELY makes it at a reasonable time with shiny clean babies in tow.* NoodlesAtNight 8:05 pm *...He's sort of reminded of how Cybertronians ate the flobsters. Maybe they really ARE related creatures.* \\UP THERE? NAH. DON'T WANNA GET CLOBBERED BY THAT.\\ *He points up in time for Rumble to do his own divebombing with a merry laugh.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:07 pm ((plot twist: Primus stole Unicron's OC, lobsters)) NoodlesAtNight 8:07 pm ((LOL)) _Whirl 8:08 pm ((PFFT)) NoodlesAtNight 8:08 pm [[Greetings, Windchill. Blue, Rebel.]] _Whirl 8:08 pm *bobs his head and beeps a greeting to Windchill and the Terrible Twosome, before returning his attention to Frenzy--and this time he's 100% caught off-guard* OOF. ...I should have known this would happen. NoodlesAtNight 8:09 pm //Heh. Hey.// *Unlike Frenzy, Rumble will get comfy where he is, if allowed.* Chillsins 8:09 pm *Windchill waves.* Yo. NoodlesAtNight 8:09 pm \\DON'T FEEL BAD. USETA CATCH LOADSA AUTOBOTS THAT WAY.\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:09 pm *attempts to beep at blue- it's harder than it seems when you've got a mouth full of lobster* NoodlesAtNight 8:10 pm ((get your snacks and stuff, starting in 10-15)) Chillsins 8:10 pm *Blue, however, hears a beep or two and sees a Whirl; she beeps back.* *Then screeches and writhes when dad doesn't IMMEDIATELY let her down.* SCProwl 8:11 pm Soundwave, can you play Scheiße after this? NoodlesAtNight 8:11 pm [[Primus. Is she all ri--]] *Glance.* [[...Really? All right.]] SCProwl 8:11 pm Yes. _Whirl 8:11 pm *he is absolutely allowed; Whirl sill shift a bit. he's still lying lengthways across he couch, but Rumble now has room to sit* I'm going to chalk it up to me being so incredibly relaxes. As you can see. *grand gesture to his sprawl-itude* ...Mostly because of that. I think she's suffering from a catastrophic Wub Deficiency, Soundwave. Chillsins 8:12 pm *Windchill submits and nonchalantly puts the angry maggot on the ground. He's not dumb enough to risk being bitten over Wub.* NoodlesAtNight 8:12 pm [[Music Wub or Whirl Wub?]] SCProwl 8:13 pm I've been listening to Earth music lately. *there's certainly more of it than there is Cybertronian at the moment* _Whirl 8:13 pm The very best kind, of course. Which is me. *now he'll scoot a little more so Blue has some room at the foot of the couch* ...is this song about Blurr? Chillsins 8:14 pm *Blue marches over with a gait like a Very Motivated Alligator, and isn't slowed in the slightest when Rebel decides to hitch a ride on her back.* NoodlesAtNight 8:14 pm ((does blue being a fly baby make windchill the grubhub)) Chillsins 8:14 pm *Windchill is alone again.* (( e_e Yes. )) NoodlesAtNight 8:14 pm [[Trying to find that one singer you keep asking about?]] Chillsins 8:15 pm (( Among other things. It's a maggoty mess. )) _Whirl 8:15 pm ((Your Fate)) SCProwl 8:16 pm Yes. Lady Gaga is not her, but I liked this one. NoodlesAtNight 8:16 pm [[And he does not think so, but he knows Blurr likes it.]] Chillsins 8:16 pm (( Rude. )) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:16 pm ((The Worm Fate)) Chillsins 8:17 pm (( It'll only get worse when he has more worms. )) _Whirl 8:17 pm It's very "him." *waits until Blue is near and dangles one leg over the side so that she can grab onto one of his hooves. Because They Are Hooves Now* Chillsins 8:17 pm (( That doesn't sound right but I'm not taking it back. )) Chillsins 8:19 pm *Blue is an opportunistic sort of bug and climbs right up the ungulate leg.* *Rebel doesn't make it.* NoodlesAtNight 8:20 pm [[Feel free to make more suggestions in the future, then, Prowl.]] ((five minutes! get whatchu need)) _Whirl 8:20 pm We have a casualty... rest in peace. Uh. ...*peers* What's your name...? SCProwl 8:20 pm Hm, all right. Chaoit 8:21 pm -and he's chose an interesting song to come in to, hasn't he?- Chillsins 8:21 pm *Rebel lays sprawled on the floor like a beached starfish while Chill wanders in that direction. Blue is one thing, supervising Rebel is another.* NoodlesAtNight 8:22 pm *Yes. Yes, he has.* Chillsins 8:22 pm Rebel: I'M REBEL. *She's loud okay.* _Whirl 8:22 pm *once Blue has a good grip he will set his leg down so she can transfer to the couch* Sorry, Windchill. We lost one... it's hard to believe she's gone. Sometimes I think I can still hear her voice. NoodlesAtNight 8:23 pm *Ah. And while he is talking to that Prowl, he'll send her the details for tonight's episodes.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:23 pm *the dragon makes an undignified noise as she tries to laugh at Whirl's joke while horking down lobster* Chillsins 8:23 pm She was so young. _Whirl 8:24 pm ((what about................ bad romance)) SCProwl 8:24 pm *a ping of gratitude* Chillsins 8:24 pm Rebel: *SCREAMS.* Quit telling everyone I'm dead! NoodlesAtNight 8:24 pm ((i just had to fill 2 minutes lmao)) Chaoit 8:26 pm ..... verdigrisprowl 8:26 pm *appears* Chaoit 8:26 pm Um.... NoodlesAtNight 8:26 pm ((and you are literally just in time)) verdigrisprowl 8:26 pm ((woo!)) Chaoit 8:26 pm Soundwave? What was that? NoodlesAtNight 8:27 pm [[Absolute nonsense he scrounged up by observing multiverse feeds.]] SCProwl 8:27 pm *Prowl has no idea what the hell she was just listening to but it sounded frantic* _Whirl 8:27 pm It's a hell of a multiverse out there. NoodlesAtNight 8:27 pm [[Indeed. Smokescreen exists in it. That's proof enough.]] [[...Off to a fine start, isn't it.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:28 pm ...They just killed him. Why? verdigrisprowl 8:28 pm *wow, he appeared just in time for a live dissection* Agooddistraction858 8:28 pm *trying really hard to pretend he's not already trashed* Chaoit 8:28 pm Yeah, it's...wow, okay, no verdigrisprowl 8:28 pm *pings, video feed for alternate. takes his usual seat.* NoodlesAtNight 8:28 pm [[To use his blood, he supposes. Though why they couldn't have found another way to do it is beyond him. This one leaves a trail.]] SCProwl 8:28 pm *pings back and takes it* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:28 pm Ah, there go the hatchlings, doing hatchling things. NoodlesAtNight 8:29 pm *Soundwave nods to Wheeljack - don't think he can't tell, but it's not his place to comment on that in public.* *Pings Prowl hello and settles in with.* Chillsins 8:29 pm *Windchill creeps up and seductively drapes his leg over the back of the Whirl couch.* Agooddistraction858 8:29 pm *lazy salute* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:29 pm *PFFFF* NoodlesAtNight 8:29 pm *Rumble looks up at the leg.* //...Ain't YOU supposed to be the footstool?// \\HATCHLING THINGS NOTHIN'. I DO THAT ALL THE TIME.\\ Chillsins 8:30 pm I've been promoted. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:30 pm Docent, no! Do not let strangers into the hatchling areas! verdigrisprowl 8:30 pm ... If she was trying to fake an accident, she should have used her own blood. _Whirl 8:30 pm Well *I* didn't promote you. *regards the leg, with amusement* Watch out, you're in a hazard zone. Rumble and Frenzy might have a secret third sibling. You could get divebombed. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:30 pm To be fair, I hear that humans don't often lick other peoples' wounds. NoodlesAtNight 8:31 pm //That third siblin' thing's a pile of scrap. Enemy used to ride our treads lookin' for a reputation.// *Grunts.* Chillsins 8:31 pm I promoted myself. Don't need anyone divebombing my groin either. *But does he move? No.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:32 pm BREAK HIS TAIL, DOCENT! NoodlesAtNight 8:32 pm [[Why her own blood? Would that not leave her identity at the scene?]] _Whirl 8:32 pm I'm pretty sure nobody was aiming for my groin. *peers at Rumble and Frenzy* But you can never be too sure... NoodlesAtNight 8:32 pm [[The human CNA. What is the... DNA, he thinks.]] Chillsins 8:32 pm *It's okay, Blue is used to this sort of behaviour at home. She pays her dad's leg no mind.* NoodlesAtNight 8:32 pm //Not in public.// \\PFFFFFF.\\ verdigrisprowl 8:32 pm One, she'd have to cut herself, and that means she'd have an ACTUAL wound to put to. _Whirl 8:32 pm *snickers* verdigrisprowl 8:32 pm Two, she wouldn't have had to kill the gardener. _Whirl 8:33 pm But--did you guys really have like, a fanclub of one? Chaoit 8:33 pm brb)) NoodlesAtNight 8:33 pm (🆗) verdigrisprowl 8:33 pm Three, blood kept on her face is no more likely to leave DNA behind than her hair or skin. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:34 pm *snickers* Maybe he's not such a terrible docent. _Whirl 8:34 pm Heh. Now THAT looks like a fun team-up. NoodlesAtNight 8:35 pm //Primus. Y'don't even know. Ever meet somebody who, like... they complain 'n moan 'n insult ya, 'n then they go 'n tell other mechs like "Oh, yeah, I know that guy, we're cool." Like they really mean it? That was him.// verdigrisprowl 8:35 pm ... Alfred shooting at the assailant might be the only time in this series so far that the use of a firearm was justified, and it wasn't even by a cop. No, they shot at the weather balloon. Two times. NoodlesAtNight 8:35 pm [[He supposes you are right about the hair. She rolled all over the floor. Some must have come out.]] \\HE AIN'T A TERRIBLE DOCENT. HE JUS' AIN'T HAD TO RAISE NOBODY BEFORE.\\ \\SO HE'S JUS' KINDA NOT A GREAT ONE.\\ _Whirl 8:37 pm Pfft. Not exactly. I think everyone knew what they saw was what they got... but I've seen it happen to other Wreckers. Lemme guess--your fan bit it? Did you happen to help him along? NoodlesAtNight 8:37 pm \\PLEADIN' THE FISH.\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:37 pm And that's why we have requirements prior to becoming a docent. Although, in this case... verdigrisprowl 8:38 pm *snorts. that's a terrible pun.* _Whirl 8:38 pm I mean, that's a good idea, The Dragon, but you know how it is, sometimes. ...I mean, especially lately. Lot of us got to be temporary docents.

*snorts at Frenzy* Duly noted. NoodlesAtNight 8:38 pm *Frenzy wasn't actually trying to pun. He's mixed up 'fifth' with the idea of sleeping with fish.* Chillsins 8:39 pm She's gonna explode. NoodlesAtNight 8:39 pm [[A clever little human, this Penguin.]] [[OUT LOUD?]] verdigrisprowl 8:39 pm "Out loud"? SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:39 pm ... Chillsins 8:39 pm *Rebel makes a face and climbs up onto the couch.* NoodlesAtNight 8:40 pm [[He is a lawyer. He WOULD find a loophole.]] Chillsins 8:40 pm *Snorts.* _Whirl 8:40 pm *scoots a but more upright to give her room and fakes a shiver* Does it seem cold to you? Like a ghost just walked through ya. NoodlesAtNight 8:40 pm ((SHOOT i forgot the warnings i'm so distracty today)) Chillsins 8:41 pm Rebel: What's a ghost? SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:41 pm *blinks* He just... Paid? NoodlesAtNight 8:41 pm ((belatedly: Violence, blood, death; police brutality and corruption; mentions of suicide; usual ableism per batman mythos; psychiatric facility abuse; needles in head; foul or sexist language)) _Whirl 8:41 pm (( o7 )) Chillsins 8:41 pm *Blue makes a face like a baby laughing, but no sound comes out.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:42 pm What a waste of good food. NoodlesAtNight 8:42 pm *Soundwave huffs.* _Whirl 8:42 pm Maybe we should hold a seance after movie night. Chillsins 8:42 pm Count me out. I'm not messing around with that stuff. NoodlesAtNight 8:42 pm [[Please do not infest his home with ghosts. One was enough.]] Chillsins 8:42 pm That's how you get your ass haunted. NoodlesAtNight 8:43 pm \\WONDER WHAT HAVIN' A HAUNTED AFT'S LIKE.\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:43 pm Ask Smokescreen? verdigrisprowl 8:43 pm ... That'd be the worst way to die. NoodlesAtNight 8:43 pm [[With a haunted aft?]] verdigrisprowl 8:44 pm No, I'm talking about the show. NoodlesAtNight 8:44 pm [[Oh. He did wonder.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:44 pm ... *huffs a little. poor little cat. she's a cruel one, but still...* _Whirl 8:44 pm I dunno. If mine ever gets haunted, I'll let you know. NoodlesAtNight 8:44 pm ((that said i was opening a chip bag, what way)) verdigrisprowl 8:44 pm Dying too quickly and unexpectedly to tie up your loose ends. ((i was about to say lol)) NoodlesAtNight 8:45 pm \\JUMP! JUMP!\\ //No, don't jump!// verdigrisprowl 8:45 pm ... Not—not face first in a bowl of noodles. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:45 pm Oh no. Chillsins 8:45 pm He'll live. He's Batman. _Whirl 8:45 pm That's what you get when you don't have legs that bend the right way. *shakes head ruefully* Chillsins 8:45 pm Pffft. verdigrisprowl 8:46 pm ... Although quickly, unexpectedly, in a bowl of noodles, and with a haunted aft probably would be worse. NoodlesAtNight 8:46 pm [[Face first in a bowl of noodles is probably also an unpleasant way to go, though.]] *Louder huffing. How wonderful you are in his optics, Prowl.* _Whirl 8:46 pm *snickers at prowl* SCProwl 8:46 pm ((original Ivy hiiiiii NoodlesAtNight 8:46 pm //Oh, hey, it's the Peeper kid.// SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:46 pm ...They named their mall after a parasite? SCProwl 8:46 pm Pepper. _Whirl 8:46 pm Peeper? SCProwl 8:47 pm Pepper. Agooddistraction858 8:47 pm Popper NoodlesAtNight 8:47 pm //No way. It's Peeper. She's always peekin outta doors and watchin' people.// _Whirl 8:48 pm I like how this is... bad cop, worse cop. Chillsins 8:48 pm *Chill finally removes his leg.* NoodlesAtNight 8:48 pm \\...HE GOT SOME MOVES, THIS BUTLER.\\ _Whirl 8:48 pm Yeah, he's pretty cool! I like him. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:48 pm *mrrps* He does know how to fight, as a docent ought. _Whirl 8:48 pm *silently and privately approves of the fact that his violence quotient goes up when he's trying to protect the kid* Chillsins 8:48 pm Fighting is an important skill. _Whirl 8:49 pm ((also i think it's hilarious that we're watching an episode called Lovecraft today)) NoodlesAtNight 8:49 pm *Soundwave glances over to Prowl.* [[How often did you have to speak with mechs like her to do your work? Mechs in high positions in the underworld.]] [[The criminal one. Not the one below the planet's surface here.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:49 pm *blinks* How did he..? verdigrisprowl 8:50 pm Essentially never. _Whirl 8:50 pm He can fight AND turn up the charm. I mean... props. NoodlesAtNight 8:50 pm //Aw, COME ON, kid.// NoodlesAtNight 8:50 pm //Y'don't tell people scrap like that when you're on the run!// SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:50 pm He's a hatchli- oh dear. verdigrisprowl 8:51 pm Not because it didn't happen—especially in Kaon—but because I wasn't the person sent to do it. _Whirl 8:51 pm Even I know that. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:51 pm "Scary," hm? NoodlesAtNight 8:51 pm [[Ah. Who was?]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:53 pm If you're so afraid, human, why are you so close to that large and helpful window? verdigrisprowl 8:53 pm Mm. People with social skills and a tolerance for shades of gray. NoodlesAtNight 8:53 pm *The people who truly run this city. Falcone and them?* Chillsins 8:53 pm Should have brought backup. NoodlesAtNight 8:53 pm *Soundwave trembles juuust a little. A tolerance for shades of gray. Yes, he can see how Prowl might've had a problem with that.* Chillsins 8:54 pm Bite her. Jim's dead, he's. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:54 pm I think he's unconscious. He has lungs, I assume? Those need air. NoodlesAtNight 8:54 pm *Rumble snickers at Windchill's comment.* [[Oh dear.]] Chillsins 8:55 pm (( SCREAMS there's a worm in my house brb )) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:55 pm ...Where's the briefcase? NoodlesAtNight 8:55 pm [[This will not go well for him.]] ((!?!? how but also good luck)) [[Taken, he assumes. If they know to go after him, they'll know why.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:55 pm ((mega git out of windchill's house)) Agooddistraction858 8:55 pm Swag _Whirl 8:56 pm ((Never)) NoodlesAtNight 8:56 pm \\PUNCH HIM 'N TAKE THE CASH.\\ _Whirl 8:56 pm Honestly. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:56 pm Bite him! SCProwl 8:56 pm I met someone in a similar position as Mooney's once. She was brought in for questioning about a fence investigation and I was asked to take notes. Chillsins 8:57 pm (( I'm okay. Worm is outside. Probably on my clothes from hiking. Ugh. )) NoodlesAtNight 8:57 pm [[Just notes?]] ((caterpillar??)) verdigrisprowl 8:57 pm "Notes"? *why not record it? was it meant to teach his alternate some sort of lesson?* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:57 pm ((I can't believe megaworm keeps invading peoples' houses)) Chillsins 8:57 pm (( Not sure, very small. Don't care what kind though tbh I have a phobia of all worms. )) _Whirl 8:57 pm ((i cannot be Contained)) Chillsins 8:58 pm (( It's gone now. )) NoodlesAtNight 8:58 pm [[And he hopes the amount of money the assassins are offering him outweighs her ability to steal valuable things. Anyone who can take in such objects before being fully upgraded is someone to be watched in the future.,]] Chillsins 8:58 pm (( RUDE. )) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:58 pm ((SCP item megaworm. containment procedures: nah)) Humans think very short-term, it seems. verdigrisprowl 8:59 pm She had a chance encounter with the local billionaire and befriended him. There's no evidence that she comes up with this type of loot on a regular basis. _Whirl 8:59 pm Yeah. I mean, all they gotta do is make sure she doesn't testify--I'm guessing that's why they're trying to kill her? That's not that hard to do. Chillsins 8:59 pm They do most things short term. _Whirl 8:59 pm Those street types are always looking for talent. verdigrisprowl 9:00 pm He should prioritize the services of pickpockets who bring high quantity, rather than high quality. Quality is luck—you accidentally hit the right mark, one time. Quantity is skill. NoodlesAtNight 9:00 pm [[She stole into his house early on, before befriending him, and took things then as well. She also raided a shop selling coats made of animal fur and would have gotten away with them if a pair of police officers had not been standing nearby by chance.]] Chillsins 9:00 pm Yes. Sometimes. SCProwl 9:00 pm My superior officer wanted to know what I could make of them. It was the best excuse he could find to get me in the room. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:00 pm Short-term as in years, not centuries. Chillsins 9:00 pm What's the difference? NoodlesAtNight 9:01 pm [[He does not know WHY coats made of animal fur are important, but Ravage has informed him that humans consider real flesh better than fabric.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:01 pm By human standards, three thousand, six hundred, and fifty days. Give or take. Chillsins 9:01 pm I don't know what that means. verdigrisprowl 9:01 pm Does he know that? Did she sell him those things? And "she raided a shop and would have gotten away with it" means "she failed at raiding a shop." That's not a point in her favor. It demonstrates that her ambitions outstrip her skills and she does not plan her escape routes. Chillsins 9:01 pm Centuries is just a lot of years anyway. NoodlesAtNight 9:01 pm [[Hmm. That is true.]] _Whirl 9:02 pm Even so--she's good enough as a kid to be a regular. Folks like this, living BELOW the bottom of the barrel, you take what you can get. verdigrisprowl 9:02 pm Do we know that? We haven't seen his other clients. _Whirl 9:02 pm At least, in my experience. I mean, he knew her. verdigrisprowl 9:02 pm We don't actually know whether her skills outstrip the lump sum the fence could've gained by turning her over. _Whirl 9:03 pm *shrugs* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:03 pm Where's the cat? _Whirl 9:03 pm I'm talking more about the crime lords than the fence, though. I mean, they were willing to spare Cobblepot because he's got useful talents. verdigrisprowl 9:03 pm Anyway, we're assuming that the choice was between "keep her services or accept the lump sum." The assassins might have already known for a fact that she went in—the choice might have been between "accept the lump sum or accept a bullet in the head." NoodlesAtNight 9:03 pm [[Another good point. There are many things he would like to have seen.]] Chillsins 9:04 pm *Sighs.* NoodlesAtNight 9:04 pm //Aw, come ON. I thought the lawyer guy was gonna be good.// _Whirl 9:04 pm Folks like that, with a couple of heavies to their name, a few flunkies who kiss their afts, and an ego the size of a city block, they love stuff like that. They COLLECT people. But yeah, as far as the fence--I mean, yeah. Best choice. Pissing off the assassins wouldn't have been a good idea. SCProwl 9:05 pm His behavior previously suggested he wasn't good already. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:05 pm *blinks* NoodlesAtNight 9:05 pm //So he got a temper. It's the rest of the - HAHA!// SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:05 pm HAH. _Whirl 9:05 pm PFFT. Chillsins 9:05 pm Dick. NoodlesAtNight 9:05 pm //If ya gotta go, go in style.// *Salutes.* Chillsins 9:05 pm Ehehehe. SCProwl 9:05 pm *huffs* Chillsins 9:05 pm *WHEEZES* _Whirl 9:06 pm Hell yeah. *offers a claw to Rumble for a fist-bump. ...well, sort of* NoodlesAtNight 9:06 pm *Bump.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:06 pm Riddling human! verdigrisprowl 9:06 pm ... Sorry, they're framing him for driving somebody to suicide... annnd... his punishment... is to be put in charge of the mentally ill? _Whirl 9:06 pm ((ED.....)) Yeah... that feels like a set up to me. verdigrisprowl 9:06 pm Does. Does the mayor think that the public will be pleased that a man who drove someone to suicide should be around people already suffering extreme psychological distress. Chillsins 9:06 pm Yeah. _Whirl 9:06 pm Something tells me they're gonna have a little "accident" for him at the asylum. verdigrisprowl 9:07 pm That just makes the mayor look completely incompetent. SCProwl 9:07 pm *rubs the edge of visor* This is going to end badly. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:07 pm I think the mayor intends for it to end badly. _Whirl 9:07 pm To the people, yeah, but the people aren't who's in power, Prowl. verdigrisprowl 9:07 pm Oh, I'm sure they will. I'm just saying—based on what the PUBLIC sees, it makes the mayor look like a moron. _Whirl 9:07 pm ((both of these kids are fun to watch. Very endearing <3 )) verdigrisprowl 9:08 pm Scapegoats are for "the people's" benefit. Always. They're the person presented to the public as the one to blame. SCProwl 9:08 pm ((i love them so much NoodlesAtNight 9:08 pm ((wee batcat is precious)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:08 pm Aw, that's a kind cat. ((d'aw)) _Whirl 9:08 pm ((D'AWW)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:08 pm Do you think your docent is stupid, little bat human? verdigrisprowl 9:08 pm If the mayor is punishing the scapegoat in a way that would look stupid to the people, then it defeats the purpose of HAVING a scapegoat. _Whirl 9:09 pm In theory, yeah, but I mean... this whole town's being run by a bunch of sadistic criminals who only get their jollies off by one-upping each other. I'd guess this has more to do with appeasing one of them. NoodlesAtNight 9:09 pm [[This assumes the mayor cares about his reputation. It isn't as though he can be touched, at present.]] [[He desperately hopes that will change. The fool needs to be removed from everything remotely resembling power.]] verdigrisprowl 9:09 pm If the mayor didn't care about his reputation then he wouldn't need to make scapegoats, would he? _Whirl 9:09 pm Yeah, I'm with you, Soundwave--put Prowl's got a point. He's making a spectacle of it for a reason, right? Hmm. Guess we'll have to wait and see. verdigrisprowl 9:10 pm *oh. this is the episode he was warned about.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:10 pm I am not sure that the mayor actually does need to make scapegoats. I think he's just trying to embarrass Jim. SCProwl 9:10 pm *sits up slightly* Chillsins 9:10 pm What the hell is this? NoodlesAtNight 9:10 pm [[Of course he is. We know he is connected to Falcone, and we know that Falcone is connected to the murders somehow. He cannot have anyone wondering why the man was murdered, or others will begin to wonder and poke their noses into things.]] _Whirl 9:10 pm It's live entertainment, Chill. verdigrisprowl 9:10 pm *why do those gloves have such HUGE NEEDLE FINGERS this is going bad already* Chillsins 9:10 pm Looks like torture to me. verdigrisprowl 9:11 pm *leans on Soundwave slightly, and quietly puts his avatar on autopilot* SCProwl 9:11 pm It's Shakespeare. NoodlesAtNight 9:11 pm ((ah i took them for knives, i did miss that)) _Whirl 9:11 pm They seem to be having a good time. verdigrisprowl 9:11 pm ((they are knives)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:11 pm ((I thought that they were knives too)) Chillsins 9:11 pm I'm not so sure. Agooddistraction858 9:11 pm Party _Whirl 9:11 pm ...you may have a point. NoodlesAtNight 9:11 pm [[That human isn't.]] verdigrisprowl 9:11 pm ((trauma doesn't take the time to make such fine distinctions)) Chillsins 9:11 pm Well. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:11 pm No one is having a good time, here. NoodlesAtNight 9:12 pm ((that's fair! i was just having a "damn, didn't think about that one" moment)) _Whirl 9:12 pm Y'know, out of all the joints I've been in and out of, I've never done time in an asylum. ...which is honestly a surprise to me. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:12 pm Ah, here comes the arrangement of "accidents" in Arkham. Agooddistraction858 9:12 pm Pff Chillsins 9:13 pm Looks like nothing to complain about. NoodlesAtNight 9:13 pm [[He does sound as if he is aiming for an excuse to demote Jim further.]] _Whirl 9:13 pm ((omg)) Chillsins 9:13 pm (( Hi Vanessa. )) NoodlesAtNight 9:13 pm (( 😀 )) _Whirl 9:14 pm (( <3 <3 <3 )) (( Hello 911 I need an officer on the scene immediately, I'm Gay)) NoodlesAtNight 9:14 pm *Quiet vent.* [[He really is not suited to this position.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:14 pm ((hello Gay, I'm dad)) _Whirl 9:15 pm ((HAHAHA()() You mean me, Chill? Yeha, I mean. Hell yeah, I'm not complaining. Chillsins 9:15 pm I didn't think so. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:15 pm Oh, dear. The littlest one is dying. Chillsins 9:15 pm She'll be fine. NoodlesAtNight 9:15 pm [[Never ever again? What did the last one do?]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:15 pm Presumably nothing good. ((OH WOW ARE THEY REALLY)) NoodlesAtNight 9:16 pm [[Denied her treatment for failure to pay, he assumes. Or turned her over to the police.]] ((YUP)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:17 pm Didn't she say she was transferred to an "upstate" docent group? Maybe it was that doctor? _Whirl 9:17 pm Love that window, honestly. Always liked a big clockface window. It's a classic. NoodlesAtNight 9:17 pm [[Hmm. True.]] //You want a window like that, huh?// SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:18 pm ...He's going to stab someone. Chillsins 9:18 pm Eheheheh. _Whirl 9:18 pm If I had a place to live, maybe. Wouldn't do me any good on a starship. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:18 pm ...Is he dead, drugged, or both? _Whirl 9:18 pm Praise. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:18 pm Hm. Dead. Agooddistraction858 9:18 pm These humans really like animals Chillsins 9:18 pm *Chill leans an elbow on the back of the couch, but that lasts until Blue glares at him.* NoodlesAtNight 9:19 pm \\IT'S CAUSE THEY GOT SO MANY.\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:19 pm ...Excuse me, but did she just call that therapy? Chillsins 9:19 pm Um. SCProwl 9:19 pm Ugh. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:19 pm That's a /torture/ where I come from. Chillsins 9:19 pm Then there's a problem with those operations. Bleh. Agooddistraction858 9:20 pm Sounds legit *chugs the rest of cube* NoodlesAtNight 9:20 pm [[Are you serious.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:20 pm ...No? No????? SCProwl 9:20 pm An inmate shouldn't have the equipment to do this. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:20 pm *the dragon shoves her snout into the hollowed-out lobster shell in horror and disgust* No???????????????? _Whirl 9:20 pm Yeah. Also, in a place like this, nine times out of ten, it's one of the staff. NoodlesAtNight 9:20 pm [[This is a being /under your care./ Assume proper responsibility!]] _Whirl 9:21 pm That's not to say the inmates don't get in on the fun when they can. They always do. SCProwl 9:21 pm They don't even have proper lighting. This is ridiculous. NoodlesAtNight 9:21 pm [[Primus, it is like the things he's heard about Torkulon.]] Chillsins 9:22 pm *Snorts.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:22 pm *this is interesting* verdigrisprowl 9:23 pm ((cmon, he's almost on your side, at least pretend you'd support him as the next don)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:23 pm ...I don't like this human. NoodlesAtNight 9:23 pm ((the way this guy talks creeps me out so bad)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:23 pm ((uh)) Agooddistraction858 9:24 pm This human is freaking me out Put him away SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:24 pm *the dragon is poofed up to hell. that human was CREEPY as the Eaten's own tendrils* Agooddistraction858 9:24 pm Frag Cheese? NoodlesAtNight 9:25 pm [[Keys, Wheeljack. Keys. Things that open doors and boxes.]] Agooddistraction858 9:25 pm No, cheese _Whirl 9:25 pm Maybe his family deserved it? Agooddistraction858 9:25 pm Jim needs to cheese _Whirl 9:25 pm I mean. Sometimes that's how it is. NoodlesAtNight 9:25 pm [[...Needs to cheese?]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:25 pm We have stories like that. Agooddistraction858 9:25 pm Yeah you never heard about humans and cheese? NoodlesAtNight 9:25 pm [[No.]] Agooddistraction858 9:26 pm It's gross, I don' twanna tell ya _Whirl 9:26 pm Lord. Stuff like this is why I never jockeyed to be in charge back when I was mixed up in stuff like this. Who wants the hassle? SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:26 pm Where the evil spirts infest someone, they kill people, and everything goes to the Eaten. *the dragon huffs* Although, really. Those all happened before docentry was implemented. We aren't exactly good parents. Agooddistraction858 9:27 pm Oh SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:27 pm Oh, dear, is that Aaron? _Whirl 9:28 pm Sounds like they're refining--yeah. What he said. Chillsins 9:28 pm Ehhh. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:28 pm Test, refinement, repetition. Chillsins 9:28 pm Drama is putting it lightly. _Whirl 9:29 pm ((cries cos she does the nose thing when she smiles)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:29 pm Besides, perhaps they're more interested in electrocuting people for fun than they are in actually "helping" people. Agooddistraction858 9:29 pm Prolly _Whirl 9:29 pm *nudges Rebel with an ankle* Hey. Vengeful spirit. I never introduced myself. Agooddistraction858 9:29 pm Why not _Whirl 9:29 pm Whirl or, as some know me... Wub. Chillsins 9:30 pm *Blue perks up* Chillsins 9:32 pm *Rebel makes a face and pushes Whirl back. HOW DARE YOU.* _Whirl 9:32 pm Pfft. He's happy to see HIM. SCProwl 9:32 pm *chuckles at Harvey* _Whirl 9:32 pm Oh damn, you've graduated to poltergeist. Chillsins 9:32 pm Rebel: A what? _Whirl 9:32 pm A ghost that moves stuff around. ...this Harvey guy is honestly great. Chillsins 9:33 pm Rebel: What's a ghost? _Whirl 9:33 pm What you are. A vengeful spirit. Raised from the dead! Chillsins 9:33 pm *Rebel pouts.* Rebel: I'm not dead. Chaoit 9:34 pm ((am back NoodlesAtNight 9:34 pm ((wb)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:34 pm ((wb)) Chaoit 9:34 pm ((someone nearly backed up into me _Whirl 9:34 pm ((wb!)) Chaoit 9:34 pm ((on the HIGHWAY NoodlesAtNight 9:34 pm ((😧 you ok?)) verdigrisprowl 9:35 pm ((look how much harvey's changed since episode one. 😸 he shows up, and things get done and move faster.)) _Whirl 9:35 pm ((OH DANG))) Chillsins 9:35 pm (( Geeze. )) Chaoit 9:35 pm ((I ain't sleeping that much is sure verdigrisprowl 9:35 pm ((I DIDN'T WANT A CAT FACE)) ((oh jeez u ok)) SCProwl 9:35 pm ((Harvey is such a delight as the show goes on _Whirl 9:35 pm ((he's the perfect buddycop 😎 )) Chaoit 9:35 pm ((I'm good, what did I miss? _Whirl 9:35 pm ...*8) don't eat my smilies rabbit)) You survived that fall? Damn. Looked dead to me. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:35 pm Oh, dear, Penguin. Whatever happened. NoodlesAtNight 9:36 pm ((bullock is a good egg once his cynicism and fear starts unravelling)) Chillsins 9:36 pm (( Dfdfjshdhfsd okay, surprise, apparently I need to go pick up my sister so I gotta wrap things up real quick. )) SCProwl 9:36 pm Or he placed you in it. NoodlesAtNight 9:36 pm ((WHOOP)) verdigrisprowl 9:36 pm (("examine your soul penguin" omg)) NoodlesAtNight 9:36 pm \\WHAT'S A BONSAI TREE?\\ _Whirl 9:36 pm ((WHOP... well drive safe!)) NoodlesAtNight 9:36 pm //Haha!// _Whirl 9:36 pm *snickers* Tiny tree. Super little. Chillsins 9:36 pm Rebel: I'm super tough. SCProwl 9:36 pm Wouldn't that be a bush? NoodlesAtNight 9:36 pm ((i'm sorry you'll be missing the rest of tonight, i hope you'll be here next week all right)) _Whirl 9:37 pm ((we'll be sure to re-enact the episodes for you as well)) Chillsins 9:37 pm (( Nope, I gave up my day off for someone else. =T )) _Whirl 9:37 pm ((you shall be missed ;u;/ )) Chillsins 9:37 pm (( Might be a few weeks lololol. )) NoodlesAtNight 9:38 pm ((aaaaah. well, i recommend reading the wiki for the episodes at least, when you can)) Chaoit 9:38 pm -is awake now- NoodlesAtNight 9:38 pm [[So this human knows too?]] Chaoit 9:38 pm ....what did I miss? Chillsins 9:38 pm (( We'll see if I remember lololol. )) NoodlesAtNight 9:38 pm [[About what is hiding below.]] [[Where did you leave off, Blaster?]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:39 pm ... Chaoit 9:39 pm ....Bruce ran off to escape? NoodlesAtNight 9:39 pm [[Ah. The Cat began to show him around the streets, they were captured by the fence Selina uses, and assassins chased them but were stopped.]] Chillsins 9:39 pm *Chill grunts and quietly, sneakily, reaches over the couch to tap his Large Spawn.* Time to go, ladies. NoodlesAtNight 9:40 pm [[Gordon was demoted because a public figure was also killed by the assassins; it was marked as suicide as an easy way to get rid of him.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:40 pm The nurse? _Whirl 9:40 pm *bobs his helm* See you three. Chaoit 9:40 pm ...ah SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:40 pm Yep. NoodlesAtNight 9:40 pm [[Now he is in the asylum, where someone has been injuring patients, and the director has been no help whatsoever to his investigation.]] Chaoit 9:40 pm Okay Agooddistraction858 9:41 pm what SCProwl 9:41 pm How did they not notice this before? Chillsins 9:41 pm *Blue sticks her tongue out, but climbs up Chill's arm anyway.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:41 pm Why did they have her assisting, then? _Whirl 9:41 pm *a farewell beep* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:42 pm ((cue grumbling about ableism)) Chillsins 9:42 pm *Blue BEEPS.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:42 pm ...That one human didn't leave his cell. Chaoit 9:42 pm Oh That's not good NoodlesAtNight 9:42 pm ((yes, i do apologize for this episode and the noooot great portrayals of different mental illnesses)) verdigrisprowl 9:42 pm ((to be fair if i was locked up in a shit place like this i'd stampede for the exit at the first opportunity too)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:42 pm ((yeah, I know, it's typical DCU shit)) ((I am gently grumbling, but I understand)) NoodlesAtNight 9:43 pm ((and yeah honestly i'd run for my fucking life too)) _Whirl 9:43 pm ((same)) verdigrisprowl 9:43 pm ((i see a bunch of folks reacting completely reasonably to the circumstances they're in)) Chillsins 9:43 pm *Rebel rounds herself up as well, still pouting.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:43 pm ((I thought she was an anti-vegan, not a vegan)) _Whirl 9:43 pm Farewell, vengeful spirit. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:43 pm ... NoodlesAtNight 9:43 pm [[It is not uncommon for certain people in things like human prisons to be allowed specific privileges. Cooking, for example. Perhaps that was the case with her.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:43 pm Cruel child. _Whirl 9:43 pm *snickers* Honestly, that's hilarious. SCProwl 9:44 pm ((Babs, I know you're emotionally compromised, but Ivy literally sounds like a child Chillsins 9:44 pm *Rebel crosses her arms and stomps around to follow Chill.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:44 pm ((I KNOW, RIGHT)) Chillsins 9:44 pm Bye, guys. verdigrisprowl 9:44 pm ((i mean. the fact that ivy sounds like a child trying to sound sexy is alone a good reason to be mad at jim)) NoodlesAtNight 9:44 pm [[Goodnight, Windchill.]] Agooddistraction858 9:44 pm cheese ginders _Whirl 9:44 pm Seeya, Chill. *salutes* NoodlesAtNight 9:44 pm ((TRUE)) _Whirl 9:44 pm ((YEAH....)) Chillsins 9:44 pm *Chill waves, and Blue BEEPS.* *Then the three of them are gone.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:45 pm ((I suppose it's worth asking if she really thinks Jim would do so)) Chillsins 9:45 pm (( BYE, I'll try to catch up later lolololol. )) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:45 pm *eyes the screen* Oh, boy. _Whirl 9:45 pm ((HAVE A GOOD NIGHT MY DUDE)) SCProwl 9:45 pm *pleased hum, called it* Chillsins 9:45 pm (( I'll be back online later, but too late for movie night! )) _Whirl 9:46 pm God see? All this posturing and conniving, just... bowing and scraping to people. Ugh. No thank you. NoodlesAtNight 9:46 pm [[Are the fish catchers THAT important?]] _Whirl 9:46 pm I'd rather just be hired muscle any day. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:46 pm Do humans typically get eaten by their catch? NoodlesAtNight 9:46 pm [[Well. We know who that officer works for.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:47 pm ((penguin's gonna kill the shit out of him)) _Whirl 9:47 pm *laughs* Hell yeah Harvey! Finish that shot before you go. Got his priorities in order. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:48 pm ...Creepy human. Chaoit 9:48 pm -slides down in seat- NoodlesAtNight 9:48 pm //Hell of a scene to walk in on.// _Whirl 9:48 pm Yeah, damn. verdigrisprowl 9:48 pm ((*intensely disappointed that it wasn't staff*)) Chaoit 9:48 pm Oh no... SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:49 pm *shudders* I feel like my fur was drenched in oil just listening to that human. _Whirl 9:49 pm ((me2)) NoodlesAtNight 9:49 pm ((agreed)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:49 pm ((same)) SCProwl 9:49 pm ((same NoodlesAtNight 9:49 pm ((though i do think they did a good job of showing that a lot of the staff ARE awful)) ((but it would've been better as staff)) ((not so incorrect stereotype-y)) _Whirl 9:50 pm Nice. *tilts head* NoodlesAtNight 9:50 pm [[...It's taken him that long to return to the apartment?]] *Waves a feeler a little to the music.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:50 pm *waggles her wings along, too* SCProwl 9:51 pm ... SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:51 pm ... SCProwl 9:51 pm Hm. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:51 pm I think. Chaoit 9:51 pm ...oh no SCProwl 9:51 pm Shh. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:51 pm He's going to kill his brother. AH. There it is. Chaoit 9:51 pm .......... _Whirl 9:51 pm Yeah. Saw that comin, too. NoodlesAtNight 9:52 pm [[So did that human, for a fraction of a second.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:52 pm It's one of those social things. Can't leave the dead not knowing. _Whirl 9:52 pm Now we're on to Tommy Edwards. Saving all the good music for last. NoodlesAtNight 9:52 pm ((one more for the night)) ((i love the opening to this one)) Chaoit 9:52 pm -if he slid any further he'd be on the floor- _Whirl 9:52 pm ((i looked at episode titles and I'M SO PUMPED FOR NMEXT WEEK)) SCProwl 9:52 pm He was asking forgiveness. In his way. Agooddistraction858 9:52 pm Ohhh yeah _Whirl 9:53 pm Hell yeah, Wheeljack! They're on a roll. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:53 pm ... Agooddistraction858 9:53 pm Yeeeeahhhhhh _Whirl 9:53 pm Cash! Agooddistraction858 9:53 pm *drums on legs* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:53 pm This is going to end poorly for someone. Agooddistraction858 9:53 pm Yeeeehaww verdigrisprowl 9:53 pm *okay, his timer says that that episode should be over. shifts as he comes off autopilot.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:54 pm ((eueueueue MENTAL AGE BAD)) NoodlesAtNight 9:54 pm *Soundwave pings. Welcome back.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:54 pm ((also, d'aw, ed's so happy to be manning the projector)) ((cute ed)) NoodlesAtNight 9:55 pm ((AWWWW YISSSS)) _Whirl 9:55 pm So, didn't we agree to re-enact the episodes for Smokescreen? verdigrisprowl 9:55 pm ... Is THAT who we were re-enacting the episodes for? SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:55 pm Ooooh, copfight. verdigrisprowl 9:55 pm *somehow missed that part during all the planning* _Whirl 9:55 pm I think so? NoodlesAtNight 9:55 pm [[Swerve is not here tonight either. He might need it.]] Agooddistraction858 9:55 pm Who plays what? _Whirl 9:56 pm Oh, yeah. verdigrisprowl 9:56 pm Ugh. SCProwl 9:56 pm Wait. Who's reenacting the episode? _Whirl 9:56 pm I think we decided I was going to be Harvey? But not the DA one. The cool one. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:56 pm Not me. I'm no actor. _Whirl 9:56 pm Spread your wings, dragon! ... metaphorically. SCProwl 9:56 pm That depends on the tone of the reenactment. NoodlesAtNight 9:56 pm *Soundwave shivers just a touch. This sounds like... well.* verdigrisprowl 9:57 pm *IT'S STILL IN THIS EPISODE?* *blip. autopilot.* Agooddistraction858 9:57 pm ff SCProwl 9:57 pm Ugh. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:57 pm *shudders more, and scrunches herself up* NoodlesAtNight 9:57 pm ((HE DID GET THAT WARNING FOR THAT ONE THING, I MADE SURE)) Agooddistraction858 9:57 pm *grabs two more drinks* verdigrisprowl 9:57 pm ((I FORGOT LMAO MY BAD)) NoodlesAtNight 9:58 pm [[Gordon is playing a dangerous game.]] _Whirl 9:58 pm I mean, to be fair, he's been doing that since day one. Chaoit 9:58 pm .... verdigrisprowl 9:58 pm *... tentatively turns back on. okay. coast clear.* NoodlesAtNight 9:58 pm [[Well, he's increased the difficulty.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:58 pm HAH. _Whirl 9:58 pm *laughs* Chaoit 9:58 pm -snorting laughter- SCProwl 9:58 pm *huffs* NoodlesAtNight 9:59 pm //....Uh.// \\THEY GONNA EAT THAT GUY OR SOMETHIN'?\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:59 pm Apparently not? Chaoit 9:59 pm -and he's slid off his seat doing so- SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:59 pm It seems a waste of good food, but... _Whirl 9:59 pm We don't know that they didn't. Chaoit 9:59 pm Yikes SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:59 pm Humans don't eat other humans that often, it seems. Oooh, a bakery. That's a lovely job. NoodlesAtNight 10:01 pm {{It boring.}} *A voice from behind the bar.* {{No oil cake.}} {{Human food only.}} Agooddistraction858 10:01 pm I could go for about 20 oil cakes SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:01 pm Maybe I should set up a cybertronian bakery? Agooddistraction858 10:01 pm Please SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:01 pm Riddling human! _Whirl 10:01 pm I remember liking them... but I can't remember what they taste like. Huh. ... *snickers at Harvey and Ed* NoodlesAtNight 10:02 pm \\STUFF YOU MAKE'S TASTY ENOUGH FOR IT, DRAGON.\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:02 pm Thank you! I do my best. NoodlesAtNight 10:02 pm [[Oh, leave her alone.]] verdigrisprowl 10:02 pm ((well, he wasn't staff, but he also wasn't a patient. i'll take that.)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:02 pm ((d'awww, ed, you nerd)) ...He made her food! How romantic! SCProwl 10:02 pm ((shoo, ed verdigrisprowl 10:02 pm *overheard oil cake talk* ... I'm sure you've already found the treat store in our neighborhood that sells oil cakes? _Whirl 10:02 pm Sticking bullets in things seems like a perfectly romantic touch to ME. ...but I don't think they're on the same wavelength. NoodlesAtNight 10:03 pm *Rumble looks at the snack in his hand. It's one of the ones the dragon made.* //...Uh. That ain't what ALL makin' food is, right?// SCProwl 10:03 pm She would rather be able to eat the food she's given. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:03 pm Oh! No, sorry, I didn't mean to imply that! NoodlesAtNight 10:03 pm *Laserbeak slooooooowly floats up into view. She dislikes Prowl, but...* {{...Bird found. You Prowl got box?}} Chaoit 10:03 pm Think she'd have liked it more if it didn't have a bullet in it SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:03 pm We have high metabolisms. There's a lot of food involved in everything. _Whirl 10:03 pm *nudges Rumble* Uh oh. I got competition, I see. NoodlesAtNight 10:04 pm //NO YA DON'T.// verdigrisprowl 10:04 pm Not currently, but I've been there a few times. Just wanted to ensure you were aware of the location. NoodlesAtNight 10:04 pm *Rumble looks horrified.* _Whirl 10:04 pm I dunno. The dragon can BAKE. Can I bake? Nope. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:04 pm *makes a deflating noise and hides her face in her paws. Whirl, nooooooooooo. she's not interested in Rumble like that!* NoodlesAtNight 10:04 pm \\WHAT'S WRONG WITH A BULLET IN IT? POPS IN THE MOUTH.\\ Chaoit 10:05 pm What... NoodlesAtNight 10:05 pm \\KIDDIN', BLASTER.\\ _Whirl 10:05 pm Maybe I could learn. *taps the underside of his helm thoughtfully* I can';t taste test my own dishes, though. NoodlesAtNight 10:05 pm //Listen. LISTEN. I ain't down for fraggin' no organics. That's-- uh.// *Almost.* //It ain't for me.// NoodlesAtNight 10:06 pm //...You need a taster, though, I got that down. Bird too, probably.// Chaoit 10:06 pm ....okay... _Whirl 10:06 pm *snickers and nudges him again* You... know I'm joking, right? NoodlesAtNight 10:06 pm {{Is good location. Best place aaaaall Cybertron. What for you go?}} SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:06 pm *the dragon has scrunched herself up into a Fur Orb and is hiding herself from Whirl's scrutiny* Chaoit 10:06 pm I kinda wanted to know how you knew if they did or didn't _Whirl 10:06 pm ...but if I ever do decide to try my claw at the culinary arts, I'll be sure to call you and Laserbeak up. *nods to Bird. You can count on it* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:06 pm ((Ed this is why you called yourself the Riddler)) ((also, he's so CUTE)) ((endearing boy)) _Whirl 10:07 pm ((me2 Ed)) NoodlesAtNight 10:07 pm [[At least he didn't sniff that human.]] Chaoit 10:07 pm ((concentrate boy! verdigrisprowl 10:07 pm The Constructicons like them, I get boxes for them. _Whirl 10:07 pm ...someone has kidnapped the dragon and left a tribble where she was. Huh. NoodlesAtNight 10:07 pm [[WHAT? WH-- oh. Oh.]] *Has jolted up. Slowly sits back.* _Whirl 10:08 pm ...you good, Soundwave? Mr M. NoodlesAtNight 10:08 pm [[Tribbles.]] Agooddistraction858 10:08 pm Mr. M SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:08 pm *the dragon makes another sad, deflating noise and slowly slides off the couch back* _Whirl 10:08 pm Oh no. Second casualty of the night. verdigrisprowl 10:08 pm *the constructicons don't like them quite as much as prowl thinks, but they're touched that prowl treats them anyway.* Agooddistraction858 10:08 pm Oh boy Thiss guy's NoodlesAtNight 10:09 pm {{...You bring Bird box.}} Agooddistraction858 10:09 pm He's freaky verdigrisprowl 10:09 pm Sure. By the apartment? _Whirl 10:09 pm *sits up a bit and peers in the general direction of the dragon* Now we got two ghosts to call up on the seance--DAMN. Agooddistraction858 10:09 pm Whoa whoa whoa _Whirl 10:10 pm Huh. NoodlesAtNight 10:10 pm {{Yes, yes. Apartment best. ... You not poisoning, eh? Not do Penguin trick?}} Chaoit 10:10 pm What...the... NoodlesAtNight 10:10 pm \\DUNNO WHAT THAT WAS, BUT I WANT TEN.\\ \\...TWENTY.\\ _Whirl 10:10 pm I know, right? *extends a claw for a fist-bump for Frenzy* NoodlesAtNight 10:11 pm [[Ah. Rest in peace, Penguin.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:11 pm ((WHAT)) verdigrisprowl 10:11 pm What? No. Why would I do that? NoodlesAtNight 10:11 pm [[Your run was short but beautiful.]] SCProwl 10:11 pm Electromagnetic pulse. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:11 pm ((penguin, you dead man)) Chaoit 10:11 pm Well. He's dead. Again. _Whirl 10:12 pm Rest in pieces. NoodlesAtNight 10:12 pm *Her visor narrows.* {{Bird not knowing why. That why Bird asking.}} Agooddistraction858 10:12 pm Rest in pie NoodlesAtNight 10:12 pm *To get her bumped off and have Soundwave all to himself, perhaps.* //Ugh. She got THEM kinda mec-- humans, for creators.// NoodlesAtNight 10:13 pm \\THEY AIN'T EVEN TOLD THEIR BUTLER 'BOUT HER.\\ *Scoff.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:13 pm ((guh. I had friends with parents like that.)) _Whirl 10:13 pm Like those mecha that lived up in the Towers. verdigrisprowl 10:13 pm ... Well, no. I'm not going to poison it. Or do any other Penguin tricks. NoodlesAtNight 10:14 pm {{Hmm. Good.}} *Pause.* {{...TWO box?}} [[Laserbeak. Do not push your luck.]] *She blats and dips behind the bar.* Chaoit 10:14 pm ...uh-oh NoodlesAtNight 10:14 pm \\PFFFF.\\ //Not them kind, dumbaft.// SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:15 pm *pokes her snout out of the Fur Orb. she does want to see what happens next.* _Whirl 10:15 pm *snickers* NoodlesAtNight 10:15 pm [[Are you all right there, dragon?]] _Whirl 10:15 pm ...! The dragon lives! SCProwl 10:15 pm He's a terrible liar. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:15 pm I haven't decided yet. Whether I'm alive, I mean. I'll be fine. _Whirl 10:16 pm That last one a bit too much for you? verdigrisprowl 10:16 pm ... Large box. Chaoit 10:17 pm ....oh...no... NoodlesAtNight 10:17 pm *Slooooow rise back up. Like a whale spyhopping.* {{...It deal.}} *But she still doesn't like you. This is just opportunity knocking and her answering.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:18 pm Ah... Not the show. The show is fine. It's... complicated. *the teasing has killed her, Whirl* verdigrisprowl 10:18 pm *doesn't see where a deal comes in. he's not getting anything back out of this. but okay.* NoodlesAtNight 10:18 pm *It's a deal to HER, and that's the important part.* SCProwl 10:18 pm ((my favorite fairy godmurderer <3 _Whirl 10:18 pm Uh-huh. I see. ... *draws self up* Full disclaimer, dragon: I know you're not actually trying to woo my beau out from under me. Chaoit 10:19 pm Oh.... SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:19 pm ... *unorbs a lil more* Okay. Thank you. ((ED! ED! ED!)) NoodlesAtNight 10:19 pm [[Bit of a stretch, that one.]] Agooddistraction858 10:20 pm What?? SCProwl 10:20 pm ((ugh ed _Whirl 10:20 pm Yeah, that's maximum stretch there. No prob. Chaoit 10:20 pm ..... SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:20 pm He's doomed. _Whirl 10:20 pm And I mean, even if you were... *nods to Rumble* You got good taste. verdigrisprowl 10:20 pm Prediction: Zsazsa is going to kill her so that his boss won't have a reason to leave. Chaoit 10:20 pm Also not out of earshot SCProwl 10:21 pm ((zsazsa NoodlesAtNight 10:21 pm \\Primus.\\ *Facepalming. Please don't advertise him as a good romantic partner to organics. Frenzy's gonna run with that.* [[Farewell, Penguin's mother.]] _Whirl 10:21 pm *well he meant a good one in general but, You're Probably Doomed* verdigrisprowl 10:21 pm Well. She WAS having heart trouble. NoodlesAtNight 10:21 pm \\Y'THINK HE'D FRAG OFF THE BOSS LIKE THAT? KILLIN' LIZA?\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:21 pm *huffs a laugh* I will take your word for that, Whirl. _Whirl 10:21 pm ..*snickers* Chaoit 10:21 pm That's not good SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:22 pm ((RIP Penguinmom)) verdigrisprowl 10:22 pm I think it's a possibility. He doesn't seem terribly bright. _Whirl 10:22 pm Zsa Zsa. *slides into his Zsa Zsa Gabor impression again* Yes, I believe you have the right of it, dahhling. NoodlesAtNight 10:22 pm *Soundwave huffs softly.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:22 pm Some become underlings because they love the work they do. _Whirl 10:22 pm Though goodness only knows har far his plans will get with this fellow meddling in them. Chaoit 10:22 pm Yikes SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:22 pm In this case... killing. verdigrisprowl 10:22 pm *honestly thinks the guy's name is Zsazsa and thus has no idea what Whirl is doing.* NoodlesAtNight 10:23 pm *Frenzy sighs.* \\WISH I COULDA GOT ME A JOB LIKE THAT INSTEAD OF BUILDIN' STUFF.\\ verdigrisprowl 10:23 pm Heh. Galoshes. NoodlesAtNight 10:23 pm \\LOT MORE FUN THAN RIVETIN' WALLS.\\ _Whirl 10:23 pm Like what? Electrocuting things? NoodlesAtNight 10:23 pm \\NAH, NAH, THE ZSAZSA FLESHIE.\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:24 pm Because you're a horrible creepy human that talks like blood clotted to your fur. That's a good reason. _Whirl 10:24 pm Oh, yeah. A hired heavy? I mean, I see the appeal. NoodlesAtNight 10:24 pm [[That is a fantastic description, dragon.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:24 pm Thank you. Chaoit 10:24 pm -back into his seat now- He's crazy SCProwl 10:24 pm *laughs* _Whirl 10:24 pm *LAUGHS* Agooddistraction858 10:24 pm HAhahaha Get fragged SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:24 pm HAH. Clever. NoodlesAtNight 10:24 pm *Rumble just about collapses laughing.* verdigrisprowl 10:24 pm *chuckles* NoodlesAtNight 10:25 pm *What kind of dumb fragger doesn't even cover their weaponry!?* _Whirl 10:25 pm That was pretty damn cool. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:25 pm Teeth! Teeth! Teeth! _Whirl 10:25 pm You know? I like this Gordon guy. verdigrisprowl 10:25 pm Maybe you shouldn't say that to your superior. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:25 pm He's going to consume his superior. NoodlesAtNight 10:25 pm ((bless you bullock)) SCProwl 10:25 pm I don't, but that was clever with the water. _Whirl 10:25 pm *laughs again* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:25 pm HAHAHA. _Whirl 10:25 pm This guy! This is my guy! Agooddistraction858 10:26 pm Yeahhh! We like him verdigrisprowl 10:26 pm Bollocks has a point. NoodlesAtNight 10:26 pm ((HAAAAAHAHAHA)) _Whirl 10:26 pm *LAUGHS AGAIN* Chaoit 10:26 pm He's fun verdigrisprowl 10:26 pm *clearly, whirl is laughing in agreement.* SCProwl 10:26 pm I think it's Bullock, actually. verdigrisprowl 10:26 pm That's not a word. _Whirl 10:26 pm But, y'know... yeah. This is pretty fun. NoodlesAtNight 10:27 pm [[The slovenly one is far sharper than he would've given credit for at the start.]] _Whirl 10:27 pm Nah, Prowl, it's not a word--it's a name. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:27 pm I feel you do not survive this city if you are not smart. NoodlesAtNight 10:27 pm \\HA. Now ya can't rib me 'bout that Fuzz movie, cuz you like them two cops.\\ *Lightly bops Whirl.* _Whirl 10:27 pm Well, damn, you got me. Chaoit 10:27 pm Oh...oh no.... _Whirl 10:27 pm ...but to be fair. That was a really fun movie. verdigrisprowl 10:28 pm It was an excellent movie. NoodlesAtNight 10:28 pm //Pit yeah it was.// *Ignore the messed up lines from earlier. Ahem.* Chaoit 10:28 pm This isn't going to end well For someone SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:29 pm She's not injured, like Fish said. He knows. _Whirl 10:29 pm If you guys ever wanna watch it again, count me in, by the way. I could always do with a good old-fashioned action movie. NoodlesAtNight 10:30 pm \\C'MON, FLESHIE. THAT WAS YOUR CHANCE TO TELL HIM YOU WAS MORE LOYAL TO HIM THAN FISH.\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:30 pm Is she? NoodlesAtNight 10:30 pm \\IT DON'T MATTER IF SHE IS. SHE COULDA TRIED IT.\\ SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:31 pm She could have. Would it have helped? Agooddistraction858 10:31 pm Oh frag _Whirl 10:31 pm Well damn. Looks like ZsaZsa never got his chance. Chaoit 10:31 pm Oh.... verdigrisprowl 10:31 pm Apparently not. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:32 pm He's going to eat her guts while she still lives. verdigrisprowl 10:32 pm Hm. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:32 pm HAH. _Whirl 10:32 pm ... *pauses, gathers his thoughts. Okay, let's see... what does he need to cover here. By now he's very used to How Prowl Is...* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:32 pm Every little bird has his day. verdigrisprowl 10:33 pm ((... PENGUINS EAT FISH)) ((I JUST REALIZED)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:33 pm ((yes. yes they do.)) Chaoit 10:33 pm ((-pats- SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:33 pm ((puff you're perfect)) NoodlesAtNight 10:33 pm (( *chinhands* )) verdigrisprowl 10:33 pm ((he was gonna eat her alive all along)) _Whirl 10:34 pm @P: Okay, so, at first I thought you were joking but, lemme run the full disclosure by you: That guy's name isn't actually ZsaZsa. But it's hilarious when you call him that. So folks are probably thinking your making a joke.

...and "bollocks" is slang for "aft." Which is another joke folks probably thought you were making.

Roll with it if you wanna, mech. But I figured... y'know. You might wanna know. NoodlesAtNight 10:34 pm ((look at that smile)) _Whirl 10:34 pm ((CRIES)) ((WHEN SHE WRINKLES HER NOSE BOY I DIE)) ((me2 gordon)) Chaoit 10:34 pm ....? SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:34 pm ((I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW)) ((she cuuuuute)) ...Cop-blocked. *laughs at her own joke* _Whirl 10:35 pm *LAUGHS* Chaoit 10:35 pm Huh? NoodlesAtNight 10:35 pm \\PFFFF.\\ SCProwl 10:35 pm What? SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:35 pm I'm /hilarious/. _Whirl 10:35 pm You are, dragon. verdigrisprowl 10:36 pm @W «... I know what Bollocks means. It's—for the record, it's not actually the aft.» *he thought that was just the officer's name. there was somebody named Dick a couple of episodes ago.* Chaoit 10:36 pm ...I don't get it Agooddistraction858 10:36 pm Rright fraggers _Whirl 10:36 pm ...you know. You've brought me special things to drink before. *sly look; it's teasing time again* Made sure I could actually taste it. Hmm. Makes a mech wonder... Agooddistraction858 10:36 pm time to cheese verdigrisprowl 10:36 pm @W «..................... What's Zsazsa's name?» _Whirl 10:36 pm Hell yeah, Soundwave! *points at him* You know what's up. NoodlesAtNight 10:37 pm *He nods. He knows good music when he hears it.* SCProwl 10:37 pm Neither did I, Blaster. Agooddistraction858 10:37 pm Alright Night, everyone _Whirl 10:38 pm @P: Gotcha. ...should've figured, I mean, you spent more time with humans than I did.

But it's Zsasz. Just think: palindrome. But honestly I like ZsaZsa. Because it means I get to do my impressions. Seeya, Wheeljack. Agooddistraction858 10:38 pm Don't cheese too hard NoodlesAtNight 10:38 pm [[Get home safely, Wheeljack. Find a place in New Praxus if you do not feel you can travel.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:38 pm *the dragon orbs up again* Whiiiiiiiirl... Chaoit 10:38 pm The jokes going over your helm too, Prowl? Agooddistraction858 10:38 pm Aww, don't worry about me, Mom I got it, I got ways _Whirl 10:39 pm *snickers* I'm just messing with you, dragon. *dryly* I figure you'e got better taste. Agooddistraction858 10:39 pm I got the cheeese NoodlesAtNight 10:39 pm \\SEEN LOTSA HUMAN STUFF, I KNOW THE JOKE. IT'S LIKE SAYIN' SPIKE-BLOCKED OR CABLE-BLOCKED OR SOMETHIN'. LIKE SOMEONE MESSES UP YER FRAGGIN' ATTEMPT.\\ _Whirl 10:39 pm Since we're doing music from the show, wanna hit us with a little The Five Satins, Soundwave? Agooddistraction858 10:39 pm Peace _Whirl 10:39 pm In the Still of the Night is what they had on the show. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:39 pm *un-orbs swiftly* No putting yourself down, Whirl. You're a great friend, and I enjoy cooking for you. Chaoit 10:39 pm ..........oh SCProwl 10:40 pm Oh, it was a sex joke. _Whirl 10:40 pm *waves a claw* Habit. And hey, if you can think of a concoction that I can actually TASTE, you'll get no arguments from me. SCProwl 10:40 pm *huffs in amusement, ok, now it's kinda funny* Chaoit 10:40 pm So that's what he was trying to do verdigrisprowl 10:41 pm @W «Ah. Yes. Got it.» *palindrome. That's an easy way to remember it.* «... Thank you.» _Whirl 10:41 pm Honestly, this song is worth it for the harmony of the alone. NoodlesAtNight 10:41 pm *Spots a group called The Penguins. Must do them next.* _Whirl 10:41 pm *in lieu of responding by comm, he looks over to prowl and flips him a lazy salute* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:42 pm *the dragon stretches* I should head off, myself. Thank you for having me over, Soundwave. Good night, everyone. _Whirl 10:42 pm Seeya! NoodlesAtNight 10:42 pm [[Goodnight, dragon.]] ((oh yeah! uhhh time marker probably 10:55)) Chaoit 10:43 pm ((g'night dragon! verdigrisprowl 10:43 pm *a subtle nod back. and he really means the thanks. there's a short list of people who 1) notice that he's getting names wrong, 2) realize he's not doing it on purpose or out of apathy, 3) correct him on it, AND 4) do it privately, /AND/ 5) help him find ways to make remembering the real name easier, 6) without him having to ask for help first. it's the kind of thing that people like Skids or Jazz would do for him.* _Whirl 10:45 pm *Whirl honestly doesn't recognize the significance of his own gesture, being poorly-versed in things like common decency, but now that he knows Prowl is genuinely missing things rather than being purposefully oblique... well. Might as well. That way he can be purposefully oblique next time for maximum comedic effect. Or not. ...but hopefully. Because he is unintentionally hilarious sometimes* You're on a roll, Soundwave. What about Ben E. King? Got some Ben E. King and the Drifters in you? NoodlesAtNight 10:47 pm [[Naturally.]] _Whirl 10:48 pm Nice. NoodlesAtNight 10:48 pm [[You constantly surprise him with the things you enjoy.]] *Settles back on the couch.* [[It pleases him.]] _Whirl 10:49 pm *drapes a claw over his cockpit* I just have exceptionally good taste. So, buckle in and get used to it. SCProwl 10:49 pm *ends the visual feed with a ping of gratitude* NoodlesAtNight 10:49 pm [[Of course, if either Prowl has a request, he would be content to offer them as well.]] *Pings back. Like y'do.* [[He already knew that.]] *Gestures to Rumble.* verdigrisprowl 10:49 pm I'm submitting "In The Midnight Hour." NoodlesAtNight 10:50 pm //Boss! Primus.// SCProwl 10:50 pm *had all the video feeds tonight* _Whirl 10:50 pm *snickers. Hey, he'll take it!* SCProwl 10:50 pm Are we keeping to a specific genre? verdigrisprowl 10:50 pm *doesn't know, but was trying to himself.* _Whirl 10:51 pm Not bad, Prowl. Excellent brass in it--see? NoodlesAtNight 10:51 pm *Soundwave sends Prowl a single thing: an emoji with a raised eyebrow.* *Slyly, like some sort of sly thing.* verdigrisprowl 10:52 pm *hold on, give prowl a second, he's not good at emojis, he's got to go look one up.* *ah! there.* *sends a wink* NoodlesAtNight 10:52 pm */He knew it./* \\...AIN'T BRASS LIKE A COP THING? BULLOCK SAID IT BEFORE.\\ verdigrisprowl 10:53 pm I like the drums too. They're very steady. _Whirl 10:53 pm Yep. NoodlesAtNight 10:54 pm [[He does not expect a specific genre, Prowl. You may change it if you wish.]] _Whirl 10:54 pm *tilts his head to look at the other Prowl. He was preparing to leave, but he's genuinely interested in what she might recommend* NoodlesAtNight 10:55 pm ((tbh i was gonna go with lollipop but i figured i hadn't heard this in a while and sw has such a sense of humor about it anyway)) _Whirl 10:56 pm ((can't go wrong with this one tbh *hand over heart*)) SCProwl 10:56 pm *love songs is the theme here, hm* verdigrisprowl 10:56 pm *considering that they ARE a couple of fools that rushed in, Prowl is fairly certain this song is targeted at him* *sends the winky face again* @S «No. Wait, don't look at that, wrong emoji.» *sends the raised eyebrow that Soundwave sent him.* Chaoit 10:57 pm ....... NoodlesAtNight 10:57 pm *The tiniest huff at the incorrect choice and hurried message. Prowl is oddly charming at times.* *It's his turn to send the wink.* \\YEAAAAAH, I'M GONNA GO UPSTAIRS BEFORE THE MUSH MUSIC KILLS ME.\\ verdigrisprowl 10:58 pm *they both have asymmetrical optics, okay* _Whirl 10:58 pm Seeya, Frenzy. *salutes* SCProwl 10:58 pm Hm, On My Own, Soundwave. Play that. _Whirl 10:58 pm ((that 1st comment killed me, I'm dead, goodbye curkle world)) SCProwl 10:58 pm *it's a love song... kinda* NoodlesAtNight 10:59 pm ((what what comment)) _Whirl 10:59 pm ((the one on this song)) Chaoit 10:59 pm ((scroll down a bit _Whirl 10:59 pm ((the guy talks about dancing with his late wife)) Chaoit 10:59 pm ((it's hilarious _Whirl 11:00 pm (( SOBS)) NoodlesAtNight 11:00 pm ((awwwwwwww ;;)) SCProwl 11:00 pm ((;v; verdigrisprowl 11:00 pm ((soundwave and captain over here playing love songs at each other and commissioner like "i'd like to dedicate this to jazz who is a JERK and DIED" *scowls @ him from the other side of the threshold between life and death*)) SCProwl 11:00 pm ((lol NoodlesAtNight 11:00 pm [[On My Own? Really? He would have thought you would go with All By Myself.]] [[But, as you wish.]] SCProwl 11:00 pm Very funny. NoodlesAtNight 11:01 pm *Watching VERY CLOSELY for reactions to this voice. He's dead certain there's something to this attachment.* ((can soundwave scowl at jazz for dying too? different reasons though. he didn't get to kill jazz first)) verdigrisprowl 11:02 pm (( [[don't take this the wrong way, i'd be scowling harder if you were alive]] )) NoodlesAtNight 11:02 pm ((LOL)) _Whirl 11:02 pm *tilts his head; this one is new* SCProwl 11:02 pm *winces slightly at the choice of versions, but she'll take it* NoodlesAtNight 11:03 pm *Soundwave taps his fingers against his leg.* [[...He thought of adding this musical to his list soon.]] *Hmmm. That wince.* *He knows she likes this singer, so...* _Whirl 11:03 pm Don't recognize it, myself. SCProwl 11:03 pm *ha, likes* NoodlesAtNight 11:03 pm [[He has heard it was to do with an important human revolution.]] [[It seemed like subject matter he would enjoy.]] SCProwl 11:04 pm Quite. _Whirl 11:05 pm Huh. Well, I'd give it a shot. Not too bad, Other Prowl. SCProwl 11:05 pm *quietly* Thank you. NoodlesAtNight 11:05 pm [[............Hmm.]] [[Do you know, he has heard nearly everyone in here sing before. He would be most interested in capturing your voice, Commissioner Prowl.]] verdigrisprowl 11:06 pm *Soundwave hasn't heard HIM sing* _Whirl 11:06 pm *he knows for a fact you done got him, he's powerless to resist Man In Motion* NoodlesAtNight 11:07 pm *He said nearly. And he would rather keep THAT thing he suspects to be a precious occasion to himself.* Chaoit 11:07 pm -who hasn't he heard sing?- SCProwl 11:07 pm *that may have been too personal a choice but it's the first one--Prowl jerks upright and cants her helm in amusement* You just did. _Whirl 11:07 pm *streetches* But I think I'll give you all the break you deserve from me. G'night, losers. You lot know where to reach me, if you need me.

*spares a nudge for Rumble* And g'night to you, too. *you've been upgraded out of the "losers" category* Chaoit 11:07 pm G'night, Whirl verdigrisprowl 11:07 pm *blinks. looks at alternate. looks at screen. looks at alternate.* ... That's your holomatter? NoodlesAtNight 11:07 pm *His visor brightens. He catches that.* //Yeah! Yeah, you too. See ya soon.// *Grin and wriggle out of the way so Whirl can get up without knocking into him.* SCProwl 11:08 pm No, but the voice is near enough to be... disturbing the first time I heard it. verdigrisprowl 11:08 pm Oh. Doesn't count. NoodlesAtNight 11:08 pm ((the only ones he hasn't heard are blaster and both prowls, all his minis and whirl he has)) _Whirl 11:08 pm *bobs his head one last time, extricates himself, and trots off for the exit* SCProwl 11:09 pm No, I suppose not. NoodlesAtNight 11:09 pm [[So he was right, then.]] _Whirl 11:09 pm ((I would say "more than he probably wants or needs to from whirl" but whirl actually isn't too bad so as long as you can handle Unbridled Enthusiasm for John Parr... not a terrible experience)) SCProwl 11:10 pm Why do you collect recordings of people singing, Soundwave? verdigrisprowl 11:11 pm *already essentially knows the answer; is curious what answer he gives other people* NoodlesAtNight 11:12 pm [[Because for millions of years, they /didn't./ And before the Pit - before /prison/ - that is what he knew. It is what his home was like. Voices raised in song.]] NoodlesAtNight 11:13 pm [[Some collect crystals. Others collect old recordings. He has what he likes.]] SCProwl 11:14 pm *levels her visor in his direction, as close to almost eye contact as either of them can get for a long moment before nodding. pushes herself up out of her seat* I'll think about it. Good night, Soundwave. Captain.

...Blaster. Chaoit 11:14 pm Good night, Prowl verdigrisprowl 11:15 pm Evening, commissioner. Chaoit 11:15 pm ....I should be going as well. NoodlesAtNight 11:15 pm *Sits up. Wait. Wait, really? ... Of course thinking about it doesn't mean doing it, necessarily, but a thought is more than nothing.* [[.........Good night.]] [[And to you, Blaster.]] SCProwl 11:15 pm *leaves* Chaoit 11:15 pm Good night SCProwl 11:15 pm ((and now i slep <3 Chaoit 11:15 pm ((thanks for the stream! NoodlesAtNight 11:15 pm ((yw!)) *Waits until they are gone to turn to his Prowl.* verdigrisprowl 11:17 pm *leans on* NoodlesAtNight 11:18 pm [[He /would/ like to hear you some time as well - but not to see if you secretly sound the same as that human.]] *Leans into.* [[Simply to hear you, and add you.]] [[But you are not obligated.]] verdigrisprowl 11:18 pm I'll spoil the surprise now: I definitely don't sound like that human. NoodlesAtNight 11:19 pm *Huffs against Prowl's shoulder.* verdigrisprowl 11:19 pm *the corner of his mouth twitches.* verdigrisprowl 11:22 pm *for a brief moment, he wonders when the honeymoon period ends. it's different with every partner. all he knows for now is that Soundwave merely making his voiceless little laugh against Prowl's shoulder is enough to fill his chassis with bubbles and his fingertips with lightning, and it's strange and exhilarating and he never knows what to do with himself when he's like this except try to continue making clever quips.* *but for now he'll just lean a little harder.* NoodlesAtNight 11:25 pm *Soundwave, on the other hand, tries not to worry about those kinds of things. He likes this honeymoon period. He's never really had much of one before. The idea that maybe some day it will end and Prowl will look at him with a different kind of fondness is fine. The idea that maybe some day it will end and Prowl will not have /any/ fondness for him scares him. So he tries to focus on what's now, and ignore the later.* *The now is Prowl leaning into him, so the now will also be him leaning back and wrapping a feeler around Prowl's front.* [[Thirty-four minutes before the midnight hour, as he has calculated it. What do you intend to do until then?]] verdigrisprowl 11:28 pm *then he'll wrap an arm around Soundwave's.* Well. I suppose I'm already getting a head start on taking you and holding you, aren't I. NoodlesAtNight 11:29 pm [[So you are. But then, tardiness does not appear to be one of your weaknesses.]] verdigrisprowl 11:30 pm I do pride myself on my punctuality. I've even been known to get a head start on the next day's tasks. NoodlesAtNight 11:33 pm [[A fine work ethic.]] *Squeeze. He's being serious about that, actually. One workaholic to another.* [[But... this once, he thinks he could forgive you if you were simply punctual and not early.]] *In other words, he wouldn't mind having these twenty minutes before whatever Prowl clearly has in mind just sort of soaking in the peace and quiet and affection.* [[Though you'll have to work all the harder once you do get started.]] *Another huff.* verdigrisprowl 11:36 pm *... it takes him a moment to work out whether Soundwave didn't understand that Prowl wasn't actually talking about getting back to work. was his innuendo too subtle.* *the final comment seals it. okay. that was definitely sexual. soundwave's suggesting that they... cuddle, probably.* verdigrisprowl 11:38 pm *leans in to nuzzle his crest to Soundwave's.* I think I can pencil a break into my schedule. NoodlesAtNight 11:41 pm *He doesn't get many chances to stay awake with Prowl afterward, and they don't have many chances for /anything/ like this outside of Mondays. The occasional slow moment with nothing else is good for them. Just remembering that Prowl's presence means so much to him that they could sit on opposite sides of the same room, each of them quietly doing paperwork, and he would feel almost as content as he does right now.* verdigrisprowl 11:42 pm *maybe they should find some non-classified paperwork to do together. have some work lunch dates.* NoodlesAtNight 11:44 pm *Soundwave would be tickled pink. Which would be awkward, but what's another paint color to match his docked-deployer jumble?* *He nuzzles back.* [[Good. Thank you.]] *And then, a bit more seriously:* [[...For more than he is capable of wording, in fact.]] *Don't worry. The emotional exposure will stay there, and not get too much deeper. He's aware Prowl's not super comfortable with that sort of thing, and anyway, he really ISN'T good at it, communications expertise or not.* verdigrisprowl 11:46 pm Oh. ... Same. ...... Probably for different reasons. NoodlesAtNight 11:48 pm *Small nod, and another nuzzle. He won't make Prowl explain unless Prowl wants, and he doubts Prowl wants. Honestly, he didn't even expect the "Same".* verdigrisprowl 11:48 pm *they've probably both got about as deep as they're comfortable getting.* NoodlesAtNight 11:51 pm *Well. Maybe a tad deeper, but only briefly.* [[...We never did get to try those cuffs he brought you that night. Perhaps some time soon...]] verdigrisprowl 11:52 pm *PERKS* I'd like that. verdigrisprowl 11:53 pm ... Not tonight. We'd need to discuss boundaries and such. *handcuffs are a bit different thanpinning wrists down with hands is a bit different than chains are a bit different than giving orders to hold still, et cetera.* NoodlesAtNight 11:55 pm [[Of course. He hadn't meant this evening. That's - it will take more time than either of us have tonight, for such preparations.]] *Pause.* [[But it pleases him to know you are still interested in that.]] *Longer.* [[And so is he.]] verdigrisprowl 11:56 pm Of course I am. NoodlesAtNight 11:56 pm [[Splendid.]] *Light stretch.* [[Hm. There are five minutes left. We should be on our way if we wish to make our appointment.]] verdigrisprowl 11:57 pm A good idea. *gets to his feet* NoodlesAtNight 11:57 pm *Gets up himself and offers an arm. To link with for walking, not for support, obviously; Prowl's already up.* verdigrisprowl 11:58 pm *takes it* NoodlesAtNight 11:58 pm *And onward.*

[jonghyundroppedthesoap]

My Number One Fan

Chapter 29 Pairing: JongKey Word Count: 2,131 Summary: Kibum goes to the same, run-down bar every week to watch the man of his affections sing his heart out with a mere guitar for company. He wasn’t expecting the coffee, nor the beautiful personality within the singer. And he definitely wasn’t expecting to fall in love.

A/N: a short, but eventful chapter! a few warnings for homophobia and swearing, but other than that, hope you enjoy the drama!! <3

Everything was over. All of his hard work, his caution, and his ingenious lies. In the end, it was all for nothing, and Kibum couldn’t help but pray to the gods for forgiveness at what that implied. He could hear his heartbeat pounding loudly in his chest and the apprehension which soaked his every limb was making it difficult to breathe. He could feel the pure disgust and anger exuding off his father beside him, and couldn’t help but feel sympathy for his teacher and what she was about to endure.

It was silent. Almost too silent. The room was chilling and every tiny sound was decipherable within the enclosed space. Kibum tried desperately to breathe at an even pace, but it was futile. He was much too nervous to think rationally, on edge at the look which he knew his father was sending his way.

The man’s cold voice broke through the silence, striking Kibum with a bout of unadulterated and genuine fear directed at his own father.

“What do you mean Jonghyun doesn’t go to this school?” he gritted through bared teeth, large hands gripping the table so tightly that his fingers turned white.

Kibum’s teacher coughed awkwardly in embarrassment and hurriedly flicked through her files once more. “I’m sorry, sir…the only Jonghyuns we have at this school are first years. Maybe you’re just thinking of someone el—“

Her feeble attempt at reducing the tension came to an abrupt halt as Kibum’s father roughly stood up, his chair falling down behind him at the sheer force. “Then tell me, son,” he spat, glaring down at the boy with an almost sickening anger in his eyes. “If Jonghyun doesn’t go to your school, then who the fuck is that creep you’ve been spending so much time with? The one who’s been corrupting you?!”

Visibly shaking, Kibum could only shake his head, unable to find any words which could defend his current predicament. His mother too sat ghostly beside him, staring forward at nothing in particular with a mixture of guilt, fear and sympathy for her son.

“I-It’s Jonghyun,” Kibum stuttered feebly, “He just…He just doesn’t go to this school, is all.”

Kibum’s father growled in his throat, before promptly grabbing the neck of Kibum’s shirt and wrenching him to his feet. “First the fucking dancing and now this? I’ve just about had it with you, boy.” the man snarled menacingly, giving Kibum one last, repulsed look over before shoving him back into his chair and taking a seat.

Desperate to change the subject of conversation to anything except what they were talking about, Kibum’s mother started awkwardly. “Well…How about the project Kibum’s told us all about? The one with Amber?”

At her seemingly innocent words, Kibum’s blood ran cold, and judging by the expression upon his father’s face, he was equally aware of Kibum’s utter trepidation and was basking in it.

It was apparent that the teacher didn’t want to say anything more which would evoke an eruption from the man before her, however crumbled beneath their stern, expectant glares. Kibum’s family really were something else, and she briefly gave one of her favourite students a sympathetic smile before turning back to the monster beside him. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I haven’t assigned anything like that…perhaps one of Kibum’s other teachers—“

But her excuses were futile, for Kibum was already being strewn from his chair and onto the cold floor below. No resonating ‘slaps’ sounded throughout the room – instead, Kibum’s chair had merely been kicked over by his raging father, whose beet red face loomed over Kibum’s frail form.

“Pray tell me, Kibum, because I’m very curious...” the man began, taking another step forward. Kibum desperately scurried back onto his feet and took an instinctive step back.  “If you haven’t been with Amber for every godforsaken time of day, then what the fuck have you been doing? Oh wait, let me guess. You’ve been with that Jonghyun boy – if that’s even his name – committing all kinds of indecent acts that he forced you into.”

Kibum could handle a lot of the bullshit that his father tended to spurt out. But accusing Jonghyun of something so atrocious and disgusting? Clenching his fists so hard that he was certain there would be crescent marks imprinted into the skin, Kibum could no longer contain the rage and hatred for his father which had been gradually building up for far too long.

“Don’t you dare accuse him of something like that, you sick bastard.” Kibum scowled, ignoring the startled gasps of shock which sounded from the women. “Unlike you, some people in this world actually have a few shreds of decency and don’t take out their anger and issues on harmless kids. So don’t you fucking dare chide me for spending time with someone who actually cares about me and my wellbeing, and who would gladly go out of their way to make sure I was safe and happy. You’re the indecent creep, and sometimes I wish you would just die!”

The teacher and Kibum’s mother looked at each other with mutual expressions of distress, before nodding to each other in a silent expression of agreement. The two noiselessly lifted from their seats and made way towards the door, knowing that there was simply nothing else they could do but seek help. Kibum’s mother gave her son one last look over her shoulder as she left, eyes soundlessly screaming at him to ‘stay safe’.

Jonghyun strolled down the school’s hallways and through the waiting families casually, giving every class a quick peak through the window in an attempt to find where Kibum was. He, quite frankly, wasn’t really meant to be here, and had flushed in utter embarrassment the few times a teacher had seen him staring in at them shamelessly. But he had, after all, been invited by Kibum’s mother a few weeks ago, and Jonghyun figured that he looked enough like a student to not raise any suspicions.

Once he got to Kibum’s classroom, Jonghyun wasn’t quite positive of what he was going to do. Sure, he could wait outside and surprise Kibum on the family’s way out, or poke his head in and say hello. But Kibum’s father was still in the picture, and Jonghyun didn’t think that he could ever confront that man after what he had overheard from his position in Kibum’s wardrobe.

The singer continued to contemplate these strategies as he pressed his face against multiple more windows in search of Kibum, sighing in disappointment each time his eyes were met with unfamiliar strangers. But it seemed that Jonghyun didn’t have to search for long, because all of a sudden two women came hastily around the corner, one of whom Jonghyun immediately recognized as Kibum’s mother.

“Mrs Kim!” he exclaimed, smiling widely at his luck. “I’ve been looking for you guys.”

Kibum’s mother smiled fondly at the man which she had recently learned was the object of her son’s affection, but her grin was immediately replaced by a frown of worried desperation. “J-Jonghyun,” she stuttered. “It’s Kibum. He’s fighting with his father and things are getting bad and I just don’t know what that brute might do—“

But Jonghyun was already running down the hall towards the classroom which the women had come from, only one thought resonating throughout his head. If that harsh slap had been brought about by Kibum simply making a joke, then Jonghyun didn’t want to even think about what would happen to his boyfriend if the two males were actually arguing. He was vaguely aware of the two women which trailed behind him but paid them no mind, simply barging through the door of the classroom which he could decipher the loud shouts were sounding from.

“—not have these unnatural tendencies infecting my son. They started because of him, and we both know it!”

“Did you ever consider that maybe that’s just who I am?! No one caused this but me – I’m sick of you controlling my life, okay? Stay out of my goddamn business, because I swear to god if I hear one more threat or insult from your dirty, old mouth, I’ll put arsenic in your coffee and smile as you choke.”

The middle aged man stepped forward with a growl in his throat. “Is that a threat, boy? I’m fucking done with all your bullshit. I knew from the moment I saw you, you were a fag… I tried to put a stop to it, I really did. But you’re beyond help, boy – you’re sick. Constant lies from your filthy mouth, that makeup shit you’re always putting on your face, the dancing…If it doesn’t stop, boy, then you better get out of my goddamn house and never come back.”

Jonghyun, despite his utmost fear and guilt, ran forward and stepped between the two, gently pushing Kibum to the side. The younger boy’s expression immediately morphed into surprise, then relief, then worry, before finally settling on downright dread.

“P-Please sir,” Jonghyun stuttered. “I think that’s enough…You need to think rationally, Kibum’s your son!”

The room fell silent, before all of a sudden a burly fist came flying out of nowhere and smashed Jonghyun ruthlessly against the face. The sheer force of the blow knocked Jonghyun off his feet and back onto the rough floor below, ears ringing as his head rebounded painfully against it.

“Don’t interfere. This is between the boy and I, and the last thing we need is berating from the son of a bitch who got us into this mess to begin with.”

Upon impact with the ground, Kibum had ran immediately over to Jonghyun and knelt by his side, making sure that the older boy was alright. A trail of blood ran down his chin and his head pounded painfully, but other than that, Jonghyun was fine, eliciting Kibum to sigh in relief.

Kibum’s father watched the exchange with revulsion, adding coldly, “Besides – that fag is not my son.”

Those words stung Kibum more than he’d ever let on, but he merely glared up at the man with insurmountable hatred. “Glad the feelings are mutual,” he spat, grabbing Jonghyun’s hand and helping the older boy stand up.

“Don’t think you’ll be allowed back at my house.”

Kibum ignored his father and simply smiled sadly at his teacher who had witnessed the whole, horrifying ordeal. “I’m sorry about what happened, Miss. I’ll come talk to you at lunchtime tomorrow or on Friday.”

She smiled back. “See you, Kibum.”

Kibum began to walk out of the classroom, Jonghyun’s hand locked in his. He hovered beneath the door frame, and looked back one last time at his mother, searching for something that even he wasn’t quite sure of. But her gaze remained firmly locked on a poster situated above the teacher’s desk, not straying even as Kibum shut the door firmly behind him.

The pair walked solemnly down the hallway hand in hand, eventually reaching Kibum’s locker. Kibum unlocked it almost mechanically, grabbing out his homework for the night and shoving it into the bag he had brought along.

“Kibum?” spoke Jonghyun softly, afraid to break the silence.

“Mn?”

Tears stung Jonghyun’s eyes, and he began pitifully. “I’m so sorry, Kibum.” he choked out. “For everything. I didn’t know that things were so bad at home, but I should have paid more attention. I let you stay with that…that monster…and I did nothing.” The tears began to run down Jonghyun’s face as he spoke, mixing with blood as he tasted salt on his tongue. “When I heard him hit you from the wardrobe, all I could do was run home and cry – I didn’t even get out of bed until yesterday. I-I’ve been so pathetic, Kibum. I don’t deserve someone like you…I let you go through all that shit, and now all I can do is say sorry. I shou—“

“Jonghyun.”

The older boy looked up, startled.

“I love you.”

If possible, Jonghyun’s tears began to fall even harder, watching with wide eyes as Kibum hands lifted gently to wipe them away. He smiled radiantly, and to Jonghyun, it was the most beautiful site in the world.

“I’m not the one meant to be crying right now,” he laughed softly, face flushed from both his tears and embarrassment.

Kibum leant forward and pressed his lips soundly against Jonghyun’s. “I love you.” he repeated, staring into Jonghyun’s eyes with nothing but pure admiration.

Jonghyun grinned, kissing Kibum back delicately as his arms wrapped around the younger’s waist.  “I love you too.” he whispered into the embrace, and for just a moment, the two boys forgot about everything which had occurred and allowed themselves to submerge into a world where they were the only two that mattered.

[chinashopbully]

‘I Like Birds’ ch. 12 PREVIEW

(~2500 words) In which Bruce is exasperated, Tony is exasperating, and the author doesn't know shit about restraining himself from adding in a brief bonus!POV halfway through the story.

(also there's a donation request stuck in there at the bottom. don't want that to catch anyone off guard.)

He’s run out of things to try.

Bruce was already on the edge of doing something that’d instantly raise the Homeland Security alert levels. Roping the other Avengers in to help was supposed to increase his options, and thereby decrease his frustration, and thereby serve the overall purpose of world peace.

But of course, since Steve got pulled away on some international something-or-other, and Natasha already came and went with what seemed like maybe twenty minutes in between, only one Avenger has been around lately.

And of course, it had to be Tony.

“Have a little faith in the kid,” says Tony.

“Says the guy who tried to hold him against his will ‘for his own good’?”

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I.”

“I’ll forgive you when he does.”

“Gonna be tough to know when that is if he’s already drunk the Kool-Aid.” Tony pauses, scratches the hair at the nape of his neck. Bruce can’t tell if Tony’s overall greasiness is from handling machine parts or not showering. Both, probably. “Okay so that,” says Tony, “that came out wrong.”

“Damn well better have,” Bruce mutters, stalking away to the other side of the lab where there’s Less Tony.

Tony’s voice covers the distance a little too well. “All I mean is that if he really is chanting Oms and preparing his body for the mothership or whatever then nothing — nothing — we do or say is gonna bring him back down to earth. We try to reach out, it’ll just drive him away. Probably even prove some point about us outsiders being ignorant or hostile…”

“Not that I disagree,” says Bruce, not as under-the-breath as he intended, “but where was this understanding when you were having your AI lock down the building?”

“And anyway I don’t see how it’s our business either way.”

“How do you not give yourself whiplash?”

“Also,” Tony says, “he has powers. It not like he’s helpless.”

Bruce stares. “…I don’t want to sound like a broken record but—“

“So it takes me a while!”

The response sticks in Bruce’s throat. Fact: Tony Stark sucks at people. Sometimes willfully, often not. Occasionally it’s hard to tell which is which.

Bruce shuts his mouth.

Tony drops the torque wrench and reaches into the bag of blueberries dangling from DUM-E’s claw (probably on JARVIS’ orders). “Are we sure he’s not, y’know. Undercover or something?”

“If he were onto something — if this were work-related he’d tell us.”

“That’d be kind of a first.”

“He’d tell me.”

“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

“He promised,” says Bruce.

“Well did he pinkie promise?” Tony leans back, and dear lord, when was the last time that face saw a razor? “Because that’s the heart and soul of contractual obligation.”

Bruce blinks at Tony’s pointedly guileless face before deciding that it’s not even worth the effort of counting to ten. He forces a smile. “It wouldn’t kill you to be slightly less of a jackass about everything.”

“That’s never been proven.”

He’s going through a rough time, Bruce thinks. He’s going through a rough time. He’s going through… “If not us,” says Bruce, “you know he’d at least tell Deadpool.”

Something metal gets thrown across the floor when Bruce isn’t looking; he jumps, presses a palm to his chest, sucks down the panic and swallows it away only through the aid of relentless practice. He stares at Tony in unbridled horror. He’s going through a very, very rough time, if he’s pulling stunts like that.

Tony gestures violently with one hand. “One, okay, I do not know that, and neither do you. We don’t even know when or, more to the point, why the kid left his place, but I will bet you an entire goddamn casino that Wilson did something shitty to drive him off. Guy’s the human personification of a fault line. Turns on a dime. Razes entire sections of the world at random. Doesn’t know pizza from roadkill and I’ve seen him go nuclear because he didn’t like the color scheme of one of the new-generation iPhone releases.”

“Meanwhile,” says Bruce, because he’s kind of in a mood now, “your response to being kidnapped was to spend the next few years building a personal army of weaponized armor and publicly claim ownership of world peace while daring known terrorists to come hurt your very few loved ones.”

For a moment Tony turns to ice, unmoving and brittle. Only for a moment. Then: “I am a model of mental health,” he says, breezing on. “Two, in the unlikely event everything is still sunshine and roses between spider-boy and Ol’ Hair Trigger, why in the name of sodium pentathol would Wilson tell us anything? I feel like his weird daddy-issues hero-worship thing he had for Cap kinda went belly-up. Because, again, turns on a dime.”

Bruce presses his thumb against a sudden sore spot on his forehead. “I can’t believe I’m about to defend Deadpool of all people, but it’s not like that was an unprovok—“

“Sure I mean, he might show up playing the I’ve Got A Secret game to try and squeeze a buck out of the deal, but he hasn’t, which most likely means he doesn’t know anything. But if you wanna track him down and interrogate him anyway, do me a solid and gimme a heads-up first because I’ve been meaning to test the new Hulkbuster armor.”

“Tony—“

“Three, and goddammit Brucie I hate to say this, I really do, but it gots to be said — maybe Spidey Krishna has been a long time coming and has nothing to do with anything. Not us, not nobody, not no how.”

“At the same time he’s been trying to track down the source of serial suicide bombers? Come on, Tony.”

“Coincidence. Fact is he’s no more emotionally stable than the rest of us at the best of times and god knows we’ve all flown off our own deep ends before. Typically, dare I say it, at the most inconvenient moment? Joining a cult is, like, the tamest of all possible outcomes, let’s be real.”

Bruce feels a dangerous burbling in his chest. Shuts his eyes for just as long as it takes to breathe in once, all the way, through the nose. Two fingers against his inner wrist. Pulse slows. “Claiming coincidence without investigation is just plain lazy,” says Bruce, with his eyes open.

Tony’s expression sours. “You’re paraphrasing. Badly.”

“Every effect has a cause. You either care enough to find out what that cause is, or you don’t.”

Tony narrows his eyes and hums in thought. “Wasn’t there something, somewhere, at some point, in some abrahamic religion, about the devil spinning scripture to his advantage?”

“Tony, I know you have a god complex, but comparing one of your pre-bandwagon rants to actual religious texts—“

“Pushing it?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Well, we were talking about cults, so. My mind was just in the gutter already, I guess.”

Bruce maintains a careful stoneface.

“Hm.” Tony flicks a blueberry in the air, catches it in his mouth on the way down. Again talks with his mouth full, which is sort of the Tony Stark equivalent of coughing and mumbling when you have to say something embarrassing. “Okay yes, my behavior before with the whole… y’know, kidnapping thing… was less than awesome and I was… less right than usual, okay? And now I just think we should leave him alone.”

“And I just think we should find a way to help him.”

“How, though? What’s he need?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because he’s not saying.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows, waiting for Tony to make his point.

“If he’s not saying anything then he’s probably not needing anything,” says Tony.

“Wow,” Bruce says. “I thought maybe you were just putting on a show so you could win the argument, but you really have pulled a U-ie.”

“Look, if you’re right, and this has nothing to do with spandex, and he really does want to be at Jonestown, then we’d be poking our way into his personal, poorly-guarded-secret-identity life and — aside from being just plain rude — probably fucking him up even worse in the long run, even if we did manage to get him to quit the club. And if I’m right, and he’s only there to work a job or… I dunno, whaddaya call it, a case? A mission? If he’s there to do Spider-Man stuff, then we’d be poking our way into that and probably fucking that up, which could get him killed. …I feel like this is overall just a no-pokey situation.”

“As if you never benefit from people sticking their noses in your business from time to time,” Bruce says, looking pointedly at the blueberry bag and Tony’s hand reaching into it.

“How dare you. JARVIS is not a ‘people’. He’s better than that.”

“I’m not saying we barge in guns blazing. But we should try to do something.”

“Great idea, and here’s another one: How ‘bout we don’t.”

“Enough don’t,” says Bruce. “We’ve been don’ting — or, you have been, rather — ever since—“

“JARVIS, music.”

“Which playlist, sir?”

“How ‘bout the GTFO party mix.”

Bruce isn’t sure how he immediately recognizes the opening of “Back Off, Bitch” by Guns N’ Roses — it’s very much not to his taste — but he does, and rolls his eyes.

It’s been over two months since both Spider-Man and reason fled Tony, and both have yet to come back. Been a little longer than that since Pepper left — physically left the Manhattan offices, since Tony refused to do so (the adult version of a child screaming get out of my room), and while Bruce sympathizes with her choices and with her need to be geographically removed from Tony, he more than sympathizes with Tony’s need for the anchor she provided.

These days Bruce can think of Betty without risking a news-breaking incident. If you’d asked him as a younger man whether a person could experience sadness so visceral that their body interprets it as a very real threat to life and limb, his answer would’ve been different, and uninformed. He still thinks “sadness” is a hell of a way to describe the existential anguish that is Betty’s absence from his life. Mostly, therefore, Bruce only thinks of Betty long enough to remember her name, and that they love each other — and that he has a good idea of what Tony’s going through with Pepper being gone.

And if Bruce can spend as much time with Tony as he does, then he must have some kind of nebulous, intuitive understanding of both how and why Spider-Man would spend time with Deadpool.

…And if Bruce is projecting onto both Tony and Spider-Man, he can’t help it. He’s not the most empathetic person, but sometimes empathy, like rage, is unstoppable.

Hmm.

He creeps up behind Tony — already back to “tinkering” and hellbent on ignoring him — and putting his hands on his knees, leans over. His mouth is an inch from Tony’s ear before Tony is even aware that Bruce is in his personal space.

“Mikey,” says Bruce, more than loud enough to be heard over the music.

Tony swats him with a backhand without looking. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU, BUT YOU GO RIGHT ON AHEAD AND KEEP TALKING.”

“His name’s Mikey!” says Bruce.

Tony throws down the screwdriver, waves vaguely for JARVIS to mute the music, and flops his hands on his knees. Sighs, heavily. “Don’t name it, you’ll just wanna keep it,” he says.

“He looks like a Mikey, too,” Bruce adds.

“Of course he does, he’s obviously an adorable babyface who was raised on wholesome cereal that’s a part of this complete breakfast. And overlooking the question of how the hell you found this out, why in the fuck would you tell me?”

Bruce shrugs. “He’s our friend.”

“Yes! He is! Our friend who loves his secret identity! And you know me, you know I’ll never be able to unlearn that. Why would you—” Tony squashes both hands to his face and takes a breath. “Look, I may be accidentally anathema to consistency, but I like to try anyway, okay? I’ve actually had to work very hard not to learn Spidey’s IRL bullshit. Do you understand how hard that is? Do you realize how much he sucks at the secret identity schtick, Gumby?”

“Gumby. Because he’s green. I get it.”

“Seriously. Why.”

Bruce shrugs. “To remind you that he’s human?”

“I know he’s human!”

“And that we all know you’re still very, very sorry about what happened, but running from your guilt by switching from extreme overprotectiveness to an extreme hands-off policy is probably not going to solve any problems.”

Tony narrows his eyes.

Bruce shifts his weight, settling back a little.

“Okay,” says Tony in a profoundly reasonable voice as he rises from the floor. His back pops, twice, when he stretches it. (His eyes bug a little, but he manages not to groan even though he clearly wants to.) “I’ll do some remote surveillance around the place and have JARVIS ping me if anything looks weird. I mean. Dangerous-weird, not creepy-weird. We’re already way past creepy-weird. So this way we’re doing something, but not sticking our hands in up to the elbow. Sounds like a pretty fair compromise to me. Coffee?”

It takes Bruce a couple seconds to realize he just won. “Great,” he says. “I mean, about the idea, not about the coffee. I know damn well that’s not decaf. …You shouldn’t have any, either,” he adds, reaching for the cold pot and holding it out of reach before Tony can touch it.

“Of course I should. I’m a busy adult with many important things to do. And cocaine’s still illegal.” He opens the minifridge, and Bruce closes it with his foot before a can of Monster can escape.

Tony fixes him with a look. “You’re cruel to me,” he announces.

“Mm-hm. How many hours since you slept?”

Tony pretends to consider the question, then gives up. “JARVIS?”

“Thirty-one hours, sir.”

“Thirty-one hours, Brucie Boy,” says Tony.

“C’mon,” Bruce says, reaching for Tony’s elbow. “You’re going to bed.”

“Nah! Nahahah nnno!” He curls away. “You’re gonna have to wash the hell out of your hands if you want to put them anywhere near me.”

“Tony, you’re standing there in a cloud of your own thirty-hour stink and I seriously doubt if you’ve changed your underwear since the weekend. Don’t talk to me about germs.”

Tony hisses.

Bruce makes a grab for him.

“Jesus, your hands are cold!”

“Come on.”

“I need an adult!”

“Tony—“

“I’m not tired.”

“Worse than a nine-year-old…”

“Ow! Did I say you could—“

“Would you just—“

“Okay! Let go, alright! Hands off, I’m going, I’m going.”

“Go to bed, Tony.”

“You’re not my real dad.”

Somewhere in the lava flow of his subconscious, Bruce can feel the Other Guy roll his eyes, at both of them.

Hey! If you like this scene, or if you like the fic in general, if it has added some kind of value to your life, and only if you are comfortable with it and can afford it, please consider tipping the author.

There are zero negative consequences to not tipping. That is totally chill. Author understands what it's like to not be able to respond to a donation request (and also to just... not wanna) and officially absolves you of all guilt and guilt-related feelings. Author is nonetheless forced to make a public request for donations so that the people who already can and want to will be able to do so.

Positive impacts of tipping include: supporting an unemployed autistic, helping someone get out of A Situation, validating many hours of emotionally difficult work with a material survival resource, and (author hesitates to mention this because it feels borderline manipulative but, dammit, for the next several hours it is also true) congratulating someone on surviving another year because today (wednesday) is author's birthday.

Have an excellent rest of your day.

[shawnallenblog]

Dear Gord: Silence's Ransom.

Late breaking story on the CBC A nation whispers, "We always knew that he'd go free" They add, "You can't be fond of living in the past 'Cause if you are then there's no way that you're going to last"

Wheat kings and pretty things Let's just see what tomorrow brings

- lyrics from "Wheat Kings" by The Tragically Hip

 You are not getting out of this alive. This is a very present reality for Gord. 

For about 32 years Gord Downie has been the frontman and primary songwriter of the famous Canadian band, the Tragically Hip. On May 24, 2016 Gord's life slammed head first into a blunt reality check, Gord had been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, he had a massive glioblastoma in his head. After near immediate brain surgery, chemo and radiation therapy Gord bravely decided that the show must go, honorably he wanted to continue with his mission and passion.  So, he and his blokes scheduled a final four week cross-Canada farewell tour which ended in a “Canada is closed” tour closing extravaganza which ended on August 20th, 2016 in his hometown of Kingston, Ontario.  Canada was offically closed that night, quite literally.  Gord decided to still share, give back, live, and carry on with his life's gifts.  Gord's life has always been about music from what I can tell, telling great stories and bringing people joy through his gift.  Ever the story teller, the songs hit home and get personal, one such song is about the Toronto Maple Leaf NHL defenseman who scored the 1951 Stanley Cup-winning goal shortly before dying in a plane crash. Another, the mood perfect haunting "Wheat Kings" tells the story of David Milgaard, a Canadian wrongfully accused of murder. Gord's song writing means something, it says something, and I suspect this gave his music deep meaning, his days greater meaning, and his life a clearer purpose.

We are all going to die. If you are not starting to get comfortable with that reality, things are going to get pretty painful as your time winds down. Avoidance of acceptance of your final guaranteed demise will not make it escapable. If you wait and avoid you are going to possibly feel pretty frantic in those last days trying to meet your goals, dreams, wishes, hopes and tell those you love how much they meant to you being in your life. You are going to likely wish for more time. You are going to want some "do overs". Again, let me be clear, if you are reading this in the evening, you are one more day closer to that moment.  It is coming, trust me. So, get busy. The problem is, we think we have time.

I spent the better part of three decades enjoying Gord and the rest of "The Hip’s” stories and music. Music touches something deep in us, and unlike many other forms of entertainment in this world, we can return to music over and over again and it only gets better. The memories stay and sometimes get richer. Repeatedly, an album can grow on us and take deeper meaning and a comforting place, marking moments in our life, time-stamping memories and events that usually live on forever while others merely fade away. This is what Gord and the boys did for me, and much of Canada. 

The fact of the matter now is that Gord might not have many years left, none of us may to be honest, but I sure hope that he is the exception and not the rule for this type of cancer, I think there is so much more music in that man's soul. The truth of the matter is that he would love the time we are all wasting doing frivolous nonsensical things like watching Youtube videos of foolish teenagers skateboard down handrails often snagging their dangling parts on the rails, or climbing on the edges of rooftop edges doing handstands while snapping selfies. Make no mistake, Gord is not wasting his time doing these kinds of foolish things causally risking what is preciously left his life.   He knows how short an hourglass can be on sand. He is likely packing it all in, loading the boat, loving hard and living openly and freely. He is likely sampling life slowly, richly, buying the good chocolates, and having deep meaningful experiences with friends. We, on the other hand, think we have time and that is our mistake.  We waste so much time in this short life. The fact of the matter is any day now we could get the same call from our doctor with the same gut wrenching news. We are all wasting time. We all think we have enough time, that we can "get to it tomorrow".  Do we have time ? Can we "get to it tomorrow” ? There is still plenty of time right? 

In your last breaths on this spinning rock on which we dwell, there will likely be silence. If you are lucky to be surrounded by your loved ones, it will be a silence of crushing sadness for them. Complete silence will undoubtedly mark the exact moment of your transcendence.  And in that silence those observers, if you are lucky to have a few, will once again be reminded as they have many times before of the brevity of this trip we call life. In the silence, during that nauseating punch in the gut moment, there will be a reminder to get busy doing more and loving more grandly. Sadly, in the noise of our lives, as the days and weeks march on, how soon we will forget this lesson in the silence. In Gord's words from the song A Beautiful Thing, there is brilliant stark wisdom to what that silence is screaming. Lets all try to better hear and remember these words, spoken from the silence. 

"In the ulcerating silence perspective comes,

the way it always does for it’s ransom."     -Gord Downie

Here is a final punch in the face.  Within the hour of reading this you will soon forget what I have written here. Snapchat, Youtube, Netflix, HBO, they all suck us into an oblivion of wasted time, distraction from the vein of life, a lull of immediate gratification.  How soon we will all forget how short this trip is, the weeks and months will march onward, until we are again faced with something more grave and agonizing that forces us to sit in the silence again. Hopefully that silence is not our own. 

In the mean time, I give thanks. Thank you Gord, thank you deeply for leaving beautiful scars on my life that are still vivid. You have been part of the soundtrack of my life, adding color and depth to the memories and locking them in, deep and permanent.  Keep the good stuff coming brother. Like a wedding or movie, memories are not the same when not time-stamped by music. My life has been enriched and imprinted by the bands that have drawn me in to their muse. Thank you again Gord, for finding your passion and for continuing to shout it out loud, in your own unique way, with flare and passion and  heart. Thank you for your time, it is one of the greatest most unselfish gifts in life, giving someone your time.

The problem is, we all think we have time.  From Gord's lips to your ears, in a haunting yet deeply loving whisper,  "you might not my friend, so get busy". 

Again,  . . . 

"In the ulcerating silence perspective comes, 

The way it always does for it’s ransom."  -Gord Downie,

Much love Gord, over the miles, . . . . .  always. Thank you.

- Shawn Allen

Tragically Hip: Canada says farewell to a National Treasure.  Rolling Stone Magazine