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bluepenguinstories · 4 years ago

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Happiness Overload Chapter Sixty-One

Like before, I was how it began. I was also how it would end.

I knew it was coming up, and things were coming together, although with a few gaps. That was fine, of course. I would be happy either way. Whether it made sense or didn’t. But I knew that things couldn’t be perfect. I never counted on that in the first place.

I smiled as I took a bite out of my cotton candy. What a delight the fluffy sugar concoction was. Although it was a great source of joy, I also felt that if I were to part with it, I would be happy either way. Because of course I would be. That was how it worked.

“Say, cotton candy, do you believe in guardian angels?” I grinned as I took a bite into my cotton candy. Of course the food made no reply, but I was happy to have its company all the same, and I would be all the more happier if my pink sugar friend could talk to me.

“YES! GUARDIAN ANGELS ARE BEST!”

I couldn’t agree more.

“And do you believe in succubi? Demons?”

“IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY, THEN YES!”

“What about eldritch beings beyond mortal comprehension?”

“YES! HAPPINESS IS BEYOND COMPREHENSION!”

Again, couldn’t agree more. Comprehension itself was a funny word which made little sense to me. Things didn’t have to make sense to be happy, although a little awareness never hurt the experience.

Soon Velvet and Coriander would make it to the front of the headquarters, and so too would I. While it took me a while to get used to the new name, I had to admit that Coriander fit her well. Although I’ve not known her long, I figured it was fine enough to add her to the roster of friends that I’ve made along the way.

I let out a sigh. The kind one would make after sipping a really fizzy soda. Or maybe it was less of a sigh and more of a burp.

I really couldn’t be happier for them, and I could be very happy. If nothing else could be said, at least I could say that I got to see my friends. Just like I wanted.

Was it true that I did things because doing something always felt better than doing nothing? I mean, gee, I faked my way into the CIA, I stole a UFO from Area 51, I lived underneath a university and took orders from a conspiracy nut, I saved a clone’s life, I lived underneath a pyramid among stoner aliens for over three years, and I had one hell of a time going to Area 51 all over again.

...What a mess my life has been. But it wasn’t that I did such over the top things without purpose. There was always a reason behind what I did, even if at times it was because I tried to run away from a smaller problem.

But was it true that I was still that way?

Partially. Yes.

I mean, at the moment, I was running toward the front of an evil organization’s headquarters along with my girlfriend (no applause necessary) and we were about to bust in on whatever evil geniuses awaited us. The reason behind it all was in an effort to save our version of Earth, or at least save something.

But it was a little different, too.

Throughout our struggle in The Flashbulb HQ, I’ve declared that Coriander was more important to me than the world itself. That it didn’t matter what happened to the world as long as she was safe, and I meant it. I fucking meant that.

Even if we failed, at least we’d fail together. It was amazing to think that someone like me could have even been in a relationship with someone. I never saw it coming, that was for sure. It was never planned that way, but a welcome addition.

“Hey, how are we going to intimidate them without a weapon?” I turned to my partner (both in crime, and in life).

“Damn it! We should have thought about that before we ran out!” She cursed.

“Well, we’ll figure out something. We’ve made it this far,” I reassured the both of us. I didn’t know how much reassurance she needed, or if it was all me. Like the furthest we got to the front, the more the feeling of powerlessness sank in.

“Hey,” I gulped. “I’m sorry about back there. Us going along with Popsigirl.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who said to go along with it,” she replied through growled words.

“I know, but I feel like I should have done more to protect you from her and –”

“Enough!” She snapped. “I...I don’t even want to think about her right now!” I saw her shake in place and my worry only grew from there. It seemed like she even scared herself, as she looked my way, but not at me.

“I’m sorry. I get that you’re worried about me,” her voice but a murmur. “But I’m trying to put my feelings aside because I don’t want to spend the rest of my days here. Whether I’m even able to live on Earth again or not, if I’m going to have any chance at that, these guys need to be defeated, and if there’s a chance, any at all, I’ll take it.”

“I understand that,” I should have been on the same page. Because of course defeating The Flashbulb was our goal.

“Am I selfish for this?” She asked, which surprised me even more.

I shook my head. “I want the same thing.” Of course I could say that. But I wanted more. Or I wanted less.

No. Never mind that. Not when we were so close. If I had to choose between the world and her, I’d choose her. But that didn’t mean I would stop fighting for the world, either. Just as she said, as long as there’s a chance…

“Let’s keep going,” I told her. She nodded.

It was somewhere during the race against time, something which didn’t even feel real, when I realized what it was: it wasn’t that we weren’t in sync. Rather, I had rubbed off on her.

“Hey,” she turned to me and it looked to me like she was trying to force out a smile. “What do you say? ‘Til death do us part?”

Yet again, I was shocked. One hit KO damage. Minus 9999 HP.

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “Whatever that means.”

It wasn’t so much that I fancied the idea of living in such a place among people who probably ruined countless lives, but maybe you could say that I grew acclimated? Or I accepted that my life as a head nurse’s assistant, as it seemed I needed to have a place somehow. All in all, it wasn’t too bad.

I mean, Dr. Nightingale could be quite domineering. It wasn’t just that it seemed like she hovered over everyone’s heads, either, but maybe it had to do with her whip and fishnet stockings. But it wasn’t like she was a bad person. Sure, she took care of all those other Flashbulb members who got injured on the job, but I could tell that it came from a place of care. Then again, it could have all been wishful thinking. She provided care, I provided aftercare.

Mostly it was stuff like, “go get ‘em, tiger!” and “even a broken leg walks twice a day!” No, I didn’t see how that helped, but I did my best.

Even so, I was restless. Maybe that was how I would live out the rest of my life. Restless in a placed, surrounded by potential enemies. Unable to ever see my brother again.

Jeez. That thought out of all the others was the worst one. Sure, it could have been said that I was too dependent on him and that I could never really function well on my own. When I did live on my own, I had trouble paying the rent every month, and instead would spend my money on little trinkets in crafts, hobby, and hardware stores. Then there was me with jobs, always too distracted. When I faced an eviction notice and he took me in, well...It was like he was more of a caretaker and less of a sibling. He never asked for any rent and made sure I ate and all because he fancied the idea of helping others. Maybe that’s who I should have been, instead of making little crafts and gadgets.

Maybe that’s how it would have been for all of my friendships, and any potential relationship. It was too hard to see myself as anyone else other than the dependent one. That was why it was so important for us to separate from the others, because otherwise I would have been too reliant on others, and that would have really gotten to me.

It was the same for Trent, too. Or maybe I had pushed that on him. No, I couldn’t let myself think that way. He wanted to stay on Earth.

Is he dead?

My heart dropped at the notion of such a thought, but it was the likely scenario. At least he got to choose something that made him happy before we parted ways.

I shook my head. What would the others think, if they saw me? Smiley ol’ me, sulking. They had their own purpose, and if things all went well, they would soon leave as well. I couldn’t force Blanc, Velvet, or Coriander to stay even if I wanted to. I wanted them to live the best life they could, and I already knew that meant going their own path.

If the organization dissolved, where would that leave me? I had to believe that things would fall into place when the time came, but things didn’t always work that way.

“I’ll just roll with the punches,” I smiled as I shook my head. Some kind of pep talk was necessary. “I need to find my own path as well.”

Memories could be bittersweet, and they could fade with time. Even worse, you could forget the whole thing. But in such a short time, I made four new friends (although it was awkward once I figured out the twist with Verse, hoo boy. But what can I say? I was awkward Queen Juniper of Awkwardland. A few bruh moments here and there were to be expected) and I was really grateful for that. Each one of them brought something different with them and gave me a new experience.

Sometimes, I too needed to take action.

“Hey Dr. Nightingale,” I greeted after getting up. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Oh, how bold,” Dr. Nightingale spoke in a mocking tone. For such a nightingale, she seemed more like a mockingbird. Then again, I knew it came from a place of love. “One of my subs wants to suggest something to me.”

“I mean, if that’s okay with you,” I started to get nervous. No! I scolded myself. Now is not the time to be meek!

“Yeah, of course. Just put your suggestion in the suggestion box.”

“Oh!” I didn’t realize it was that simple. “Where is the suggestion box? On your desk?”

“Nope! It’s a couple kilomiles down the hall.”

“Kilomiles?”

“Yeah, don’t they teach you anything in nursing school? It’s like kilometers and miles. Simple, really. Not that it matters, since you can’t really tell the distance just by walking.”

“Right, that makes sense! So is it okay if I go over there now?”

“Go for it, missy. No one’s sick or injured right now and it’s really bumming me out.”

“Yeah, that’s...uh...too bad? Anyway, best of luck, break a leg, but maybe not too hard?” With that out of the way, I hurried off to the fabled suggestion box.

Indeed, it took a lot of walking, and if I had to take a gander at the distance from the Medical Department, indeed, I would have said that it was a couple of kilomiles. To my disappointment, the suggestion box was just a little box situated on the wall with what seemed to be thousands upon thousands crumpled up pieces of paper, all covered in dust.

“Huh. I didn’t even know dust was a thing here,” I remarked, thinking that no one else could hear me.

“You’d think that, but for some strange reason, the air purifier that filters the whole headquarters doesn’t seem to function in this one particular area. I’ve put in a suggestion to fix it, but as you can see, there’s a great deal of queries to go through before my suggestion gets taken into consideration,” someone beside me replied and I jumped where I stood. Whether the voice was of a horrific mad scientist or a blessing in disguise was anyone’s guess. I turned around.

Right before my eyes was some brunette lady in a lab coat and clipboard (already sus). I did my best to give her the benefit of the doubt, though maybe it was because she looked pretty. Especially because of how tall she was and her glasses...shit. Just like Verse. I near fainted at the idea that it could be her.

“Jeez, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Which I’ve also placed a suggestion for a Paranormal Department, though now that I think of it, sounds a little redundant given all the paranormal antics our departments have had to deal with.”

“You are…?” I asked, scared shitless to find out the answer, but curious nonetheless.

“I’m Dr. Hepburn of the HR Department. That’s Hepburn with a capital ‘K’. Though most people already know that. Why don’t you?” Those last few words. It wasn’t her that was suspicious, it was me.

“I’m new here and mostly stick to my department, sorry,” I explained in a rather haphazard fashion. “I’m one of the head nurse’s assistants.”

“Ah,” she let out a long and exaggerated sigh, which looked like a yawn, and on second thought, it wasn’t a sigh at all, but just an ‘ahhhh’, y’know? She went on: “One of Nightingale’s subs. Not sure why she calls them that, I certainly didn’t suggest it.”

“Yeah, me either,” I let out a nervous laugh. “I would have been just fine being called an assistant.”

“So is that why you’re here? To suggest that?”

Damn. That was a good suggestion. If only I had thought of that.

I shook my head. “Actually, I wanted to suggest a couple of things. First off, I think there should be some therapists around. Like, maybe a therapy department?”

Dr. Hepburn took out a pencil and started to chew on it. “Nn...nope, sorry. That’s one thing the suggestion box can’t do. Well, the suggestion box can’t do anything, really. It just sits there. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if it had a life of its own. Would it go around suggesting things to people? I imagine that would get annoying after a while.”

“Aw, man,” I hunched over, defeated. “Well how do new departments get made, then?”

She nibbled on her pencil some more. “You know, once you get past the pulpy taste and into the graphite, it’s really something.”

I waited for her to answer my question, and not long into waiting, she took the pencil out of her mouth and put it back into one of her pockets.

“Yeah, so it’s kind of a lengthy process,” she explained. “First a group of people at the front of the ship take a look at all the different versions of Earth across various times and see what aspects of human life can be approved upon. Then they write a report and send it in to Grandmaster Flash. After that, a new department is decided and a group of scientists are assembled. Although I will say, a therapy department isn’t a bad idea. The closest thing we’ve had to one of those was the Morale Department and it turns out that forcing people to be happy in order to preserve subservience doesn’t really help. Who would have thought?”

“Riiiiight,” I rolled my eyes. I didn’t mean to be so rude, but...that kind of thing was exactly why I had to leave home. “I would put my other suggestion in, but considering the long line, it might be better to come back later. Sorry to take up your time,” I began to walk away when she called me back to her. Well, it didn’t quite play out like that.

“Don’t bother,” she called to me. “No one ever reads these things! This box only exists to make people think we’re going to make any sort of improvements!”

I turned around and headed back toward her, as if I was lured on a string. Though that didn’t make much sense. Her quirks surpassed even mine.

“How is that an effective system?” I asked, and immediately regretted it. There was only so much bold I could be.

She shrugged. “It’s not, but what can I do? It’s not my department. Besides, isn’t it nice to make people think that you listen to them, even if you don’t?”

“Aren’t you tired of being nice, Dr. Hepburn? Don’t you ever just wanna go apeshit?”

“Yeah!” She pumped her fists. “Sometimes when I pop popcorn, I cancel the timer on the microwave two seconds before it’s set to go off because I’m just not vibing with those beeps!”

Wow. What a mad lass.

“Really living on the edge there, I see.”

“What about you, Nightingale’s little helper?”

“I...er...well, I wouldn’t really call myself a ‘nice’ person, per se...like, friendly, maybe? But really, I’m just passive. So yeah. Real hypocritical of me to tell you not to be.”

“Nah, I can tell, you got a fire in you,” she encouraged with just a right amount of vigor and then some. “What’s your doctor name, anyway?”

“I’m not actually a doctor, but my name’s Juniper.”

As soon as I said that, I felt a stinging sensation in my foot. Like I had just shot myself. Point blank range.

“Mm...mm...I see. I think I had a pencil with you in it before. Or maybe it was sycamore. Say, have you ever tried acacia?”

“Can’t say that I have, no.” Seriously, who eats wood? I mean, cereal, I get, but wood?

“Gotta try it sometime.”

“I’ll think about it,” I told her, just to, y’know, be nice.

“Oh, and by the way, I heard from someone earlier that there’s a few people looking to overthrow our organization. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Shitfuckpisscrunklimabeansblackeyedpeas.

“Aren’t people trying to do that all the time?” I shot back, nervous laughter.

“Yeah, I guess. I was just curious, really. Not like it’s my job to report such activity, and I really couldn’t care less. Just as long as those folks are having fun, that’s my motto.”

Bless this weirdo.

“Actually! Yes! I know something! Those people –”

She ran up to me and covered my mouth with her hand, then she leaned in real close and spoke in a harsh whisper. “Careful. There are cameras everywhere. They can record your voice. Do you understand?”

I nodded my head. I really did almost get myself into trouble.

“Good,” she backed away. “Anyway, what was it you said? ‘Go apeshit’?”

I nodded once more, even though it was probably safe to speak.

“Hope there’s some apeshit going!” She grinned and turned away. Before we parted ways, she turned and spoke once more:

“Who knows? It gets old not seeing any real improvements sometimes,” she winked. “Maybe I can do my part for the team and work on myself a bit!”

It took me a second to realize what she was getting at, and even then, I was confused as to why she would try to help, even if the most she did was not report Coriander and Velvet. Whatever Dr. Hepburn had up her sleeve, curiosity got the better of me.

“Wait!” I called to her. On impulse, I found myself running toward her.

“Hmm?” She turned around. “Don’t you have some assistants to nurse? Or...erm...how does it go? Nurses...to...nurse?”

“Nurses to assist,” I corrected.

“Right! That’s the one!”

“Wanna know what my other suggestion was going to be?” I asked.

“I’m not a box, but sometimes I feel like a rectangle, so close enough. Go ahead.”

What’s with you and boxes?

“I want to invent stuff too!” I declared.

“Are you a doctor or a scientist?”

“No. Well, my brother is, but he’s more the medical kind?” I should have sounded more confident. I knew for sure that he was the medical kind already.

“Then I’m afraid they won’t let you invent anything,” she brought down the bad news. But then I caught the glimpse of a smile and she handed me her pencil. Full of bite marks.

“Why?” I stood baffled.

“It’s a cool pencil. You should see some of the finer details,” she nudged. Not wanting to feel rude, I looked down and noticed a long set of words:

“But that won’t matter if there’s no organization.”

I looked back at her and she winked.

“Come now, we’ve much work to do.”

“We do?”

“If you’re going to follow me, you’re going to be my assistant. But instead of a sub, I’m thinking...auntie.”

“Auntie?”

“Yeah, like an auntie HR.”

I repeated those two words, and then it clicked.

“Ohhh...smart!”

“We’ve got many departments to visit,” she informed me while tapping on her clipboard.

I beamed. Maybe I still felt like I was leaning on someone else, but at the same time, I felt like things were taking a proactive turn. If nothing else, things sure did take some kind of turn.

We burst onto the scene after knocking out a couple of guards that guarded (just like guards do, I guess?) the door to the front of the headquarters and stole their guns from them. Now we could really go in guns blazin’.

“Prepare for trouble!” I announced as I pointed the heavy weapon at a couple of men in dark attire and bowler caps. None of them looked quite so threatening. Coriander also pointed the heavy weapon, which impressed me that she could carry such a thing, but she really did come far in such a short amount of time. However, she said nothing.

“Come on!” I turned to Coriander and begged. “Say the thing!”

“I’m not gonna,” she followed up her statement with a drop of spit shot down on the floor. Then she turned her attention to the skittish men next to a large console with a wide array of buttons. Above the console I could see what seemed like a near-infinite amount of monitors. “This is a hostile takeover. You’re all going down.”

The two men turned to each other.

“Already? I thought we weren’t scheduled to be attacked yet. Aren’t you guys a little early?” One of them, the shorter of the two, with freckles on his chin asked.

“No!” I sent them a devilish grin. “Because we aren’t whoever was scheduled to attack you! Unlike those guys, we don’t make plans!”

“We don’t?” Coriander replied. “Then how did we even know to come here?”

“Okay, so does your group have a name?” Questioned the taller one. Resembled asparagus.

“Yeah! We’re Lights Out! A rogue group dedicated to taking down The Flashbulb!” I declared, proud as all hell.

“Really? That’s the name you’re going to go with?” Coriander’s criticism overrode my cool factor.

“What? You got a better name?” I argued.

“In fact, I do. We’re now Flash in a Pan!”

Eh. Not the best. I hated to break it to her, too, since she seemed so proud of the name.

“I’ve got one better, love,” I shook my head in disapproval.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hmm! We’ll call ourselves the No Flash!”

“Um��” Both of them looked at us in utter confusion, like, what? Which aspect confused them?

“We’ll discuss this later,” Coriander wasn’t going to let the name thing go.

“Indeed!” I grinned once more. “As for you two, it’s time to call it quits! We’ve already killed Grandmaster Flash!”

“That’s right, fuckos!” Coriander added. “God is dead and we’ve killed them!”

The two looked at each other. Then, the taller one declared:

“That’s impossible!” In such a dramatic gasp that I figured I could have said it better, and I was never even a theater kid.

“Impossible for most, but not for us!” I boasted. “When a redhead gay and a blue haired gay get together, anything can happen!”

“No, it’s impossible because there is no Grandmaster Flash. That’s just a rumor we made up,” the shorter one explained.

“Yeah, just a prank,” agreed the asparagus.

Then, a new voice showed up through the speakers:

“You hear that, everyone? Your boss ain’t shit!”

I recognized that voice right away. I glanced over at Coriander and her face looked flushed.

Then, more voices. Murmurs from several others.

“H...How?” Asparagus shook in fear. I think the shorter one peed his pants. Then asparagus did as well. “You let her out?”

I gulped. I felt like I was about to commit a betrayal, but with any luck, she’d only see it as part of the kayfabe.

“That’s right! We’re such a force to be reckoned with that we freed your artist and got her to work for us! Now, surrender and we won’t have to turn the room into a bloodbath!”

Once I said that, the taller one no longer seemed so frightened.

“Sure, we weren’t expecting visitors, but we can still make quick work of you. We’ve cut down thousands of resistances, what makes you think things will be different?”

“Because I’m gay!” I shouted.

Solid argument, Velvet. A+.

“Guards, come get rid of these pests,” commanded the asparagus. After a few tense seconds (but who was counting? Not me. No way. Really, the only way to know that seconds passed was by counting, so let’s just dis-count all that) nothing happened.

“What? Come in! Guards!”

No answer.

“If they won’t answer to that, we’ll just set off the security alarm! It should have gone off already, anyway!”

He pressed a button, but again, nothing happened. Once more, art hoe’s voice crackled in:

“I disabled all communications and any security measures! Who know I could be a hacker, too? I really can make an art out of everything!” She cackled, just as the speakers stopped crackling.

“How? Our systems should be too elaborate!” He looked much more panicked now. His knees grew weaker and weaker by the sec...oh, forget it.

“Fear not, Dr. Modest,” the short one spoke. “We may not have access to our countless armies and our armed guards, nor to our lasers and turrets, but we still have one trick up our sleeve.

“What is that, Dr. Humble?” Dr. Modest (aw, I was really having fun with calling him asparagus) asked.

“Let’s call upon a janitor or two! No price is too high!”

Dr. Humble pressed a button and spoke:

“Hey, can we get someone here to clean up a mess of ours?”

When he once again didn’t get an answer, he slammed his fist against the console.

“How? There was no way Dr. Katsushika could have cut off access to the janitors!” He seethed with rage.

Dr. Katsushika? Dr. Who (no reference intended)?

“Nope! Not me! Can’t take credit! If there’s some other reason, the credit should go to the proper artist! I’m many things, but an art thief I am not!” Dr. Art declared. Even with her not physically there, it was creepy how she kept cutting in.

“All right,” Dr. Modest groaned. “Just tell us what you want.”

“Simple!” Coriander barked. “To get on your knees and die!”

While I wasn’t against such a thing, there sure was more to it than that.

“In broader terms, we’re calling for the end of The Flashbulb, and not only that, but for the damages done to our version of Earth to be undone!”

“Sure. Which Earth is yours?”

I had to think about it. But it looked to me like Coriander already had that part rehearsed, as she picked up where I left off:

“Does the name Dr. Etna ring a bell? What about angels? Manic attacks?”

Dr. Modest’s eyes widened.

“The Morale Department…” He muttered.

“That’s right!”

“We’ve implemented the department once before in another timeline and it seemed to work just fine, but then we had to dissolve it because it got out of control in the next timeline.”

“Yeah. That’s the one we’re from. Now fix it, and don’t just turn back time and act like everything’s cool!”

“Hey Dr. Humble, why haven’t we turned back time for that timeline yet? I thought we were going to do that.”

“I think we announced it to Dr. Etna and then she begged for a little more time and said she’d figure something out. After that, we kind of forgot about the whole thing.”

“Shame on us, huh?”

It was my turn to speak. I remembered a conversation once spoken from an elder Beige.

“It wouldn’t matter,” my voice turned solemn. “When you guys turn back time, what you’re really doing is just creating a new timeline,” then, I found myself losing my cool altogether. “The timeline you think you’ve reversed lives on! You can’t just ignore what you’ve done and claim to do better the next time around! People’s lives have been damaged thanks to you, and going back won’t undo the damages! The only real fix is to make things better in the now!”

Dr. Modest sighed. He really did sound defeated, even if he believed the organization couldn’t possibly be defeated.

“Even if what you say is true, there’s really nothing we can do,” he turned his attention to Coriander. “You’re aware of the force that’s destroyed your world, aren’t you?”

Coriander, too, looked defeated. It was like she already knew what he would say next. I couldn’t be the only one left triumphant.

“Yes, we unleashed something we couldn’t control, but we can’t just un-unleash it.”

“That explains it! That’s why we didn’t do anything with that timeline yet! I forgot all about that!” Dr. Humble realized. “It’s because even if we did, there would have still been a chance for the celestial to cross over. We then decided the safest way we could reverse time was to wait until the world got destroyed, that way we could ensure that the celestial ceases to be.”

“Celestial?” I asked.

“Cosmic entity, angel, Flonne, Euphoria, Succubi, et cetera. We can never really decide on a name to call the thing, other than a big bundle of joy.”

“Well your big bundle of joy cost us billions of lives,” I growled.

“But yeah, there’s no way to get rid of it. I’m sure you two would have preferred a near-destroyed planet to a destroyed one, but the celestial would still exist.” Dr. Humble opined.

“So what?! What are we supposed to do?!” I choked up. I gripped tighter to the gun but it brought me no joy. “We should have won! You guys are scientists! You should be able to figure something out! You fucked the world and gave it a big ol’ STD and try to offer sympathy?!”

It really was true, then. There was no perfect outcome. Or, if there was, it was never figured out. Even by the masters of time, themselves, they had no solution. Our best possible outcome eluded us, and the weight of the current one fell down on me. All I could think to do was allow my anger to take hold and beat the shit out of those two, but before I could even do that, a new voice came in through a panel on the console:

“Except, you’re going to be waiting a while!” Came a low, deep, but also high and maniacal voice. Just a total contradiction of clashing inflections. “I’ve managed to continue to delay the inevitable, and not only that, but I’ve been able to access your communications for quite some time now.”

“Who is this?” Dr. Modest demanded.

“We’re not close enough to be exchanging names, sorry doc. As for why I’ve decided to serenade you all, it’s because I want to help you out. Let bygones be bygones, even if I hate you all.”

“What are you talking about? Just tell us what you want!” Dr. Humble insisted.

“Earth is on the brink of total collapse and I’m keeping it on its hinges, but only because it would be foolish to let it be destroyed when you don’t even have all of your precious angel down here with me,” with those last few words, I swore I could hear the creases of his lips. “So give me the last bits of beauty, and I’ll let go of all worldly possessions.”

I turned to Coriander. If that ghastly voice meant her, then there was no way I could allow the fiend such a request. She was frozen in fear, and had dropped her weapon, which created a loud thud and blasted a hole through part of the console.

Looks like it was my cue!

I set a couple of pillows down and moved the guards’ heads onto the pillows.

“Good night, sweet prince,” I cooed, then walked through the door.

The stage was already set, and I wished that I could have played spectator a little longer. Shame, really. I bit into my cotton candy once more and saw everyone’s attention turned toward me. Velvet was the first one to say anything.

“Blanc? What are you doing here?” She looked so broken up. Much like her actual world was. Hmm...not good. Not, as the cool kids would have said, gucci. I knew what would cheer Velvet up.

I walked over to Coriander. Ah, such an underrated spice. Many people opt for the nutmeg, instead. Not sure why that was.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t mean you,” I told her.

“I…” Coriander couldn’t seem to get any word out. Maybe I needed to be more direct.

“YOU AIN’T IT, CHIEF!” I shouted with glee.

“Indeed,” the suave voice reverberated once again. “I want Blanc in particular.”

I ran over to the panel where the voice came from.

“BUY ME DINNER FIRST, ASSHOLE!” I yelled into the panel.

“Oh, I’ll certainly be making you a meal, all right,” he crooned. “So won’t you come down and see me?”

Look, this wasn’t very becoming of an all-powerful being, but someone had to say what I was about to say.

“What gives? I don’t even know you! I’ve got no personal stake in this and now, at the last minute, you’re gonna declare you’re the final boss?” Yeah, that’s right. Smackdown.

“Rather disappointing, wouldn’t you say?” He sure did like to tease, and I bet there was little more to him than that.

“Yeah, yeah. So what’s the deal, then? I come down there and let the world be destroyed, along with you in it, for what purpose?”

“So I can taste bappiness,” he belched. I knew that if I didn’t intervene, he’d have said the other thing, which I love! Don’t get me wrong! But I didn’t want to do any more harm to Velvet’s love interest.

I shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

Then I faced the shorter of the two Flashbulb guys.

“Hey Tweedledee, can you beam me down?”

“Yes, and after that, you will die. Are you sure you wish to go through with this?”

“What, like some ultimate sacrifice? Sure, why not?”

“Very well,” he nodded. “I’ll prepare the portal down. Say your goodbyes now.”

Oh goodie! The best part! Well, the most bitterest of the sweet parts, but also the sweetest of the bitter parts! All in all, I think the sweet was the best part!

I went over to Velvet and hugged her, then soon let go. Velvet then put her hands on my shoulders.

“Are you sure about this?”

Gee, same thing the beanbag said.

“Of course I’m sure, Velvet. I’ve already died a few times, what’s one more?” I couldn’t help but smile, even if to others, that might have seemed more grim than intended.

“It’s just…I barely got to see you again and already you’re leaving. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Does it feel rushed?” I wondered. “Or just a general bad feeling?”

She turned her head from each side in a slow fashion. “I’m just going to miss you.”

“Weren’t you the one who said, ‘no matter what form I take, I’m still me’? Well, if that’s the case, then we might see each other again! It won’t be the me standing next to you, or the you standing next to me. They’ll be completely different forms of us, with lives different, but parallel. But it will still be you, and it will still be me!”

She chuckled, intermixed with a few tears shed and fallen into her mouth. She smiled and said, “yeah. Take care.”

“You too!” I beamed, then walked over to Coriander.

“Hey, sorry I’ve made things so difficult for you,” it felt like the first earnest thing I’ve said in a while.

“You’re a little irritating at best. Mildly untrustworthy. Not like you’ve been all that difficult,” she dismissed my statement. Or, rather, misunderstood it.

Oh, right! She thinks I’m talking as Blanc!

“All the same, I think I just wanted to say that if I learned any lesson, it’s that it’s still possible to find joy without the name of the expression.”

She snickered. “You’re really bad at this.”

“Want me to start over? I could try to phrase it a different way.”

“No, no. I got the gist of it.”

“You sure? I’m really bad at improv, but I could try to think of something real quick.”

“That’s really not necessary!”

“All right, then,” I gave in. “What about a hug?”

“I’d prefer a handshake.”

I beamed. That worked, too. I extended my hand and she shook it.

“You weren’t all that bad,” she told me. That also worked for me.

“Neither were you! Or Velvet!”

Oh shoot! I forgot there was one more thing to tell them!

“Hey, Velvet and Cute Spice?” I addressed them. “One more thing before I go: I won’t be able to help you guys from here on out. If my help has really been much help at all. But for what it’s worth, I think you two will do a great job!” I gave them two thumbs up and without much further ado, the portal opened up. Before I went in, I took one last look at them and smiled.

I really was happy to see them.

#happiness overload #writing #scifi #stories #fiction #the flashbulb #grandmaster flash #blanc #cotton candy #happiness #just a few more chapters to go #then its all over

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axelsagewrites · 6 years ago

Text

Magnus Bane*No Tea Tonight PT3

Magnus has had many past lovers. Some subcum to age, some to tradgedy, and some to fights. (Y/N) however was lost, literalley. After going missing on a shadowhunter mission their was no answers. Not till the case was reopened by the Lightwood siblings who were in over there heads.

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

Magnus Bane X Warlock!Reader

Part one Part two

Magnus awoke already annoyed. He didn’t know what at but either way he was giving Chairman Meow the side-eye as he drank his coffee. “Must you meow so loud?” He snapped at one single meow from the cat. Chairman seemed to stare into his soul before he meows again, as loud as a cat possibly could. The warlock rolled his eyes and focused his attention on Brooklyn’s skyline. A nice, penthouse, flat that he didn’t even have to worry about the rent on. Antique furniture’s and artifacts dating back farther than the ones in the museums, and better qualities. A city, world even, of Downworlders who respected him and lusted after him. How could he complain? Magnus mulled these thoughts over in his head. On paper his life was perfect. He was even immortal. If anything, that was a curse. Once his immortality sunk into his mind he realized something awful; he would always outlive who he loved. His family and childhood friends aged and died around him. New friends were there for a blink of an eye. He hadn’t been able to stay anywhere long. They’d realize he hadn’t aged, or he’d be forced to watch them suffer that fate. The few immortals he met were the only ones he wouldn’t lose to age. Vampires and warlocks who hardened over time as they felt the pain of every generation. Every tragedy. Every death. It was hell. No one lives as long as him without a tragedy and after so many, it’s hard to smile. The immortal friends he did make were…quirky. Ragnar tested his patients at every moment, Cat was always busy and like a proper adult, and Tessa kept getting hung up on immortals. But they were friends, family even. Its why he clung so long to Camille. She didn’t age, she wouldn’t get stolen by time. He dealt with someone so toxic because at least she was there. Then there was (Y/N). when they met they never said what they were? Not all Downworlders are obvious, werewolves hide scars, vampires are seen in nightclubs, Seelie’s learn to talk mundane, and warlocks use glamours. (Y/N) could’ve been a mundane with a sight for all he knew. Even still, not knowing how long they would have, Magnus fell for (Y/N). they’d met through Ragnar but were nothing alike. It was a ball, drinks were flowing, music was playing, and peoples sins hide in the corner. (Y/N) wasn’t drinking Magnus noticed. Only wetting their lips with the wine. So, he called her out. “You learn so much more when they think you know so little.” Was all they said, smirking then walking out into the gardens. Magnus followed. “What do you want to learn?” he asked. “Nothing. Everything. Doesn’t matter,” they shrugged, not slowing their pace for the warlock, “It’s like a collection. Some are prized others are left dusty. Did you know the Duchess of Versailles was the mistress of Lady Manda?” Magnus raised an eyebrow, “On its own, it doesn’t matter. Unless you also know Lady Manda’s husband Lord Gordon was trying to create a trade with the prince of Austria who has a feud with the Duke over their son’s affair together.” “How do you know all that?” Magnus asked, stopping his walk as (Y/N) stopped to sniff the roses. “Simple, I’m nothing. My stations not high enough to care, not low enough to look down on. My money's not known to them and around here I’m known to have a drink. When I drink, they drink. When they drink, I listen.” (Y/N) plucked a rose, putting it Magnus’s top pocket, “If I was you, I’d start buying grain from the Duke. The prince has his favor,” “What about the king?” “You won’t have to ask that for long,” (Y/N) said, walking away. Magnus didn’t follow. The advised paid off. Few bought gains from the duke so when tables turned Magnus’s fortunes doubled but (Y/N) was gone. It wasn’t till Venice, a decade late, that he saw (Y/N) again. He’d asked around about (Y/N) but no one seemed to know. No one seemed to care. There was a portrait hung in a restaurant he was in. (Y/N) was in a gondola, rowing across the river. Relaxed, composed, young. It could’ve been painted 10 years ago or 10 days ago. The chances of (Y/N) still being in Venice was slim to none. But he saw them, for a moment. It was a moment enough to convince him to follow. Pushing through crowds, Magnus looked for (Y/N) among the faces. Eventually, he ended up in an alley with no people. The beauty of Venice didn’t exist in this alley. Magnus sighed, about to leave, when “You look good for your age,” “Where are you?” Magnus turned back and saw nothing. He looked up though and saw (Y/N) sitting on the window sill of a building. It was run down and probably closed. “Why are you up there?” “How have you been?” (Y/N) smirked, ignoring the question. “Longs it been? 8 years?” “10. And it wasn’t really a meeting,” (Y/N) shrugged, “Well I wasn’t really sure. You were an uncertain choice. After that vampire’s choice words, I figured I’d let the wind settle before I tried to see where it would blow,” Vampire? Magnus thought, “Camille,” he sighed. “That’s the one. Fewer enemies fewer problems. How is the bitch?” Magnus laughed, “Not friends I see?” “Does that one have friends?” “Not anymore,” “Good for you,” (Y/N) said. They looked over their shoulder before grabbing something and tossing it out the window. A rope swung from the window, almost touching the ground, “Coming in?” It was dangerous. A rouge from what he knew. A run-down Venice building. He wasn’t stupid. But yet Magnus tested the strength of the rope. (Y/N) smirked and it spurred him on. Magnus took hold and began trying to scale the building. Trying because he hadn’t done this since an intense game of truth or dare in the 1700s when windows were lower to the ground. Still, he managed to climb in with catlike ease. “Glad you could join us,” the stranger said. The room was dark, only a couple of candles on a rickety table. (Y/N) handed one to the warlock. “Come on,” (Y/N) smiled a smile. Without a candle or light (Y/N) was able to lead the warlock. (Y/N) was faster though so grabbed his hand lightly to guide him faster. There wasn’t even a door in the doorframe to stop them. Down a wooden staircase with a missing banister, they arrived on a stage. Magnus squinted to see. There were other candles giving off a small light like a star at the start of a night. Looking closer Magnus saw the bodies by the flames. “You’re a warlock right?” (Y/N) asked. Magnus was hesitant to nod. “So’s Gino. Gino!” (Y/N) yelled. A light moved and as it approached Magnus saw the 14-year-old boy with scales covering part of his face, “Yes (Y/N)?” “Another warlock. Like you and Caleb. Magnus, Gino. Gino, Magnus,” “Nice to meet you, mister,” He held out his hand eagerly. Magnus shook it but was looking around the room confused. “What is this place?” “il santuario dal sole,” Gino said. “It was for vampires at first but (Y/N) took us all. il nostro custode” He grinned. Magnus raised an eyebrow, “What are you?” he asked. “What are any of us?” Gino scoffed, “You spend too much time with the fae. (Y/N)’s like us,” The three warlocks stood in silence. “Gino,” (Y/N) broke it. “It’s dinner times. Go get the wine,” Gino nodded, running off without the candle even flickering. Magic, Magnus realized, “You’re welcome to stay,” (Y/N) went to walk away but he caught her wrist. “What is this place? Really?” With a sigh (Y/N) looked over the room. There were at least 16 candles some with multiple people around them, “Home. For too many of us. Venice was a chance for us, but chances die hard. And we got trapped. Money got tight. And now we sleep in an abandoned theatre.” “You used to-“ “-Have status? Money?” (Y/N) cut him off. “Like I said. Chances die hard. I took the wrong one. The money I have goes to bribery and candles. The food is stolen. The wine is stolen. Their futures are stolen. So, we feast on others bread and wine,” This time (Y/N) did walk away. The next morning Magnus was gone and the Downworlders were awoken with the flood of light. The curtains had been opened. “They're here!” someone yelled. All the Downworlders began to run, panicking. The quickest exit was through the stage but there was a man on it. “This place could do with a bit of a clean,” Magnus said, looking over the theatre. “What are you doing here?” (Y/N) asked, walking onto the stage. “I bought this place,” “You’re evicting us,” (Y/N) crossed their arms. “Not quite,” Magnus pulled paper from his pocket. “The deed to this place. All paid for. The food will be delivered at noon. Though I might organize a decorator,” (Y/N) took the deed Magnus held out to them, “Your giving us this place? Why?” “Some chances pay off,” What he did was incredibly stupid. Completely idiotic. But Magnus had money and too much of it. upon reflection, he saw himself as a bit of a Gatsby. Everything to do with (Y/N) was a chance. Their meeting, the theatre, their first kiss when neither knew what the other thought. Everything. It was nearly always a good outcome and the bad ones were only so bad. But now Magnus felt what (Y/N) had in that run-down theatre. But worse. “Chances die hard,” Magnus murmured into his coffee cup.

When the shadowhunters got no call from Magnus they weren’t surprised. They had other cases, other missions, but Isabelle made it a point that they’d meet to discuss (Y/N). or as the clave saw it, the K7238 file. “We either look into people or location. Both too much of a stretch of clave resources. They’ll want to know why we're so invested and take over the case,” Isabelle said. She’d took the head on the case and sat at the top of the table. “But won't they have more resources?” Clary asked. The rest laughed. “The clave doesn’t exactly, how to say, care about Downworlders,” Jace said as gently as he could. Alec rolled his eyes. not only should she have realized this, but Jace also shouldn’t sugar coat it, “People would be better. theirs too many locations and witnesses won’t remember by now.” Isabelle nodded, “Okay so we’ve got ‘horns’,” as Jace put it suspects are more fun with nicknames, “And a bunch of Randoms. No ones come up in the system for purple skin and horns though,” “A demon?” Jace suggested. “Maybe,” Isabelle sighed, “It’s like we're missing something. Why would (Y/N) be with a demon?” “Kidnap?” “Spell?” “Secretly evil?” “Anyone got any other ideas?” Isabelle asked. The table was silent. “Maybe (Y/N) wanted a fresh start,” Clary suggested. “Without Magnus?” Alec rolled his eyes, “Did you see how Magnus was?” “But what about how (Y/N) was?” She pressed, “Maybe they wanted out. Or maybe this guy convinced them. Like a friend. I know if Simon had to get away I’d be the first to follow,” “So maybe this guy's also a victim?” Jace asked. “Yeah. Maybe someone on the case ran them out. If shadowhunters do hate Downworlders,” “We don’t,” Alec butted in, “Not all of us,” Isabelle stood up and walked over to the makeshift board she’d made on her wall for the case. It was inspired by the ones in movies Simon watched and was surprisingly useful. “Okay, so we look at the shadowhunters on the case. We’ve got Jadehurst, Cadleact, and Wasper. None are too fond of Downworlders,” “In fairness, not many were back then,” Jace said. “True. But they're not exactly going to talk to us,” Isabelle said as she wrote their names under suspects. Clary went to speak but Alec glared. Jace glared at Alec, “Go ahead Clary,” “Couldn’t we just ask about the original case. Say paperwork got lost and we need to fill in some blanks,” They thought about it, “That would…work. Yeah, good one Clary,” Isabelle said. Alec sulked, “Okay so tomorrow Clary and Jace go talk to as many of them as you can. They're all currently in Idris so that’s not to bad. Alec, you’ll go to Magnus. Check on him and that but you need to find out more about (Y/N). friends, history, enemies. That sort of stuff,” All nodded at their tasks, “What about you?” Jace asked, “Day off?” Isabelle kissed her teeth and put her hands on her hips, “I will be going through the photos and back search all the people to see if they're on file,” “Did that search on Marvin’s books come back yet?” Jace asked. “Tomorrow. Probably by around noon. Everyone clear on tomorrow?” they nodded. “Great. Now get out. Simon loaned me his laptop and Netflix so don’t disturb me,”

Part four

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ambivalentangst · 6 years ago

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When to Give (More)

A day late but!!!! Here with my piece for the @klancepoetryexchange, I have a fic inspired by A Question by Robert Frost, for @kittymeow321. It’s been a pleasure creating for this event, and I hope you enjoy!

A voice said, Look me in the stars

And tell me truly, men of earth,

If all the soul-and-body scars

Were not too much to pay for birth.

tw: heavy mention of self sacrifice and near death experiences

Lance and Keith have a nasty little habit of throwing themselves in harm’s way. They have a habit of gritting their eyes and shoving a teammate away to take the blow meant for them, and as those wounds have come to turn stretches of skin into leathery scars, they smile anyway because their team is safe.

Veronica comments on it, seeing her brother heading for the beach on a rare day off after evicting the Galra from Earth. His back is a mottled, pale mess. “Hermano,” she hisses, pulling him aside when his team isn’t watching. They all have scars, faint little nicks and tallies of days they’ve lived to tell the tale of their victory, but none like that. “What’s your back from? Why didn’t you tell any of us about it?” He’d had time, certainly, more than enough time in the hospital after he nearly died yet again.

Lance merely shrugs. “Coran was going to get hurt. I had to do something about it,” he tells her in that simple way of his, head snapping back around to stare at Pidge as she cackles something crude from the waves. Veronica watches him go, teeth gritted together and brow furrowed in concern because she can’t help but feel like she’s just missed something important. She knows just as well as anybody about the merits of sacrificing for the team, but there’s a fault lying in Lance’s shiny flash of a grin—a grin that, if she remembers correctly, used to be brighter—as he runs to tackle his teammate into the surf. Try as she might, Veronica can’t seem to find it and is left with nothing but the memory of her brother without a lion, ready to meet his maker.

Krolia pretends that she doesn’t notice, is completely oblivious to the way her son’s fingers are too tight—strained—around the controls of his fighter. There is a fear there she’s yet to uncover, and attempts to do so with subtle prods at his team, as her status as a Blade leaves her prone to do. She is met only with the occasional confused stare or bewildered silence over the comms, that she knows they chalk up to her not knowing their patterns as a team. She does not divulge that she has spent her every waking moment memorizing the people who she will inevitably have to entrust Keith to, being sure to correct any flaws she sees in her eagerness to remedy the cracks running through them.

In the cave, with her leader, she smiles at him and lets their time together keep her from shedding a single, undignified tear until they’re far away and Kolivan is fast asleep. Even with all that Keith has grown, she knows there are gaps in him that she’s unable to fill. She merely hopes that someone, anyone, can. If not, she hopes they can keep them from growing wider.

And Lance should be able to.

Keith, as leader, has tried very hard to know his team. To read when they can carry out a mission without a hitch, and when they’re seconds away from falling down a hole far too treacherous for Keith to dig them back out of.

Lance, in particular, he’s kept his eye on. He asks him on Earth, once, if everything’s alright. There’s good reason for the question; when Lance thinks nobody’s watching, his face will fall and his nails dig into his palms with force just shy of enough to draw blood. Lance snaps back to normal with blinding speed. Keith can only blink in surprise as Lance nods. “Course. You know me, mullet, ready for anything the universe decides to throw at us.”

When Keith isn’t happy, he shows it. He closes himself off and uses everything he has to scream comfort away. Usually, it works, with the exception of Shiro. Lance, on the other hand, is a clam with a pearl of hurt he’s desperate to hide, and every time Keith comes knocking, he closes up even tighter. He nods, pretending that Lance has him fooled. “As long as you’re good,” he says casually, and when they talk about their strategy for their next mission, doesn’t make mention of the tightness of Lance’s eyes. In turn, Lance doesn’t mention what Matt confessed to him once, after everybody else had long gone to bed and the two of them were left around the table, reeling from Nacxela.

“Keith, he—he was going to give himself up. He was ready, Lance. If Lotor hadn’t—” Matt had shaken his head. “We’d be down one more man in the fight.”

Lance had lain awake in his bed then, staring up at the ceiling and wondering why, when he thought of making the same sacrifice as Keith, he didn’t mind it so much on him. When had he stopped caring?

Lance hopes, sincerely hopes, that Keith wouldn’t do that again, but he never brings it up again because how can he? He’s such a hypocrite, really.

Keith can only ask himself the same.

One might think they’d break individually. A chip here, a crack there. When one blow after another meant for someone else turns into nightmares that aren’t calmed as easily as they used to be. It’s almost cruel in its irony though, how in sync they’ve always been. Tit for tat, them.

They’re back out in the universe, answering the distress signal of a planet a good few systems away when it happens. An explosion rocks the lions, sends the both of them down for a good few minutes.

They come to eventually, and the battle is hard won.

For Lance, there’s the memory of something almost like a friend floating in front of them, and then searing blackness that ends days later as he stumbles out of a pod. For Keith, there’s the weight of a thousand cuts when all he wants is Shiro.

They meet that night.

Both of them are fresh out of the Garrison med bay, skin like ash and the taste of what had almost been flaky in their mouths. It’s almost eery, the way Lance’s hand slots into Keith’s like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and yet there’s no emotion accompanying the action. It’s all empty, meaningless.

They walk to Lance’s room, sit on his floor and stare at each other, a thousand unsaid almosts hanging between them.

“I can’t do this,” Keith whispers first. Lance—never still, never motionless—has his fingers drumming lightly on his thigh.

“Yeah?” he murmurs. The utterance is neither approval nor condemnation.

It’s a nice thing that Keith can’t be bothered asking for either. He doesn’t even respond.

“You never realize how close death is until it won’t leave you alone. I thought I was okay with that, as long as everyone was safe.” Lance sighs. His fingers haven’t stopped moving. A pause. “You think we’d be better at this whole heart to heart thing. I mean, it’s not like we’re hiding how hard it is to care when you think you’re helping the team.”

Keith huffs a laugh that smacks of fire and their fellow paladins screaming through the comms. A beat.

“What do you think the Garrison will say?”

It’s like that, drained and so fucking tired of the constant fear and wondering which goodbye will be the last, that Keith doesn’t even have to ask for him to clarify. “They’ll be mad. Yell at us about it.”

Lance nods.

It’s so weird, how not caring turns into the only thing that matters being the not caring, and then everything starts to matter so much. It’s so weird how death gets a wave and a slap on the back when it passes by, but when it arrives with purpose, that’s something to fear.

“Haven’t we done enough yet?” Lance asks, standing like the conversation’s over now that the unsaid decision is mostly said. He takes his shirt off and strips down to his boxers, not bothering with any of his skincare as he crosses to the bed and rubs his hands over his eyes.

Keith follows his lead but keeps his top on. Lance holds up the covers for him to slip under.

It’s not the first time they’ve done this, exactly, but before it’s always been with a kiss and some kind of lightness between them. Holding onto each other’s shoulders as the lights flick off just feels like it’s all there’s left to do now.

The discussion doesn’t stop. “It’ll never be enough. There’s always another battle to fight,” Keith responds, voice lacking inflection.

Lance nods. “Wanna’ ignore the alarm?”

Keith shrugs. “Shiro’ll be mad.”

Before, that might’ve meant no. Lance sighs, closing his eyes and ignoring the tickle of Keith’s hair on his cheek. It’s gotten shaggier since being with Krolia. Keith thinks of what his mother would say should she know that he has so little left to give now.

“I’m glad you’re with me tonight,” Lance says. Keith smiles from above his head. There’s a little flicker of love in that, but to feel it in full force is too exhausting. A little love is good. Between the two of them, a little means there’s at least some semblance of realization when it’s too much. That’s important to them right now.

“Me too,” Keith responds.

They’re tired, and the sound of their heartbeats together is a perfect lullaby. Tomorrow will be a beast, surely, telling the Garrison that they can’t keep going, that they need a break. Just for now though, in the space between heartbeats, it’s okay to pretend like nothing is waiting for them in the morning.

#klance poetry exchange #keith #lance #klance #langst #ambi exchanges #ambivalentlangst

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badmousestuff-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The problem with Free Speech (Script)

One day I was helping out with the Free Palestine stall on Church Street. About an hour in a young dude came up to me, and gave us the usual conservative drivel.

He told me that he couldn’t support the left, because to him we were against free speech. Right below me were flyers detailing the extent of Israeli war crimes against Palestinians, and how little the world still hears about their plight. He stated that he wasn’t interested in our campaign, and bid me farewell. For, of course we must have our standards.

(Rowan Atkinson speech)

There’s never been a more unshakeable dogma in my lifetime than that of Freedom of Speech.

The real test of a country’s standards is if it allows people to criticise one another, especially the regime. The foundation of Liberty and Freedom and Friberty, is the story of free expression, after all, if you want to know who has the power, just look at which group you’re not allowed to criticise. Right?

Well no, I’m here to say that Free Speech isn’t just some base, flatline, monolith from which all societies are to be judged like an angelical truth, its a political concept, thought up by human beings, subject to critique, and frankly is in great need of one.

Let’s start with something simple.

Your concept that Free Speech is good, is only possible if your opponent also agrees with you, i.e. they’re not going to kill you if you disagree.

So therefore if your opponent doesn’t ?? and will use aggression against you, then you can’t really argue for free speech can you?

The conditions around you need to be such that nobody is going to die.

Right, whats next, oh I gotta do the Hitler bit, right…

Y’know the story, Weiner Republic, Full suffrage, large democracy, massive instability and debt caused from the prior war, enter the Nazis, and the German Communist party. Yes everyone seems to forget that the Commies were there too, headed by Ernst Thalmann, and at their peak gained 16% of the vote in 1932. Whilst Ernst was forward in his Anti-Fascism, the Social Democrats, and their newspapers, didn’t seem to understand the concept of a united front, they refused to confront the Fascists in an effective manner and simultaneously denounced the KDP as being a bunch of Muscovites, sporting the famous Iron Front symbol, The third arrow originally meant Anti-Communism, mind.

The SPD’s failure to effectively confront Fascism aided Hitler’s rise to power, sent the KDP underground, and Ernst to 11 years in the hole, followed by a firing squad.

So don’t tell me free-speech exists in vacuum, it doesn’t. In this video we’ll ask the necessary further questions.

Who dictates the media, who controls which advertisements we see, which views are more profitable? Does the removal of speech in given scenarios serve a common good? And if the enlightenment was correct why did Liberalism fail in its mission?

(Rowan Atkinson)

This clip was one of the first main intro points for me as well as many others into the realm of Super Free Speech, and it’s strange looking back just how dated it is. It’s not like we didn’t have the arguments back then, but moreso that nobody really cared, we were all swept up in the dogma, to challenge free speech would be on the same level as strangling a baby.

Anybody can go around today and talk about the joy of free speech, but it means nothing to a person who has no power with that speech, Freedom to Beg? That's not a freedom; that’s institutionalised sadism.

I’m not a believer in Maslow’s hierarchy but hypothetically, this really wouldn’t go number 2, it’d be right down at number… 27. Why do I say this? Well in the words of some philosophy guy people say I look like, “No rights matter if you’re dead”.

Food, Water, Healthcare, and Housing. These are all things you need in order to survive, in other words fulfil the other things that we consider ‘rights’ - rights that are worth struggling for. And despite the fact that the millions end up dying from the lack of these rights, even when they’re universally agreed upon, ever notice how this struggle goes very very quiet… Suspiciously quiet.

Sargon on the Socialists

I wonder…??? I wonder why the left seems to be largely committed to these causes, it’s something you find scantly addressed in the middle and right spheres with the exception of private individual charity (OSCAR WILDE), and Carl may find himself wondering why it is that these ideologies can barely create a solid solidarity towards these topics.

You might be a Liberal and say “Yeah yeah, I support that too though” but fact remains there’s no confidence here.

I see no outpouring of condemnation coming from you when Politicians like Bolsonaro press forward their restrictive measures, unlike what you have to say about this powerless Redhead. Why is that?

Count Dankula, who interestingly I had a couple scuffles with a while back without realising it, last year taught his dog to do a Hitler Salute, and he got fined £800. Now that’s probably one of the most petty excuses for a sentencing I’ll admit, but again this isn’t about whether it was justified, it’s about people’s standards.

Dankula received enormous support from, well, everyone, and he’s now more famous than he ever previously was, enough to be at the forefront of the free-speech festival later that year, and even use his fame to help push the emergence of UKIP. This is attention that people would pay top dollar for, way more than £800. He should be proud that he got a court hearing.

Frankly, me and my colleagues didn’t really care about this whole thing too much, just ask my IWW friend who I was with when this all went down. What happened around the same time that did catch some of our attention though was the plight of the J20 protesters who got arrested back during Trump’s inauguration.

Some of these people are on the butchers list to serve 60 year sentences for standing against a president who’s, a real dick, like I get the whole Liberal opposition is fucking corny but still he’s a dick, they’ve all been dicks, he’s just continuing what every dick who ever stood on centre stage ever started, this is America, you think Bernie’s going to save you? You think reforming the democrats can change the number one imperialist power?

Apologies. If you’re at all concerned that I didn’t give a toss about Dankula’s pug joke, if you’ve ever had friends like him this stuff isn’t too surprising, I know these are highly political times but a guy who votes UKIP is really not our number one concern right now.

I didn’t give a toss, but I know somebody who did, Mike Stuchbury, who you’ll remember from his childish twitter ramblings and dealings with Watson. Who proclaimed that the left needs to stand with Free Speech, A free-speech that is largely in the teat of Right-leaning discourse.

Sargon who was there with him, earlier that year got de-platformed by lefty-liberals in his debate with Muke.

The dogma is enforcing itself here, the left is all supposed to throw up our hands in swich liquor, of which vertu engendered is the flour, and decide Whether we should allow freedom of speech to our enemies, or not allow it, when the actual thing we should be doing, is taking hold of the narrative and putting forward our own ideas as the new talking point of discussion, instead of fucking Nazi Pug.

“Hey, you, what gives you the right to determine the narrative?”

Thats a good question, the hegemonic propaganda of our status quo is already setting the narrative, Noam Chomsky “I’m bored bye”

How can I make this more interesting… Ah ha…

IT’S TIME FOR FILM THEORY!!1 WOOOO

The Pursuit of Happiness.

In 2006 Will Smith told the story of Chris Gardner, a black man who struggled through poverty, separation, and fatherhood whilst living in San Francisco.

He gets an internship with a sales company and despite having to put up with a lot, by the end of the film he passes and at this point, we’re supposed to feel happy and redeemed, but to those who’ve watched it (surely I’m not alone) was it really a happy ending?

I’ll say that I walked out of the viewing feeling very uncomfortable and sour, but why is that?

Well for starters, that Internship he got was a 6 month unpaid one, in the most expensive US city might have something to do with it.

Then he’s got to deal with his wife leaving him, then he’s got to take care of his son, then he loses his source of income, then he’s got to deal with eviction, sleeping rough, not sleeping at all, by the end of the movie sure he gets his redemption but the message of ‘when life gives you lemons, just keep getting pummelled with those lemons and don’t ask why’ ultimately seems hollow.

Contrast that a more traditionally Anti-establishment film which was made by a literal Communist, where the exploiters are treated as they should be and thats what comes across on screen, with surprise horse-dick, and while Happiness doesn’t treat them like saints, they sure don’t come across as devils either.

6 months of free labour he and 19 other people who did not make the cut that they are effectively giving away for free.

What about those other 19 people, who ever tells their story?

The way his superiors always act like total dicks pushing him around and getting him to be their lobby boy, they lost nothing. And now he’s going to work for them.

Is the message here supposed to be “Well if this guy can survive the moon falling on him, what the hell are you complaining about?” Actually yeah, I think that consciously or not, this is what’s being said… Don’t worry we’re getting to the point of all this.

The extent of exploitation is naked, yet in the way the movie is presented I’m inclined to agree to this, and take it into my home, and sleep with it.

Now name me as many pieces of media that regurgitate this same old theme of rags to riches through adversity, to look at the man on centre stage, yet pay no attention to the millions locked in a cage.

Sure, say it how you will, Art is merely what you make of it and there’s not necessarily any devious agenda being pursued at any time. That’s one perspective I guess, another might be that there’s no such thing as Art for Arts sake, it all gears itself to differing political lines.

In a society based on private, individual enterprise, it's no surprise that Art would also foster themes that would support society as the normal and natural, even if they appear on the surface as radical.

Case in point, well the entire Hollywood Catalog.

On the Waterfront is literally Mccarthyism on celluloid, The People vs Larry Flynt guises pornification and billionairedom with a story of libel and freedom of speech.

And ironically enough probably the worst offender is, well I’m gonna lose some of you now, Billy Elliot, the Movie.

In which 2/3rds of the way through Billy’s dad strike breaks as a way to pay for his son to go to a prestigious arts school, y’know rather than maybe having him stay and use his skills to improve, embolden and enliven the downtrodden community, rather than leaving it to die.

Jackie’s very sympathetic in his devotion towards his son, except Striking is caring for your family, you’re fighting for a better future, together, as one, and it’s thrown away in favour of a much more individualistic get out of your circumstances, go and live your dream.

Now I’ve read Lee Hall, I know he didn’t intend for this to come through, but he is also no more aloof than any of us, we’re all susceptible to this ‘Common Culture’.

Just see the way our ‘Common Culture’ infiltrates into how Communism is talked about, in 2015’s Trumbo. The Hollywood screenwriter who was blacklisted for 2 decades for being a member of Communist Party.

Could make for some groundbreaking stuff right?...

Well no, instead we’re left with a film that focuses entirely on freedom of expression, which is ironic because if they represented him truthfully it would’ve resulted in a much more nuanced movie.

All we get is a 2 minute scene talking about Communist ethics and god its done in the most sanitised, unradical, storybook tale way possible, that doesn’t in any possible regard represent who the actual Dalton Trumbo was.

“If a book or play or film is produced which is harmful to the best interests of the working class, that work and its author should and must be attacked in the sharpest possible terms.”

I think I have a case that profit incentives are steering the way in which media is presented…

We have no problem pointing out the subtle propaganda messages in Soviet children’s cartoons (Cheburashka) but reverse that onto our society, prepare for some awkward stares.

You may argue that none of what I’ve just spoken about here has anything to do with censorship of free expression but this is the problem, our notions of censorship are stuck firmly behind the Berlin wall, and thats far too simplistic not to mention outdated.

Undoubtably Coca-cola has a far greater reach of expression than I ever will be able to ascertain, what says who can speak on a public forum, decide the content of a documentary, of a publication, of a movie, or a political campaign?

If a book is blacklisted by all publishers for political reasons, what difference does it make having 1 publishing house or 100?

If 90% of the movie market alone is controlled by just 7 companies, what kind of advice is “Just start your own business”.

If we want to talk about the free flow of expression and information, what little are these flyers (Free Palestine) when Zionism has a whole nation, and 2 continents supporting it?

This is the kind of expression we’re dealing with today, not the voices of individuals, but of multinationals. The fact that we had in any way an outpouring of sympathies towards one of these companies, Sony, for having their movie The Interview possibly censored by DPRK agents is a testament to how lost in the plot we have become.

And if by chance the media cannot direct the status quo by monopoly, it brings out its tried and tested method.

Commodify it.

I present to you Guerrillero Heroico, this photograph was allowed such free spread not simply because its bloody badass, but because there was no IP designated upon it, by Korda’s intention as a Communist himself he agreed with the free-flow of art. And what did this result in at the behest of Capitalist Corporations? The pastiche of revolution, to be bought and sold many times over.

Take any form of media, word, an expression, it will be hoisted away, slapped on a shirt, and sold back to you at a handsome price. You cannot escape this.

The moment that this (my tattoo) becomes the new Che it loses all its power, resistance is reduced to at worst LARPing, at best Nerd Fandom, and the winners are the profiteers.

If profit is the aim of the game, the speech that is supported will inevitably favour that which nurtures the economy, not destroys it, unless in farce. Speech ain’t a level base of which a country is determined by, its an apparatus held by those that dictate the game.

This is why there is a necessity for us to control the narrative, control the message, because if we don’t, they’re still going to.

Obligations:

When armies with unequal numbers go into battle, a draw is a defeat for the lesser side.

Make believe it or not Radical Centrist politics have their political leanings as well, even if just by effect.

Look I like free speech, I love it, I’m a goddamn youtuber, but I’m not stupid, I know what’s coming, I know that groups would try and silence me if they could. That’s politics.

You might go “All we’re talking about is the legal sphere”. Firstly the legal is the political, pure ideology to say otherwise, but second it’s difficult for you to call yourself a fighter for free speech when as I’ve explained there’s sooo much more to it than simply the judicial.

Many proponents will even side-step the judicial boundaries anyway when monopoly becomes involved, and if I have to explain how Monopoly is not an externality of our system but an inherent part of accumulation then… sigh.

Strange how we’re usually all skeptical of an Economic Free Market but the Free marketplace of ideas unlocks your inner Libertarian.

Its when I see stuff like this that I begin wondering if this is all just a trend that will eventually die off when people realise the complexities of their circumstances. I remember just a few years ago how many Libertarians were speaking the merits of free speech until they discovered that methodological individualism wasn’t actually achieving their goals. I count down the days when Lauren Southern finally calls for limits on speech just like her limits on borders. After all freedom is not free it must be defended right?

And btw folks usually aren’t as brave to actively advocate limits so they’ll always present justifications, such as that these views are mental disorders, or they’ll destroy civilisation, or these people are Degenerates.

This is a historic moment in political discourse, at this point ultimately we’re interested in picking sides, and you’ll do this just as much as anyone will.

On the left we like to talk a lot about Left Unity. I’m not necessarily against the idea, but a lot of the time people make a religion out of it, glossing over the fact that many aspects of various factions (???) contradict. It might not be immediately obvious, but when push comes to shove these conflicts become very apparent. There are some principles in which each side certainly doesn’t see eye to eye.

“Politics is pervasive, everything is political and the choice to remain apolitical is usually just an endorsement of the status quo”

If it wasn’t obvious, I’m a Communist, yeah yeah say what you want, I believe in the liberation of those who do all the work through armed struggle based upon material conditions. I’m going to therefore be in favour of real mass culture, the stuff that gets people focused on achieving liberating aims instead of just appealing to markets. Its for this reason that I’m not interested in defending the views of right-wing nationalists, fascists, reactionaries… my enemies in other words, the ideas largely speaking which regress the people and they’re not interested in defending me either, wouldn’t expect them to.

If all you’re talking about is the centre, you’re gonna get flanked, sorry.

You might bump in when I denounce Dankula stating “His punishment showcases the system is at fault” and I would agree. This system is at fault, its been at fault since before our constitution was written, and it’ll never stop being at fault until you solve the contradictions.

Liberalism did fail, its ideals never came to fruition and that’s the reason why Socialists bring forth the praxis to achieve it, sometimes that’ll involve using words, sometimes it’ll involve lots and lots of guns, but let me tell you, you can’t always fight a war by playing nice, sometimes you have to use a diversity of tactics to achieve it.

Maybe we need 11 of them? (Shows book)

But thats more of a material answer and I know that most you don’t give a crap about some dead Chinese guy., but getting back to the original idea about responsibilities behind our speech, well, here’s something to think about.

So… here goes nothing.

If you’re a straight white male aged 11-16 in the UK and weren’t brought up to fit into the standard male dynamic, chances are you got picked on, sometimes a lot, sometimes that’s every day, not necessarily violence but words from numerous mouths are highly unnerving.

I did not have a particularly fun time adolescence. Every day was horrible, I never had a feeling going in that this would be exciting or, this would be a day where things would be different, everyday was a total black smudge with no end in sight.

Unlike other people, I never got to have a group that I fit into, so I had no escape, nothing to take my mind off things.

Looking back I don’t know why I bothered going in, I wasn’t getting amazing grades anyway.

When I went to Drama school and other clubs on the weekends and after school, I would also get picked on, but it wasn’t in spite, it was just general, friendly teasing. But there wasn’t a difference in my mind, because when you’ve had to deal with so much constant abuse, and paranoia, and humiliation 30 hours a week, it fucks you up.

So when Id say to the weekend buds “I dont like this” theyd go “Oh come on man its just a bit of fun, its okay, dont worry about it, its just a joke, its all okay”

Back then I didn’t have the nerve, I just put up with it, but if I could go back, Id say. No, actually its not Okay, because you don’t know for the life of me how much I have had to deal with this shit, to me that doesn’t come across like you’re being funny, like your laughing with me, it comes across like you’re a psychopath who wants to get pleasure out of my misfortune.

Of course the response to this would be obvious “Well what am I supposed to do? Just talk to you like a robot. You should just get over it, leave it in the past. Your making it harder for everyone” or some other faux-victimised response.

And sometimes y’know they might be right, maybe I should’ve not made worse a bad situation, but fact remains I still bleed.

To you, this is just having fun and games, to you and your other friends its normal, but to me its a threat.

Now today you can call me what you want I don’t care, I’m out of that place now and I’m all the better for it,

But even though some 7 or 8 years since then I’ve been able to recover, I still carry a hangover of it all, and it affected my decisions later on in life sometimes to a dire extent,

Its had the effect of making me feel both distrustful of people, and also like Im a burden to be around other people,

I never feel I should hang around for too long, I never want to take chances in friendship for fear I’ll embarrass myself, I say one thing out of tempo and suddenly flashbacks and an enormous shadow of mordor conjures over me. And I think most of all its been very difficult for me to express my emotions because I used to do it a hell of a lot.

Those 5 years were the single handed worst years of my life. And if you were at any point responsible for adding to that devastation and humiliation, then a large part of me wants to lash your goddamn skull inside out.

Because as trivial and generic as my story may be, that part of my life has been stolen from me, and those 5 years I will never get back.

So what’s the point of all this?

“Ossidents are sometimes surprised that, instead of buying a dress for their wife, the colonized buy a transistor radio. They shouldn't be, the colonized are convinced their fate is in the balance. They live in a doomsday atmosphere and nothing must elude them”

I want you to place the relatively minor experiences I received as a child, and translate those into other groups, victims of domestic abuse, victims of colonialism, racism, sexism, queer phobia. Like I said I’m out of that place now, but others aren’t, for many people they still live day to day in this ever pressing struggle, trying to just tell people “Please, just don’t do this”.

It’s not okay. But maybe together you’ll help me out with solving these problems?

My conclusion to this is simple,

Free Speech is not just something you can fling around to score political points, it doesn’t materialise simply because we all decide it should. If we want free-speech we need to break a few eggs to make an omelette.

We need to be sure that the conditions in society don’t proliferate toxic ideas that might even lead to the downfall of said society.

This very Tattoo that 90 years ago would’ve been Anti-Communist as hell has become a Pan-Left symbol against Fascism. Its living proof that with the correct methods the conditions of words, symbols, ideas can be resolved.

When class struggle subsides, when our social divides have been solved, when the conflict doesn’t oppose the existence of certain folks, then maybe, we can well and truly say that we can have free speech, and we’ll stand at a comedy show and yell “Yes, lets talk about those BEEP BEEEEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP” and be met with cheering applause from all sides. But until then, Don’t be a dick.

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theculturedmarxist · 6 years ago

Text

And in the distance there echoes a cry, “free baby market!”

Reading Ancap literature is utterly tiresome. Just imagine take after take of the worst takes you’ve ever heard.

YOU’VE

EVER

HEARD

I was specifically looking for a quote from Murray Rothbard for someone, and had the misfortune of first stumbling across this. “Libertarians for Life.” Oh, this oughta be good.

[beneath the cut because long; emphasis mine]

----

Dr. Rothbard holds that parents have the right to abandon their children at any time, regardless of the consequences. So also, he insists that abortion is a right. The difference between Dr. Rothbard and some other "pro-choicers" is that he is quite willing to concede (if only for the purpose of discussion) that the preborn are persons. He makes it quite clear that his arguments apply equally well to the preborn, infants, and all children.

The chain of reasons by which Dr. Rothbard arrives at his conclusions is relatively simple. We are necessarily self-owners. Our will is absolutely inalienable. You could not sell yourself into slavery, for instance, because being a slave would entail the surrender of your will. So also even in more customary contract situations, you can not agree to do something in the future because what if you changed your mind and didn't want to do it any longer? To be compelled to perform the service would be an alienation of your will -- and, as such, an intolerable injustice. So parents have the right to abandon children because we all have the right to abandon anything that requires our continued labor.

Dr. Rothbard agrees that we can owe money or property. Such things can be alienated from us. But labor, services, the exercise of will, no. Dr. Rothbard's position on abandonment, then is an unavoidable conclusion of his most fundamental premises. Abortion is merely a case of abandonment: "eviction." If the child's death results, that is immaterial.

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Ain’t no lad wew enough.

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It is far more comfortable and popular to provide a window-dressing justification and ignore the question of inconvenient little facts in the real world.

---

lol, but wait, there’s more.

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Dr. Rothbard's way out of this dilemma (which he never seems to confront openly) is to assume that if you don't own yourself, then the only alternative is that it must be at least possible for someone else to own you.That's impossible, though. So you must own yourself. His assumption dodges the fundamental question, however: are persons the sort of thing that can be owned? By anyone? Are they accessible to becoming property? Are you your property or are you just you?

The answer of traditional philosophy (which elsewhere Dr. Rothbard can discuss very well) is that it is sheer nonsense to apply the notion of "property" to persons. "Ownership" doesn't apply to persons -- it presupposes them.

He may be reluctant to take such a stand, however, because all the foregoing to the contrary notwithstanding, he insists there are persons who can be owned. They're children.

"A new-born baby cannot be an existent self-owner in any sense. Therefore, either the mother or some other party may be the baby's owner...." He does state, though that this "parental ownership is not absolute but of a 'trustee' or guardianship kind"; it's limited in time and in kind, so that parents couldn't own their children forever, and couldn't murder or torture them. But trusteeship isn't ownership and guardianship isn't ownership in any sense of the word. How this notion of "ownership" squares with the words we have to use in ordinary conversation, Dr. Rothbard does not address.

---

But he is absolutely correct in one element that he regards as crucial: that we can not alienate our wills, our selves. Even if we sell ourselves into slavery and do all our master asks, we do it because we will it. We are stuck with being choosing beings; and ultimately only death can free us from that state. (That, in fact, is why the idea of ownership can't apply to persons.)

But the fact that we can not alienate our selves does not mean that we cannot "alienate" our individual decisions. We do it every day. We do things we don't want to, whether we have obligations to do so or not.

---

I can’t imagine what this is supposed to mean. Apparently, one cannot alienate their self in any regard. Even if we’re slaves, we’re slaves because we want to be. Presumably this means that if we didn’t really enjoy slavery very much, we either could or should just decide to escape. Alright, fine. But in the very next breath we find that “our individual decisions” may be alienated. That however contradicts our established rule that a person cannot be alienated from their “selves” or “wills.”

If we imagine such an ancap figure, he is possessed of himself, and acts on whatever he decides he wants to do. Even if he were a slave, he would decide whether or not to obey, and if so then whether to do a good job or a bad one, etc. What else is this but themselves acting in accordance with their will by making a series of individual decisions? This is just nonsense.

Next I read some of the the man himself, Murray Rothbard’s “work.” It’s a treat.

---

Even from birth, the parental ownership is not absolute but of a "trustee" or guardianship kind. In short, every baby as soon as it is born and is therefore no longer contained within his mother's body possesses the right of self-ownership by virtue of being a separate entity and a potential adult. It must therefore be illegal and a violation of the child's rights for a parent to aggress against his person by mutilating, torturing, murdering him, etc. On the other hand, the very concept of "rights" is a "negative" one, demarcating the areas of a person's action that no man may properly interfere with. No man can therefore have a "right" to compel someone to do a positive act, for in that case the compulsion violates the right of person or property of the individual being coerced. Thus, we may say that a man has a right to his property (i.e., a right not to have his property invaded), but we cannot say that anyone has a "right" to a "living wage," for that would mean that someone would be coerced into providing him with such a wage, and that would violate the property rights of the people being coerced. As a corollary this means that, in the free society, no man may be saddled with the legal obligation to do anything for another, since that would invade the former's rights; the only legal obligation one man has to another is to respect the other man's rights.

Applying our theory to parents and children, this means that a parent does not have the right to aggress against his children, but also that the parent should not have a legal obligation to feed, clothe, or educate his children, since such obligations would entail positive acts coerced upon the parent and depriving the parent of his rights. The parent therefore may not murder or mutilate his child, and the law properly outlaws a parent from doing so. But the parent should have the legal right not to feed the child, i.e., to allow it to die.2 The law, therefore, may not properly compel the parent to feed a child or to keep it alive.3 (Again, whether or not a parent has a moral rather than a legally enforceable obligation to keep his child alive is a completely separate question.) This rule allows us to solve such vexing questions as: should a parent have the right to allow a deformed baby to die (e.g., by not feeding it)?4 The answer is of course yes, following a fortiori from the larger right to allow any baby, whether deformed or not, to die. (Though, as we shall see below, in a libertarian society the existence of a free baby market will bring such "neglect" down to a minimum.)

---

But hold on, it gets better.

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Our theory also enables us to examine the question of Dr. Kenneth Edelin, of Boston City Hospital, who was convicted in 1975 of manslaughter for allowing a fetus to die (at the wish, of course, of the mother) after performing an abortion. If parents have the legal right to allow a baby to die, then a fortiori they have the same right for extra-uterine fetuses. Similarly, in a future world where babies may be born in extra-uterine devices ("test tubes"), again the parents would have the legal right to "pull the plug" on the fetuses or, rather, to refuse to pay to continue the plug in place.

---

Murray should have fired his editor. First we’re told that a baby, as soon as it is separated from its mother, is “a separate entity and potential adult,” and it must necessarily be illegal for the parent to violate the NAP. Sure, let them starve, just don’t kill them yourself. It’s completely arbitrary to say, well, no, a baby possesses self-ownership, and that it’s against the law to aggress against it, but a fetus (one which I presume was advanced enough to have been able to save) is fair game.

I mean, the whole thing’s a treat. Give it a read, it’s wild.

#anarchocapitalism #shit ideologies #american libertarians #murray rothbard #free baby market

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fox-household · 7 years ago

Text

Act 3: A Fellow Science Enthusiast, Chapter 1

Alright, here we are again, this one isn’t very long compared to how long it took to post this, also not to much happens action wise, so sorry about that. Anyway hope you enjoy the content, I’ll add links later because I am a tired individual. Also since I haven’t done this for a while, I figure I should add it again. Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters technically, they’re from AU’s I don’t own but they are also changed from they’re source, they only mimic the AU in backstory. Liberties have been taken for entertainment purposes as this is fan fiction basically and you can find the original non-changed and non-RP version of them by looking them up in google or something. FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT, INFO

The skeleton scratched the side of his head with a finger stressfully, he was feeling the fear rise, and flashing red lights weren’t helping. Warning signals everywhere trying to warn him of ‘’Danger Imminent’’, even appearing in large red letters on the small screen, flashing away. ‘’Damn it I already know, just let me think’’, his mind was feeling cluttered with all the background noises and images, he had to cool down the core of the device before it exploded. Dropping the device on the table near the window he ran over towards the couch in front of the TV, where lots of tools were scattered, some on the floor, some on the couch and some in the crevices between cushions. Without checking which of them he was picking up, he quickly put together three different screwdrivers in his hands and ran back to the device, which he could feel heating up as he picked it up. He turned the device over and quickly jammed one of the three screwdrivers in a screw, trying to twist but finding it had no grip as the screwdriver didn’t fit, ‘’C’mon!!’’ he yelled as he threw it away and tried again with the second one, but it was only a repeat and another one went flying. The skeleton’s breathing was getting faster as panic was taking over, ‘’This better be it’’. With a shaky hand he inserted the third screwdriver, a smile appearing as he got it to fit in and start turning. A few rushed turns later the screw fell out, and another and another until finally the back of the device came off, which he was thankful for as it’s weight was starting to take a toll on his weary bones. ‘’Alright, we’re close, just got to move this wire over there…’’, he spoke to himself as he pulled out a yellow wire and plugged it into a different socket, and then completely removed a green wire from its socket, and then suddenly all the red flashing and loud warning signs stop, he turned it over to find a black screen. The skeleton let out a nervous laugh as he relaxed slightly, ‘’Heh good thing th-‘’ Suddenly a quick succession of beeps came out of the device and his eyes widened, ‘’Oh sh-‘’. Then suddenly an explosion erupted, and the only sound that was heard was a BOOM and shattered glass.

‘’God damn it Sci, here we are again’’. The skeleton sighed, he was currently sitting in his landlord’s office at her desk, watching the rabbit monster pace back and forwards over and over again, ‘’Sorry Brenda, didn’t really expect that to happen you know?’’ Brenda gave a frustrated growl towards him, ‘’Yeah, you never do, always build first, worry about OH&S later, how the hell didn’t you see this coming with an explosion like that, you took out your whole apartment.’’ Sci scratched the back of his head nervously, looking guilty, it really didn’t help that his clothes and face were black from the smoke and ash, ‘’Well uh the device was just something simple I created, I didn’t even think it was capable of such um damage.’’ She suddenly gave him a very angry and intense stare that caused him to physically gulp, he never liked being up against this look, it never bode well for him. ‘’Oh really? You didn’t think it had the capability? What the fuck were you making?!’’ He looked nervous, ‘’Um well… perhaps a… toaster?’’ ‘’Sci you better not be screwing with me!’’ He shook his head now, ‘’N-no it’s true, but not an ordinary toaster, one that uses thirty different scanners and few… other things that connect directly to a screen to give you instantaneous feedback on how well it’s cooked so it would be perfect for whoever uses it.’’ Brenda raised an eye brow at him, watching his expression and noticing the slight hesitation which gave her a theory, ‘’You know, I may not look it, but I’m smarter than the average bear. There is no way you could’ve made an explosion that badly with a simple electrical device, what else did you put in there?’’ This caused some panic on the skeleton, ‘’Uh just some other things to make it regulate temperature, especially in the core of it all…’’. ‘’Let me guess, a bunch of chemicals that aren’t completely safe… you got them from the lab, didn’t you?’’ His sudden frozen look was all the confirmation she needed, ‘’You weren’t meant to take these specific ones, were you?’’ ‘’N-no I’m sorry, yeah I used some things I shouldn’t have… but it’ll be ok right?’’ With this Brenda went silent and sighed, almost twenty awkward seconds of silence passed, ‘’I’m sorry too Sci, but I’m going to have to evict you.’’ ‘’What?! But… you can’t do that.’’ She nodded and crossed her arms, her expression had grown a lot softer now, which almost worried him more. ‘’It’s the only way, you can’t keep this up.’’ ‘’But it’s never been this bad before, this was my first big major issue, right?’’ he said as a growing worry was showing his voice. ‘’That’s the problem, it’s only escalating, it could get so much worse.’’ ‘’Can’t the company just pay for this repair?’’ ‘’Yeah they will, but after this there is no way they’re going to keep funding your accommodation and even then your stunts are making me lose customers, I can’t afford going out of business’’, she sighed once more, and gave Sci a look, showing that she didn’t want to have to do this. ‘’Is there anyway I can make it up to you, one more way to get a last chance?’’, he said pleadingly. ‘’No…honestly Sci I like you, I like you quite a lot, you’ve helped out a ton with your expertise and you’re a good friend, which is why you’ve stayed this long… and also why I’m going to falsify the report to your workplace, so you can keep your damn job. But I can’t keep it going on like this, I’m sorry, I want you to understand it’s not easy for me to make a decision like this’’. Sci nodded in acceptance, she was right, this was actually going to happen, he’d stuffed it up and he was going to have to accept the consequences. ‘’I… I understand, sorry, I’ll get what’s left of my stuff tonight and leave.’’ ‘’Do you need any help, I’ve got some friends who might take you in temporarily?’’, but the skeleton shook his head and took out his phone. ‘’No, but thanks for the offer. I’ll be good from here’’, he offered her a kind smile, ‘’No hard feelings here’’. She shook her head with a faint smile, ‘’No hard feelings here either, just stay safe, one of these days I swear, you’re gonna get worse than scorch marks.’’ She chuckled as she drew a line through the ash on his cheek, she then looked at her finger before rubbing it on her pants. ‘’If you need anything, you call me alright?’’ Sci nodded, ‘’You to, especially if something of yours goes toast’’. Brenda shook her head at the pun as he headed to the exit door, ‘’You know I’m gonna take you up on that offer, right?’’ The skeleton nodded with a slight laugh, ‘’Yeah of course, got a friend’s deal for you, about 5 grand per item I reckon’’. With this the rabbit monster rolled her eyes and gave him the middle finger before leaving. Sci now left alone in the dark office, he looked at his phone and went down the contact list. No not his Paps, he couldn’t move out of home and move back in, plus with him having disappeared for… quite a while, he had learned to become much more independent without him, although it was good for Paps to mature. His Alphys was overseas working on something, maybe it would’ve been a good idea if he went with her, can’t very well keep her from here, not easily anyway. ‘’Grillby might be…’’ Sci’s mind flashed to the shit he was going to get from his counterpart there and without even giving time for his mind to think any other thought, he moved the contacts down a few more people before he came across another Alphys, Glitch to be precise. ‘’Heh, maybe she’ll help out, hopefully I won’t be to much of a bother, although knowing her, she’ll probably fake being ok with it anyway’’. With that he pressed the call button, and listened to rhythmic rings, waiting for someone to pick up.

Sci stood outside the front gate, a concerned expression as he wondered if this house could even support another person living in it, surely even an extra bone of his was going to cause the whole place to come down, let alone himself and the two suitcases he brought with him. ‘’Well I guess I can’t talk, my old place is a little worse off now’’. That thought pushing him on, he chuckled as he opened the gate and walked towards the front door, hearing the creaking of the wooden porch. The skeleton started to feel some form of weird feeling inside his soul, as if he was starting to feel ill in the gut, but he couldn’t work out why, perhaps it was butterflies in his stomach, he had nothing to worry about, nothing to fear, it was just Alphys after all. Bone made contact with the door and a loud knock was made in the hope of gaining the attention of the house’s resident, and it wasn’t long before he knew it had done it’s intended purpose as he heard very fast footsteps, Alphys must either be very excited or very nervous, he instantly assumed the latter. Sci’s expression suddenly turned taken aback and confused and obviously his greeter noticed as a giggle came from the goat child in front of the skeleton. A few silent seconds passed before Asgore spoke, ‘’Heh, it’s nice to see you to Sci, how you doing’’? Sci shook his head and gave a curious smile, this was a bit different than he was expecting, ‘’Oh sorry, nice to see you as well, it’s been a while… what are you doing here? It’s getting a bit late, didn’t realise you two were close enough to have sleep overs’’. Asgore shook his head with a grin as he was obviously expecting this reaction, ‘’I’m um actually living here’’ ‘’L-living here?! Permanently? Gaster was ok with that?’’ Sci did the skeleton equivalent of an eyebrow raise as he wondered what the hell could’ve caused a situation like this, but he couldn’t complain, the more the merrier, and he enjoyed Asgore’s company at least. ‘’Yeah it’s all good, I’ve been living here for about a… a week huh? A week really goes by quick. Anyway yeah, so I guess we’ll be housemates for a while!’’, the goat child seemed to be quite happy as he moved out of the way of the door to let Sci in, an opportunity he took quickly, closing the door behind him. ‘’Well I guess you’ll be able to show me around since you’re experienced with the place’’, the skeleton said as he put down his stuff next to the front door, he would put it away later. The kid started to lead the guest to the kitchen, ‘’Well I’ll leave that to Alphys, she seemed incredibly excited to have you over.’’ Sci scratched back of his head with a nervous laugh, ‘’Really? That’s not what I was expecting… that’s nice I suppose.’’ ‘’Yeah, I think she really wanted to show off the small lab she has in the basement, I don’t think showing it to me had the effect she desired, most of it went over my head’’, Asgore chuckled as he got out a pot and started to fill it with water under the sink tap. ‘’Oh, I see, I’m actually interested in checking that out now, I wonder what she managed to fit inside? Speaking of her, where is she at the moment?’’ Asgore thought for a second before responding, ‘’She’s out getting dinner, think we’re just having some chicken and stuff? Can’t quite remember’’. He grinned, the kid was glad that Alphys wasn’t here right now, otherwise she would’ve insisted on serving the tea because she was their host, but it was his turn and he was going to deliver a good impression with this. Asgore moved the half full put over to the stove and turned the gas on, and in an action that frightened Sci for a second, he stuck his paw into the stove and then suddenly there was fire. The goat quickly pulled his hand out before it got to hot for him and turned to Sci, seeing a bigger smile appear on the skeleton filled with curiosity, ‘’Been learning some new tricks kid?’’ Asgore gave a slightly proud smile, not that he felt he had much to be proud about, ‘’Uh yeah, I’ve umm been practising this…’’, He raised his paw up and after a couple of seconds of concentration, light blue flames danced around it, like his paw was a match. ‘’Looking very nice, seems a little… familiar though.’’ Asgore gave a shy smile, ‘’Yeah we did think that as well, can’t give you a reason why though, but it’s cooler than orange… anyways there’s not much to be super impressed with, I can’t throw it and it’s not the hottest thing in the world, no where near Tori or anything.’’ Sci shrugged, ‘’Hey I’m sure you’ll get there kid, just keep working on it and soon enough you’ll be flinging fire like the best of them… flinging safely of course’’. The two of them gave small laughs as Asgore opened a packet of Golden Flower Tea, preparing for use. Sci gave a small sigh and then seemed to start examining Asgore, before finally resting on a joking grin. ‘’Guess you’re starting to grow up, aren’t you? Although… I don’t think you’ve got any taller.’’ Asgore crossed his arms and glared at Sci, ‘’People change greatly over two years and one of those great changes is my height. The Asgore you knew probably was a midget compared to me!’’ Sci laughed and shrugged, he was aware people change over large amounts of time, he knew better than most. Also, while he was mostly just trying to tease the boy, he honestly couldn’t really see much of a difference, perhaps he was just unobservant. Before Sci could try and give Asgore another fun verbal jab, the two of them turned as they heard the front door open and the goat gave a smile, ‘’Hey Al, he’s here!’’

’’Well at least this guy might actually be helpful, we don’t need another freeloader’’, Alphys sighed as the voice already started to complain, although it didn’t bring her down whatsoever, ‘’Asgore is a welcome addition to this place, ok?’’. The voice made a noise to show they didn’t care about arguing anymore, and she was fine with that. The lizard put her shopping bags next the her new guests suitcases and then sped walked to the kitchen swiftly, a big smile on her face as she entered, ‘’Hey Sci, W-welcome!!’’. Sci smiled as Alphys came over and hugged him, he returned the favour with his arms, although he still felt a little awkward doing it. She moved back and the two guys both noticed she seemed fidgety, although it was obviously more of an excited happy fidgety rather than one from pure nervousness, although that temporarily disappeared as she gave a squinty look at Asgore, and he gave back a slightly guilty shrug, ‘’The Golden Flower Tea’s already out Al, I got this one, leave the greeting tea to me’’. Alphys’ expression returned to what it was before as she turned back to Sci, ‘’S-sorry I uh wasn’t h-here when you a-arrived, but I g-got dinner, going to try and c-cook some ch-chicken and-‘’ ‘’It’s alright Al, glad to see you, how’re you?’’ Alphys was tapping her hands together, a nervous smile appearing, ‘’Oh uh I-I’m fine, j-just h-happy th-that you made it, I’m uh g-going to make sure y-you’re comfortable and such…,’’ She seemed to sweat slightly as she seemed to have some sort of realisation, ‘’Oh g-gosh s-sorry, I’m b-being a real suck u-up aren’t I? J-just make y-yourself at home, d-do whatever y-you want’’. The shy monster looked a little confused as Asgore and Sci shared a look and a grin before turning back to her, they seemed to have some mutual thought that made her a little worried. ‘’Hey Al, is there anything you want to do?’’, Sci gave a knowing smile and suddenly Alphys seemed to get super nervous, ‘’Oh uh n-nothing, I’m h-happy t-to just ummm chill and stuff…?’’ Asgore now decided to pitch in, a similar grin to the skeleton appearing, ‘’Are you sure you don’t want give Sci a tour of the place… perhaps somewhere in particular?’’ Suddenly the lizard realised what they meant and she proceeded to give Asgore another small glare before looking up at Sci, her hands balled up in front of her face and the fidgeting got a little more intense, ‘’Ok ummm I-I could sh-sh-show you… uh only i-if you w-want, n-no need to umm… feel p-pressure or anything, y-you don’t n-need to e-even w-‘’ Sci decided it was best to interrupt before she had a verbal implosion, ‘’Yes Alphys, I would like to see your lab, right now if you wish’’. She stared up at him for a few seconds as he simply gave her a nod. Before in almost in an instant, Alphys grabbed Sci’s hand and dragged him off quickly out of the room, Asgore was certain if he’d blinked, he would’ve thought the two of them had disappeared into the very thin air that was left before them.

#glitchtale alphys #quantumtale asgore #science sans #fox household #undertale

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captainwhogotthecanary · 7 years ago

Note

For the prompt thing Captain Canary + Star City + fluff + cards

Okay, so this is a multi-purpose ficlet. I set out to write adrabble for @ficcingcaptaincanary, and it ended up also being a (very verylate, but they will all get finished) prompt fill, as well as loosely inspiredby a drawing by @pintosketches. Set at some vague point in time that I won’tstop hoping will eventually exist.

She doesn't mean to keep him. Sara isn't really a cat person, andthe bedraggled kitten who wandered aboard the Waverider is a scrappy littlething, hissing and swiping at anyone who tries to touch him.

Except for Sara. When Sara is nominated to remove the cat (she'sgot the best chance at avoiding claws, and besides, she's the captain), thetiny creature gives a lonely little meow and then purrs much more loudly thanseems possible, pressing itself firmly into Sara's touch. She ignores thesnickers from the crew as she starts cooing to it and brings it to the med bay.

Gideon is able to clean up the stray without any trauma, revealinga gorgeous shade of gray under all the dirt. “The stowaway is male, approximately8 weeks old, a breed known as Russian Blue.” There's a pause as Sara continuespetting the happily rumbling feline. “While I don't officially recommend weadopt him, ship’s cats are known to be good luck, and this one seems entirelyunbothered by the stresses of time travel.”

Sara still doesn't mean to keep him. She figures at least one ofthe crew will object and be an annoyance, or maybe someone will be allergic,but everyone seems to find the kitten adorable (when he’s around her, anyway;they give him a wide berth when he's on his own), and Gideon is easily able tocounteract the allergens. She's not planning to keep him, though, she's reallynot.

But then she finds him curled around a deck of cards, the ones sheused with Leonard, the ones tucked away in a drawer in her room. She finds himthere anytime he sneaks off for a nap, and it results in a name: Ace.

And, well, she's named the cat and he obviously likes her (and herdeck of cards), so she can't very well evict him. He becomes something of amascot, greeting the crew every time they board, saving his affection for thecaptain. When others board, he treats them with regal disdain as long as theydon't try to pet him.

(There's a chorus of helpful don’ts from the crew the firsttime Felicity reaches for him, but it's too late. Luckily, he rewards her witha warning swat and doesn't draw blood.)

And then they stop in Star City for a break instead of a mission,and her father asks her to work anyway. He's got this person, see, who hearrested. Doesn't come up in the system, but Quentin knows he's seen the guybefore, and he found some old paperwork that supports his hunch.

“Guy's name is Leonard Snart,” he explains, and Sara comes to astop in the hallway leading to the holding cell. Quentin turns to look at her,concern and curiosity on his face. “Heard of him?” When she nods but doesn'telaborate, Quentin starts walking again. “Must be a big deal if you've heard ofhim on that ship of yours.”

Her throat is too tight to speak, so she just follows. It's beenso long, and he's dead. It can't really be him, can it? It's animposter, or a case of mistaken identity, or…

The cell comes into sight, its occupant sprawled out on the benchlike he owns the place. Any notion of his being anyone but who he appears to beflies out of Sara’s mind as his eyes meet hers, flashing with recognition andrelief before he adopts a casual smirk.

“Sara,” he says, and shit, he says it just like he used to, andshe sees her dad glance at her, trying to put together the pieces. Leonardstands, watching her, and Sara crosses her arms, looking him over in asdetached a way as she can.

He’s wearing the same thing he was at the Oculus, and he looksgood. Healthy and decidedly not dead.

“How are you here?” Sara asks, proud of the fact that her voiceremains steady.

“Well,” Leonard drawls, nodding at Quentin without breaking eyecontact, “Detective Lance here was kind enough to offer me a place to stay forthe night. I thought it would be impolite to refuse.”

Her dad huffs, and Sara turns to look at him. “He tried to rob abank,” he explains, clearly exasperated. “My bank. While I was there.”

“Weapon wasn’t even loaded,” Leonard says, voice dripping withmock sincerity. When Sara meets his eyes again, a bit of his armor drops. “Ihad to get your attention somehow.”

“Why didn’t you go to Team Flash?” she asks. “They know how to getahold of the Waverider.”

“I didn’t know what they knew,” he says. “Besides, there’s toomuch baggage there.”

His look reveals that he’s aware of the irony of his statement;there’s not exactly a lack of baggage between him and Sara, not at the moment.She watches him silently for a minute, and he quietly returns her look. With asigh, Sara breaks eye contact and looks at her father.

“Can you release him?” Sara asks. “He’s one of my crew.” She canalmost feel the interest radiating from Leonard at the casual statement. Itmatches the interest from her father at the entire interaction. For a fewseconds, she’s worried Quentin will decline until he’s heard the whole story(maybe even after he’s heard the whole story), and she’s so used to pushingaway the memories that she’s not entirely sure she’d manage it.

Instead, tension drains from her when he sighs and reaches for hiskeys.

Sara and Leonard are silent on the walk back to the Waverider. Sheneeds some answers, both as captain and as herself, but she wants to do it in theprivacy of the ship. Everyone else is gone, visiting family or friends. As sheand Leonard board, they’re greeted by a dignified mew, the little kittenpatiently awaiting her return. Sara bends to pet him automatically, thenstraightens. Leonard is watching her again.

“New crew member?”

“Captain’s cat,” she explains, which does nothing to diminish hiscuriosity. “His name is Ace.”

“Hmm.” Leonard crouches, and Sara’s customary warnings catch inher throat as she watches Leonard reach out, fingers curled back, posturenon-threatening, stopping an inch or so from making contact. Ace sniffsdelicately, then leans into Leonard’s hand. Leonard’s lips twitch as hecommences petting and scratching as the kitten demands.

Sara can’t even muster up any surprise. Leonard appears to be backfrom the dead; why shouldn’t her kitten who hates everybody like him?

Leonard winces as the cat climbs his arm, perching on hisshoulders and looking at him as if to ask why he isn’t getting on with it.Leonard chuckles softly (and no, Sara isn’t going to pay attention to howappealing that sound is) and stands, careful not to dislodge his passenger, wholooks perfectly at ease. Sara shakes her head, giving in to a smile, then leadsthe way.

Habit, she thinks, is what takes her to the bottom of the storagebay’s stairs. She doesn’t have their cards with her, but they’ve got Ace. WhenSara and Leonard sit, facing each other, Ace jumps down, trotting happily backand forth beside their legs before settling down, a little ball of gray fluffproviding warmth where he’s curled up against her calf, nestled happily betweenher and Leonard’s left legs.

Once the kitten is asleep, no longer actively providing adistraction, Sara looks up at Leonard, who’s already watching her.

“You died,” she says, not sure where else to start.

“So did you,” he says easily enough. “Some people are a little toostubborn to stay that way.”

“You know I need more than that, right?”

Leonard’s jaw works before he speaks. “I know. Don’t have muchmore than that, though. I remember being at the Oculus. I remember that kiss.”How the hell does he get so much heat into what should be a simple gaze? Saracan’t help the phantom sensations of her lips pressed desperately against his.“I remember seeing those Time Bastards realize they were done for. Then I wokeup in Star City. When I realized how much time had passed, I figured I shouldtry to track you down. Wasn’t sure who else might be safe.”

“So you went through my dad.” It feels like she should saysomething else, but what is there?

He nods, still watching her. Long seconds pass. “So, you’recaptain now?”

Oh, she could probably explain that. “Rip left. I took over.”Simplified some, sure, but she’s not ready to rehash everything in detail, andLeonard seems to accept that.

“And the cat?”

Sara smiles fondly at her pet, leaning forward to scratch underAce’s ear, and she’s rewarded with a loud purr, even though he doesn’t botheropening his eyes. “I didn’t mean to keep him, but he came on board and I didn’thave the heart to tell him to leave.” She swallows, feeling Leonard’s eyesstill on her.

“And what about me?” he asks. “Do I need to leave?” She looks athim, and he pulls up his virtual shield, eyes losing some of their intensity ashe shrugs. “I’m sure Barry would have me, either as teammate or annoyance. Notsure which I’d prefer.”

“You can stay, too,” she says, and there’s that intensity again,and she looks back down at the cat. He’s much safer to look at. “Ace approves,”she adds, “and he doesn’t approve of anybody. He’d probably never forgive me ifI kicked you out.”

They sit in comfortable silence until the crew starts returning,their peace disturbed by exclamations of surprise.

It’s a toss-up whether they’re more surprised at Leonard’s returnor at Ace’s adoration of him.

Only Mick stays silent, staring hard at Leonard before pulling himinto a tight hug, which Leonard returns. Ace objects, hissing at Rory, and Sarauses her amusement at the feisty little animal to ignore the stinging in hereyes.

Things on the ship settle into a new normal. Sara and Leonard goback to how they were before the Oculus, challenging and supporting each other,depending on what’s needed at the time. They don’t address the kiss, but theheat that’s always been between them remains.

Ace goes from “the captain’s cat” to “the captains’ cat” after Raypoints out that he follows Captain Lance and Captain Cold everywhere he can.The kitten alternates nights, looking put out when they separate to retire toindividual quarters, then stalking behind whomever belongs to him that night.Sara assumes that he curls up on top of Leonard’s feet every other night, justlike he does hers.

And then a mission goes south, almost irrevocably so, and shebarely makes it to the privacy of her quarters before she crashes her lips toLeonard’s. It’s desperate, just like the first time, full of the same need toconvey what she can’t with words.

Unlike the first time, Leonard’s hands are free, and he isn’tabout to die. He responds instantly, pulling her close, deepening the kiss andbacking them toward her bed.

Ace is pretty damned satisfied that night, but not as satisfied asSara.

Anyway, Sara doesn’t mean to keep him, not in her life oron her ship or in her bed, but she keeps him anyway. And as they fall asleepeach night, Ace purring happily atop their intertwined legs (because CaptainCold, it turns out, is a cuddler once he lets his walls down), she thinks thatadopting a stray is probably the best thing she’s ever done.

#captain canary #fluff #kitten #ship's cat #fixit #my fic #prompt fill #sorry for how late the last few prompt fills are #and thank you so much #and I hope you like this!#badassnyssa

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maddermyth · 5 years ago

Text

RCIJ 2020

Prompt: Not looking for love.

A/N: Hi @joylee56, thank you for your prompt, it has been fun writing to you each week. I’m sorry for the delay, I grossly underestimated the extent of the story and overestimated my time management skills. I must admit this is my first time writing fanfiction and there was no beta (so right now I’m crossing my fingers to even get this posted correctly), but regardless of this I hope you like and enjoy it. Thanks for your patience and for the inspiration amidst these weird times.

Rating: T there’s some imagery some would consider violent but nothing really significant.

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Unholy Requests

Night

There was a dead body on the floor.

A man, his body in an obviously uncomfortable position, laid on a carpet that had seen better days. By all accounts tall and big, in a bodybuilding kind of way. Belle would bet that to most he must have looked attractive: blue eyes, dark hair, expensive if questionable taste in clothes.

And she had killed him.

If asked how a woman of 5”5 (including heels, and they were quite high) had killed such a man, she wouldn’t know how to answer. To be honest, Belle couldn't remember how it had happened, she just knew it had been her. Guilt more than shock had frozen her at the sight the first time, but after a month of seeing variations of the same tableau everytime she closed her eyes, she was frustrated at the lack imagination of her dreams, or was it her brain’s stubbornness? Luckily it appears there’s no blood in the scene this time. She didn’t recognise the cabin where this always took place, and had never the opportunity to explore it since that first dream, but she was grateful this particular dream didn’t involved cleaning it as well. It had happen once.

“What now, dearie?”

Since the dreams started there were three people in them: herself, the dead body and for a reason she hadn’t figured out, the town’s landlord. Admittedly she had recently moved to Storybrooke and apart from the introductory batch of gossip that welcomed her, and taught her who was who in the small town, there were an alarming number of warnings against the infamous man. That he was a loan shark (not unfeasible since apparently many owed him money), soulless (had a no extension policy on rent, and was to anyone’s opinion a yerk for following it, the rumour about trying to evict the convent was always the main piece of evidence), possibly in the mob (inspired by his choice of clothes and frankly that sounded ridiculous, she quite admired his sense of fashion). However, the man himself seem to feed the rumour mill. From the way he dressed, to turning his pawnshop into his lair, dark and full of treasures people exchanged when desperately needing money. Owning more than half of the town, residential and commercial units, he still make rounds on foot, and on complicated situations he even had a man for muscle Mr Dove.

Belle thought it was some kind of apprehension born out of so many whispers that had made the man feature in the murder scene that repeatedly appeared in her dreams. But it didn’t fit, for all the town talked she couldn’t summon fear or nervousness the times she had cross words with the man. Admittedly, most of them were at the library with in either with family or doing some favour or other for them, it was hard to see the soulless aspect of his being then. As if her brain wanted to challenged her statement on dullness, as the dreams continued the same, the man himself started to transform. The only trace of imagination in her dreams had turned the man into a reptilian humanoid, even his clothes had changed, dressed now in leather and high boots. His eyes darker and larger than any human, scales in his skin sometimes reflection in greenish or golden hues depending on the light, and talons. It could be a shocking image and certainly she could imagine his renters running from him in that look, but the changes had happen so gradually that Belle could only wonder were the inspiration for it had come from.

With a weary sigh, because it was always the same: he would ask a mere formality and to encourage her to move, she wouldn’t wake up until the body was disposed, and the cabin would supply whatever they needed to get the job done, in some manner or other, it didn’t have to be neat and the golden skinned landlord always helped, but all the same, it wasn’t restful. She would wake up the following day tired, with aching arms and back… eyeing the pair of shovels laid behind the door she said, “We could try bury him in the garden this time.”

Morning

It was a mistake. He had been making many of those recently, but this one was a simple one to avoid and yet here he was. For weeks now Neal and Emma had had a rough time balancing work and a small child, so he had offered to take his grandson for a weekend and given them the keys to the cabin in the woods. The boy had a sweet tooth and it was Sunday, a trip to Granny’s had seemed like the perfect idea.

Since his son and now wife moved to town, the image of the impassive Mr.Gold, owner of most property in town, nemesis of the town mayor, loan shark and heartless landlord had taken a mortal wound, especially since four months after that his grandson Henry had been born. But years of people fearing him were working in his favour, even when he had his grandson by his side people still gave him a wide breadth. Today though, Miss Lucas had greeted him with a smirk on her face and a knowing look that had hunted him since he crossed the door. “Unusually early for a Sunday, Gold.”

“If you don’t want customers this early you should reconsider opening hours.” He said with as much indifference as he could, strangely it took him some effort. “And miss my favourite customer? No.” There was that look again. “She is one of the few that rises with the sun regardless of the day, but of course you know that.” Oh. That's what this is about. Since Regina had the magnificent idea that the library was to reopen, he had opposed her. It took no more than the right thing said here and there before any council meeting. She knew of the intricate maze of mines that ran under the town, and knew that it was the safest place to keep his, and even some of hers, more unusual experiments. It’s secrecy and its contents one way or another benefited someone in town. That’s why they had agree to sealed the mines in the first place, with only one access point located in the town clock building, inside the library. However, a Belle French had arrived four months ago in the ship of Mrs. Finn. He didn’t pay attention to her, apparently she was a tourist, as rare the sight was in Storybrooke. But Regina had. And at some point Miss French decided to stay and become the librarian. He had try to put a stop on that but it was to late. He had made the mistake of making everyone aware of how much he loaded the idea. And then, he had meet the young woman, chatted with her whenever his found a solid excuse to into the library. The fight to close the building had since then remained restricted to paperwork. And that was unusual for him. And apparently, someone like the wolf-girl had decided to mock him for it. He must have let his face react because her smile only grew. “The usual? And extra blueberry pancakes for little Henry, after all he’s such an excellent wingman.”

Either it was the implication that he was using his grandson somehow or that even though he enjoyed his time with Henry like nothing else, his reason to be there in the heart of town instead of his home spoiling his grandson was so easy to see, the comment rattled him more than he was ready to admit. And even though he was at the edge of leaving, he reminded himself everytime the over entitled waitress looked at him with the same smirk in her face, that he couldn’t let her win. It was still too early, they could avoid her (yes, it was now a team effort with Henry) and the wolf-girl would be set to right, or she still could come into the dinner and make the mortifying comment worthy.

Five minutes after their order arrived, and with his attention on trying to keep Henry from turning his breakfast into a Pollock piece, his cell phone rang. “Gold.”

“Hi pops!” a little too cheerful voice greeted. “Neal? Is everything alright?”

“Well... a couple of your friends had no idea of our ‘weekend far from the world’ plan and broke into the cabin.” Neal answered with a patient tone. “Something about needing a place to do an experiment?” In the background the distinct noises of Jefferson moving around the kitchenette could be heard. “Emma is trying to keep Jeff from settling in as he now thinks we need breakfast.”

“Just send them to the store. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Meddling fools. After hearing a door close in the other side of the call, his son said “They wanted me to call you, you know?” A sight left him, after noticing the call had distracted him from paying attention to Henry’s anctics.“Their great talent is to pretend to be idiots, I bet they wanted to get through to me in the most effective way. Sorry son.”

“It’s ok, dad. Just keep them busy and happy until tomorrow? Probably give them their own lab, one of those storage units at the edge of the docks, huh? Where they can play and have fun.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Too close to the surface and to drunk sailors, that particular idea was discarded some time ago. “I’ll keep them away. You just send them out and enjoy your day”.

After hanging up and turning his full attention back to the toddler, Gold was glad of his foresight of having a change of clothes for both himself and the boy in the back of the store. “You’re going to help me with those two, right?”

---

“Bluebell!”

Hurrying down main street Belle stopped at the unusual nickname, there was only one person that called her that. Looking at her watch, still not too late Ruby was still on her shift, she headed to the two figures currently shadowing the front of the pawnshop.

“Jefferson, Dr. Whale.” Bear hug from one, and hand shake from the other. “Glad to see you again. How was the trip?”

“Successful if hours exploring are counted.” Answered the young man with a smirk and a wide movement of his hands. “Alas, not so much if the treasure had to be found.”

“It was a waste of time.” While Jefferson had a flare for the dramatics, Whale drifted towards a general disposition of antiphaty. The later did a great job at not rolling his eyes constantly at whatever the first said. It was in itself an entertaining performance.

“That only means we’ll have to go away again and we took plenty of photos.” Said Jefferson with a boyish smile and already taking his phone out. “Want to see?”

“I would love to, but I’ve got to get to the dinner.” She had taken to drop on early Sundays at Granny’s to have breakfast with Ruby. She’ll get worried soon.

“Has my favourite librarian replaced me already?”

“Madder, she is the only one in about a decade.” Belle still could not believe the library had been left abandoned for so long, not that it had been in as good as state considering once she started preparing it for opening.

Jeff did roll his eyes at that, “Still my favourite.”

“Bet you already made friends in town.” the unusual small talk comment from Whale came with a look she couldn’t quite place.

“Since Ariel and you guys abandoned me as soon as we touched shore, I’ve had to look for alternatives.” Deep in her pocket her cell phone beeped. “Speaking of, if I don’t get to the dinner soon Ruby is going to think I’ve dropped dead or something. See you later. I’ll hold you on to it Jeff, to tell me all about this trip of yours.” “You have my word.” He swore with a hand over his heart and a seriousness to his expression, as she started to walk away. “Come for tea soon and I’ll tell you all about the places we visited.” He shouted after her.

Looking back with a smile at the comment, she fail to notice someone was exiting the dinner in time to stop, until a gentle hand held her at the upper arm. Startled, she turned her head back to come face to face with… well, literally the man in her dreams, and until the day before she hadn’t confide in anyone about that. His eyes though beautiful, were not the same, and was it weird that she missed in that moment those he sported at night?

“Oh, I'm so sorry Mr.gold.” Belle had to take a step back, noticing she had been staring. Avoiding the man’s eyes she noticed that he was carrying a very content and covered in food toddler. “Hello Henry, seems like you enjoyed breakfast today. Was Ruby in a good mood?”

“It seemed so.” The gruff tone of the answer had her looking back at the man’s face. No matter that the question was meant for the little boy, it seemed Ruby had been up to something. He seemed to realise then that it wasn’t a real question. “I- I mean like everyone else she looks tired but definitely entertained.” Was he blushing?

“It’s been nice to see you. I really have to leave you I’m already quite late but.. see you around.” She hadn’t meant for that to sound like a question. He nods, though. “Have a nice day Mr.Gold, Henry.”

“Good day, Miss French.”

The tiny bell on the door, signaled her arrival. Quickly catching Ruby’s eye, she came to sit at one of the booths at the back. The dinner had quickly become a welcome sight in her short time in town. By now she could identified all those early visitors, a town routine that was more comforting than dull, perfect for people watching, until Ruby took her break.

At the bar, Leroy seem to still be drunk and happy telling a story animatedly to his brothers, who in turn seem more worried than anything else. A glass unceremoniously put on the table got her attention back to her friend. “Where have you been?” And she looked a little anxious, but it had been right, she look dead on her feet. “I was getting worried something had happened?”

“Good morning to you to Rubes. Got distracted.” Ignoring her friend’s look she explain. “After yesterday’s fiasco I went back to the library, do a little work, clean the back... and guess what?”

“Come on, just spill.” Ruby sat forward in the table, crossing her arms. A determined glint in her eye. “What happened? Did Pongo came to apologise to you in place of its owner?”

Her appointment with Dr. Hopper the day before had been a disaster. She had come to town, both as a break from her home but also because of the reputation of the man. He was known to be an expert at unlocking the human mind. She had been unfair with him, he had been doing his best and she too for months now but nothing had changed. She had decided to stay longer in town, and took on the job of temporarily put the library up and running. Yet,frustration had reached a high point the previous day. After a car accident with her mother, that left her motherless and with no memory of the entire week before, she had gone to more doctors and try even more therapies to remember that tragic day, that was recommended. And though the week had come, that day and the accident had yet to. Dr. Hopper was her last option, and he was failing.

“That’s not- It was my fault too. Archie was just doing his job, but it definitely wasn’t a good day for either of us.” If she was being honest, the man had also been at edge for whatever reason. It had motivated her to confrontation, a desire to fight still burning inside even now. “There was no need for apology delivering dogs. However, I was restless so I got to tamper with the old elevator in the library, and it works! I mean, I only got it to open last night so I went this morning and found a control panel.”

“Isn’t it like too old and dangerous? The library has been abandoned for years now, you remember all the work it took to make it presentable” Oh, she remembered and felt it for days afterwards.

“I know. But that’s why I went back today, inside there are just basic controls to go up and down, everything else is on the outside. And the panel seems functional but it needs a key to work.”

“A job for more than one.” she said nodding, a small frown forming. “And the mayor didn’t gave it to you along the ones for the library?”

“No, it wasn’t either with the ones for the apartment or the library clock. You should come with me when your shift is over, you are great at finding stuff.” Noting the way Ruby was sitting she added, “After you’ve taken a nap. You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks. Yes, as much as I’d like to wake up Monday morning after trespassing into dangerous basements-”

“It isn’t that dangerous…”

“..I’d think you’ll have other plans for tonight. And in the meantime I get a proper rest.”

“What do you mean?

“There is an older gentleman waiting for you at the lounge, arrived late last night and lucky for him it was me and not granny’s turn on the B&B reception.” Slamming her hands to the table she started to get up. “Alright, take your iced tea and I’ll bring you your breakfast when it’s ready.” Since she was already waving her on, Belle got up from the booth and allowed herself to be guided to the hall between the dinner and the B&B. “Just move along, the man has been waiting long enough.”

The lounge was a small room with two sofas against the wall, facing towards an old looking TV on a small table. There was fruits and biscuits on the centre table. It was mostly empty but for a tall, large man sitting down in the corner of a sofa. He look small, hunched over his knees, but Belle would recognise him anywhere.

“Papa, what- how are you here?”

“Hello princess, not so happy to see your old man?” Looking up to her, she could see he had been having a hard time. He seemed paler, and older. His smile was honest but it didn’t reach far.

“Of course I’m happy, papa.” She said, coming into the lounge and hugging him, hard. After so long, and the nature of her parting, she hadn’t been aware of how much she missed him. Especially after the last couple of days, this was the best of visits. “Just surprised. I wasn’t expecting you here, least of all without notice. I almost imagined you coming back with Ariel in her sailing trip.”

“Oh, that would be dreadful.” Maurice French lost any trace of colour on his face at that. “I’m not a man for the sea.” Guiding him to sit down, he took one of her hands in his. “I should have told you before but the flight messed with my notion of time and then it seemed better to just see you.”

“Are you ok? You look beyond jet-lagged, tell me you had a break before driving up here.”

With a sigh he let go of her hand, taking a sip of his coffee. “I did, petal.” Her father was acting weird, she knew he was stalling whatever he wanted to say. His hands kept turning the cup. “Things have changed.”

“I know…” Losing her mother had affected both, to a scale none of them were prepared to deal with. He retired from the company handing it to Gaston, and went to live in the countryside. That had felt as he had abandoned her, but she admitted she did the same, even before accepting Ariel’s invitation to come to Maine. She had spend weeks, chasing doctors, therapist, new methods, whatever clue to settle her amnesia. She could wait for it to happen naturally, even though many a person told her to have patience. Dr. Hopper was the last name in that list of options, and while her father had changed county, she had changed continent. And she knew there were no bad feelings, both agreed they were trying hard, in their own way to cope.

“Not just that. I was called into the office a couple weeks ago.” Softly he continued. “And I was just so ready to retire.”

“I thought you left Gaston in charge”.

“I did. But my girl, the fate is against us!” The booming voice of her father, startled her. A voice that was either happy in family occasions, or annoyed at work now had the taste of defeat. He looked so tired. “I missed you so much but by now I’m just happy you left. Not that I helped to make the decision a nice one.” It hadn't in any case an easy conversation.

“Don’t worry, papa. I understand why you said what you said. It wasn’t nice but I knew where they were coming from.” I wanted to tell you the same when you moved again, first.

“I hurt you. I forced you into marriage twice and one of those was just to keep you by my side. The thought of you going away, to America nonetheless so soon after your mother left us… As always, you made the right choice.”

“What happened?”

“Another bloody accident. Gaston crashed, apparently fell asleep while driving. Went into a coma but right before I came here he died. As soon as the crash happened I got called into the office again, there’s no one else prepared enough to handle the company at the moment, it was meant for him.” He looked up into her eyes at that. “You first, and since you refused it, him. It took me a while to get a break and come to tell you about it in person. I know you didn’t have the best relationship especially at the end but…”

“No, we didn’t. Still, that’s awful. And it doesn’t make sense, he was a freak with rules. He wouldn’t drive in that condition. Is someone with him?”

“His personal assistant, the man was half in love with him. And of course the company is going to cover the ceremony and burial. I’ll be in charge of that.”

“Good.” That’s all she could say, she knew she had to ask but she really didn’t want to listen to the answer. It had become easier to say no to her father, but not only had she missed him a lot, but she knew how much like a son he had loved Gaston. “Do you want me to go?”

“I’ve learned my lesson, princess. It’s your choice.”

---

“Our new librarian almost crashes into the dark lord of Storybrooke. Are you alright Gold?” At least he waited until he nearer the store to speak. Jefferson was his most talented hunter, he could find almost anything that he requested and bring objects he hadn’t considered. It was his talent what kept him in the job, but there were times Gold wondered if he was too patient with him.

“I’m perfectly fine.” Gold answered, moving his cane to the hand holding Henry. And unlocking the store’s door with the other. “But since you seem to be in a good mood I take it you found what I requested.”

“No such luck.” Answered Viktor. For the last past year it was the same answer. It was annoying but he couldn’t find it in himself to be truly bothered by now. Gold had resign himself to look for alternatives, yet they will require some time. If they could just locate this text, it all could be over by next month. “There was a trace, someone else that’s been looking for it but we hit a dead end soon enough.”

“Almost literally.” Jefferson said, the little bell at the door marking the comment.

“So you failed and then claimed my attention by using my son, instead of just notifying me.” There was a small cot in the back room where he put Henry while going to find a change of clothes for the boy. “Don’t make me waste my time.”

“Actually, we want to try something different?” offered Viktor.

“We?” He knew what was coming, Dr. Whale and himself disagreed in method most of the time, moments like this led to a bet of sorts in which he currently hold the lead. Magic after all failed less than science.

“I want to try something different.” Oh, did he enjoyed the challenged in the eyes of the blond man.

“Do enlighten me.”

“It’s possible we’ve been looking not in the wrong place but for the wrong thing.”

“Our deal is very specific.” He said with enough ice in his voice to remind the doctor that that wasn’t an option, his back to the man and back to the task of changing his grandson. In the background he could hear Jefferson looking for the scotch. He had the good manner of host, that one.

“Yes, I’ll help Jefferson locate this method Morpheus’ child used to become mortal. And in compensation I can run some tests on you.” Another mistake for the list, thought Gold. “And so far we have assumed is in a text, you said it had to be read aloud to be enacted.” He paused, giving him time to interfere. He has been learning Jefferson’s dramatics, that could be useful sometime. Turning his attention from Henry to the man Gold raised an eyebrow in questioning. “What if it is coded in another way?” the man continued. “Information hidden somewhere not in a physical object. After all, for everything we have learned we still have no clue of what Morpheus’ child was capable of.”

“You have an idea of where to look.” His grandson had grown since he bought the clothes, giving up on the jacket, he tried the sweater.

“More like a first place to tackle. The brain.” Done with Henry he turned his attention to the men, in time for Jefferson to handle him a glass, giving the doctor another. Gold nodded his thanks. “Your type is notoriously antagonistic of science, if the child wanted to hid the formula to turn divinity into humans it probably is where you don’t want to look or only reached by something you’d never use.”

“Dr. Whale are you telling me our next option is to go around opening skulls in search of some brains that do the trick.” Catching Jefferson’s eye he continued. “I never thought I’d lived to meet a zombie.”

“Brain activity while sleeping, not an outlandish idea let me assure you. However, since in the 24 hours I’ve been back, I’ve had people lining up in the street coming at me to help them deal with their insomnia...”

“Welcome to my existence.”

“...I gather my best option, despite the atypical ancestry, are you.”

“As you have pointed out, I don’t particularly follow the same rules as you mortals. If there’s any information hidden in you, it most likely won’t be in me.”

“Do you dream?”

Usually, no. If he was honest with himself, he required less rest than most and when he decided to sleep it was a game of chance to dream something. However, the question gave him pause, because as of the last month he had been sleeping everyday and dreaming every time. It became an appointment, it felt now as its own small ritual. “Yes.”

“Then, what’s the harm in trying? It will be only one night. Although if you know of someone else that unlike the rest of the town can sleep for at least six hours undisturbed, we could try with them.” That’s not something he wanted the doctor to know.

“It’s hardly a request you can make out of thin air to anyone without having to explain something or other though, and those who would understand are affected by magic which by the same logic would affect the result.”

“Why do you think this would work?” Asked Jefferson, taking a seat on the main desk.

“The guy who was chasing after it, he got close and for unfortunate circumstances this type of monitoring took place. I just got lucky to take a peek at the results, unusual definitely not supporting of the diagnosis he was given.”

Give it to the man to be sneaky, any test was payment for his service, but he had promised it to Baelfire. Everything in order to fulfil his son’s only request. He had refused once upon a time, and resulted in decades of no contact. It was Emma and Henry existence that made his son sought him out. It was for them that Neal, as now he insisted to be called, had come back to ask for his help in ridding himself of his longevity, and subsequently the reason he was trying to give him another chance at being involved in his life as his father. And Gold could be honest, he didn’t want to do it, anymore than all those years ago. But Bae’s reasons made more sense now, and he had missed his son terribly. He promised, and if it meant giving into this man’s small victories he would play dumb. “When?”

“As soon as we get access to my lab.” There we go again. Their main lab, or at least the one where common projects was inaccessible at the moment. Since Regina had an unsuspected guard at the door. That left few options, either they involved the mayor and had access to the crypt, or they risked her knowing by going to the hospital, then there was Whale’s… “Your garage?”

“Oh, that place is dreadful.” complained Jefferson. He had to agree.

“Not that one!”

Whatever the doctor had going on in his home lab was a sore topic, everytime the man spoke about it there was emotion on his voice. Gold had made the point of finding out what it was, if only to know if any precautions were needed, or if he had to hide his link to Whale in case whatever he was doing attracted too much attention to all of them. The look Jefferson gave him, told him he wasn’t the only one wary of Whale’s displays of emotion. “The access through the mines hasn’t been possible, Dove estimates at least a month more of work.” Before he could be interrupted he added, “If we don't want to call attention of anything being done there.”

“We can’t wait that long.”

At that Jefferson jumped from the desk, turning his head to look at each in turned he did his best attempt at controlling the mischief when he said, “So… are we sneaking into the library?”

“If I may” said a voice from the courting that divided the back room from the customer area. Archie Hooper, only psychiatrist in to, seem to startle at the intensity with which the three men were looking at him. Clearing his throat he offered, “Your best chance of that, would be tonight.”

“Dr.Hopper.” greeted Whale.

“Jiminy!” said the other man with a little hop.

“Please, Jefferson. Don’t call me that.”

“What happens tonight?”

“Nothing special, I just heard in the dinner that a visitor has arrived and Miss French will be occupied as tourist guide. A better moment than most for you to get to the basement.” At one point Hopper was the man in charge of finding the objects he needed for his collection, a future deal, so satisfy Gold’s need of been the one to have them. He had been good even when his methods tended to be old school. After saving enough, he got into university and came to the town to set his own practice. Since then, cordial and ever offering his new abilities he rejected at every opportunity the possibility of coming back to this particular job. Like no one else in town he was aware of Jefferson’s real job, and Gold’s true nature. For whatever reason he never interfered.

“Huh? I didn't know you still worked with us.” said the young man.

“You worked for Gold?” there was mild surprise in Whale’s voice. If Jefferson was thrifty and technologically and magically savvy, what Archie had going for him was the readiness with which people underestimated him. He felt himself smile at that.

“I did and I’m not.” and unusually cold tone in the psychiatrist voice. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, Mr Gold. If you have the time.”

“I guess I owe it to you in exchange of the dinner gossip.” The man was obviously taken with Miss Lucas. Had he been there this morning? “You two, meet me here again at eight tonight.”

Understanding the dismissal both men said their goodbyes, Jefferson’s accompanied by a wide arc of his arm and a bow, “Lock the door on your way out.”

Gold offered Hopper a seat and sat down on the cot, keeping a hand close to Henry. The boy seemed sleepy but it was better to be close. At least with the psychiatrist he could lower his stance a bit more than with his employees.“Be brief.”

“Do you realise he won’t work for you for much longer?” said the man with a nod to the door were the others had gone out. “His daughter will be born soon enough.”

“I know.” They had already talked about it, it wasn’t retirement, not completely but Jefferson had made it clear he wouldn’t accept any job that required he'd be away for long. One of the reasons he kept sending them, so they could find this spell either as a ‘text’ sooner rather than later. It had already taking a lot of effort and money to convince him to take the last two trips. “ Are you asking for the job? Is therapy not as profitable as you hoped?”

“No, just curious. Dr. Whale is not the type for the job.”

“Agreed. He is useful though. And a sore loser, and that’s always fun. Not of your concern, but Jones is willing enough. I know you have tried to talk to him about his many issues, but I warn you, don’t talk him out of the job.”

“On the contrary, opposite to Jefferson, he’ll be a better father for his daughter if he finally has a stable job. Which is the reason I’m here.”

“The Jones?” Well, that would be unusual.

“No, the issue of becoming a better father.” Ah, that. “Wait, hear me out.” The man seemed to collect himself, sitting straighter he continued, “Is this library heist and overall insomnia pandemic in town something to do with what we talked about Baelfire? Did you do something? Did you finally make a choice?”

“Do I have one?” There was no use in hiding the bite in the question. “I thought the whole point of what you said last time was that I didn’t have one but give him what he wants.”

“That’s not quite it. Is not about giving him what he wants, is about respecting his choices. And listening to him.”

“Even thought that means condemning him to mortality?” Rising his voice was a bad idea, specially with Henry this close. So he took a deep breath pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I thought he was mortal.”

“Shortening his lifespan then, if you want specifics.”

“You understand why he asked.”

“Yes, and that doesn’t make it easier.” He had just fed and changed the main reason. “As much as he doesn’t want to see the love of his life or his child die, he is asking me to do just that. I am immortal, I don’t have a choice.”

“He does.” said the doctor, not unkindly.

“Did you come here to repeat this conversation?”

“I wanted to know if all this mess is related to that conversation, and if the fact that it has lasted this long is because it is a hard task or you are purposely delaying it.” The man kept his posture rigid, drawing any bravery from it as he effectively berated him. It was … well, new. “If it is the second, I’m in the mind of arguing for the common well-being with you and ask you please to either stop it or finish it. And I know how suicidal it may seem to come and ask you this.”

At that, in any other company he would be right. “I’ll give it to you, therapy has given you the backbone that you so much lacked.” It was that comment that had the man hunching down over his legs “Why would you risk it?”

“I met someone more intimidating than you.”

There was a story behind that statement but the day had already proven itself to be a busy one; on any other day, one of the many in his boring existence he would have give it chase. If only to know this ‘someone’. “And if I told you is neither?”

“Strange phenomenon that affects a whole town? If it is not your doing, you must know what is causing it and how to fix it.”

“It’s not me.” It was the truth, but he could bet his entire fortune that nobody would believe him. The sceptical look that Hopper gave him told him not even the psychiatrist could, but that at least he would try to play along.

“Do you know how to fix it?”

“No idea. It doesn’t seem the work of a curse but it escapes my understanding why would this happen. All of it, including your newest patient.”

“I was hoping it was your fault, specially because of her. If you were messing with her to free the library and give you access again to the famous lab, I could do something. I could help her talking to you.They are not normal dreams, are they?”

“No.”

“And you are actually in them?”

“Yes.”

“Does she know you are real in there?”

“What does she tell you?” Without the fight in him, Hopper had gone back to be a therapist and the look on his face made him feel younger than the centuries on his back could permit. “No, she doesn’t. She says it out loud repeatedly.” “It bothers you.” “She also spends a lot of time complaining about you.”

“You have to tell her, please.” The man was concerned about her. Gold knew from her and her ramblings about Hopper and his methods on her dreams, that she was getting increasingly frustrated. Yet, she still hadn’t shared what she wanted Hopper to help her with. And the psychiatrist wasn’t going to share that, too lawful and professional. He was willing, though, to come all the way to him, berate him, question him, demand of him and now plead to him. It must be draining him too, beyond the sleeplessness. “Make her believe. That way whatever is happening can be fixed. Either the source of the problem it’s she or you, if she has anything to do with it, she won’t be able to do anything about it, if she things it isn’t real.”

“I remind you that I was your employer not the other way around. You can’t come in here and make demands.”

“I can. This is unbearable! Not only I have a permanent headache, every single one of my patients complain of the same over and over again. And it hurts them in different ways. I’ve tried but nothing I do helps. Do you know how frustrating that is? Full moon is coming and… The only ones who sleep are you and Belle, if this dreams are real-”

“They are. It’s another realm, in fact.”

“Another realm then, if you can get there. Please just finish this.” He didn’t care about the town at large, or humans in general. He found himself more often than not, in a situation similar to this, blamed for whatever weird event happened in town. Only on some occasion it was actually his doing. However, Whale had said Neal and Emma looked tired, he had thought it was for the little tyke they had to deal with in a new town, with new jobs, but if this affected them too, it at least had to be checked. He needed to know what was happening if nothing else. And perhaps, the painful direct route of asking the god itself for what he had been looking could end this search he found himself for months now. His son could leave when he got what he came for, but it was Gold who acted like that. His son was better and he deserved a normal life. Hopper was right, he just needed to finish it.

“ Are you certain the library will be empty tonight?”

“You will be able to get to the basement without interruptions, the three of you. I can make sure someone distracts the French for long enough.”

“Go home Hopper, it’ll help.”

Night

This time around had been faster, the soil in the garden was soft and there was no need to remove the grass, the shovels were comfortable in weight and Belle had secretly changed her shoes to trekking boots that made it easier to help her companion. He was unusually quiet tonight, not to say he was always chatty. Only once had he talked until she started to get annoyed, mostly because he profusely disagree with anything she said, just for the fun of arguing. But even though he tended to be mercurial, he could also be funny in a darker acid way, that had her laughing freely at jokes she know would draw looks in the real world. So far the theory was that he reflected her deeper feelings, and today just seemed to prove it. With the news her father had brought and the pending decision to go back to Australia, if just temporary, had put a weight on her shoulders. Sadly, what she needed was a distraction from all that, and her imp was in no mood to help.

“That’s becoming easier” she said, trying to get his attention. “Practice makes perfect.”

“I don’t think it is meant for murder, or body disposal. Gardening though...” The rectangle on the garden was obvious, but it wasn’t meant to be perfect just functional. At least the dream required only practicality to end.

Flattening the raising soil, she realised it was the first time she ever did that. “This is unusual.”

“What is?” Everything in this dream. Today. The way you are behaving!

“Everytime the body is out of sight the dream ends.”

“That’s when it ends for you?” His voice sounded deeper, more his real version than hers.

“Isn’t it the end for both of us? After all I’m dreaming you.”

“Right.” He said leaning heavily into his shovel, and he kept reminding her of the real man. It was a pose familiar to her, she was sure he only allowed himself to look that tired when he thought nobody was looking. Softly he added, “Wonder why me.”

It didn’t sound like a question, he didn’t ask for an answer to that. But she had the same question and hadn’t come to a satisfactory answer while pondering it awake, perhaps here she could answer it through him.“No idea.”

“Really? No theories of why it’s me here every night. Nothing to do with the tales of the beast of Storybrooke.”

“My job are tales among others, it would be impossible to believe wholeheartedly in all of them.”

“Ah, so why do you keep casting me as a murderer?”

“I do not.” If it was about casting, she had cast herself in the lead role. “You are here to help.”

“Oh, so I’m a henchman.” He said with a light in his eyes. “Right… that’s new. Have you met Dove?” The smile in his face was teasing. “He is my henchman and looks like it to.” He turned to look to the freshly made burial, and with a self deprecating tone he continued, “Don’t know how an old, crippled man can be much muscle power”.

“Your limp is not always present here. And, you do realise that for this pit you did most of the work? “

“After a month of this merciless fitness program something had to give. My grandson certainly thanks you.”

“As if, it’d be great if Henry benefited from this, regardless how dubious that makes his grandfather. But, nothing here changes what happens out there?” She knew if was not common to be as conscious as she was within her dreams, and she had taken proper advantage of it. Being able to summon objects and change clothes, and wishing quite adamantly that no animal she was afraid of appeared while in the nightly task, she had thought she could bring her mother here, talk to her one last time. But it never happened. She knew this was its own bubble, never to influence reality not even by giving her hope.

“What if he could?”

“I don’t think writing these dreams for or telling them to a toddler is appropriate. Murder and all included.” she joked only to see the intent look in the eyes of her accomplice. “Ok, let’s go along with it. Let’s say somehow you are Mr Gold, regardless of scaly shining skin, flickering limp, and reptilian eyes.” at that said eyes widen a bit, as if he hadn’t been aware of their appearance. “Oh yes, I’ve noticed. If whatever happens here affects day life. How did you get here?”

“I could always fall asleep in the sofa at my house but unless I want my ankle to kill me the following morning, I just go to bed.”

“Smartass.” He laughed at that. “It’s good to know you didn’t decided to infiltrate my dreams, I’d have to inquire after method and intention in that case.” The mere idea seemed like an invasion of privacy, but then, if this wasn’t her dream. Where were they? She hadn’t recognise the cabin they always appeared at, not the forest that surrounded it, or the lake half a mile out to the north. Looking around her she notice for the first time the beauty of it. Even in the dark of a crescent moon, the vibrant green colour of the leaves and bushes could be seen. “ When does your dream end?”

“At dawn, right at the point you expect the sun to appear in the horizon but not after. When the sky is changing colours some cold some warm all at war.”

“That’s… good.” Why did that sounded good? “It’s always night when I’m here. No light.” A chill ran up her back, noticing that the wind was picking up and they had stood long enough to lose the warm gained while digging. “Should we go back to the cabin? I don’t like to be so close it.” She said glancing towards the fresh grave. “I’ve never had to look at it for too long.”

He nodded, walking just a couple steps ahead enough to get the door first. “Do you believe in dreams?” he said, his hand still on the nob.

“What do you mean by believe?”

She could tell it took him a moment to decide what to say, but the moment he did it was clear, with a faint show of irritation he answered, “Anything other than explaining them as a chemical reaction produced by your brain.”

“Is Mr Gold not a pragmatic man?

“One more than the other.” He opened the door, moving to the side and with a tiny bow of his head. “Ladies first.”

“Before this month I used not to dream. Always wondered after what I read and heard about them, people tend to give them high significance. So, can't say I believe or not yet”

Belle stepped inside the cabin frowning at the darkness and heading to turn the lights on, even though she was certain neither of them turn them off when they headed out earlier. Since this was the first time she had the opportunity to explore she headed towards the farthest door opposite to the entrance. Her companion seemed unsure of what to do pacing slowly around the small living area. Letting him to his exploration she cross the door.

“Belle?" His voice sounded far away. "Miss French!" It was screamed and coming closer. Why was he so far away? There had been a scream, a loud one. Turning around taking in her surroundings Belle can only see forest, and it didn't make sense. nothing did. Feeling tears falling across her face, the image comes back to her. The room had been empty, no more than a couple of meters squared. In it laid another man, injured, dead and pretty familiar to her. And then she was here.

How?

There had been a sense of trepidation since he found himself in that room with Miss French. A simple potion was needed to help him relax enough to sleep once they got in the lab with both Viktor, Jefferson and Henry. The lab and the dungeons well fitted to contain most kinds of experiments, from magic, to science and the mix of both. Due to the nature of it, there were compartments fitted to rest in between trials or in the occasional long process. And even though he could had left Henry with the Nolans, he felt wrong being to far away from the boy. He asked Jefferson to come and the man was as always over enthusiastic, perhaps seeing as a trial run of what it will be his life in a couple of months.

Despite knowing that for once there was a whole crowd keeping an eye on his well being (or at least the state of his body), or perhaps because of it, a restlessness had settled inside of him. Once the woman had claimed today’s dream was not going to plan, he knew to keep his guard up, however he hadn’t expected what happened after. He had noticed earlier the few changes in wardrobe that she sported while digging but this realm had different rules, and she was adamant that this was her dream, she could shape it to her will and he had been too distracted to call it for what it was. After she open that door, her scream send shivers down his back looking in her direction he only caught her silhouette disappearing. He recognised, after all he used it once upon a time before coming to the world ‘without magic’. Looking into the room he found the same man they’ve been dealing with for a month, admittedly in worst shape than most days but nothing that could motivate that reaction. Not now.

If she had the ability to jump between place in this realm, it was likely that she didn’t know to control it. After all, he had been here all this time by her side and she had never done such a thing. Morpheus would be able to easily locate them after her move, e needed to find her. Regardless if the confrontation with the king of dreams was something he’d likely avoid until he held the spell in his hands. Going to their tools, the last object she had been in contact for a considerable amount of time, he cast a spell to figure the general direction she headed. After all, she couldn't have gone too far.

It took him a while trekking in the forest surrounding the cabin to find a small earth path in between the trees, where the roots of the same were easier to see. It lead to a small clearing where she was. “Belle?” He called her name softly to not startled her. Walking to stand next to her he tentatively put a hand over her arm, he felt the strange impulse to comfort her but there wasn’t much he could do at the moment. He could use a little bit of magic now, after all they wouldn’t be alone for long now, so he magicked a jacket and gave it to her. She nodded her thanks. “What happened?”

“Didn’t you see?”

He did, it still didn’t explain her need to get away from it. A need so big she had done something she’d never done before. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” he knew the tone was wrong, and not entirely the one he wanted to use but apart from accepting his presence she kept going inside herself. It was better now that she kept aware of where they were. “At least twice the man has been in a similar state to that before.” He was being honest, at least.

Slowly she raised her eyes to him with confusion, “That’s completely different.”

“How so?”

“Is a different person!”

There it is, she was seeing someone else. “Who was he?”

“Stop this please, you know him because I know him.” She said heading towards the place he came from.

“I don’t, in all honesty. All I saw was the same man we buried all these days. It seems this is not true for you.” Her attention was in exploring the edge of the clearing. “So, help me understand, who is the man back there?” he asked trying to get her attention, it would be difficult to find her again if she transported herself.

“Gaston.”

“Boyfriend?” he ventured, the man didn’t look like a brother or other close family plus she had moved recently. It could be him Hopper had been talking about.

“Ex-fiancé.”

“Right.” She looked back at him, and he noticed he spoke aloud. “That’s- That’d be a shock, to see him like that.” It wasn’t only that, whether she believe it or no, the man was real. Had been for as long as both of them kept on coming here. Why were the three of them in this? “I’m sorry.” he added as an afterthought. If their visit to this realm had no end in sight, and there was already a visitor dead, whatever had kill him was likely to come to them eventually, after a month of playing the game was coming to an end. They needed to move to a better place, it wouldn’t do to be hunted and be standing in a small clearing in an unknown forest. “Miss French, we have to move.”

“Is it wrong that I don't want to go back there?” she said.“I don’t want to see him like that.” she added softly, looking into the forest were he had come from. She had found the slight earth path leading into the trees.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to.”

“We can’t leave him like that. I don’t want to but we should.”

“I’m not digging another hole tonight, and he is dangerous.”

“He is dead.” she said flatly.

“Exactly, he is dead and he is here.” And he was still too close for his liking. “That simply does not happen. Many a thing with appetite for human flesh hides in the corners of this place, within minutes we could be surrounded, specially since death reeks in this realm.” Nothing died here, everything just changed shape.

“Realm? It is my dream, no monster will come out that I don’t wish for it.” She moved into the path carefully avoiding the roots jutting out.

“And if t is a nightmare.” Going back was possibly the worst thing they could do, but he needed her to see it. Stopping right inside the line of trees the sound of the wind lowered and other sounds made the forest seem full of live, like never before.

“We are doing right by him, again”. It was said more to encourage herself to move further into the path, but a loud growl froze her.

“No, we won’t. Listen to that, they have smell him.” and they were many, for the first growl kept being answered by smaller ones of different tone, and if the sound could be trusted, from multiple directions. “Humans don’t walk in this land, is dangerous for them.” He grabbed her hand and started to go back to the clearing.

“Then what am I if not human?”

Circling the clearing much like she had done just moments before he looked for a new path. “You are special. Unusual.” Keeping his use of magic low, in case they could follow them like that, was really frustrating.

“If humans can’t be here how do people dream?”

Before he could find any way out, Belle walked ahead of him, pulling him on still holding his hand, leading him towards one of the biggest trees in sight.

“They are… when they are here you could call them ghost-like.” she kept walking straight to the tree with a determination that stilled his tongue on the possible crashing, instead he focussed on explaining further on, “if attacked they can wake up and nothing has changed, they are neither harmed nor do they benefit from the dream.” At the last moment she sidestepped the tree, continuing sideways as if in a narrow passage. He does the same, turning just so to keep in touch with her, if this was a passage it was best to make sure they both went out of it together. “You’ve been digging with me, deny that you woke up tired. Not just tired from restless sleep, tired as in all you’ve been doing here your body is going through it too.”

The uneven ground that so far had characterised the forest was gone. Just after noticing the change, they emerged from the trees still walking sideways into a field walled in rocks. In the horizon started a series of hills. “Whatever these creatures are… when I wake up I’ll see what they’ve done?”

“If you survive them and that’s hard even with my powers, then yes.”

Keeping with the direction they had being walking, they entered the field. “What are you?

“What am I?” he said, making his voice higher giving her a clue of that which wasn’t human about him. “That’s unexpectedly rude from you.”

“Are you human?”

“Partly.”

“Is the other part why you shine?” she asked, it could have been in jest but her eyes held true curiosity, still...“Shine?”

“Your skin…” she said vaguely gesturing with her hand towards his general direction.

“That… is part of a rather old curse.” A story only his son knew, for everyone else he had blamed the imagination on mortals and their inability to report objectively, specially about non-human creatures. Who said fairies looked like in those animated pictures? The doing of a young girl back in the turn of the century had cemented that image in modern imagination. At least before they had been more creative! “True enough the colour has to do with that part, usually scales are darker, and sometimes duller in a cursed human.”

“Can your powers help Gaston?”

“There’s nothing to be done. Nothing you or I can change, the dead do not rise.” The latest attempt he had witness was by Viktor, the man was as obsessed with it as all those that attempted it before him. None had a good ending, and Gold had been there to see each spectacular failure. It was better for everyone if such a feat remain unachievable. “Did you love him?”

“No. I think my father did, the idea of him as his son, and somewhere along the line but before it was too late I realised that that wasn’t reason enough for marrying him.” there was sadness in her voice, she was mourning but what? It didn’t seem she was fond of the engagement, “What other things can you do?” she asked obviously changing the topic.

“I only have to follow three rules, everything else is free land. Depending of course, on the land I find myself in. In this place I can only influence my own being, like getting rid of the limp to dig better, instead of magicking a pit.”

She smiled at that, “That would have saved a lot of time.” It seemed she was ready to drop the conversation, her mind probably going back to the cabin. The growls had muted once they got out of the forest, but Gold couldn’t help the need to turn back and check nothing had found them. After a moment though, her face light up with interest “Ok, listen to this. If all of this is real, how come you limp in the real world?”

Apparently this was turning into an extended inquiry, if he had the heart to shut her out he would have done it. As it was, he clamped down the voice in his head warning him of anyone so curios, and managed a smile that only to the keen eye seemed strained, “I don't like to draw attention, especially of other magical beings. I only use enough magic for the glamour.” sending her way a pointed look he waved over himself, “The skin, the eyes.”

“Is that how you looked before the curse? Did you have magic?”

She was sharp, not that it surprised him. It was one of the aspects he could admire about her, and that he had noticed while she dealt with the townsfolk. It could become a problem if they ever found themselves at odds. Knowing himself, he thought that would eventually happen. “Close enough. Of course I have to keep in mind what is appropriate clothing now. As for the second one, if I did I wasn’t aware of it.” He hadn’t been aware of a great many things back then. The weight of war, man’s capacity for cruelty and for standing pain. He got to know all of that eventually before his own magic and ancestry, but even in the dark he had had a good life, he and his son, a flimsy roof and less than enough food considered.

“Were you already near Maine, back then?”

The ludicrous though surprised a laugh out of him, which he quickly tried to keep quiet. “As far as one possibly can be.” He knew for a fact, it was likely that back then the area was nothing but forest. At edge by the questioning into his past, he took the opportunity to turn the tables, after all, it was evident by now that she was the cause for all this upheaval. Did she know it? “Storybrooke is a good town for new beginnings, and renewing identities. Don’t you agree?”

“It’s welcoming.” the way her hands clench by her side told him his intention had been too clear, but she had avoided an answer to his real question. Belle liked subtlety in her worlds of fiction and frankness in words, another difference between her and the town she had come to live in.

“Why did you come to Storybrooke? Surely, you could have enjoyed and thrived in the city, a small town can become dull after a short time.”

“A relentless friend who lives in town? A break from the city and its problems? All of the above… It was always meant to be temporal.”

“What’s changed?”

“I’m not sure. There’s another reason I moved here and it’s been a failure, and yet today I was… confronted with the idea of going back home.” they had finally reached the hill at the edge of the field and the sounds that filled the forest had yet to appear here. Belle headed towards the top, to look what was beyond. He hoped they still had time before something bad happened. “It felt wrong, the whole idea of going away.”

“It’s not time yet, then.” the pain in his ankle was coming back, as a numbness that made stepping a weird experience. It didn't bode well, to lose his magic so soon. Was it soon? It seemed as if they were being hunted before, now he thought, they might still be, but the hunter was waiting for them to tire.

“Look!” Belle said from the summit looking forward. It sounded like good news. “We should go inside. They might not find us there.” stepping beside her, he noticed she was pointing at a small cottage around fifty meters downhill, there was light coming from its windows. He nodded, and both descended. It was clear it was small but apart from two tiny windows visible from the side they were approaching, nothing more could be said about it, the night still in full bloom made it hard to see much detail.

“Oh, It’s very pretty.” there was a feeling in the back of his head that kept distracting him. Something was familiar about this place and while he took his time going around it, he could here Belle inside talking to him. “It is larger than it looks from outside. There’s two cots, do you think it is possible to sleep within a dream?” for a moment while he stood under the door frame looking at her exploring inside the land left his feet. There was enough light coming from the hearth and a candle in the only table. It was exactly as it had been all those years ago, except for the company. But the warmth that grew inside of him at the sight of the place only grew as the woman carefully and enthusiastically got to the only surviving object of that past. “And there’s even a spinning wheel.” she was looking at him with a small but real smile and his feet seemed to follow it on their own accord, until he was inside the building. “We could wait here, while those things roam outside.” something in his expression or his silence had called her attention, she probably assumed he didn’t agree with her. “There’s plenty of space. Are you alright?”

“This place… How is it here?” So far everything that they had seen was either new or familiar to her. Never to him, suddenly he felt threatened and an uneasy feeling started to crawl up his back, the same that had bother him in the field. They were being hunted.

“Where are we?”

“My home.” He looked her in the eyes, not wanting to put anything in words but he knew he failed at making her understand his fear at the situation.

“I know people love to exaggerate, but I’ve been told you life in a castle-like mansion…” she had been trying to hard to put a positive spin to almost everything they had experienced during this night, but he could hear the strain in her tone.

“I do. A three-storey building can inspire that description. This was before all that.” He allowed himself to come further into the small cottage. “Before the scales. Be careful of gossip though, a small town can become the underworld itse-” loud footfalls could be heard from outside and a young man ran in, closing the door quickly behind him. “Neal?”

---

With his hands still on the closed door and trying to catch his breath, Neal look up to them with a hint of surprise in them, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“How are you here?” asked Gold, who was now in between both of them. Belle tried to listen for whatever it was that had Neal running like that, but there was only silence around them.

“A potion, like the one you used on her.” said the young man looking at her. “After a couple of days of neither of you waking up, I had to come and find out what happened.”

“Excuse me, what potion?” she asked. Did he said days?

“It was for him, but Emma collected it and apparently she shared it with you in one of Miss Lucas outings.” Gold answered walking nearer with a contrite look in his face. “It was a mistake, she’s still not very familiar with that side of my business.”

Apparently there were more than just curses and magical powers in this world of him. “So, you brought me here.”

“Technically yes, but it should have worked only once and never meant to completely bring you here.” A dreaming potion, then.

“It didn’t work out like that.” The first time in her life she dreamed and it was because of an accident with a potion, and she had gotten trapped in it for days on end.

“No.” He echoed softly. He never seemed to enjoy the dreams, admittedly he spend them doing hard work. Which at the beginning had been amusing if only for the contrast with the real man. But if he had been that man, it wouldn’t make sense for him to do any of that on purpose. It had been a mistake, that affected both and he was as sorry for herself as for himself.

“Were you intending on being there in Emma dreams?” The implication annoyed her, it didn’t seem right to accuse the man of that.

“No. Believe me son, I had no intention of visiting this place.” She had wanted to answer to Neal, he was crossing a line and this was his father. He could imagine the relationship was complicated but still. She was expecting something different, the sorrow and pleading tone of the reply shut her up. This man, that in both of his versions looked unreachable most of the time, looked tired, the sadness in his expression difficult to pass as something else.

“You have been lying to me then.” there was no surprise in Neal’s voice when he continued. “You were never going to help me”

“That’s not what I meant. The potion effects shouldn’t have involved me in any way.”

“You always do this, don’t you? You trick people into thinking you are working for them and then you are only working for you. All that business with Morpheus’ child and the spell you promised me, it is all a lie. You never intended to do it. Why are you really here?” Belle knew this wasn’t a conversation in which she should be present. The circumstances though, forced her to remain there and she couldn’t help pay attention to both men, the more loud and angry one became the other one became more pleading and defensive.

“I never planned to come here, this is the last place where the spell would be. There’s no reason for me to be here.”

“And yet you are here with her, thanks to the potion you made. I bet the spell doesn’t do what you said, knowing you it will grant you power in this land, one of the few that is problematic for you.” The intensity in Neal’s eyes was off, a speck of cruelty. He looked young.

“You don’t believe that, please son. You know I’ve listen to you. I’ve been trying to do the right thing, even when it pains me.” If his skin was normal, she’d bet his knuckles would be white from the strength he was closing his fist, as if holding himself long enough to argue a defence. “And that includes giving you a normal lifetime with your family.”

“You want me to be there for you, regardless of the pain it would cause me to see my family die.” That’s when she noticed it, the anger and cruelty mixed at once. Neal was happy with his family, she saw them at the dinner, the way he looked at Emma and little Henry. That Neal had no reasons for this emotion, and he definitely looked older than this man. “You want me to become you and what? By then when I’m all darkness inside, you’ll give me your grand kingdom?”

“Son…” She was sure the man didn’t want to look weak in front of her, it was obvious he was that proud. But it was just as obvious the words had hurt him considerably, perhaps he had thought about it at some point. He closed his eyes, as if seeking focus. It was enough, she didn’t want to be there for more of that.

“Who are you?”

“What do you mean?” It could have been meant for either of them, and it was the young man’s reply that told her she had been right. He wasn’t Neal even though he looked like him.

“You are not Neal.” Gold’s head spun towards her at that, but thankfully he remained silent.

“Why would you say that? Do you believe him?” he said gesturing widely with his arm towards Gold. “He’s not trustworthy, he will stab you in the back before you know it.” His eyes locked on her, and perhaps their cruel light was sharper at that. “After all, legends have been told for generations about him, deals with the devil and prices too high to pay.” Adapting a mocking and higher voice, much alike the first days of her dream version of Gold, he continued. “Let me introduce you to Rumplestiltskin.” A smirk appeared on his face. A face that was starting to look like another’s, similar but by now evidently not Neal’s. “If I were you I’d go far away from him.” Remembering the part he should have been playing he composed himself before adding, “My mistake was coming back.”

“I’ve made mistakes, it’s been a long life. I’d love to life it with you by my side, but not at the price of your soul.” He still couldn’t see it. It seemed a feature of this place, it had taken her according to him a whole month to see Gaston.

“Unbelievable!” The laugh of the young man was too loud for the small space.

“Neal wouldn’t say any of that. You look younger than him too. Who are you?”

“Oh, you are stubborn.” He seemed to consider something and asked, “If I’d ask you to leave, would you do it?” Belle just shook her head. “No? If you insist then the name is Morpheus.” Within a blink the young man, Morpheus, changed clothes, going for a long night dark coat. “And you are both trespassing. I’ll admit it, I’m impressed. For a human like you to summon a whole building from someone else’s memories is quite an achievement.” He was smiling towards her, sharp and friendless. “You even recognised me. But you’ve proved what I wanted to know. As amusing as you two have been. Imp, take it from me, you’ll regret keeping that deal with Baelfire.” With the simple sentence he dismissed the man he had been insulting, and his focus was on her. While he was having fun with Gold, Rumplestiltskin, or whatever his name was, he wasn’t planning on that for her. She raised her head and promised to herself not be intimidated by him. “And you, child. I’ve given you enough time.” The threat startled her companion into action, it took Morpheus a wave of his hand to freeze him in place. “Don’t even think it, spiky ears. Your magic is already too strained.” He looked back at her, “Answer me one thing, child. Was it all you ever hoped?”

“I don’t understand… What was-”

“You don’t understand… right. She said you were clever, brilliant even. I meant your inheritance, your claim for my kingdom.”

“I gave up my inheritance, my father gave it to Gaston.”

“Not that one. Listen! My kingdom’s share. The fool though he was looking for immortality, I admit you did a good job with him. You convinced him to do the dirty work and think it was his idea, it took me a considerable amount of persuasion to finally be convinced he was telling the truth in that regard.” Pointing at the still frozen man he added. “Once he proved useless you got him.”

Apparently Gaston had come face to face with this being’s anger, she couldn’t explain how such a simple man had drawn the attention of a god. But it was definitely the wrong kind of attention to attract. “Gaston was not a good man but whatever you did to him, he didn’t deserve it.”

“Of course you’d say that, that’s why I had you help me. He was awake, didn’t you know? Everytime you buried him or set him in the lake, he became a little more willing to talk.” She felt her face becoming red, of shame or anger she wasn’t sure. This being had her torture a man day after day. The pressure in her ears made it hard for her to listen to the rest. “He was here just like you two. But I think you humans called that a coma, there in your world. It was never a coma, never quite a pause but a long dragging ending.”

She was trying hard not to give into the impulse to lower her head with everything that was running in her head. In the chaos of her thoughts she noticed something and that kept her going. “He never felt asleep driving.”

“It shines through, that cleverness of yours. No. Not by himself anyway.”

“Why did you do it? Why are you doing this?” It was all too much, too much time and effort. Why had them doing that to the man? Why make him suffer so?

“Why? Because even though she left me, she was my child. My only child! And you killed her. The worst thing is that she gave her immortality away for you. You took her away from me twice. That first time, she said she loved you too much to see you die. She could never see that you were too much like them not to be driven by ambition. Did you get curious why she didn’t let you come here? What was she hiding? Did you then find out about this world and decided you wanted it? The ability to shape realities?”

“I’ve never killed anyone. Who are you talking about?”

“Colette was the name she chose. You don’t deserve to know her true name. She wanted you to have a choice, be human and mortal or be part of this realm as my grandchild, and third in line to the throne. But there’s a hunger in your kind, insidious and ravenous. Even though my daughter was a mortal, it was a long wait, wasn’t it? So you thought you could sneak here, and make yourself ruler?”

“How dare you?” Her voice was breaking and she could feel tears falling. Somehow her body had understood the situation before her mind; there was a slowness to the words he just said as she repeat them in her head trying to make sense of them. He was there looking at her, all the anger and cruelty she had seen, directed at her with great sadness mixed in between. He was breathing hard, just like her. It was the sharp emptiness in her chest that awoke her. “How can you suggest, even think, that I had anything to do with my mother’s death. I loved her and I’ve missed her every second since then. I’ve wondered why she couldn’t make it, I was in the car too, she could have survived too. Every moment I’ve asked why her!”

“Liar! You’ll die today. No more humans in my kingdom, they all can thank you for that. You are all wretched creatures. You’ll be the last meal of my pets for a long time.”

“Wait!” Rumplestiltskin said, trying to move in between but whatever glitch in Morpheus’s spell that allowed him to talk hadn’t been enough to allow him to move. “We can prove she’s innocent.”

“I won’t allow you to trick me.”

“That won’t be a problem. You are actually the only one that can acquire this proof, you can’t doubt its validity since it’s your job’s result. If you are convinced by it as I believe you’ll be, let us go back. I know you don’t trust humans, and I understand but as bland, idiotic or cruel they can be not all are the same. Belle is your grandchild and your daughter loved her, if just for that give her a chance to prove her innocence.”

“No tricks Rumplestiltskin, or I make this longer than either your sanity or darkness can stand.”

He turned as much as he could his head towards her a question in his eyes he didn’t make. “You were able to access my memory to bring this place.” With a cold tone he address the god. “I take it then you can do that too.”

“Undoubtedly.”

That’s it! “Can you access memories the owner can not? Like amnesia.” She asked.

“That’s different. This is a copy of Rumplestiltskin's first home and it is based on his memories not on the reality that inspired it. Most of it is similar enough, but the hearth there is from later on in his life, around the time Baelfire was born. You need the other person to remember to access their memories. If they can’t you can’t.”

“And if it wasn’t natural amnesia?” Rumplestiltskin asked, pointedly not looking at her direction. “Can you lock someone else’s memories?”

“It’s unusual but possible. I haven’t done such with her. What does this questioning have to do with anything?” Morpheus replied impatient.

“It was a car crash. It was natural.” She added.

Still not looking at her he explain “Your mother came to talk with him after she gave up her mortality. Never in your life you had access to this realm, not even in the capacity common to humans. It is possible she could do this too.”

“Why?” It made no sense.

“You are her child. If she did this, could you get to the memories of the crash?”

“I would see them but not unlock them.” The young man looked at her, all the feelings still visible in his look, but locked away brewing and not longer in the surface. “If what I see is convincing enough and you live, you still won’t remember until you learn how to undo her work, if she did it. What it’d be? Remember that if you did kill her I could see that too.”

“Are you sure about this?” Belle asked her companion.

“It is our best option. You can do this.”

It didn’t make sense, she wasn’t the one doing anything. And yet turning to face Morpheus, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Do it.”

The headache started at the back and advanced to the ears feeling akin to high pressure, every sound muted at the same time the pain increased and expanded inside her skull. She wanted to not react, she didn’t want this being to see her flinch. So she focussed in his eyes, which obviously looking in her direction were nevertheless lost, not entirely seeing her. The eerie feeling of such a look help her to stand the pain as it finally hit her forehead and lowered to the back of her eyes. She knew she wouldn’t keep awake for much longer, the corners of her sight going dark. And she couldn’t be sure if he had indeed given her a chance to proof her innocence or if this was him killing her. But she was sure she wouldn’t forget the moment he saw her again, and the sadness in those eyes didn’t belong in a face so young.

---

“Gold!”

“Finally!”

The place he awoke in was entirely too familiar, dark and with a faint smell of chemicals, the lab in the dungeons was just the same as the moment we went to sleep. His company was apparently just the same, and he had to admit even just to himself that it was nice to see the pair of eccentrics again.

“Why does it feel like I’m made of stone? What did your machines do Viktor?”

“What did they do? What were you doing?” asked Jefferson with a mix of worry and indignation so balanced in his voice that made Gold certain he had been practicing for the future child of his.

“It’s been… almost 60 hours since you went to sleep.” answered the doctor going back to the machines now that he was awake.

“Henry?”

“He enjoyed the tea party I prepared.” said proudly the jumper. “But his father came the following morning to collect him.”

“Neal has been worried. Specially since you passed the two days mark.” the sound of typing accompanied the comment.

“If it weren’t because Mr French was starting to lose it at the dinner…” said Jefferson with a role of his eyes. “Emma and Neal had been taking turns checking on him, you and Henry.”

“Is she alright?” there was no use in giving details, if he had been asleep for so long so had she, and probably with her father staying in the dinner everyone in town would now who he meant.

“She probably woke up at the same time as you, I’ll call.” offered Viktor.

“Or you can go and wake the town’s own sleepy beauty.” he had to roll his eyes at that, which only made the young man laugh.

---

After almost three days spent sleeping, three days in which her father had drove the Lucasses into a frenzy and almost given himself a heart attack, it had taken weeks for them to find some sense of normalcy. The women had been lovely, taking care of and distracting her father but the three of them had taken to be too protective of her and that had started to drain her. Neal and Emma had been great with her father as well and they had taken to drive him around showing him all the nooks and crannies of town, a knowing look from Emma that told her to take that time for herself.

And she needed it, all that had happened had shattered her vision of what was normal, she had spend more time that was probably good revisiting her childhood and her memories of her mother, to see if anything unusual was there. It took her awhile too, to understand the part of Gaston in all of it, if Morpheus had been right the man had known about her mother and had killed her. Thankfully it didn’t took much effort to convince her father to stay longer, of only for him to miss the burial. He didn’t need to know the man he loved as a son had killed his wife, but she wouldn’t let him go to the ceremony as petty as it made her. Maurice had taken the extension as an opportunity to convince her to come back, even if he claimed he had understood her decision in the past he argued he couldn’t do much from afar if something happened again. The question about leaving was small but had ingrained itself in her mind, she needed something to kill that small doubt. After all she had said to her father to not hope much in that regard.

And yet, amidst all of that she hadn’t seen her friend since the incident. The store had been closed for a week and then she hadn’t had the time to go in. Neal said he was fine when she asked but that was all she knew. The experience hadn’t been good for him either, even if it wasn’t Neal who confronted him, she had seen how much the accusations had hurt him, and how much he believed them.

That day her father was chatting animatedly with Mrs Lucas and with both completely distracted she took the chance to go to the pawnshop.

The bell at the door announced her entrance. The man appeared a couple of minutes later from the backroom. “Hey, Good morning.”

He smiled as soon as he recognised her, “Good morning, Miss French.”

“Are we going back to that?” she raised an eyebrow for emphasis, in her mind the dream had erased the need for that kind of formality. “You can call me Belle if you like.”

“Alright Belle.” he said stepping in front of the counter hands over the head of his cane. “What brings you here today?”

“You haven’t visited the dinner or library in a while, and considering that the dreams are over… I though we might have a chat pending.” she hadn’t been sure what she wanted to talk about but seeing him standing in front of her looking down at his hands, she knew.

“I though it better to give you some time, to process everything that happened. And there was your father…”

“I understand. I needed that time. But I wanted to make a deal with you, Rumplestiltskin, if interested of course.” Better to make sure they were in the same page to treat everything that happen as real, the use of his true name would do it.

“You wanted to talk business.” His smile became smaller, but he looked up to her again. It was easier for him to do so when he close off a little. Did he expect her to agree with Morpheus on his opinion of him? “What deal do you have in mind?”

“I still don’t remember and you are still looking for my mother’s spell.”

“But, you see, a deal is possible when one party has something the other one wants, and we know I can’t give you your memories nor do you know where is the spell.”

“True. Yet, we are each other's best chance at finding what we look for, you can teach me how to control my powers, and I offer you my help in your search. She was my mother, I might have a better chance than your rock band members.” She hoped he understood what she was saying, with a smile she asked, “What do you say Rumple?

A brief war passed through his eyes, and how did he became so infamous when he was so easy to read? “They do look the part, don’t they?” The smile returned to his face, “I’d be glad to continue being your henchman.”

There were too many reasons to stay.

#RCIJ 2020 #Joylee56

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originaldetectivesheep · 7 years ago

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A Life of Riley Part 2: The Building That Had A Grudge Against Furniture Or Something ch 5

Chapter 4

If you were desperately looking for an upside in this stupid goddamned mess that we had gotten ourselves into, like we were, the fact that Riley showed up with the blueprints and the coveralls and an explanation before the backhoe started tearing up the lawn and the sidewalk and half the garage access would count as a small blessing. It was a real, real, real small one, though, because we barely had time to get changed and get down to the machine room before the heavy construction equipment started off on a tear practically right under our windows. "Riley, is that your bulldozer?" I asked, pulling my hair back into a ponytail and tucking the end into the collar of my cheap gray jumpsuit. "Because I thought we were just going to be working here in the machine room – why is the whole front of the condos getting torn up?"

"Partly," Riley said, spreading out a large-scale architectural blueprint of the complex across a wilting half-ping-pong table that Remy and Yuping had salvaged from somewhere, "because without a big-ass distraction out front, people might notice the stuff we're loading down in here, partly because we need to reuse the culvert that the stream we're moving is routed through right now, and partly because daylighting that dumb creek that got buried for this place makes the perfect cover story for all the other construction we're going to be doing. Just think about it for a second: this place is losing money hand over fist, and what gets all those hipsters that hang around the architecture school wishing they had the math scores to get in or the daddy's-money to major in urban planning wetter faster than daylighting every random inch-wide open sewer anyone can dig up on a map from a hundred years ago? It's exactly the kind of twee-ass friggin thing that developers would lean into to save a place like this, and they're going to be dragging in so much crap to build up their Disneyland landscaped storm drain that people won't pay any attention to a few more crates into the machine room." Riley traced out the proposed daylighting course, and marked how it connected to the existing culvert – a culvert that as far as I could tell was running nearly under our feet here.

"Okay," I said, "and if they're going to get a nice water feature out of it I can see why the developers would be paying for it, but there was something else there – why the culvert? What do we need that for?" There was a clatter behind me, and I turned around to see Leo bent over, breathing hard, a regiment's worth of picks and sledgehammers and stuff with their heads on the floor and their handles leaned on his stooped shoulders; behind him, Carolína was staggering down the stairs with an armload of what looked like crowbars and mortar-spreaders.

"You're not going to like this, Saj," Riley said through a grim-set jaw, "but this one is going to be friggin complicated. I thought when we first took this that it was going to be another hyperfold, like that accident with the disnub phlogistihedron or whatever that Carolína got stuck in last term – and that some idiot was running around on a collapsed infinite lattice and it only looked like someone was messing around with the state space. In that case, it woulda been simple: you get someone into it, someone like you or Remy who can throw a punch if they gotta, and then mark out the anchor points, use the dislocator to reachieve continuity, and the friggin hyperfold will unfold itself – three-space doesn't want to get crumpled up like that, so if you just get the right quantum hammer out, shit will tend to fix itself." I nodded, but tentatively; I remembered that stupid thing with Riley's old wackadoodle roommate and his impossible origami polyhedron, and how Carolína had gotten stuck outside of reachable three-dimensional space for most of three days when she went back over – and now that was supposed to have been the easy, simple, normal case of whatever Riley was now considering to be 'complicated'. This was going to suck – even worse than it did already.

"From everything that I've been able to pick up around here, though," Riley said, tossing a welding glove hand to hand to vaguely imply the room and the condo complex around us, "there's nothing folded up here. Now, that doesn't mean there's no fold – all it means is that I can't judge the fold, which points to a fold, if there is one, which is still the simplest friggin explanation, that involves the fucking q axis instead of or in addition to some subset of x-y-z that isn't the full set and thus detectable by normal three-space physics tools." Riley snorted and threw the glove onto the table. "So at a minimum we have, in that case, an agency that either can make a fold in q, which we can't, or an agency that's gotten stuck in a maybe-accidental fold in q and is twiddling its goddamned thumbs there eating people's microwaves." Riley turned back to me; probably Leo and Carolína had already gotten this spiel while I was struggling with how these coveralls were cut in the hips. "I'm doing a poll: what do you call an agent that can move in q?"

I gave Riley a look. "Everyone moves in q – we're all moving in q right now."

"We're moving along q, and that makes all the difference in the world." Riley picked up the glove again; there was some kind of a beeping upstairs, like someone was backing a heavy truck in. "We move along q through hyperspace with all the rest of the x-y-z complex; I'm talking an agent, potentially an intelligent agent, that moves in time like we can go left-right forward-back up-down. If something is taking the lamps and couches, rather than them falling through holes in three-space – which, I remind you, don't exist as such because whatever fold there is or isn't here isn't hitting all three of our normal axes – then that's per se a higher-order intelligent being. Not more intelligent, not superman-superior – but something that's as different from us and as alien to our way of thinking as we are to a goddamned pencil sketch."

"So you do think there's a ghost or a god or a demon here," I said, not sure what to believe.

Riley shrugged. "Call it what you like; that's what I was asking for. But a rose by any other name would still got its needs: and that's what we need the culvert for, the culvert and these tools – and Remy and Yuping, when they can start getting goddamned down here with the dislocator assemblies." Riley bent over, squinting around and up the stairs; the guys obviously still hadn't unloaded those parts from the truck or whatever.

"I'm sorry, Riley," I said again, "but I still don't follow."

Riley gave up on the stairs and sauntered back to the parabola valleys of the dying ping-pong table. "So after I reasoned out that we had a probably higher-order entity here, something with agency in q, I did some thinking; you should never, when you run into a new observation or a new principle in science, assume that just because this is the first time somebody noticed it, it's the first time in the history of the goddamned universe that it's happened. So I thought, okay, we've got a higher-order agency here, and we obviously can't credit everything in folklore because humans are huge liars all the damn time and stories spread, but what do people pretend to know about these kinds of intelligences? Gods or demons or spirits or ghosts or what the hell ever all over the world, you strip off all the paint and stage dressing, and what do you got? That you can make deals with them under the right circumstances, and they like it when you give them stuff. Offerings, sacrifices; there's always a way to cut a deal. So what I'm betting is that whatever's stuck in this fold we can't find or unfold here will respond within those parameters once we get it nailed down, and that we can offer it a better deal than it got from whatever orisha got evicted to put up your little party pad."

"You're going to renegotiate the demon's contract?" I asked; this was if anything getting less clear. "How? With what?"

"How, yeah, I'm still working on that," Riley said, scratching at a stray neck pimple. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." A super reassuring sentence from someone who'd just admitted the likelihood of higher-dimensional intelligences. "But with what, that's fuckin' easy. Everything back to the book of goddamned Genesis is on board: these things want live flesh instead of dead planks. There's no way this thing's going to keep eating its last contract's endtables and TV stands when we can pipe it straight in grinckles." Grinckles. Again. Of course. The culvert, the stream – the fish had been mostly driven off campus, but not out of town, and now were were going to be driving them in here into the basement to buy off a demon. I took a moment, squatting down, double facepalming like that was going to help, as the top of the stairs rattled and the others moved out of the way to let Yuping and Remy start bringing the quantum-state dislocator down piece by piece.

The first parts down, though, weren't the familiar controls or even the containment-cell panels that had been the biggest culprits in how there was no space in the lab for the longest time. It was me and Carolína putting them together as the guys dragged them down, and what was emerging out of the greasy machine parts was, at least to start, a gigantic bank of extremely-high-voltage pass-through capacitors: a power supply assembly that was more on the scale of a railgun to launch spaceships than anything we'd ever built in the lab…yet. "Riley," I asked, locking the ears of a mains plug in place and then turning the screws down to make sure that the connection was secure, "is this really safe? This is a lot more potential power than we've ever put through the dislocator before – are you sure this is going to work, and not just melt down all around us?"

Riley squinted through the eyepiece of a short-legged transit, checking the level or the range to the back wall or something, and stood up with a snort. "If it slags, it slags; not that much we can do about it." Remy and Leo were coming down the stairs with a tall, heavy chunk of steel and glass – one of the panels for the dislocator's containment cell – and Riley moved out of the way, motioning them towards the far wall. "One of the things about the physical universe, though, is that if you want something out of it, you can generally do it if you dump in enough energy to get it past its moment of inertia. I'm betting that there's a fold somewhere around in here, like I was saying, and if we can throw enough giga-electron-volts through it, we can pin it back a little, even if it's partway on q. Yeah, it's not exact, but if we wanted to be sure and theoretically perfect and delicate with our energy budgets, we'd be up sipping tea with the string-theory bozos in Wetmore Hall. This is Applied Physics – as the founder of our discipline said back a couple thousand years ago, give us a lever and a place to stand and we'll move the world. It's just that this lever, if we really rigged it up for pure throughput, could pull enough juice to brown out the friggin Three Gorges." Riley paused for a moment, admiring the technological terror we were putting back together in our condo's basement.

"But yeah, the contain on this is probably going to be pretty sloppy. If you had anything important, you'd probably want to put in a Faraday cage – like up on campus, though; you'd probably need a 150-millimeter lead castle down here. And it would've been smarter to do it yesterday, before I started pulsing around with the small unit off the truck; anyway, just worry about getting those capacitor cells lined up and drawing out of the mains. We're not going to be able to make necessary throughput off the power the city can get us through those wires – what we get from the power supplies is easily ninety percent of our uptime." Behind Riley, Leo and Yuping were settling another containment panel in place; I could be wrong, but it sure looked like Riley's big plan for finding or contacting this demon was to ramp up as much power through the quantum-state dislocator as possible and hope it wandered into the beam. That was fine as a dumb hypothesis went, but the last time that we tried to overvolt the dislocator like that, something in the power supply failed, and nearly burned a hole in the floor – and that was with only one of these mega-capacitance cells.

"Right, if the shielding's up and all the power's drawing, then as soon as we can get the friggin beam housing down, Sajitha and Carolína will get it coupled in and check all the connections and software while Remy and Leo go knock a hole in the culvert and wedge the goddamn fish grate in. Bira, that dude that Sandra's got running the construction crew, says they've got water into the surface cut; that's all we need, the fish'll go up that way until we can get the lures and crap in." Riley flipped through some papers on top of the blueprints, checking on something. "Yuping and I will bring in the beam as soon as the generator head is on line, then Yuping, you have to go and get the rest of the stuff together." Yuping nodded, but with a roll of his eyes, like whatever that 'rest of the stuff' Riley was putting on him was so dumb and unnecessary that even he would push back on it. I raised my hand.

"Riley, if we need to move fast I can help dig. We've already gotten all the power connections together, and I'm buffer than Leo, and he's nearly as good as Carolína at equipment ops. Wouldn't that be easier?"

Riley shut me down with an upheld hand. "No, Saj, I need you in here to bring the beam in, in case I have to hop on something else while Yuping's out collecting the crutches and our fish specialist." Yeah, that was pretty goddamned stupid, and it totally explained why he didn't want to do it. "Just do your job and get the equipment up and running; you can let Leo go and get sweaty with Remy just this once. You'll have all the time you like once this shit's done and you can be sure the mattress isn't going to bamf out from under you." I gritted my teeth as Riley turned back away to check something in the containment panels; Remy's eyes met mine as he and Leo set down the main beam generator module, and he quickly turned away before coming around to a half-look back.

"Say, thanks, Sajitha, even – I –"

"Save it," Riley cut across, pointing at the pile of rock-breaking tools randomly stacked around the foot of the stairs. "Hands, move; you've got two feet of concrete between the wall and the culvert to get chunked out. I need live fish and a hot beam, and until we got those, you can keep your hands to yourselves and your parts in your pants." Remy took up a pick in his left hand and a sledgehammer almost effortlessly in his right; he looked back at me – Riley was checking something else on the blueprints and talking up at probably the construction foreman by phone – as he turned for the other door towards the room closest to the culvert, but I stayed ducked down, working on hooking up the main dislocator module, not looking for his gaze. It wasn't that there was anything there – not that there hadn't been all the way along, which was nothing, of course. There wasn't anything wrong about wanting to watch Remy's muscles working, back and shoulders and arms slinging a pick to smash through and break the rock apart, to chip in on my own controlling a heavy hammer and show him that I could handle myself, handle some of the physical work once in a while; nothing that ought to get Carolína smiling like that at least.

I closed up the interconnect and booted the dislocator controls off the on-board battery, making sure that it wouldn't be exposed to the capacitor cells until Riley was ready to go for the big time. If this stupid thing could just work, and solve the appliance disappearances, and additionally not set everything on fire and wipe every hard drive for eight blocks around; if it could just work correctly without somehow getting even stranger, then Riley and Carolína and whoever could ride me and Remy up and down and back and forward about whatever dumb not-happening relationship they liked. If it could just work.

Chapter 6

#nanowrimo #alifeofriley #fiction

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larrykrakow · 4 years ago

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Leftist Movements: Where Were You When We Needed You?

New Post has been published on https://theprogressivemind.org/leftist-movements-where-were-you-when-we-needed-you/

Leftist Movements: Where Were You When We Needed You?

Leftist movements have played a critical role in American politics in the past. They brought about the New Deal in response to the Great Depression. They attracted masses in search of civil rights. The left brought us out of the Vietnam War and into a period of relative peace. Even if you are on the right, you need to read this piece. It shows how YOU were taken for a ride by our current system.

So where have the leftist movements been?

It seems that they are starting to re-energize after decades of decline thanks to the campaign of Bernie Sanders and the rise of political giants like Alexandria Ocasio Cortez, but the war on the left began in the post World War II era. The first shot across the bow was an attack on labor. President Truman signed Taft Hartley in 1947. Since then, we plowed through the McCarthy Era into the Civil Rights Movement. Many believed that the death of Martin Luther King Jr. was a major blow to the economic left.

Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. was the leader of one of America’s most successful progressive movements. He was not solely working towards racial justice. Perhaps, the one thing that the plutocracy feared the most was that he was working towards bringing about working class dignity for ALL races.

Doctor King planted a flag for the working class. It was not only about race for him. He was about fairness in our society. This is the fairness that has been stolen from us over generations. Unfortunately, the attacks continued and reached a breaking point. Richard Nixon divided us up with his Southern Strategy and Reagan went after the air traffic controllers as a symbolic shot that government had disdain for the working class. Sadly, that has led to destruction of organized labor across the country, organized labor of black AND white people.

Fortunately for us, people have started to wake up. The minimum wage has become a litmus test for many on the left. States are now passing laws raising the wage, but in reality, it is still not enough. Leftist movements like Fight For 15 have won some victories, but the country still has a $7.25 minimum wage.

The attacks however have gotten worse. When the economy collapsed in 2008, there were no prosecutions related to the fraud that brought down the economy. Occupy Wall Street started in response. Sadly, there was no leadership or organization. It was quickly co-opted by the Democrats and fizzled out.

Donald Trump is a symptom of a broken system.

The establishment Democrats paid lip service to the working class. They pushed the same trade deals that have led us down the path to where we are today. The only difference is that this time, the guy who says he is against bad trade deals actually signed one. As Obama’s Trans Pacific Partnership was shelved, Donald Trump was reworking NAFTA and out came an agreement that further put the corporations in charge.

If you want to talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing, look no further than Donald Trump. He came into office calling Hillary Clinton crooked. She may have been in the eyes of many, but he is every bit and more. He added several Goldman Sachs lackeys to his cabinet and appointed some of the worst corporate actors as well. He made sure that his daughter and son in law were able to exploit positions of power for personal gain. Trump violated the Emoluments Clause of our Constitution by profiteering off other governments.

Covid-19 is perhaps the breaking point.

Out of tragedy, we often see hope. Times in our history have shown that. When George Floyd was murdered by the police, nationwide outrage started to simmer, but it is nowhere near what is expected to come. The Federal Reserve has been pumping money into financial markets to make them go with the intention of driving economic growth and saving struggling companies. This kind of action never brings money into the hands of people like you or I. It puts the money in the hands of corporations who are now flush with cash as people are losing everything.

We are getting closer and closer to seeing millions of people being either evicted or foreclosed upon. Sadly, the response by our government has mostly been to bail out corporations. As people are forced home, people like Jeff Bezos are expanding their wealth far beyond what is imaginable. This should wake up the left. If it does not, then we have a structural flaw in our society.

It is high time for an uprising unlike we have ever seen.

Economic justice is a tough thing to achieve. The mainstream media never covers the suffering of average Americans. They have the power to create a narrative that highlights suffering brought on by our corporate social capitalist system. This very system socializes losses for the corporations and privatizes the gains. That is how crony capitalism works. In down times, it is you, the tax payer who must bail out these poor corporations so that we can save the country. When you need a savior, all I here is crickets.

Leftist movements are not made at the ballot box. I can tell you that Donald Trump has been an even bigger part of the problem than any corporate Democrat. His tax cuts largely went to the plutocracy while your stimulus payment was enough to buy a couple of months worth of groceries and gas in your car. After that, you are on your own. In fact, Congress went on break without a deal for economic relief for the people. Unbelievably, they did not believe that a break would hurt people facing eviction.

Here are some statistics to wrap your head around. Around 40% of all renters nationwide are at risk of a rent shortfall and/or eviction. The state with the highest number is West Virginia at 59%. The lowest percentage comes from Vermont with 22% of renters at risk. The state with the lowest percentage STILL RISKS HAVING OVER ONE IN FIVE RENTERS RISKING EVICTION!

If you are not outraged by this when American billionaires increased their wealth by over 500 billion dollars during the pandemic, I don’t know what to say to you. I put this blame squarely on Mitch McConnell AND Donald Trump. I also put this blame on the American people for not standing up to power and demanding what is rightfully yours.

Don’t listen to Hannity or Rachel Maddow. Even though they are on different sides of the fence, they are there to watch out for the plutocracy. How do you feel about your right wing values when you may not have a home to place your flag? The media will not tell you that the economy is in such a bad place that your small town businesses may go under, leaving your brother, sister, cousins and friends without jobs. They also will not give lip service to leftist movements.

What you may NOT realize is that we are being divided up and powers that be are walking away to the bank!

You are told that the left only wants to give away free stuff. That is a crock! As a member of the left, I can tell you that I always want the dignity of a job and one that pays well. We are NOW living in a pandemic that has taken the lives of 167,000 Americans. It has caused our economy to contract by 9% in a single quarter, the largest contraction in American history. If you want to talk about FREE stuff, look no further than the crooks that gave it all to wealthy corporations.

We should never be forced to put the pressure on our politicians, but the reality is, they are owned by powerful special interests who have the desire to rig the game in their favor. Getting back to those of you on the right that support the clown in the White House and the goons in Congress, remember, the only thing that they have promised that they have kept is that they would make sure that those people of color are not your problem. Unfortunately for you, they are linked to you, like it or not.

They WOULD be your natural ally for working class solidarity if you let them, yes, the brown people. They would march in picket lines with you. It is very simple when you ask someone who is really considered to be on the left in America what they want. We want a living wage, universal healthcare, a Green New Deal, ending the wars, ending the war on drugs and ending mass incarceration. I doubt that I am asking too much. Every American should be able to be able to have a roof over their head, the ability to see a doctor and the ability to live in a clean world. That is all that the leftist movements are about!

The corporations don’t care if you have that or not. They care solely about their profits. They do not give a shit about you. They don’t care about the 59% of people in West Virginia who could lose their housing during a pandemic. These people are parasites to our society and intend to keep us divided.

Just remember one thing. Leftist movements are not an attack on your freedom. It is an attack on greed and corruption. This corruption has brought our system to its knees. We have people waiting on bread lines across the country. How can we allow this to continue? I cannot understand why. Is it really that important to see Trump build a wall that you will allow the greediest in our society take EVERYTHING? Chris Smalls asked Amazon to provide protective gear and hazard pay as his coworkers were getting sick. HE is a man of color that fought for ALL of us, no matter what the color of our skin is! This is a black man that fought to help prevent you, maybe a white person from getting sick with a potentially deadly illness.

Our differences are only skin deep. We are all strugglers in the vast ocean of society. The plutocracy is made up of the sharks like Donald Trump that are eating us alive. They are taking our last resources as a nation and hoarding them, because they know the end is near. They know that one day, we will rise up together and take them on. Donald Trump is just a symptom. The disease comes from a system that has been manipulated to control you. It comes from the media that is owned by billionaires and the divide and conquer tactics that distract us from the REAL Truth. That truth is that the American dream is dead. You have to be asleep to believe in it. If you wish to revive it, stand together with people that you normally do not like, because the people at the top don’t care about you.

#leftist movements

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 5 years ago

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Yall need to care about this woman and humans like her

She's right you need to stay home. Aliens and evil will be out getting as many people as they can sick. And it's dangerous.

At home it is dangerous for raids from kidnappers all you have to do is keep the doors and windows locked and yell "I've called the police" through the door. Regardless if you did or not and you should if they are going door to door or you see kidnapping. They won't and can't hurt you. Not if we stop them because you stop them by calling and telling.

I am bound by unforsakeable rules ... By other planets rulers that recommend the best way to handle the situations of their planet's aliens that are in leadership on our planet. It is humiliation..

That is why the situation is so harsh. And it is so tough and my poor human woman is crying.

We simply cannot handle the alien's way of life on our planet. Look what it does to my woman.

She is not an actress. she is a nurse. Simple at is pleading and begging for relief and help.

I don't like the situation. I don't like it as much as much soulmate. Except i don't fight it. I know the end result and i do know that he believes there is a Better way.

But this is recommended by Planet Mount Xion, Mount Zulululu, Mount Oryoion, Interplanetary Chioioyoiaua, District of Ximbouartouanzuxia, Fierengliesienteriafviewnyoxia, and Mount Jauantianiauv. As well as 3 comets.

"Allow an alien to attempt to cause harm and reverse it. Do not interfere and allow mistakes then comfort and allow contorsion meaning apply rhythmetic change when the time is right. Allow humans to behave as humans do and allow aliens to understand they are not a proper fit here on this planet, eradicate them and then We will do the rest"

That is what i was told to do.

So now I'm telling you. Y'all have been doing it wrong, my humans. Go home and see your families. Let the military take over. They have been trained for years for this. Take time off.

Queen Elizabeth II has protocols to send y'all home for 2 weeks with pay in Europe on the other side of the world from the Americas.

Americas will work hand in hand and each military for each hot and heavy zone has protocols and for invasions of each hospitals.

Quarentine and Social Distancing cannot and will not stop.

I am outsourcing myself to NYC as soon as i can and you will see a different ability of social distancing and Quarentine other than staying in your homes. Alex and the military assisting me in travels have talked to thr Governor of NYC about my visiting. And i will be seeing my warehouse. And making sure it is okay and things are updated as they ought to be. So those idiots picketing outside after a DNA4U test with a spit swab to see their health will be dragged inside By their ear and slapped around to prove I'm not a fucking idiot. Nor are my workers that go to work every day without having a tantrum of stupidity. 61% on Staten Island which i appreciate and will check for them it is satisfactory at least. And speak to the workers myself to ensure they are being treated as they should be -- like not being fired for being slower than usual on a day or several days or not being reprimanded for being so. And checking office records and other information as there was a manager that was purposely abusing staff.

I have hotels that Alex and i own together and we will see about them. Then we have to self Quarentine for 2 solid weeks upon our return to other states. Which means not even going out to get groceries but ordering them and having them delivered on our disinfected porch. Where we have to carry them in ourselves.

I will check other factories and have access to them and will be working on them as soon as i can. As of now i dont have that ability.

I will see about conversion of hotels temporarily and what else needs to be done

I do believe we have offered our military Free stays our hotels in 3 of our 10 hotels. So we will check on homeless and ill but before that those being evicted

We have 82 apartment buildings which we own between Alex, Snoop and Shaq and I. 71 are in Harlem and we will check to ensure the poorest of those are having food and utilities still on and see how they are.

No one should be charged rent in our facilities and we will ensure that is occuring in our housing facility management teams. And talk to them about ways to manage the ability of keeping utilities on. Water and electricity in all 82 apartment housing that we own.

We own 79 restaurants in lower Manhattan alone and we will ensure our management teams are hiring delivery personnel and are feeding people and our buildings do not shut down to improper lighting or sanitation. It is up to the governor about food supply to local communities however we do desire catering to people working in essential places. Free of charge.

We own 800 restaurants total in New York State.

So obviously we hire people to take care of our businesses because it's impossible for even a team of 6 to handle that many.

We bought most when they were shuttered down and closed. Which is why we own So many buildings in Harlem after drugs ran people out and bad land lords and etc.

We did have many loans at Chase Manhattan bank which are now paid off. And i took a loan to start Amazon. Of $3 million. Which has also been paid off.

In Chicago we have 4 times as many apartment complex and 2x as many restaurants.

In Detroit we own half as many apartment and less than 25% of the restaurants compared to NYC. Because some trustworthy people we know own the majority.

We don't own many stores in either metropolitan area.

In LA we own 5x what we do for apartments in NYC and 3x as many restaurants.

Over all we own 600 hotels in the USA. Worldwide we own 3000.

So i have a lot to do to allow my end of the understanding of the agreement for what i made for this new times to go on indefinitely until it is fully resulted in what it needs to result in.

I'm not bragging about what we own I'm saying I will make a prototype soon for what all land lords should be doing.

I will override the government in their expectations.

And so those that cannot afford rent dont pack your shit. Ill kick your land Lord's ass If i need to. I'll have an assessment once i get to NYC and manage what i can.

As i said i own the least there and so working with a smaller area doesn't mean it wont work with more. It means it will.

If you can make it in the Big Apple you can make it anywhere. But we would all feel better if i had a bit of an education about it wouldn't we? Not that i need one because really... Its all quite simple and not at all complex.

So don't be jealous when I'm finally doing what i deserve to do. And don't be thinking I think I'm some big shot hoe bagger. Cause I'm not and i don't.

There are things i have to do for a once and for all for the alien life to see that they don't belong here.

And unfortunately they make women like this cry. Men, too.

Stop wearing N95 masks. Those are for like dead bloated bodies, carrying hazmat.

Not for regular everyday nurse wear.

Nurses and doctors go home. Straight to shower. Seal your clothes in a bag. Shower and put the bags away. Or undress in your laundry room and put your clothes in the washer immediately then immediately shower. Hot water and soap. Wash all crevices and hair. Faces and hands.

Then put on fresh clean clothes and hug and kiss your family

92% of healthcare workers world Wide got the same corona i got when i got it. Families did not.

The 8% that didn't are COVID-19 diers.

Constance will finish this post to explain the rest of what you need to do as I cannot because of the binding agreement -- the dead must speak from the dead.

..... .....

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ciathyzareposts · 6 years ago

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Nippon Safes Inc. – Get smart (Won)

Written by Torch

I ended the previous post on a slightly slow-moving note, if I can call it that. For the umpteenth time, I needed to find 100 yen for a metro ticket. While I didn’t flag that post as a request for assistance, I nevertheless found myself unable to obtain the necessary funds for the duration of my next play session. So I went ahead and sneakily requested some hints in the comments section, and luckily, Vetinari yet again came to my aid. I’m not sure what to think about the solution to the problem, but at least it again confirms my theory that the game interface is doing its utmost to fool me at every opportunity

Consider the following screenshot

Looks like we’ve got ourselves a Mexican standoff. Only I don’t see any Mexicans

This is a screen I’ve visited frequently. The gentlemen pictured here are passers-by that randomly cross the screen in a set pattern. Not once in the game so far has there been any indication that these men could be interacted with. Not until I suddenly come carrying a hat. A hat that I acquired by accidentally pushing a guy off the top of a very high building.

Well, that’s about to pay off in a big way, because I can now use the hat to…. wait for it… beg for alms from one of the men….

Oh no, I couldn’t. It would ruin your suit

Yes, if I squint really hard, I can sort of see the game developers’ logic here, but why did I need the hat? Couldn’t I just talk to the guy and ask him for money? And why oh why couldn’t the game at least let me know sometime in advance that it might be able to interact with this guy at some point? Like “look”-ing at him and getting a “Looks like a rich businessman on his way to work” or something similar. It’s really annoying trying to figure this stuff out when you’re convinced they’re just part of the scenery.

Sigh, let’s at least hope it’s the last time I’m fooled like this. Rant closed. Moving on.

100 yen in pocket, I can now buy a metro ticket to Subu. Oh, by the way, as I receive the money, I get a new copy protection question, asking how long the city’s railway is. I find the answer in the manual and move on. After a short metro ride, I end up at Subu, where I’ve also been before.

It’s like deja vu all over again.

On the right we see Doug’s pachinko hut, and on the left is Donna’s beauty salon. This time, however, we’re going to Sento baths. I have a flyer for Sento, but it doesn’t seem to be a coupon or anything, so I probably won’t be walking out of there after my visit with a basket full of soaps.

As I enter, I find myself (or Dino’s self ) in a small waiting room of sorts. Attached to the door is a large gong, and Dino exclaims that one would have to be a Hercules to be able to use it. Well, he IS sort of a (stupider) Hercules, and he hasn’t punched anything since he ate those beans in the previous post, and – to jog your memory – Dino gets strong(er) from eating beans. So I punch the gong.

Seems like a mallet would be easier. How do beanless people get in?

And the door opens. Inside I see a lone man in a jacuzzi. The cursor identifies him as Mr. Y.

Thanks, but I only know that one song. The one that goes “GONNNNNNNNNG”

By talking to the guy, everything sorts itself out. He approves of Dino fighting Futotta, and tells me to go back to the arena and tell them that “The Sento man said yes”. So… no written statement or anything…? Well, ok.

Another two metro rides ( why can’t I go directly from one station to another without going through the main district? ) and I’m back at Kinza, where I talk to the aptly named “sumo man” again. After a short conversation in which Dino needs a couple of tries to remember what he was supposed to say, I’m allowed to wrestle. There’s only the small matter of a contract.

19%? But I know Donna gets all 50 000 yen. How does that compute?

Seems fair

Dino agrees to sign the contract, but as I already know from Doug’s chapter, there’s the issue of Dino not being heavy enough.

I wonder what 12 kilos of beans would do for Dino’s punching capacity

As I leave the arena, I bump into Doug (as expected), and the exchange goes the same as last time.

150 – 138 = 10 ( Well, it’s Dino )

In case you don’t remember, Doug needs a ticket for the match and promises to help Dino with the weight problem if he can get one. Ok, great. Now, to get Doug to uphold his end of the deal from this point, I needed to:

Travel to main district

Use a wrench to disassemble a radio at Doug’s house to get a speakermagnetthingy

Trade the wrench for a jar at honest Chan’s

Travel to Subu and enter the Pachinko house

Play the pachinko game, using the speakermagnetthingy to win a bunch of tiny balls

Put the balls in the jar to see how many it can hold

Travel back to the main district

Go to the restaurant in the park and enter it

Talk to the chef to “guess” how many balls are in the competition jar to win a voucher for free food

Travel back to Kinza and give the voucher to Dino.

And that’s if I had known in advance exactly what to do, and didn’t have to mess around.

Now, for Dino:

Enter Arena – Pick up ticket – Exit Arena

Looking back at the amount of frustration this game has caused me, I guess I shouldn’t complain when things are easy. As you know, I now have a voucher for an “all you can eat”-meal at the Kaizen-Sushi restaurant in the park, so I hop on the metro and get there in a jiffy ( do people still say jiffy? ). What happens at the restaurant though, is slightly anti-climactic.

Because.. onions

Right after entering the restaurant, Dino comes back out again, and the whole thing is apparently done. No eating animation or anything… Meh… But ok. I still have something to look forward to. Due to the order of the chapters, I’ve felt that the game has been building towards the sumo wrestling match. We’ve had sexcapades, overeating, jar ball guessing, etc. all in order to get this fight of the century to happen, so there had better be some serious payoff now.

I travel back to Kinza and enter the arena building, ready to witness this clash of titans. Will there be puzzles to solve or an action sequence to master in order to win the match?

It’s like that movie “Click” with Adam Sandler, only they skip the good parts

Or will the whole thing be over in 1 second with no graphical depiction of how this went down?!?!

This is seriously disappointing. Like at the restaurant, right after entering the venue, Dino comes back out, having won the fight, and Donna’s outside waiting for him. They just… skipped over the whole event. Groan….. We never even got to see Buta Futotta.

19% manager fee or not, Dino gives 50 000 yen to Donna, and the rest is history. Or rather herstory ( sorry ). Which means that Dino is pretty much done with what he set out to do.

The end. Thanks for reading…

… but wait. A familiar face suddenly shows up

Well at least one of us saw the match

It’s Dr. WooKi! He serves up a story about being from the Secret Service, and he needs Dino to steal a rare element from Mitsushita technologies. I guess the real mission is about to begin.

I head towards the Mitsushita office, which is where Dino first tried to apply for a job in his intro segment. On the way there, however, I notice a new item hanging on the newspaper seller’s booth. It’s…. A newspaper! I pick it up and read it.

Apparently the newspaper seller is so caught up in his metro ticket business that he forgot to charge for the newspaper

After knowing about the volunteer applications, I can now get into Mitsushita offices

Yes. I’m volunteering to…. steal stuff from you! *snigger*

Inside a quite garish looking reception area, I’m greeted by a receptionist who calls for a Dr. Buoz.

Maybe you should experiment on making a carpet cleaning device instead

He leads me in to a lab of sorts, where he and some guy who looks like Albert Einstein want to ask me some questions.

Please let the answer be “E=MC²”?

The questions are fairly simple, ranging from what’s 5×7 to what was the color of Napoleon’s white horse. On each question, I can choose the correct answer, a wrong answer, and a way off answer. If I answer them all correctly, they tell me I’m not stupid enough, so I can’t join the experiment, and I’m subsequently evicted from the premises. If I answer everything incorrectly, I’m apparently too stupid, and will also need to leave. Every time I fail, I can enter the building for a new attempt, as if nothing happened, so it’s just a matter of experimenting.

I end up answering the question “What’s your name” correctly, and everything else wrong, and they’re finally happy. They bring me in to another room and hook me up to a machine.

Um.. something something… cereal simulator. Got it.

They have a theory that the IQ of an individual is closely related to the electrical conductivity of his neuron synapses, and that by giving Dino’s head an electrical shock, they can increase this conductivity, thus increasing his brain capacity. Seems legit. And to top it off, the chance of failure is lower than 70%. If only more people knew.

At this point all I can do is watch them send a bolt of electricity into Dino’s head. After it’s done, the good doctor wants to know how he feels.

Sounds impressive, but it’s mostly due to the glasses

They seem happy with the results, and administer another “IQ test”, or as I like to call it, a quiz.

How does this help you to determine IQ?

There are a couple of math questions as well, but they’re also in the “either you know or you don’t”-category. Like “What’s the formula of Coulomb attraction?” ( I had to google it ). Contrary to the previous quiz, where I was evicted and had to come back to try again, this section just loops until I’ve answered all the questions correctly. By default, Dino guesses wrong on the last question, so the scientists determine that the machine is unstable, and want to keep Dino for a couple of days, for observation.

I’m moved to the previous examination room, where I’m now free to examine stuff (as one does). The room contains a computer, a printer and several drawers full of floppy disks. I can insert the disks into the computer ( after which they mysteriously disappear ). Most of them contain unspecified experiment results, but one contains some of developer Max’s adult entertainment:

But look at the size of those pixels!

One disk contains a Cray emulator. Cray was a line of supercomputers, starting with the 64-bit 80MHz Cray-1 in 1976. When I look at the computer in the lab, Dino says it’s an Oric-1. Ok ok, nothing out of the ordinary here, right? Wrong! The Oric-1 was a cheap 8-bit 1MHz machine, and would probably pass out from just being in the vicinity of the Cray. And that’s not even taking into account the newer models that would have existed in 1992! Pfft! Cray Emulator…

Anyway, there’s also a disk labeled “Copy Nippon Safes Inc.” This naturally won’t work in the computer, because it’s a pirate copy. And those never work. Ever. The last labeled disk is um.. labeled “COBOL compiler”.

The 4 labeled disks don’t disappear, but they also don’t produce any results when inserted. But then I noticed I can pick up the printer cable, and next to the door is a loose panel, that can be removed. Behind the panel I see what must be a parallel port, since I can actually plug the printer cable into it, thus connecting the panel to the computer. I can now insert the COBOL compiler disk, and Dino will write a COBOL program that opens the door. That’s what a little electricity through the brain can do for you, kids! It can put knowledge into your brain, that’s what.

The door opens and I can enter the reception area again. Rummaging through the filing cabinet, I find no files, but rather a flower pot, some fennel, a pack of spaghetti and a sack of bean seeds ( I think I can guess where this is going )

Hope they’re not has-beans

I go left again and find myself back in the electric chair room. The scientists are still nowhere to be seen.

Just about everything in this room looks dangerous in some way

I can remove a grid from the left door, marked “lab”, creating an opening too small to go through, and I also can’t reach anything inside. There’s a faucet to the right of the chair, that doesn’t register on a plain mouseover, but can be used to fill my flower pot with some sort of radioactive looking green goo.

I wonder if we can make a flying spaghetti monster

The contraption on the left wall hides a robot that chases me when I push a button that I can’t really make out, but that shows up on a mouseover.

What’s with the smiley face? Is that supposed to be scary?

At first, I run out of the room, and come back to see him back in his place, but after a few tries I realize I don’t have to react at all. He’ll just move back to his spot after a short while. I try to reach whatever’s behind him, but Dino moves a little bit automatically when the robot is activated, and I don’t have time to get behind him before he moves back.

Eventually, I discover another switch above the door, that turns on something in the chamber on the right, making it glow green. It’s called a reducer. When I click it, Dino goes in and gets shrunk. Like proper Alice in Wonderland-stuff. Walking around like this, he’s suddenly small enough to go through the whole in the door

How can you be re-duced if you’ve never been duced to begin with? Yes, I’m running out of caption ideas

At this point, I encounter a bug. If I click the lab door while standing in the green area, Dino does a weird graphic bug thing and teleports to the a bit outside the playing area at the bottom of the screen, and I can’t move him anymore. I find no other solution than to reload. The next time, I make sure to leave the green area first.

Reducer and dissolver, actually

That last caption totally floored me

On the other side of the lab door, Dino automatically goes back to normal size. (I don’t know if that’s with or without the 12 kilos he had to gain to become a sumo wrestler.)

There’s some sort of weird water tank or something inside. Trying all my items at random, I find that I can plant the bean seeds in what appears to be soil at the bottom of the tank.

What has bean seed, cannot be unseed

Since not much happens after that, I try pouring my pot of goo on the whole shebang, and a tree rapidly grows before my eyes, sprouting a superbean. I kid you not. Just look:

Would you REALLY eat this?

The lab door opens from the inside, and after eating the superbean, I gain the by now customary punch action. After activating the sentry robot again, I now have the beans… sorry, means to incapacitate it

Recognize THIS!

The robot shuts down again, and I’m free to pick up whatever’s behind him. Which turns out to be the object I was sent here to retrieve, a magnet. Having fulfilled my mission, I leave the building, and…

Plants vs. dummies

And that concludes Dino’s chapter. Now this would’ve been a good time to stop if not for the fact that the “great” part of the “great final” clearly isn’t referring to its length.

The end is near, I promise. Let’s press on and get through this last stretch together.

But what if we’re expecting you to kill us?

Seems like the good dr. WooKi isn’t so good after all. Who’d have guessed? He thinks our heroes know too much ( debatable ), so he’ll have to get rid of them. But as any good villain knows, you can’t kill heroes without first antagonizing them with a boring monologue, where you provide a detailed explanation of your sinister plot.

Whaaaaa…?

Nippon safes inc. Now where have I heard that name before?

Ok, history lesson time. Nippon Safes inc. used to be one of the most famous safe companies in the world, and rich guys would come from all over the world to put their bling in them. WooKi’s partner was the real genius behind the safes, but one day he disappeared, and business went downhill. WooKi was a sort of business manager in the company, so he got in trouble when the safe creator was no longer with them.

But one day WooKi found a letter from his partner, detailing how to discover a safe containing a book with all his secret. It would allow the reader to open all safes built by the creator ( sounds terribly unsafe to me ). To open this safe, one would need three keys, each hidden inside a special item. Now, if you’ve been paying attention, you might guess that these items are the ones our three protagonists have sacrificed hours of my time to obtain.

After the rant is over, I gain control over the evil doctor. The safe door has 3 holes, and I have 3 items. I’m pretty sure I don’t need to issue a request for assistance to this puzzle.

So the Buddha shaped peg goes in the… sword shaped hole..? No, that’s not right

After putting all objects in their right place.. Wait, weren’t the keys supposed to be hidden inside the items? Oh whatever��.

I still don’t think I’ve been told the name of this guy

The recording of the dead partner concedes that WooKi must be the smarter man, since he managed to find the safe and open it, that he holds no grudge, and that WooKi is truly deserving of the book. All that remains is for him to go in and grab it. Come on now. Don’t be scared. Go get your prize

Psych!

Mr. creator devoted his life to protecting honest people(‘s valuables – my edit), and he was certainly not about to help a thief like Dr. WooKi. Then the whole safe/trap falls down into a lava pit, uncovering a cleverly placed reminder of what game I’m actually playing. In case I’d forgotten.

Obvious product placement

After some light banter, Doug and Donna discover that Dino’s hands aren’t tied. The dr. apparently forgot, but Dino didn’t want to interrupt the story. Cute. We get some reminiscing about what our guys have been through. Doug’s going back to cracking safes, now that Nippon safes inc. has gone bankrupt. Donna has a marriage proposal to reconsider ( just.. don’t ), and Dino can’t remember how he got here.

Finally, all line up and smile for the camera. And end with a joke

Oh, that Dino

Ok, I guess we’re done…. But wait!

Sequel!

Ok, now we’re done. For everyone who made it through to the end, I appreciate it. Now I need to go back and think long and hard about how to rate this game.

Time played: 18h 40m

Tioko/Tyoko mentions (accumulated) Tioko: 13 Tyoko: 13 ( No way! )

Inventory: Well, nothing really, since I used all three items in the last section

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/nippon-safes-inc-get-smart-won/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

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