#especially not in our DATING SIM PODCAST

[dragonomatopoeia]

madelyn very considerately built time into our recording schedule for 'this segment of the recap will probably launch air straight into a five minute digression about labor protections and immigrants' rights' and i am running a mile with the inch she's given me. i'm so sorry madelyn. i have thoughts. and opinions. and sources.

[cozza-frenzy]

The Alters Of The Magbox

Well, here it is! An exhaustive list of every alter in the system, under the cut. This post is mainly just for reference, but feel free to take a look if you've not met all of us yet or are just curious.

Terry (fused with Rocky, Blue Lantern Ring Fragment, Caddy Remnant Fragment) Pronouns: Toon/They/Fin Tag: #Shit Terry Says System Role(s): Host, Conflict Resolution, Knowledge Holder

The host is the alter whose job is to live most of the everyday by fronting most frequently, and the other alters look to toon for guidance, and to resolve fights and arguments. Terry assumed the host role in 2020, but may have been in and out of dormancy for most of the system's life. Toon fused with Rocky and re-absorbed the "Blue Lantern Ring" fragment in the February 2024 fusion phase ("Fuse-A-Palooza"), and took on a second fragment from Caddy's failed fusion. Despite this, Terry's largely retained toon's identity. Chaos D. Stortion (fused with Treacher and Gadget) Pronouns: It/Twist/Spin Tag: #Spiral Posting System Role(s): Gatekeeper, Caregiver, External Protector, Skill & Trauma Holder

Twin sibling to Vivien, Chaos was the first alter Terry made contact with after discovery. It can create doors in the inner world to allow for fast travel, is a primary caregiver to Alex, and rushes to the front to help protect vulnerable friends and family. Twist fused with Treacher and Gadget during Fuse-A-Palooza, retaining its identity, but healing a permanent injury from its source. Spin's currently dating Len in The Panopticon, and one alter in our system who'll remain undisclosed. Cosmic "Taffy" Latte (Fusion of Taffy and Moon Unit) Pronouns: They/Star Tag: #To The Stars System Role(s): Self-Care, Exercise, Mood Booster

Before their fusion, Taffy was the second alter Terry made contact with after discovery, appearing the same night as Chaos. Moon Unit was a fragment created by the system for note-taking and basic self-care in High School. Now fused but retaining their old name as a nickname, star's a lot happier and more confident than either original part was, but has mostly retained "original" Taffy's in-sys appearance as well as star's vegetarianism. Martin Blackwood Pronouns: He/They Tag: #Tea And Sympathy System Role(s): Caregiver, Self-Care, Body Positivity, Grief & Trauma Holder

An introject from The Magnus Archives podcast. Martin's a caregiver for adult alters with mental health issues, and despite appearing soft-spoken and awkward can be incredibly sassy. He's dating Jonathan Sims and Jonny D'Ville in the Panopticon, has a Queerplatonic relationship with Nathan, and Vivien is his adopted sibling, who took his last name to help establish their own identity. Vivien Blackwood Pronouns: They/Them Tag: #Beyond The Shadows System Role(s): Trauma Holder, Skill Holder, Knowledge Holder, former Host

Chaos' twin sibling and part of the Blackwood-Stortion family, Vivien had a lot to overcome when they first showed up as they were still "stuck" emotionally in the time they split. Since then though they've made amazing progress, and have re-ignited their passion for film, art, and especially animation. Viv was a former host during our college years, and remembers the places and people we met during that time. Nathan Blackwood Pronouns: He/It Tag: #Turn Your Gaze System Role(s): Gatekeeper, Memory Management, System Management

Nathan seems to be a fusion of multiple smaller, simpler fragments that now function as a single alter, and joined the Blackwood-Stortion family to help develop his own identity. He has the unique ability to "remote front" from anywhere in the inner world, and is able to view and assess the strength of connections between alters and between inner world areas. Rothko "Marx" Jackson (Fusion of Gerry and Nox) Pronouns: He/It/Paint Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Gatekeeper, Repair Coordinator (allows "stray" memories to re-integrate with suitable alters), Paranoia & Hypervigilance Holder, former Host (as Caddy and Nox)

Marx's story is more than a little complicated. Caddy was a former host that fused with Dr. Gaster, a fragment - and the result was unstable and shattered into several pieces. Gerry was one such piece, and eventually fused with Nox, another former host alter. They both needed each other to find their place in the system - and the result is the colorful and flamboyant Marx, who we're still getting to know as of March 2024. Highwind Ragnarok Pronouns: It/Its Tag: #Problematic Airship System Role(s): Skill Holder, Knowledge Holder

Highwind is an alter created for a surprisingly specific purpose - playing video games with others - and it's damn good at them. It holds our knowledge and skills related to games, and in our inner world is the AI that keeps our airship home clean, safe and secure. Dr. Roy Boss Pronouns: He/Him Tag: #Boom Baby Boom System Role(s): Medical Advocate, In-System Medical Care, Knowledge Holder

Our resident supervillain! Roy's a Bad Guy but he isn't a bad guy; he's our in-system doctor, assessing the health of our inner-world bodies (which reflects our mental state) and treating us for psychosomatic illness. He also speaks to doctors on our behalf, advocating for proper care and medical investigation. Mello D. Adagio Pronouns: Any/All Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Trauma Holder, Skill & Knowledge Holder, System Management, former Host (?) We're pretty sure Mello is another former host, or at least a frequent fronter that dealt with specific trauma scenarios. They have our knowledge of musical instruments, notation, and how Digital Audio Workstations function, and seem to have some relation in system to allowing others to share information. Jeremy Hillary Nowhere Pronouns: He/She Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Knowledge & Memory Holder, Body Positivity, former Persecutor

Jeremy is a recovered persecutor, a type of alter that inflicts intentional harm to the system. After our post-fusion reshuffle, she's gone from the voice of our "inner critic" to an appreciator of beauty and creativity, and a creator in his own right. She holds our knowledge of fine art and theater, and our memories of museums, exhibitions and historical sites. Raine Evenstar Pronouns: They/Them Tag: #Where Hope Grows System Role(s): Reaper (severs contact and bonds with people who've harmed us), Trauma Holder, former System Suppressor, former Host

Raine was the one keeping the rest of the system suppressed for most of our life; forcing other alters into dormancy, and allowing trauma to pile up as detached fragments. They only have memories of fronting to make sure our "dead" relationships stayed that way, but may have been the host for an indeterminate length of time, as our spouse recognizes their voice as what we sounded like around 10 years ago. Celeste Northstar Pronouns: She/Star/Bun Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Life Protector (removes suicidal urges), Host Protector, System Management

Celeste kept her existence a secret from nearly everyone for a long time, but came forward later as the one who forced Raine into temporary dormancy. This allowed Terry to make First Contact with the rest of the system; following that, she helps manage our emotional connections to the rest of the system, letting us "sense" when someone's in distress even if we're not in the same inner world area. Holiday Battenburg Pronouns: She/Cake Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Trauma Holder, Memory Holder, Caregiver

Holiday holds our memories of celebrations, vacations and parties - the good and the bad - and is one of Jazz's primary caregivers (mum). She's the "happy face" we had to put on when dealing with trauma relating to these things, but cake's slowly opening up to feeling a wider range of emotions, and learning to share what she's holding onto. Dagwood H. Sandwich Pronouns: He/Him Tag: #Bring Me Sunshine System Role(s): Mood Booster, Gatekeeper, Memory Holder

Holding the memories of the system's biological brother behind a literal locked door, Dagwood is the system's "littlest gatekeeper", but has been slowly letting those memories out so the system can deal with them piece by piece. Showtunes, "golden age" cartoons, and episodes of Morcambe And Wise will bring him to the front. Astera Weaver (Fusion of Hyi and Ari) Pronouns: It/She Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Gatekeeper, System Management and Communications, Memory Holder Hyi was our original gatekeeper, being able to block most alters from front, and Ari facilitated communications with alters outside of front via audio and video calls in system. Given the two worked so closely together, their fusion wasn't exactly a surprise, and Astera is better able to communicate and more willing to front than either of them were. Nox Vox-Nocturne Pronouns: He/They/It/Eye Tag: #Eye See Monsters System Role(s): Paranoia & Hypervigilance Holder, former Host Nox seems to be a holder for our feelings of paranoia and hypervigilance, and seems to have been host sometime in our late teens/early 20s. He's still getting used to having people care about it, but they're definitely capable of caring about others, and are helping to rekindle our interest in stories and video games. Loves street food, especially a good thai curry.

Amadeus Nocturne Serenade (Fusion of Nocturne and Lucille) Pronouns: It/Dark/Claw Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Anger Holder, Emotional Suppressor, Self-Harm Prevention The original fusion that made Nocturne (Yvonne and Harvey) came as a surprise, but resulted in one of the most emotionally stable alters in the system. Following that, Lucille joined with them, giving it a better coping mechanism. Claw now uses darks intimidating presence as a distraction in the inner world, while it isolates, contains, and "devours" the urge to commit self-harm. Rosie "Riot" Terrence (Fusion of Anarchy and Roxanne) Pronouns: She/They/Bun/Paint Tag: #Viva La Riot System Role(s): Protector, Gatekeeper (removes alters from front), Anger Holder Our first fusion of fusions; Anarchy came from Charlie and Rakugaki, Roxanne came from Roxy and Rosie. They fused during "Fuse-A-Palooza" to cut down on the number of superfluous protectors in the system, consolidating their strength to control buns temper and uphold paints ideals of justice and fairness. Commander Samuel Vimes Pronouns: He/Him Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Gatekeeper, In-System Peacekeeping, Stress Management (system-related stress) An introject from the Discworld series, Vimes appeared in system when we needed someone to contain The Red Forest, a massive fragment amalgamate that manifested as a hostile place in our inner world. He can "lock down" areas of headspace, preventing anyone from getting in or out, and recently took on the burden of the general stress that comes from being a system. Bitter Aster Pronouns: He/Him Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Chores, Emotional Protector, Life Protector (Removes the urge to self-harm), Soother (Prevents panic attacks) Bitter retains our knowledge of coping skills and self-help techniques, and fronts to help during panic attacks and urges to self-harm. In extreme situations, Bitter will actively take away short-term memories or intrusive thoughts so other alters stop focusing on them. Following our post-fusion reshuffle, he helps out with kitchen chores and cooking.

Jenova Destati (fused with The Divine Beast) Pronouns: She/It/Fen Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Pain Taker, former System Suppressor Jenova was the last alter to emerge directly from The Red Forest before it collapsed, and used to only front when the body was in extreme pain. When The Divine Beast emerged from the aftermath of Caddings' failed fusion (itself being the remnants of The Red Forest), they fused together, allowing the Divine Beast to "die" peacefully by becoming a part of Jenova. "Thirteen" (fused with Fox) Pronouns: She/He Tag: #Unlucky For Some System Role(s): Trauma Holder, Memory Holder, System Architect (designs and maintains areas of the Inner World) Thirteen is a trauma holder specifically for "learned helplessness", and came out as transfem (identifying as bigender) shortly before fusing with Fox during Fuse-A-Palooza. The resulting fusion has retained Thirteen's name and "base" identity, so for privacy reasons she'll continue to use a pseudonym online. She's dating Archivist Grian in The Panopticon. "Roses" Pronouns: Any/All (Genderfluid, varies) Tag: #Restless Nights System Role(s): Social Advocate, Trauma Holder, Skill Holder An introject from an undisclosed source. Roses is our charismatic "face" alter, navigating our performances in front of an audience, and complex social situations like formal events and appointments. "Leaf" Pronouns: They/It Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Financial & Resource Anxiety, Trauma Holder An alter whose real name isn't disclosed by their own request, Leaf tries to be as unobtrusive as possible, and for a long time stayed isolated from the system unless forced into front. It started fronting more at the start of March 2024, and their bravery and headstrong attitude (and interest in Monster Hunter) has earned them the title "The Giant Slayer". "Donner" Pronouns: He/Him Tag: #The Devil You Know System Role(s): Caregiver, Trauma Holder, Chores, Former Sexual Alter

An introject from an undisclosed source. Donner is one of Jazz's primary caregivers (dad), and is starting to front more frequently as he learns to get along better with other alters. He used to be the one that "held" the sexuality of other alters due to the confusion of having multiple personalities, but no longer fills this role after discovery.

The Kids

Our alters that are under 18 in system and behave like children or teenagers while fronting. They never front without an adult alter being present, and information here is limited to protect the system.

Jasmine "Jazz" Battenburg (fusion of Radeon and Velocity) Pronouns: She/They Tag: #For Your Soul System Role(s): Trauma, Memory & Knowledge Holder, former Host Alex D. Stortion (fusion of Jackie and Andy) Pronouns: He/She Tag: (None Yet) System Role(s): Trauma & Memory Holder

[ao3feed-jonmartin]

No Party's So Sweet as Our Party of Two

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/MvZVfKz by heeen Martin had spent three decades doing nothing but losing everything he cared about. But he’d spent the last three weeks, apparently, gaining everything he wanted most. Jon was… everything. He was a surprisingly clingy person to be dating, and a surprisingly soft person to love, especially considering all of his sharp edges. His elbows. His sharp wit. His sharp jaw. Ha! Martin was going insane and he’d never, ever been happier in his entire life. And now, he and Jon had been invited to a party. So they’d grabbed a bag of corn chips, a jar of salsa, and had put on their least destroyed, damaged, marked, or otherwise un-party-like outfits, and had walked past the pastures to a neighborhood party in a stranger’s backyard. Words: 2404, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Original Characters, Background & Cameo Characters, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, maybe? - Freeform, Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Fluff, Party, Neighbors read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/MvZVfKz

[feuqueerfire]

2023 Series Overview + Stats

2022 OVERVIEW (SHOWS, SHIPS) + STATS

It's the end of January 2024 but I realized I didn't end up doing a 2023 Series Overview and Summary, so I thought I'd do one now. Unlike the 2022 series overview where I was more prepared, had watched a lot more, and had even rewatched the favourites and almost-favourites of the year, I'm very unprepared this time.

So, it's gonna be shows & movies I watched in 2023 and my ratings for them until today (240128) without really having rewatched anything (except Beyond Evil).

I wonder if I'll rewatch some of these at the end of 2024 (along with the 2024 rewatches) and whether that'll change the rankings or my feelings at all.

I think I've decided that these yearly overviews will not change/be edited regardless of whether I come to really like a show afterward or change the ratings or whatever - a snapshot in time.

Favourite Shows

The shows released before 2023 will have (release year) beside them.

Top 3 Shows Watched in 2023:

Beyond Evil

My School President

Strangers From Hell (2019)

Beyond Evil: The only show that I watched in 2023 that I have since properly rewatched (I literally watched all 16 episodes this January 2024 without really skimming or speeding it up despite having watched the whole thing already. The characters, especially the mains Juwon and Dongshik gave me so many brainworms, the acting was great, the relationships among the characters was great, the mystery and suspense succeeded for me. Great show all around, actually it's making me wonder why it's a 8/10 and not at a 8.5.

My School President: This was so fun and introduced me to Gemini and Fourth, which was another delight. The OST and singing aspect of this was so good, for which I am eternally thankful. I think I liked the first half of the show better than the second half, which I thought for long-winded; otherwise, it might've also earned an 8 from me. Haven't rewatched the show properly but have watched some reactions to the earlier episodes and also listened to people's podcast episodes, as expected.

Strangers From Hell (2019): Out of these 3, this is the one I've thought the least about since watching and also haven't rewatched, so I remember the least about. So who knows, maybe I'll rewatch and be bored or something but it was so good while I watched it, the vibes so unsettling and strange and weird. Great acting, great story, should rewatch. It's also the first non-BL kdrama that I watched in a long time and was the reason I started watching more of them again, especially the thrillers/mysteries with no romance but homoerotic undertones lol

Next 4 - Liked A Lot:

Not quite the top 3 but I thoroughly enjoyed these. Unordered because they're all 7/10.

Moonlight Chicken

Derry Girls S1 (2018)

Alice in Borderland S1 (2020)

The Devil Judge (2021)

Only 1 BL, one non-BL with homoerotic undertones, 1 English-speaking comedy, and a death game thriller. Also from different countries: Thailand, Ireland, Japan, South Korea.

Ranges from fun/funny, thrilling, exciting, and heartfelt. They definitely all made an impression on me and have good acting/production value/story/etc, but maybe a thing or two disappointed me, or I just haven't connected with it enough to think about it too often. Still overall good shows that I liked a lot.

These were generally good, but just something was missing - either there was a production/story/acting issue that was bothering me a lot, or the production was very good, but it failed to take up any brain space after I finished watching. 6.5/10 in my rating.

Never Let Me Go

Midnight Motel

Choco Milk Shake (2022)

Happiness (2021)

Derry Girls S2 (2019)

Derry Girls S3 (2022)

A Shoulder To Cry On

So Long, See You Tomorrow (2021)

The Merciless (2017)

Bed Friend

Alice in Borderland S2 (2022)

Bloodhounds

The Eighth Sense

Enigma

Stay With Me

Our Dating Sim

High enjoyment or fondness, lacked in either production/acting/writing: Never Let Me Go, A Shoulder To Cry On (except the last ep rip), Stay With Me (it actually didn't lack in production and stuff either and is better than medium levels),

High production/acting, but lacked in making me care or be as invested as I should’ve been: Happiness, Alice in Borderland S2, Bloodhounds (okay idk where to put this because first 6 eps were so good - ep 6 itself is fucking wild but the ending sucked rip), The Eighth Sense, Our Dating Sim

These had medium levels of both production and fondness but not enough to think about often or be great: Midnight Motel, Choco Milk Shake, Derry Girls S2/S3, So Long, See You Tomorrow (can't remember a single thing about this but I must've liked it from my review of it lol), The Merciless, Bed Friend, Enigma,

I think these should be lower actually maybe, like a 6/10 not 6.5 but I haven't rewatched them and don't remember a lot, so who knows: The Merciless, Bloodhounds, Midnight Motel, Choco Milk Shake, Bed Friend

Could Climb Higher - could be bumped up to a 7/10 if I love it upon rewatch and end up thinking about the characters more: Stay With Me, Eigth Sense, Our Dating Sim

Special Mentions: The rest of the shows I watched were rated lower than 6.5/10, though there were still a few that I have some fondness for because I like the concept/the acting pair/it just gave me something I wanted. This includes Island (literally only Cha Eunwoo's cool young priest character), Our Skyy 2 (some eps), I Go To School Not By Bus (2015) (idk that specific running away to bathroom scene and making out is so good), We Are Gamily (2017), ummmm I skimmed through eps 10-15 of Addicted Heroin (2016) (didn't watch anything before that) but there are certain very specific parts that I liked and get why it gave everybody brainworms.

Favourite Pairs (characters):

Lee Dongshik/Han Juwon (Beyond Evil): They are not a real couple in the show and yet... have read so much fic about them and in my head, they are indeed in love after all this mess. I don't have much to say, I just love their antagonistic relationship turning into something so tender (though still jagged) and it turning into something more after the ending

Tinn/Gun (My School President): cuties, my cuties. Adorable.

Don't have a third one, I don't think? so strange

Special Mentions: 

Palm and Nueng (Never Let Me Go)

Heart and Li Ming (Moonlight Chicken)

in my head, Ajin and Fa (Enigma) -not canon

Favourite Pairs (actors):

Fourth and Gemini, I think they're the only pair that I became interested in 2023 and like followed fanaccounts and stuff. I'm so looking forward to them in future projects (My Love Mix-Up was at Q10 very recently, I'm waitingggg). Incredibly talented young people, both in terms of acting but also the performances they did at the concert like oh nice

Favourite Side Pairs

Can't remember a single one except Heart and Li Ming (Moonlight Chicken)

Biggest Disappointments

To be a disappointment, I had to have at least semi-high hopes

Be My Favorite: This one was a real disappointment because I've been looking forward to it for so long. In fact, I'd been looking forward to it since I saw the original trailer with Mike and people were still insisting they wouldn't watch it and were booing Krist because I thought the synopsis was intriguing and liked the chemistry of the ship. I was so happy when everybody seemed to love the show and it's such a shame that in the end, I'm the one who ended up bored and feeling nothing for this show...

Happiness: Not a super big disappointment because it was still a good show and it wasn't super hyped but I thought I'd like it more because I've only heard good things about it. Also thought I'd like it more when I first started because I liked the beginning few eps quite a bit before it fell into a lull in the middle.

General Stats

Total Watched: 44 entries in my spreadsheet, less than half of the 104 completed in 2022 - makes sense because I watched very little in the latter 6 months of 2023. Without the following below, 39 newly completed series/movies/shorts in 2023.

1 DNF (The New Employee)

2 Rewatches (Midnight 2021, Kiss Me Again Pete/Kao cut)

1 Survival Show (Boys Planet)

1 extreme skimming (Addicted Heroin 2016)

Release date 2023 vs earlier: 23 vs 21

Almost half and half, interestingly. My to-watch list now has fewer BL/GL from earlier than 2023 but more het/non-romance kdramas from earlier since I've watched a lot of the earlier BLs that I'm interested in but have barely dipped into kdramas.

Queer vs non-queer: 23 vs 20

The non-queer shows may still have some queerness (Claire is a lesbian in Derry Girls, trans girl in Alice in Borderland, etc.) but it's not the main character or the main plot and not a significant enough side plot

lol didn't count Boys Planet in this but it feels queer fr

Also 50-50 surprisingly. Some non-queer shows like Derry Girls, Alice in Borderland, and Island have 2-3 seasons, so that bulks it up just a bit

BL vs GL in Queer shows: 21.5 vs 1.5

0.5 to each for We Are Gamily

rip my fawking GLs for reallll but hopefully I'll have a more fruitful lesbian-watching year because there are like 5 that I have on MDL that seem promising (and have also watched Bottoms this January)

Romance-Centric vs Non-Romantic in Non-Queer Shows: 3 vs 17

in the Non-Romantic shows, this many shows have very homoerotic undertones (regardless of whether I ship): ~6 (Bloodhounds, Midnight Museum, Beyond Evil, Devil Judge, Strangers From Hell, The Merciless)

Some of these also had het undertones/side couples: 5 (Tomorrow, Island S1/S2, Enigma, Midnight Motel)

Number of shows per month: 6, 4, 10, 4, 5, 7, 7 (July to November), 0

Please this funny spread, I really just fell off on watching shows in the last half of the month because I was preoccupied with ZB1

Didn't count Boys Planet (August)

Average rating: 6.3 (higher than last year, so that's nice)

[dragonomatopoeia]

I was not joking about how i was going to start citing sources in our dating sim podcast. especially in light of bustafellows' drawn-out performance of Plato's Allegory of the Police Procedural

Evaludate Episode 92: Insufferable Convention (Limbo Scott Fitzgerald of Bustafellows, Part 3)

Summary:

Today on Evaludate: you know who's Really hurt by the oppression of immigrants? This old-money white American lawyer. Adam continues to steal Limbo's route, and Bustafellows decides their narrative space is better spent on an Inspirational Terminal Child than building any chemistry between its leads.

Content Warnings:

Child Death: (1:05:26 - 1:15:44)

Sources Referenced:

Review of Conflicting Commitments: The Politics of Enforcing Immigration Worker Rights in San Jose and Houston, by Shannon Gleeson

Citations Needed Podcast Episode 93: 100 Years of US Media Fueling Anti-Immigrant Sentiment

[bubonickitten]

Fic summary: Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Previous chapter: AO3 // tumblr

Full chapter text & content warnings below the cut.

Content warnings for Chapter 29: discussion of Jon’s & Daisy’s restrictive diets & associated physical/mental deterioration (and potential parallels with disordered eating etc.); arguing & relationship disputes (that are not immediately resolved in-chapter); self-harm (burning oneself with a lit cigarette); cigarette smoking; discussion of suicidal ideation; panic & anxiety symptoms; discussions of grief & loss; cyclical mental health issues (post-traumatic anniversary reactions; related self-loathing, internalized victim blaming, & survivor’s guilt; generally speaking, Jon’s relapsing into self-isolating, worse-than-usual headspace, esp towards the end of the chapter); depiction of parental neglect/rejection (Martin's mother). SPOILERS through S5.

There’s also a Hunt-themed statement that contains descriptions of indiscriminate violence & unprovoked warfare against a civilian population. Oh, and a cliffhanger.

Let me know if I missed anything!

_________________

“Statements ends,” Jon says, somewhat breathless as he fumbles to stop the recording.

“You alright?” Daisy asks.

“Fine.” The word is punctuated by a click and a whirr as the recorder resumes spooling.

“Are you, though?”

“Yes.” Scowling, Jon jabs his finger at the stop button – only for it to keep recording.

“It’s the Hunt, isn’t it.” Daisy sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry it’s been so prominent for the last few. I’m… not quite scraping the bottom of the barrel yet, but–”

“It’s fine, Daisy.”

“Still, I–”

“I said it’s fine–!” Jon winces at his sharp tone. “I’m sorry, that was… I’m just – on edge, I suppose.”

Which is an understatement, really.

Because it’s September. It’s September, and after September is October, and October is–

Well. These days, he can’t even look at a calendar – can’t even look at the time and date on his phone – without icy dread coursing through his veins.

Sporadic flashbacks have become an everyday occurrence, set off by the smallest of stimuli: a dropped glass shattering on the breakroom floor becomes a window bursting inward into shards; a thunderstorm heralds a fissuring sky, marred by hundreds upon thousands of greedy, unblinking voyeurs; his own voice is a doomsday harbinger, a key crammed into a lock he can’t keep from unbolting. The memories are too immediate, too vivid to feel past-tense.

It’s to be expected. Studies, common knowledge, and anecdotal evidence all point to the impact of anniversaries on mental health. He knows what a textbook post-traumatic stress response looks like. Monster or not, in this particular sense he remains overwhelmingly human. No matter how much he rationalizes it, though, intellectually understanding a psychological phenomenon does little to soften the lived experience of it.

And it does nothing to temper the chilling knowledge – bordering on conviction – that it may happen again.

“Would be worrisome if you weren’t stressed out, considering… you know. Everything.” Daisy leans back in her chair, stretches her legs out in front of her, and rolls her shoulders. “Speaking of the Hunt. Any new developments?”

“I mean… nothing since yesterday? Everything I know, Basira knows.”

“Basira… isn’t keeping me updated,” Daisy says, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“Ah,” Jon says, with tact to spare. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

Daisy sighs. “She thinks that I think she’s wasting her time.”

“And do you?”

Daisy gives a jerky shrug. “Don’t you?”

“Not… necessarily,” Jon hedges. Truthfully, his answer to that question is as mercurial as his moods these days, shifting from hour to hour, sometimes minute to minute. Daisy gives him an unimpressed look. “I won’t lie and say I’m optimistic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying.”

“You sound like Martin.”

“Well, he spent ample time drilling it into me,” Jon says with a wry smile. “I don’t have the same capacity for hope as he does, but improbable doesn’t mean impossible. If I’d had it my way, I’d have lain down and died ages ago. I’m only here now because of him.”

“Mental health check,” Daisy says automatically.

“Not thinking of hurting myself,” Jon replies, just as rote. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I’ve told you, I’m physically incapable of killing myself even if I wanted to.”

“That doesn’t stop you brooding.”

“Anyway, I wasn’t referring to anything recent.”

“Weren’t you, though?” At his blank look, Daisy gives an impatient sigh. “It hasn’t even been a year since you woke up, Sims. Up until six months ago, you were wandering an apocalyptic wasteland–”

“…I found myself utterly alone. Facing down a room full of nothing eyes, willing myself to take action. I never did, though–”

“–I wanted to act, to help, to do something, but – my mind had all but seized up, and I felt helpless to do anything but watch as events progressed–”

“–there was nothing I could do to save him – he died – so did any hope I had of – doing good in the world–”

“–there’s a sort of numbness that you adopt after months or years of bombing–”

“–I did spend a lot of time just… slumped in despair – had no reason to think it would help, but I could see no choice but waiting for death–”

“–hoping against hope that – it wouldn’t be forever–”

“Hey!” Daisy’s voice finally breaks through the rush of static. Or perhaps it was the pressure: Jon looks down to see her bony fingers caging his own in a bruising grip.

“Sorry,” he says, catching himself as he starts to list woozily.

“Not to say ‘I told you so,’ but…” Daisy gives his hands another light squeeze. “You sort of just proved my point there.”

“I’m well aware that I’m – traumatized, or whatever–”

“Not ‘or whatever’–”

“–but I’m not a danger to myself, so could we please just move on?” Jon mumbles, averting his eyes. “You wanted a Hunt update.”

Daisy scrutinizes him for a long moment before she allows the conversational pivot to stand.

“Basira said you’ve heard back from that Head Librarian,” she says, “but she blew me off when I started prying.”

“Zhang Xiaoling,” Jon says, his shoulders relaxing. “She was able to confirm some of Jonah’s intel. They do have a statement about a book matching that description in their records, and she agreed to forward a copy once it’s been digitized. They’re further along in their digitization process than we are–”

Daisy snorts. “Probably because they’re actually working on it.”

“That, and they have the benefit of a Head Librarian who actually has a background in archival studies,” Jon says drily. “In any case, they have a large archive, so it’s a work in progress. She’s processed our inquiry, though, and she says she has someone on it. We should hear back by tomorrow at the latest.”

“Huh,” Daisy says. “Sounds…”

“Like a functioning archive?”

“I was going to say ‘streamlined,’ but sure.”

“The wonders of a hiring process that prioritizes job qualifications as opposed to a candidate’s apocalyptic potential.”

“What are the chances their institution is also led by a centuries-old corpse with a god complex?”

“Non-zero, I imagine.”

Daisy wrinkles her nose. “Ugh, don’t say that.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t have evidence one way or the other.”

“It doesn’t. Does she know about…” Daisy waves her hand vaguely. “All of this? The Fears, Rituals… Jonah?”

The question gives Jon pause. He thinks back to his meeting with Xiaoling all those years ago – well, last June, from her perspective.

“Some of it, I think,” he says slowly. “She seemed familiar with some of the Archivist’s abilities. There were parts of my visit that struck me as odd at the time. I didn’t realize until later that she had been speaking both Chinese and English at different points in our conversation.”

Daisy frowns. “She didn’t clue you in?”

“She didn’t, no. But…”

Elias made a good choice, the Librarian’s voice echoes in Jon’s mind. I did offer him someone, but he thought the language might be too much for him.

It does tickle me, Jonah’s voice chimes in, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose.

“I don’t know if she’s aware of Elias’ true identity.” Jon swallows with some difficulty, his mouth suddenly dry. “Or his intentions.”

“So is it really smart to trust her?”

“If she’s in communication with him, there’s nothing she can tell him that he doesn’t already know. We’re just following up on information he gave us. And he’s likely spying on our correspondence whether she’s in contact with him or not. Not much we can do about that.”

“She could have her own ulterior motives,” Daisy says.

“True enough, but… I got the sense that her primary interest is curation. Studying phenomena, building a knowledge base–”

“In service to cosmic evil,” Daisy says pointedly.

“W-well, yes, but – I don’t think she has delusions of godhood herself, and I don’t think Jonah has tempted her with the idea.” Jon huffs to himself. “He wouldn’t want to share his throne.”

“Hm.”

“I’m not saying we trust her or the Research Centre as a whole. I had reservations about their motives then and I still do. It’s not unthinkable that they’re a front for something more sinister in the same way that the Institute is. But… I don’t think there’s any especial danger in utilizing their library.”

“Sims,” Daisy sighs, “your danger meter is broken beyond repair.”

“In my defense,” Jon says, bracing one arm on the desk to leverage himself to his feet, “at this point, everything is just differing degrees of dangerous.”

As the two of them leave the tunnels, Jon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. When he glances at the screen, he sees a text notification from Naomi – in addition to two missed calls. He frowns to himself. The two of them text regularly, but she rarely calls.

“What’s up?” Daisy asks, her brow furrowing in concern.

“Naomi,” Jon says distractedly, already returning the call. Naomi picks up on the first ring.

“Jon?” Naomi’s voice sounds thick and tear-clogged.

A cold weight settles in Jon’s stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“I j-just” – Naomi pauses to clear her throat – “just needed to hear a familiar voice.”

“What happened?” Jon asks – and realizes too late that in his urgency to discover the source of her distress, he’s poured too much of himself into the question.

“Nothing.” What starts out as a self-deprecating little laugh quickly deteriorates into a half-sob. “Nothing new, anyway. It’s always like this, this time of year. Evan and I didn’t have an exact date planned, but we’d talked about an autumn wedding. Thought it would be fitting, since we met in September, you know? Tomorrow is our anniversary, actually. Or – or it would’ve been. A-and then by the time I’ve picked myself back up, the holidays will have crept up on me, and that’s always hard, and – and then before I know it, it’s March, a-and that’s its own kind of anniversary, and it’s just… it’s a lot.”

“Oh, I – Naomi, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” she says with a sniff. “Don’t think I would’ve been able to get it all out, otherwise.”

“S-still, I–”

“It’ll be three years this March. And it still feels like it was yesterday. I spend six months out of the year feeling like I’m still stumbling through that cemetery, and I just…”

This time last year, Jon thinks with a lurch, I was still the monster in her nightmares.

And even now, he still pulls her there whenever they’re both asleep.

“When does that stop?” Naomi laughs again, a desperate, pleading thing. “When does the healing come in?”

“I… I don’t know,” Jon says truthfully. “Anniversaries are… they’re hard enough on their own. It doesn’t help that… well, it’s difficult to heal from something when you’re still living it.”

“What do you mean? Evan’s dead,” Naomi says, her voice breaking on the word. “He’s not coming back. It’s… it’s over.”

“There are still the dreams. The narrative might have changed, but the stage dressing is still the same.” Jon draws his shoulders in, one arm pressed tight to his stomach. “Keeping the memory fresh.”

“It’s not so bad.” Naomi sniffles again. “Better than being alone.”

“‘Alone’ or ‘nightmares’ shouldn’t be your only options.”

“I have my own nightmares, you know,” Naomi counters, sounding slightly annoyed. “When I’m asleep and you’re not. And they’re worse, because in them, I actually am alone. Nothing supernatural about it. It’s just… me.” She sighs. “This time last year – and the year before – I didn’t have anyone. And I just… I didn’t – I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not,” Jon says. “Not anymore.”

“I – I know, but I…” Naomi takes a breath. “I was… I was thinking – maybe tomorrow I could come by.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says gently, “truly I am – but it’s not safe. Especially for you, especially right now. Not with Peter here.”

Naomi is already the equivalent of an unfinished meal to the Lonely. That, together with her association with Jon, is more than enough to mark her as a potential target should Peter take notice of her.

“Feels safer than being alone,” Naomi says. “The Duchess helps – a lot – but I…” She lets out a fond but tearful chuckle. “I can’t expect her to grasp the nuances of… grief, or loneliness, or what have you.”

“How about this,” Jon says. “We tell Georgie what’s going on – as much or as little as you’d like, even if it’s as simple as ‘I don’t want to be alone right now.’ I doubt she’d be opposed to having you over.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose. I mean, I – I’ve not spent much time with her outside of just… spamming the group chat with cat photos. I like her, but she’s your friend. I’m just… a friend of a friend.”

Nestled between the words is a familiar sentiment, unarticulated and nonetheless resounding, echoing all of the earnest conviction it had when first she made such a confession: All my friends had been his friends, and once he was gone it didn’t feel right to see them. I know, I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded, they would have said they were my friends too, but I could never bring myself to try. It felt more comfortable, more familiar, to be alone…

“People can have more than one friend,” Jon says. “I can’t speak for Georgie, but she wouldn’t go out of her way to talk to you if she didn’t like you.”

Indeed, that might be the reason Jon was able to open up to Georgie in the first place. He observed early on that she had no qualms disengaging from people whom she had no interest in getting to know. Whatever Jon might have felt about himself on any given day, the simple fact of the matter was that Georgie would never have let him get so close if she hadn’t seen something redeeming in him.

And she likely wouldn’t be letting him stay close now if she didn’t still see something worth salvaging.

“It’s up to you, of course,” he says. “I won’t pressure you. But I think Georgie would be more receptive to friendship than you expect. And I think – I think you’d get along with Melanie, too.” Naomi is silent on the other end of the line. “At the risk of overstepping, I… I know being alone feels like the natural state of things, but it doesn’t have to be. If you want, I can talk to Georgie. Lay the groundwork. I won’t give her any of the details – it’s not my story to tell – I’ll just let her know that you’re feeling alone and could use some companionship.”

“Okay,” Naomi whispers. “Just… let her know she’s not obligated.”

“I will. On the extremely off chance she says no, or if she’s busy tomorrow, I can keep you company remotely. We can spend the whole day holding up the office landline if you want.”

“It’s a Friday.”

“And?”

“It’s a work day?”

“Naomi, my job is wholly comprised of monologuing to any tape recorder that manifests within a six-foot radius and doing my utmost to render my department as counterproductive to both the Institute’s professed and clandestine organizational objectives as humanly or inhumanly possible.” Naomi barks out a startled laugh. “I won’t be fired no matter what I do – which is a shame, seeing as it became my foremost professional development goal somewhere between finding out my boss murdered my predecessor and virtually dying in an explosion at a haunted wax museum. Barring a sudden and unexpected apocalyptic threat – which, admittedly, is unlikely but not unthinkable– I’ve already cleared my non-existent schedule for you.”

“Okay.” Naomi makes a sound somewhere between a sniffle and a chuckle. “Thanks. Really.”

“Any time.”

_________________

The statement is an unnerving, circuitous thing: a firsthand account from an unnamed member of the Drake-Norris expedition in 1589. In many ways, it’s eerily similar to the last statement Jon accessed from Pu Songling’s archives: Second Lieutenant Charles Fleming’s shellshocked, guilt-fueled confession of atrocities committed under orders.

The historical record is rife with accounts of Francis Drake’s cruelty, Jon knows: his role in the transatlantic slave trade, the unprovoked massacres committed in his name, the preemptive strikes that incited further bloodshed. The statement giver speaks in awestruck horror of the bloodlust lurking in the man’s eyes, the vitriolic fervor with which he undertook his campaign to seek out and destroy the remnants of the Spanish fleet – and the depths of his rage when his efforts ended in defeat. Humiliated, he turned his vengeful eye to the Galician estuaries.

The writer tells plainly of his own complicity in the sacking of Vigo, razing the town to the ground and slaughtering its inhabitants with indiscriminate zeal. For four days Drake’s men carried out their rampage, retreating only when reinforcements arrived to stem the tide.

“You may ask yourself,” the Archivist reads on, “how it is that a man born into the reign of Good Queen Bess sits before you today, some four centuries past his due?

“You see, as we left the shores of Galicia that day, I heard from behind us a vicious braying, as if someone had set loose a great host of hounds. They were close – close enough for me to sense their stinking breath hot on the back of my neck. Such a thing was impossible, for we were by that time far from shore, having already rowed half the distance between the beach and the waiting armada. That did not stop me dreading the dogs lunging and tearing into me at any moment.

“I am not ashamed to admit that I let out a whimper.

“As the seconds ticked by and the pack failed to descend upon us, my curiosity grew to outweigh my terror. I turned to look – and was thus ensnared. It was, I realize now, the instant at which I became beholden to the blood. My greatest folly.

“Perhaps I oughtn’t have been so surprised to see no hounds surging toward us atop the waves, but you must understand that the proximity of their snarling was far more convincing than their visual absence. In looking behind us, though, I was able to appreciate the havoc we left in our wake: the great plumes of ash rising from the smoldering rubble, backlit by a flickering orange glow, and wails of despair so profound as to combat the noise of the wind, the waves – even the discordant shrieking of the hounds.

“It was a scene of such devastation as I had never seen before or since. Looking back, I think upon the acrid stench of charred flesh on the breeze with horror and… indescribable remorse. It shames me now to admit that at that time, I had never felt such… rapture.

“That was when a motion caught my eye. Between the distance and the billowing smoke, it should have been impossible to discern such detail, yet there he was: quarry I had left for dead, emerging from the debris and staggering away from the ruins of his… wretched life. As he looked out to behold our retreat, I could see the grief playing on his face, the fury, the fear – but what most set my blood to boiling was the spark of relief I saw in his eyes.

“It awakened something in me – a famished and merciless thing, composed of tooth and claw and a mind beginning and ending and utterly encompassed by the call of the pack. With a roaring in my ears and a single-minded violence supplanting my sensibilities, I deserted the rowboat and swam to shore. A chorus of howls carried me forward, and I let them be my wings, steering me down the swiftest, straightest path to my target.

“I slowed for nothing, and I made certain my prey did not live through the night.

“As you can likely guess, the chase did not end there. Those baying devils who had so called me forth continued to hound my steps, nipping at my heels, spurring me ever onward to the next quarry. Those who once knew me would scarcely have recognized what I became. Whenever I dared look into a mirror, I would see in myself a dogged, seething violence so akin to that which had lived in the eyes of my former commander. A cruelty that once had frightened and repulsed me had become the blood and breath of me.

“For a time I sought to refrain from the chase. The longer I refused the call, the weaker I became. The hounds’ breath on my neck grew hotter; their braying swelled louder. I found myself wasting away: always hungry, never sated. Eventually my faculties began to slip. I would lose myself to such… bestialimpulses, and only the stain of blood on my teeth would return to me my reason. It pains me to confess to you now that it did not take long before I ceased my resistance entirely.

“It was at the turn of the sixteenth century that I happened upon the artefacts now in your possession. Their previous owner was a formidable adversary. I spent nearly a fortnight tracking him before I managed to run him down, and he fought like a tempest before he fell.

“Ordinarily I did not linger after a kill, instinct hastening me ever onward to the next great game. As I turned to leave, though, I was overcome by the sense that the hunt was… unfinished. Troubled, I reached down to check the man’s pulse. I was reassured to find him quite dead, but as I drew back, I noticed the brooch.

“It was a simple thing made of tarnished copper, fashioned into an incomplete ring, the ends of which resembled the heads of dogs. The moment my fingers brushed that ornament, I knew it was meant for me. It went into my pocket with nary a conscious thought.

“The itch of the hunt was still crawling down my spine, though; the frantic snuffling of phantom hounds yet filling the air all around me. I continued to search his person until I found what was calling out to me: a thin volume bound in leather. Curiosity ever my folly, I opened it.

“Up until that point, I had never learned to read nor write Latin with any degree of mastery. Yet I could understand the text within with perfect clarity. The script did not transform to English before my eyes, nor did the book render me proficient in the language. No, I simply… beheld the pages, and the meaning flowed into me.

“The story tells of Herla, legendary king of the Britons, who visits the dwarf king’s realm. Upon leaving, he is gifted a hound and warned not to dismount his horse until the dog leaps down. When Herla and his men return to the human world, they discover that not days but centuries have passed: all those they had known have long since perished, and the Saxons have taken possession of the land. In their distress, some of the men dismount, whereupon they turn to dust. Herla warns the survivors to stay in their saddles, to wait until the dog leaps down.

“‘The dog has not yet alighted,’ the author tells us, ‘and the story says that this King Herla still holds on his mad course with his band in eternal wanderings, without stop or stay.’

“The next several pages are unreadable. The language resembles none I have ever encountered, and I have yet to find a soul who can decipher it. I can however attest its hypnotic qualities. I have spent many hours mired in those words, but I could not for the life of me tell you what I saw there. Others to whom I presented the text found themselves either enthralled or agitated, though none could recall such episodes once lucidity returned to them. I expect you mean to unravel its secrets, but you may do well to let its mystery stand.

“The final passage – a single page, this written in English – tells of Herla’s escape: how, weary and driven to despair, he casts the dog from the saddle and into the River Wye. The instant the hound hits the water, Herla and his band crumble into dust, at last meeting the same fate they spent so many hundreds of years trying to outpace.

“I have had hundreds of years of my own since first reading the tale to digest its message, and that is why I come to you today. Although I have killed several times since these items came into my possession – it should come as no surprise that there are those who covet them – I have not sought out a single hunt since I vanquished the man who yielded me these trinkets. The hounds at my heel have not ceased their clamoring, but so long as the brooch is on my person, they cannot sink their teeth in me. I am always hungry, yes – but I am no longer starving.

“But I am also weary. I have come to understand that even as the hounds can never catch me, they will never leave me. In my four hundred years, I have played the role of both the hunter and the hunted, and have learned that they share the same ultimate plight. Whether I be predator or prey, I am trapped in the throes of an endless pursuit. So long as I should live, my blood shall never quiet.

“And that is the key: so long as I should live. Even now, the fervor in my blood insists that the hunt is eternal, but I know now that one cannot outrun one’s end forever. Much like my constant, howling companions, Death will always be nipping at my heels. In that sense, he is perhaps the ultimate hunter. Just as I have delivered to him so many souls, neither can I escape his judgment. If ever I am to rest, I must bow to his supremacy.

“And so, like Herla, I shall cast the dog away from the saddle. I leave it in your care now, and the book. I should be so lucky to exit this life with the dignity I denied so many others, though I fear I shall be found undeserving of such a swift end. I can only hope that, whatever my comeuppance should be, I shall have the grace to accept it without complaint.”

With a heavy exhale, Jon depresses the stop button on the recorder, then puts his head in his hands, putting pressure on his closed eyes.

“You alright?” Basira asks.

“More than I’d like,” Jon mutters.

“If I thought there was any chance this guy was still alive, I wouldn’t have given you the statement to read.”

“I know. Just…” Jon waves his hand vaguely.

“Unpleasant, yeah.”

And rejuvenating, Jon thinks bitterly. It’s only been a few days since his last statement from Daisy, and already he had begun to feel famished.

“They sent along some supplemental records,” Basira says, rifling through printouts. “The statement is cross-referenced with two objects in their Collections Storage – here.”

The document she slides across the desk contains two catalog listings:

Item No. 9820702-1

Description: Pennanular brooch, copper alloy. Geometric and interlace motifs. Confronted zoomorphic terminals (canine profile). Moderate surface oxidization and patination. Dimensions: 5.5cm x 4.5cm body; 12.5cm pin. Artefact dated ca. 500–700 CE.

Properties: Primary subject (Case No. 9820702) reports mediating effect on the Hunter’s affliction (unverified). Item implicated in subject’s alleged abnormal longevity (unverified). Further study suggests dormancy and/or lack of reactivity to unafflicted subjects (see associated Investigation Log).

Storage: Special Collections – Inorganic Storage, Container Unit No. 982-05. Acid-free board housing, etherfoam packing. Environmental parameters in brief: maintain stable temperature (16-20°C); relative humidity, 32-35%; light levels, <300 lux. Handling protocols as per Acquisitions & Collections Policies and Procedures §3.5.3: Artefact Preservation – Metals – Copper and Copper Alloys.

Access: Upon request. Curator approval required prior to initial visit. Applicants may submit statement of intent to Acquisitions & Collections Department Head Curator for clearance. Terms, procedures, and degree of supervision subject to Curator’s discretion.

Provenance: Surrendered 2nd July, 1982 upon receipt of accompanying statement (Case No. 9820702), subject name unknown. See also Item No. 9820702-2.

Appendices:

· Investigation Log No. 9820702-1;

· Supplemental Documents Nos. 9820702-1.01 through -1.03.

Cross-reference:

· Case No. 9820702;

· Item No. 9820702-2;

· Acquisitions & Collections Catalog §3.6.4: Antiquities – Adornments and Jewelry (Inert).

Item No. 9820702-2

Description: Bound manuscript. Front and back covers unembellished leather (source undetermined) stretched over wood board (source undetermined). Leather cord binding (calf, bovine). Paper and parchment leaves. Ink corrosion and paper degradation present but minimal (fair condition inconsistent with age and media). Dimensions: 8.8cm x 14.0cm x 2.5cm. Artefact dated ca. 1190–1450 CE.

Contents: Eighteen (18) pages total, one-sided.

· Title page (1) iron gall ink on parchment (sheepskin): Gualterius Mappus – De nugis curialium – xi. De Herla rege

· Pages two (2) through four (4) iron gall ink on paper (hemp pulp, linen fiber): Medieval Latin (ca. 12th century) script.

· Pages five (5) through sixteen (16) ink (chemical composition undetermined) on paper (cotton fiber): alphabetic script (unknown roots); refer to Supplemental Document No. 9820702-2.03 for comparative linguistic analysis (inconclusive).

· Page seventeen (17) ink (chemical composition undetermined) on paper (cotton fiber): Middle English (ca. 15th century) script.

· Page eighteen (18) parchment (sheepskin): blank.

Transcripts and translations (where possible) provided in Supplemental Document No. 9820702-2.01*.

Properties: Primary subject (Case No. 9820702) reports total comprehension of Latin portions of the text despite lack of proficiency. Text alleged to diverge from source material (De nugis curialium – Map, Walter, fl. 1200). Both claims verified upon further examination (see associated Investigation Log). Probable association with the Hunter’s affliction.

Storage: Special Collections – Secure Storage. Environmental parameters in brief: maintain temperature at 20-22°C; relative humidity, 32-36%; light levels, ≤50 lux. Housing and handling protocols as per Acquisitions & Collections Policies and Procedures §2.5.5: Document Preservation – Premodern Inks – Iron Gall and §9.2: Special Precautions – Occult and Esoteric Texts.

Access: Restricted.

Provenance: Surrendered 2nd July, 1982 upon receipt of accompanying statement (Case No. 9820702), subject name unknown. See also Item No. 9820702-1.

Appendices:

· Investigation Log No. 9820702-2;

· Supplemental Documents Nos. 9820702-2.01* through -2.07;

· Incident Report No. 9930214.

Cross-reference:

· Case No. 9820702;

· Item No. 9820702-1;

· Acquisitions & Collections Catalog §2.1.1: Archival Media – Occult Books (Active);

· Interdepartmental Bulletin No. 9941002, “The Library of Jurgen Leitner: Lessons Learned.”

*Addendum, 16th February, 1993:Supplemental Document No. 9820702-2.01 reclassified as Restricted Access. Direct all inquiries to Pu Songling Research Library Head Librarian or Acquisitions & Collections Department Head Curator.

“So?” Basira prods. “What do you make of it?”

“Well, assuming the statement is a reliable account, it seems…”

“Promising, right?” Basira says, her eagerness tinted with relief. “If we can–”

She stops abruptly as the tape recorder on the table clicks back on.

“I think that’s our cue to move this conversation elsewhere,” Jon says.

Not that it will stop the tape recorders from listening in, but he has no desire to make Jonah’s surveillance any easier for him.

_________________

It takes some hemming and hawing, but Jon manages to convince Basira that this really ought to be a group discussion. As she recaps the statement and shares her own remarks, Jon keeps a close eye on the other two people in the room. Martin is listening attentively, leaning forward slightly but otherwise at ease. Daisy, though… she’s all corded muscles and jittery legs, taut and precarious on the edge of her seat.

All the while, Basira appears impervious to the storm brewing in Daisy’s eyes, even as Martin catches on and begins chewing on the inside of his cheek, darting nervous glances between the two of them. By the time Basira finishes her overview, the tension in the air is palpable, nearly electric.

For several seconds, no one speaks.

“So,” Martin says, his voice a bit pitchy. He clears his throat before continuing. “Magical, Fear-resistant brooch, huh?”

“It wouldn’t be unheard of,” Jon says. “Remember what I told you about Mikaele Salesa?”

“The apocalypse-proof bubble? Yeah.”

“That camera of his didn’t just protect him from the Eye, it hid him from the Powers in general.”

“What was the catch?” Daisy asks pointedly. “Got to be a catch.”

“Does there?” Martin asks. His hesitant smile falls at Daisy’s blank stare, and he tilts his head back with a sigh. “Yeah, alright.”

“It’s… not entirely benign, no,” Jon says. “In Salesa’s statement, he called it a ‘battery’–”

“–charging itself on all the quiet worries that come from living in hiding, and then when the sanctuary collapses, all that fear flows out at once. No doubt, if my oasis breaks before I die, the Eye will get quite the feast from me, but in this new world–”

“That’s enough of that, I think,” Martin says, resting a hand on Jon’s arm.

Jon bites his tongue, shuts his eyes, and takes a deep breath in, only daring to speak once the tingling on his lips subsides. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” Martin offers him a reassuring smile. “Just didn’t want you getting bogged down.”

“That’s one term for it,” Jon says, not quite under his breath. It’s true enough, though. Sometimes it feels like the Archive is pressed up against the door, watching for the tiniest crack, waiting for any opportunity to surge through and drag him under. Lately, Martin has grown uncannily adept at sensing when to interrupt these lapses before they spiral out of control – likely because they’ve been growing more frequent.

“That’s what I thought,” Daisy says. Puzzled at the apparent non-sequitur, Jon glances at her, but she isn’t looking at him. All of her attention is focused on Basira. “This thing is probably the same. It’s not some… some harmless miracle solution. If we mess around with it, it’s bound to blow up in our faces sooner or later.”

“I’m… not sure about that, actually,” Jon says. “The brooch didn’t free the Hunter, it just made it so he couldn’t be caught. I think that’s what it was feeding on – the Hunter’s gradual awareness that he was no different from the hunted, that sensation of being perpetually stalked from the shadows by a greater predator. It spent centuries charging itself on that fear, and it culminated in the realization that he would never escape it. He would always be waiting for the axe to fall, and Hunt was happy to keep him as perpetual prey. If he wanted the chase to end, he had to give up the artefact – and once it was no longer keeping him in stasis, he had a choice to make.”

“Go back to hunting, or let it catch him.” Daisy breathes a humorless laugh. “The Hunt, or the End.”

“But it would keep you alive,” Basira says. “It would buy us time to find a way to free you for real.”

“What about the Leitner?” Martin asks. “That’s what Jonah sent us after in the first place.”

“Turns out it’s not actually from Leitner’s library,” Jon says. “No bookplate, and it seems the statement giver had it in his possession since the 1500s. It’s… difficult to tell from the statement whether it had any significant effect on him. He called it ‘hypnotic,’ but he was already a Hunter by the time he found it. I imagine it might have different effects on someone not already under the Hunt’s influence.”

“He sort of alluded to that.” Basira takes a moment to peruse the statement, running her finger along the page until she finds the relevant line. “Here – they ‘found themselves either enthralled or agitated.’ A bit obscure, but… he says it like it’s an afterthought. If it outright turned anyone into a Hunter, he probably would’ve said so.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous,” Daisy says.

“I never said it wasn’t,” Basira replies coolly. “The record references a transcript, so I assume they had someone read it at some point. And it also mentions an incident report.”

“What was the incident?” Martin asks.

“Don’t know,” Basira says. “They didn’t provide any of the supplemental documentation, just the catalogue listing and the statement itself. But they acquired the book in ‘82 and didn’t make the transcript restricted until ‘93, so… either it was dormant when they first studied it and became active later, or they didn’t study it closely enough to activate its effects, or it doesn’t affect everyone the same way, or – or maybe their workplace safety guidelines just changed and they decided not to risk studying it anymore.”

“Jonah did say something about its effects varying depending on how much of it a person reads, right?” Martin asks. “Though who knows where he got that from.”

“There might be some truth to that,” Basira says. “The catalogue entry does describe what’s on the title page, so I’m assuming that part at least is safe. I’m most curious about the untranslated chunk in the middle.”

And I’m a universal translator, Jon thinks, fidgeting with the drawstring of his hoodie. Basira’s eyes flick to him, as if reading his mind.

“I… suppose I could–”

“No,” Martin and Daisy say simultaneously.

Jon scowls. “You didn’t even let me finish the–”

“You threw yourself into the Buried – twice – to save me,” Daisy says severely. “You can’t keep sacrificing yourself at every opportunity.”

“I wouldn’t be–”

“What, re-traumatizing yourself by reading a Leitner?” Jon shuts his mouth, pressing his lips tightly together. “It’s not worth it, Sims.”

“Daisy,” Basira begins, but Daisy cuts her off.

“No. I’m not having him throw himself to the wolves just because you’re curious.”

Basira flinches, hurt momentarily crossing her face before her expression goes stony.

“You really think that’s what this is about?” she says, her voice shaking. “Knowledge for knowledge’s sake? Me being curious?”

“You can’t tell me you’re not,” Daisy says, and then her expression softens. “And I love that about you, I do – you’re brilliant, Basira – and driven, and passionate, and…” She sighs. “But sometimes… sometimes you need to let things go.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jon notices Martin cross and uncross his legs, his lower lip captured between his teeth. When Jon catches his eye, Martin jerks his chin minutely at Basira and Daisy, a grimace on his face. All Jon can offer is a helpless, equally awkward shrug. Near as he can tell, Basira and Daisy seem to have momentarily forgotten that they have an audience, and judging from their locked eyes and thunderous expressions, he doubts either of them would appreciate a reminder right this second.

“Let you go, you mean,” Basira says tersely. “When you say ‘it’s not worth it,’ what you really mean is that you’re not worth it.”

“Well, I’m not.”

The cavalier tone is the last straw, it seems.

“Why won’t you just let me help you?” Basira slams her hand down on the rickety table, straining its wobbly legs. “You’re just so ready to–” She lets out a frustrated groan. “You never used to give up this easily.”

“Maybe should’ve done,” Daisy says flatly. “Might’ve lowered my body count.”

“Giving up Hunting doesn’t have to mean giving up on living,” Basira says. “I might have finally found an alternative, and you won’t even consider–”

“I’m not doing anything that’s going to hurt someone, and that includes exposing Jon to a fucking Leitner.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Jon mutters testily, the friction finally getting the better of his nerves. “Don’t I get a say?”

“No, you don’t,” Daisy says, rounding on him. Now that all of her brimming agitation is funneled in his direction, he regrets saying anything at all. “Because lately, whenever I ask you if you want to hurt yourself, the best you can give me is ‘it doesn’t matter because I can’t die anyway.’”

“Jon?” Martin says urgently, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Th-that’s not what I–”

“You’re not thinking rationally,” Daisy speaks over Jon’s stammering. “You’re thinking like a condemned man with a rope around his neck and something to prove, and I’m not going to be the noose you use to hang yourself with.”

“Will you listen to yourself?” Basira says heatedly. “You get on my case about double standards–”

“That’s enough!” Martin bursts out. “This isn’t helping. Daisy’s right, Jon. You’re not going anywhere near that book – I don’t want to hear it,” he adds before Jon can retort. “Not now, anyway. We’ll talk later. But Basira’s right, too,” Martin says, turning his attention to Daisy. “You can’t make amends by dying, and you can’t do better going forward if you’re not alive to try.”

“Who says I deserve a chance?” Daisy says.

“Whatever you think you ‘deserve’” – Martin gives Jon a meaningful glance as he says it – “you’ve got a chance, and people who want to help you through it, and you ought to consider that before you assume you’d do more good dead than alive.” He exhales a sharp breath. “Anyway, forget the Leitner, and forget what Jonah said about it. The brooch seems like the more promising option here.”

“I agree,” Jon says, cowed. “Between the book and the brooch, the statement giver credited the latter with keeping the Hunt at bay. And perhaps my bias is showing, but truthfully I – I’m not inclined to see those books as anything but tragedies waiting to happen.”

“What’s the difference?” Daisy says flatly. “It took a decade for something bad enough to happen for them to make the Leitner’s transcript restricted. The brooch could be just as much of a time bomb. Just because it doesn’t have any ‘incidents’ connected with it now doesn’t mean it never will.”

She isn’t wrong. Looking back, Jon had found it infuriating that Leitner would continue meddling with the books even after he witnessed the horror they wrought, all while claiming to have learned from his hubris. Just because this particular artefact isn’t a book doesn’t make it any less ominous.

And yet…

“I think it’s already shown its more sinister side,” Jon says slowly.

“You think,” Daisy scoffs.

“It doesn’t give a Hunter strength, it makes them perpetual prey. It… won’t be pleasant for you, I’m sure,” Jon admits, “but Basira’s right – it could keep you alive while we search for a better solution.”

“There might not be a better solution,” Daisy says stubbornly.

“Which is what I said before you browbeat me into taking statements from you,” Jon counters.

“I didn’t browbeat–” Jon raises his eyebrows. Daisy gives a flustered groan. “It’s just – it’s different, okay?”

Much as Jon wants to disagree, he knows better than to argue. They’d only end up talking in circles.

“I think it’s an avenue worth pursuing,” he says. “Given the alternatives.”

“Please, Daisy,” Basira says. “Just… consider it, at least.”

The for me remains unspoken, but Jon can hear it loud and clear. As can Daisy, it seems – the defiant set to her jaw falters for a moment before she tenses again.

“Fine,” she says grudgingly. “But if it starts to go south–”

“If it manifests any new properties, we’ll prioritize containing it over interacting with it,” Jon says.

“You promise?” Daisy asks, but she looks at Basira when she says it. It takes a moment, but Basira does nod.

“Do you think Pu Songling will let us have it?” Martin asks. “Seems like their protocols are…”

“Rigorous?” Jon supplies.

“You’d almost think they were running an academic institution or something,” Basira says drily.

“Yeah, but treating the artefacts like museum pieces, it’s… it’s weird, isn’t it?” Martin says. “It’s not as if they’re fragile, right? They’re held together by… nightmare alchemy, or whatever.”

“I suppose it’s to be expected,” Jon says. “I know the Librarian has a degree in information science. And I recall her telling me that the Curator is an historian with a background in museology. But you’re right – it would be nice if Leitners were as delicate as the average old manuscript.”

“At least they’re flammable,” Daisy mutters.

“We spoke with the Head Curator,” Basira says. “She’s willing to work out a trade.”

“A trade?” Martin asks.

“Knowledge for knowledge,” Jon says. “An artefact for an artefact. I get the impression that the Librarian and the Curator are both very… collections-oriented. True to their titles, I suppose.”

“Hold up,” Daisy says. “‘The Librarian,’ ‘the Curator’ – are those just job titles, or are they, like… Beholding Avatar titles?” Jon blinks at her, perplexed. “I mean – the way you keep saying them, it’s sort of like…”

“What, ‘Archivist’?” Jon gnaws on his thumbnail as he pauses to consider. “I… don’t know, actually. I wasn’t really doing it consciously? It just…” He shrugs helplessly. “It felt right.”

“Is it coming from the Eye, then?”

“I have no idea, Basira.” Jon leans forward, props his elbows on his knees, and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Hm.”

“In any case…” Jon exhales slowly, forcing himself to sit up straight again. “They seem to take the research and curation aspects of their roles to heart. They aren’t reckless with their pursuits, they take ample precautions, but the scholars at Pu Songling do study the items that come into their possession. And from what I understand, the Curator takes avid interest in adding to their collection. Same as the Archivist’s role is to record stories. To what extent her efforts are driven by her connection to the Eye versus her own innate curiosity, I couldn’t tell you, no more than I can make that distinction in myself.”

“Sort of a chicken-or-egg situation, then,” Daisy says.

“From an evolutionary perspective, the egg came first,” Jon says automatically. “Amniotic eggs have been around for over three hundred million years. Birds originated in the Jurassic, true galliforms didn’t evolve until at least the Late Cretaceous, phasianids don’t appear in the fossil record until about thirty million years ago, and chickens as we know them were only domesticated about eight thousand years ago–”

“Oh my god,” Daisy groans, putting her head in her hands.

“What?” Jon says, heat rising in his cheeks as Martin muffles a snicker beneath his hand. “I’m not wrong.”

“Pu Songling’s Collections Department is larger than our Artefact Storage,” Basira interjects, “but the, uh… Curator has a shortlist of artefacts she’s been on the lookout for. I checked our records and found a match. A ring – probably belongs to the Vast, based on the reports surrounding it. Looks like the Institute purchased it from Salesa in 2014, shortly before his disappearance. The Curator considers it an ‘equitable exchange,’ but she still wants to assess the ring in person before making the trade.”

“And we still have to talk to Sonja,” Jon adds. “On the one hand, she likely wouldn’t object to being rid of an artefact, but on the other hand… I imagine she won’t be keen on letting it out into the world.”

“I think it would be a harder sell if you were just going to swap it out for another artefact – something unfamiliar that they’d have to develop all new protocols for,” Martin says. “But yeah, even if you won’t be making the brooch her problem, she’ll probably still want to know what we want with it. And I can see her pressing the Curator on why she wants the ring when she gets here.”

“The Curator won’t be coming here,” Basira says evenly, casting a surreptitious glance at Daisy to gauge her reaction. “Says she’s too busy to travel.”

“So you have to haul the ring up to her,” Daisy says.

“I mean” – Basira breathes an uneasy laugh – “it’s a ring. Not much hauling involved–”

“Oh, don’t start–”

“–and there are precautions I can take. Looks like Artefact Storage has relatively thorough documentation for this one.”

“‘Relatively’?” Daisy repeats, unimpressed. “You were just complaining about how sparse their records are. ‘Relatively’ isn’t saying much.”

“Well, it’s better than nothing.” Basira rubs at her face. “I have to do this. Just… trust me.”

“You know I do–”

“Then let me have your back,” Basira says, practically pleading. “Let me help you.”

“Fine,” Daisy mutters, her posture going slack. “Do what you want.”

It’s not exactly a resounding endorsement, but it’s as good as they’re likely to get.

_________________

Despite Daisy’s lack of enthusiasm, Basira immediately throws herself into making arrangements. The Curator at Pu Songling is more than accommodating, seemingly as eager as Basira to make the trade. The real challenge is the Head of Artefact Storage.

It takes over a week of cajoling, lengthy justifications, and a concerted, collaborative effort from Basira, Jon, and Martin before Sonja finally, albeit reluctantly, agrees to discuss the matter with the Curator. Over the following days, Basira and Jon facilitate negotiations between the two: mediating a fair amount of (professional, but nevertheless pointed) verbal sparring early on, and later arbitrating the terms and conditions of the trade.

“You’d think that in the course of dealing with literal supernatural evil on a daily basis,” Basira gripes at one point, “bureaucracy wouldn’t be the biggest priority.”

“I’ve found that the bureaucratic process gives me ample time to make assessments,” Sonja says, unruffled. “Red tape has a way of bringing out the worst in people. Sometimes that’s a procrastinating student who woke up this morning, realized their deadline is next week, and ‘needs access to our materials, like, yesterday,’” she says, complete with finger quotes and a mocking tone. “And sometimes it’s some shady rich snob who’s been consistently cagey about his motives, and eventually he starts to go from impatient and entitled to desperate and frustrated, and that’s when the red flags start popping up crimson. After a while, you learn to distinguish the mundane sort of desperation from the more sinister sort.”

“Huh,” Jon says, smiling to himself. He knew Sonja was clever, but he never knew she was so calculating. It seems Jonah made the same mistake with Sonja as he did with Gertrude – overestimating a person’s curiosity and malleability, underestimating their prudence and pragmatism, and then promoting them to a position where they were free to act in a decidedly un-Beholding-like manner.

Once Sonja is sufficiently assured that the Curator has no intentions of utilizing the artefact or allowing it to venture beyond the secure confines of Pu Songling’s Collections Storage, the process starts to go a bit more smoothly. As expected, Sonja is amenable to the prospect of having one less piece of malignant costume jewelry, as she puts it, provided the Archival staff take full responsibility – both for the ring once Basira signs it out and for the artefact they receive in exchange.

“The ring has a compulsion effect,” Sonja tells them. “Makes people want to put it on – and once it’s on your finger, it’s not coming off until you hit the ground. Luckily it’s not a particularly active artefact, at least not compared to some of the other things we have here. I wouldn’t call it safe, obviously, but” – she raps her knuckles on the wooden beads of the bracelet on her opposite wrist – “it’s never breached containment.”

The how and why become abundantly clear upon seeing the closed ring box, so caked in earth and grime that it’s impossible to make out the color or material underneath.

“Buried, I take it,” Basira murmurs, giving Jon a sidelong glance.

“Yeah.” Jon grimaces at the phantom taste of soil on his tongue. “An artefact to contain an artefact.”

“Looks like the Curator is getting a twofer,” Basira says.

“Fine by me,” Sonja says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s the box it came in, actually. Don’t know why it works, but it does, and that’s all I care about. So long as you keep it closed, the worst you’ll get is vertigo. As far as we’ve observed, anyway. There’s always a chance that an artefact has more secrets than it lets on at first glance. Assuming you know everything there is to know is a good way to end up in a casket.”

“We’re well aware,” Jon says. “Believe me.”

“Seriously, though – if this goes tits up, I don’t want to hear it,” Sonja says sternly, all but wagging a finger. “And if you call up here a few months from now to tell me that you’ve got a rogue artefact wreaking havoc in the Archives, and I’ve got to put my people at risk to contain it, I will unleash unholy hell.”

The funny thing is, Jon believes her.

_________________

Despite the progress they’re making on obtaining the Hunter’s brooch, dissent continues to simmer within the group – particularly where Daisy is concerned. As the escalating tension in the Archives becomes ever more tangible, Martin begins to feel claustrophobic under the weight of all the things left unspoken.

Daisy is consistently ill-tempered: bellicose in one moment and taciturn in the next, frequently seeking out solitude whenever her agitation gets the best of her. Martin suspects that her volatile mood has as much to do with her deteriorating condition as it does to do with her lingering aversion to the rest of the group’s efforts. Although she and Basira haven’t had another row – so far as Martin is aware, anyway – there’s been an undeniable friction between them. On the worst days, Basira keeps to herself, burying her head in her research while Daisy slinks off to some dark corner of the Archives to brood until Jon comes to drag her away from her thoughts.

Not that Jon is much better. He’s been sullen lately, growing more withdrawn, sleeping less and jumping at shadows even more than usual. Martin often catches him in a trance, staring vacantly into space and droning horrors under his breath. More and more he lapses into statement clips mid-sentence, regardless of how recently he’s had a statement. Sometimes, all it takes is a momentary slip for Jon to lose his footing and devolve into a frenzied litany of back-to-back, fragmentary horror stories. On a few recent occasions he’s lost his voice entirely, though luckily it’s only been for an hour or two at a time.

(So far, Jon says morosely after each episode.)

Most unsettling, though, is the chronic faraway look in his eye, like he’s seeing something else. Like he’s somewhere else, lost across an unbridgeable divide.

Martin is well-acquainted with the sensation of feeling alone in the presence of others. That doesn’t make it any less distressing. It’s not that Jon intends to be distant. He might not even be aware of it; would likely be mortified if he knew just how much that detachment stirred Martin’s longstanding fears of isolation and abandonment. Jon’s still affectionate, after all. Although he seems reluctant to actively seek out comfort these days, he’s still prompt to take an outstretched hand, to lean into a kind touch, to accept a proffered embrace. Still makes a concerted effort to muster, however feebly, a soft smile whenever Martin enters a room. Still attempts to be present and attentive and open.

But sometimes it feels like Jon is out of reach, separated from the rest of the world, watching it pass him by through layers of frosted glass. Martin knows the feeling. What he doesn’t know is how to fix it.

Before long, Basira is set to leave for Beijing, an artefact of the Vast nestled away in her luggage amidst assurances to Sonja that, yes, under no circumstances will Basira attempt to take it on a plane or into the open ocean because, no, Basira does not have a death wish, thank you very much.

Martin half-expects another quarrel to break out on the eve of Basira’s departure, but Daisy is oddly subdued. Perhaps she just doesn’t want to part ways with angry words and unresolved arguments, or perhaps she’s simply come to accept the rest of the group’s decision to move forward with the plan. Considering the dark circles under her eyes, though, it’s just as likely that she’s simply too fatigued to start a fight.

A few days later, Martin descends the ladder into the tunnels to find Jon standing at his makeshift desk, staring down at the map unfurled across its surface – the product of the group’s ongoing efforts to survey the sprawling tunnel system of the former Millbank Prison. The blueprint-in-progress is an equally sprawling thing: sheets of mismatched paper layered one atop the next and taped together, its irregular borders comprised of haphazard angles and dog-eared edges.

The hand-drawn map on its surface is chaotic, reflecting the penmanship of four different authors. Jon’s contributions might be the messiest – the burn scar contracture on his dominant hand renders his lines shaky at best, and his handwriting has always been a tad chickenscratch. Daisy’s isn’t much better. Conversely, Basira’s additions are the neatest, her strokes as steady as the persona she tries to project to the world. Martin’s are passable, if only because, unlike Jon or Daisy, he actually has the patience to use rulers and book edges to trace straight paths.

To be fair, it would probably look a mess no matter how painstaking they were in constructing it. The tunnels are as labyrinthine as expected: a vast network of arterial corridors with offshoots along their lengths, branching into three- or four-way forks, most of which lead to dead ends. Occasionally, they find a path that loops back around and connects other parts of the maze, creating a series of meandering, convoluted closed circuits. It’s difficult to tell just by looking, but they are (Martin hopes) making progress. At the rate they’re going, they have to be on track to find the Panopticon before the winter solstice.

In any case, as Martin approaches the desk, he sees that familiar vacant look on Jon’s face, as if he isn’t actually seeing what’s in front of him. The effect is underscored by the cigarette burning away in his hand, hanging limp and forgotten at his side. Martin clears his throat lightly, in deference to Jon’s hair-trigger startle reflex. He doesn’t count the fact that Jon doesn’t jump at all as a success. If anything, it’s cause for concern.

“Jon?” Martin tries. There’s a slight delay before Jon glances over, giving Martin no acknowledgment aside from a sluggish blink before lowering his head again.

“I, uh…” Martin offers a weak smile, attempting to keep his tone light. He gestures at the cigarette. “I thought you quit?”

Jon shrugs, refusing to meet Martin’s eyes. “Not like it’ll kill me.”

“Might catch up with you later, though,” Martin says, scratching at his neck. “You know, once we find a way out of here.”

“There is no ‘out’ for me,” Jon says mulishly.

“You don’t know that. Or Know it.” Jon’s only reaction is to press his lips tightly together, like he’s biting back a retort. “Look, I’m not trying to nag you, I just wor– Jon!” Martin yelps as he watches Jon put his cigarette out on the back of his hand.

Martin lunges forward, grabbing Jon’s hand and yanking it close to inspect the damage. It’s the same hand that Jude shook, already textured and pitted with webs of hypertrophic scarring. Somehow, Jon managed to plant this newest burn on a patch of previously-undamaged skin, sandwiched between two bands of knotted tissue.

The contours of her fingers, Martin recognizes with a queasy lurch – followed by another when he thinks to wonder whether Jon sought out that scrap of healthy skin on purpose just now.

Jon barely reacts, staring into space with wide eyes and dilated pupils. Martin looks down again to see the circular singe mark already knitting itself back together, leaving only a small, shiny patch of discoloration ringed with a dusting of ash. In all likelihood, even that will be gone by morning.

If only all wounds would heal so easily.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Martin hisses, fighting to keep his voice even. He brushes a soothing thumb over the spot, as if to apologize to the abused skin on Jon’s behalf.

Jogged out of his reverie by Martin’s sharp tone, Jon stares daggers at him, his mouth open as if to unleash a scathing reprimand, the set of his jaw so reminiscent of those early days in the Archives. An instant later, though, he withers, cringing away and fixing his eyes on the floor.

“I wasn’t,” he mumbles, at least having the decency to sound contrite. “Wasn’t really paying attention.”

It’s not the first time Martin’s witnessed a self-inflicted injury. When pressed, Jon always claims that it’s not a deliberate, planned form of self-punishment, but rather a reflex reaction that kicks in when he starts feeling adrift in time. Somewhere along the line, it seems, he convinced himself that physical pain is as good a shortcut as any – a sort of panic button to bring him back to the present when he needs grounding.

Whatever his intentions, though, and no matter what rationalizations Jon wants to dole out, it’s not a healthy coping mechanism. And it’s difficult for Martin to believe that self-punishment doesn’t factor at all, considering Jon’s obsessive guilt spirals and his blasé attitude towards being hurt.

“‘S already healed,” Jon says with a spiritless shrug. He drops the snuffed-out remainder of his cigarette on the floor and unnecessarily grinds it under his heel.

“That’s not the point.” Martin doesn’t realize how tightly he’s grasping Jon’s hand until Jon winces. Although Martin relaxes his grip somewhat, he doesn’t let go. “It doesn’t matter how quickly your body heals, or that you’ve had worse, or whatever other justifications you want to make. You’re still getting hurt. That’s not okay, and – and if it were me in your shoes, you’d be telling me the same thing.”

“I’m sorry.” Jon’s hair falls to cover his face as he ducks his head.

It’s fine, Martin almost says – except it’s not, is it?

“Come on,” he says instead, guiding Jon to sit in the nearest chair before taking a seat next to him. Where before Jon was all stiff limbs and rigid spine, now he looks like he’s given up the ghost, drooping like a wilting flower.

Though he allows Martin to keep hold of his hand, Jon doesn’t return the pressure. And Jon’s skin is freezing – no doubt partly due to the damp chill of the tunnels, and partly because he has, by his own admission, always had shit circulation. Combined with his limp fingers and loose grip, though, the overall effect is far too reminiscent of those months spent keeping vigil over Jon’s hospital bed, his hand nothing but cold, dead weight in Martin’s.

It took too long for Martin to admit that he had been foolish to hope that Jon was still in there somewhere, aware of Martin’s presence, fighting to regain consciousness. The whole time, Martin was just keeping his own company. Jon wasn’t just unreachable – he wasn’t there at all.

(Martin had been wrong about that in the end. He doesn’t know that he’ll ever forgive himself for not being there when Jon woke up.)

Martin bites his lip as he formulates a response. He’s learned over the years that when Jon is like this, it’s best to strike a careful balance between docility and defiance. Push too hard too fast, and Jon will dig his heels in; approach him too tentatively, and he’s liable to interpret concern as pity; force him to talk about his feelings, and he’ll bolt; smother him with tenderness, and he’ll balk.

Granted, Jon has become much more receptive to tenderness over the years. Most of the time, anyway. When his skewed self-worth and convictions about what he does and doesn’t deserve don’t get in the way.

“At the risk of being a nag–”

“You’re not a nag,” Jon says softly.

“When’s the last time you had a statement?”

“A few days ago.” The response is too quick, too automatic.

“A few days ago,” Martin repeats, allowing a bit of disbelief to seep into his voice.

Jon nods stiffly. “Monday, I think.”

“Today is Tuesday.”

“I–” Jon cuts off his own retort, turning to blink owlishly at Martin. “Is it?”

“Yeah,” Martin says, his heart sinking. Jon must be losing time again. “So you had a statement yesterday?”

“No, I – I don’t…” Jon squints up at the ceiling, wracking his brain. “I don’t think so? It’s – I think I would recall if it had been shorter than one day.”

“So, last Monday?”

“I don’t – I don’t know,” Jon says, growing testy. “I suppose. Must’ve been.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry.” The admission is devoid of all the simmering agitation that had been there only moments before. Now, he just sounds tired.

“Well… I think you might be due for one.” Although Martin had been striving for gentle suggestion, there’s a harsh edge to the words. Rather than get Jon’s hackles up again, though, he seems to crumple under what he doubtless reads as an accusation.

“You’re right,” he says hoarsely. “And I’m sorry. I know lately I’ve been…”

“Tetchy,” Martin offers, just as Jon says, “a bit of a prick.”

“Your words, not mine,” Martin says with a tentative grin. Jon returns his own feeble half-smile, but it quickly falters.

“I’ve almost exhausted Daisy’s catalogue,” he confesses. “Only a handful left now. I’ve got to make them last until the solstice.”

An apprehensive chill runs down Martin’s spine at that. “And then what?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

There’s virtually no chance that Jon, prone to rumination as he is, hasn’t been dwelling on it.

“Basira said she has a few statements, right?” Martin asks. “Which… if you already have a statement about an encounter, can you still get nourishment from other statements about it, so long as it’s coming from someone else’s point of view?”

“Probably.” Jon shrugs one shoulder. “The factual details of the encounter are less important than the subject’s emotional response. Different perspective, different story, different lived experience of fear.”

“Then… you have my statement about the Flesh attack, but there’s still Basira’s. And – and maybe Melanie–”

“I’m not taking another statement from Melanie,” Jon says tersely. “She’s been tethered to me for too long without say, and I’m not dragging her back in.”

“But if it’s consensual–”

“It won’t be, because I don’t consent.”

“If the alternative is literally starving–”

“I’ll find another alternative. Or I won’t. But I’m not asking Melanie for a statement.” Jon keeps his head bowed, but he looks up at Martin through his lashes. “The first time she quit, I was worried that she might show up in my nightmares again, but she didn’t. I don’t know if her severance from the Eye will keepher out of my nightmares if she gives me a new statement, and… I can’t risk it. I can’t do that to her. Even if the nightmares weren’t an issue… I’m not going to ask her to relive yet another traumatic experience for my benefit–”

“–I shall choose to die rather than take part in such an unholy meal–”

Jon claps a hand over his mouth, a panicked look in his eye.

“…nor shall I take my own life, whatever extremity my suffering may reach,” he tacks on, too much of an afterthought for comfort.

“Which means we need to plan for the future,” Martin says, forcing calm into his voice despite the way his heart picks up its pace.

“But it can’t involve Melanie,” Jon says – gentler than before, but still firm.

“No, you’re – you’re right,” Martin relents. “It wouldn’t be fair to her. But we could still ask Basira.”

Jon makes a noncommittal noise, his expression rapidly going pinched and closed off again.

“Lately,” Martin says, licking his lips nervously, “lately it feels like you’ve been shutting everyone out again. It isn’t healthy–”

“Healthy?” Jon’s glare could burn a hole in the floor. “I don’t need to be healthy, I just need to be whatever it wants.”

Once, Martin might have been daunted by Jon’s scathing tone. By now, he knows that Jon is all bluster – and that the brunt of it is turned inward, against his own self.

“Please, Jon. Tell me what’s going on. You’re worrying me.”

Those, apparently, are the magic words, because Jon finally capitulates.

“It’s October,” he tells the floor.

“It… is October, yeah.” Bewildered, Martin waits for elaboration. When a minute passes with no response forthcoming, he prompts, “Is that… bad…?”

“Historically, yes, it has been,” Jon says with a tired, frayed-sounding chuckle.

“I… Jon, I need you to help me out here,” Martin says helplessly. “I can’t read your mind.”

“October is when it happens, Martin.” Jon glances at Martin once, quickly, before returning his gaze to the ground. He’s twisting one hand around the opposite wrist now, fingers curled tightly enough to blanch his knuckles. “The eighteenth. When everything goes wrong.”

“You mean…”

Jon’s sharp inhale becomes a choked exhale, which in turn abruptly cuts off as the Archive takes its cue.

“…what settled over me wasn’t dread; there wasn’t enough uncertainty for that. It was doom. I was certain that some sort of disaster was on the horizon–”

“–something bad. Something unspeakable. And I would have helped make it happen–”

“–the fear never really went away. I’ve heard that being exposed to the source of your terror over and over again can help break its power over you, numb you to it, but in my experience it just teaches you to hide from it. Sometimes that might mean hiding in a quiet corner of your mind, but–”

“–soon enough, I could no longer fool myself–”

“–the calm I had been getting accustomed to had been torn away completely, and where it had been was just this horrible, ice-cold terror–”

“–that – we can’t escape the ruins of our own future–”

“–a future where – humanity was violently and utterly supplanted, and wiped out by a new category of being–”

“–there are terrible things coming – things that, if we knew them, would leave us weak and trembling, with shuddering terror at the knowledge that they are coming for all of us–”

“–I think in my heart, I have been waiting for this moment. For the final axe to fall–”

“–we create the world in a lot of ways. I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising that, when we’re not being careful, we can change it–”

There’s a breathless pause before Jon continues, in a nearly inaudible whisper: “What could I have chosen to change? Would a different path have been possible?”

“It is,” Martin says firmly, “and we’re on it. What happened last time won’t happen again. We won’t let it.”

Jon doesn’t acknowledge the reassurance.

“I should’ve known,” he says with a quiet ferocity, in his own voice this time. “It was too peaceful. I should’ve known it wasn’t going to last. And – and on some level I did know – I knew it wasn’t over – but I just… I didn’t want to be the one to shatter the illusion, I suppose.” His expression goes taut. “Didn’t much matter what I wanted, in the end. But I still should’ve seen it coming. Can’t let my guard down again.”

“How could you have known?” Martin doesn’t intend for it to come out as exasperated. He tries to reel it back, to gentle his tone. “You’ve said yourself that you can’t predict the future–”

“No, but I knew Jonah had plans for me. And I knew nothing good could come of feeding the Eye, but I kept on anyway.”

“It’s not like you were doing it for fun, Jon! You needed it to survive, and Jonah took advantage of that. Or…” No – that makes it sound purely opportunistic, doesn’t it? In reality, it was all part of Jonah’s long game from the start. “He made you dependent on statements specifically becausehe wanted to take advantage of that.”

“I made choices,” Jon says tonelessly. “I can’t absolve myself of responsibility just because Jonah was nudging me in a particular direction.”

“You were manipulated,” Martin insists, “and I’m not having you apologize for surviving it. For not starving to death.”

“You don’t understand,” Jon says, growing more distressed, reaching up with both hands and tangling his fingers in his hair. “When that box of statements finally arrived, I… I couldn’t shoo you away fast enough. I was hungry, yes, but I wasn’t starving yet. I could’ve waited longer, but I just… I wanted one–”

“–should have fought harder against the temptation – but my curiosity was too strong–”

“You shouldn’t have to wait until you’re literally on death’s doorstep before you fulfill a basic need,” Martin interrupts.

“I should when that ‘basic need’ entails serving the Beholding,” Jon says heatedly. “And I – I should’ve known better – should’ve known not to jump headlong into the first statement that caught my eye. I’d known for a while that the Beholding leads me away from statements it doesn’t want me to know. It logically follows that it would lead me towards statements that would strengthen it. If I’d had any sense, I would’ve been suspicious of anything in that box that called out to me. It didn’t… it didn’t feel any different, but I – I suppose that somewhere along the line I just got used to… to wandering down whatever path I was led. I didn’t think, I never stop to think–”

“If anything, Jon, you overthink. You’re overthinking right now.”

Martin has known for a long time now that Jon will latch onto the smallest details, allow his thoughts to branch into an impossible number of routes and tangents, tie together loose threads in countless permutations in the interest of considering all possible conclusions, no matter how outlandish. He will apply Occam's razor in one moment before tossing it into the bin, only to fish it out again: lather, rinse, repeat. His mind is a noisy, cluttered conspiracy corkboard, and he’ll hang himself with red string if given half a chance, just to feel like he’s in control of something.

“It’s easy to look back and criticize your past self,” Martin says, “but he didn’t know what you do. If we knew the outcome to every action, maybe we wouldn’t make mistakes, but we’re only human–”

“Not all of us.”

“–so we just have to do the best with what we have in the moment,” Martin continues, paying no heed to Jon’s grumbled comment. No good will come of guiding him down that rabbit trail right now. Anyway, Martin has a more pressing concern–

“Why didn’t you tell me about any of this sooner?” he blurts out, immediately wincing at his lack of tact. “That came out wrong–”

“Why didn’t I tell you how quick I was to chase you out of the house and sink my teeth into a statement the moment temptation presented itself?” Jon scoffs. “Because I’m ashamed. Why else?”

“No, not–” Martin scrubs a hand over his face. It’s a struggle, sometimes, not to grab Jon by the shoulders and shake him until all of that stubborn self-loathing falls away. “About the fact that you’ve got a – a post-traumatic anniversary event coming up, I mean. You haven’t been well, and I thought I understood why – thought it was just… all of it, in general. But here I come to find you’ve been agonizing over the upcoming date of the single worse day of your life–”

“One of the worst,” Jon says quietly.

“What?”

“I didn’t lose you until much later.”

Martin’s breath catches in his throat at that, a sharp pang shooting through his chest.

“Well… you’ve got me now,” he says meekly. “So – so you don’t have to suffer in silence, is what I’m saying. What happened to you – no, what was done to you – it was horrible, and it wasn’t your fault. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s the truth.”

“Either I’ve always been caught up in someone else’s web, passively having things happen to me with no control over my life–”

“–the Mother got exactly the result she no doubt wanted, one that would lead to a fear – so acute that I could later have that horror focused and refined into a silk-spun apotheosis–”

Jon bites down on one knuckle, eyes shut tight as he waits for the compulsion to subside.

“Or,” he says after a minute, “or I do have control, and I can change the outcome, which makes me culpable. I don’t know which prospect I hate more. Which probably says some unflattering things about me.”

“It’s not that simple–”

“It is,” Jon says viciously. “If there is another path, then I should’ve found it last time!” He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a steadying breath. When he speaks again, he’s no longer bordering on shouting, but there’s a quaver in his voice, a fragility that Martin finds more disconcerting than any flash of anger. “The way I see it, there are two options. One, what happened in my future was inevitable and nothing I could’ve done would’ve changed it – which certainly doesn’t bode well for this timeline. Or, the outcome can be changed, in which case my choices matter, and had I just made better choices, maybe I could have prevented all of this from ever happening in the first place.”

“You’re not being fair,” Martin says, his hands clenching into fists – but Jon isn’t listening.

“Doesn’t make much difference, I suppose. The consequences are the same either way–”

“–billions of – people making their way through life who had no idea what was right above their heads–”

“–would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters–”

“–minds so strange and colossal that we would never know they were minds at all–”

“–idiots who destroyed themselves chasing a secret that wasn’t worth knowing–”

“–there, caught up in a series of events that I didn’t understand but that terrified me – I did the stupidest thing I’ve ever done–”

“–running was pointless. To try to escape from my task would only serve to fulfill another. I finally understood what I needed to do–”

“–I don’t know if you have ever drowned, but it’s the most painful thing I have ever experienced–”

“–I do not suppose I need to dwell on the pain, but please know that I would sooner die than endure it again–”

“Would you?” Martin says abruptly. Jon won’t look at him. “Jon, I need to know if you’re feeling like hurting yourself.”

“What would it matter if I was?” Jon still won’t look at him. “I’m categorically incapable of hurting myself in any way that matters.”

Martin blinks in disbelief. “Okay, that’s blatantly untrue.”

Jon has been a glaring portrait of self-neglect for as long as Martin has known him. That simple lack of consideration for himself, together with compounding survivor’s guilt, was the perfect stepping stone to active self-endangerment. Now that Jon’s convinced himself he’s invulnerable to a normal human death, he’s all the more careless with himself.

“I don’t want to die,” Jon whispers. “That’s the problem.”

“What—?”

“Before, I was unknowingly putting the entire world at risk by – by waking up after the Unknowing, by crawling out of the Buried, by escaping the Hunters, by continuing to read statements like it was – like it was something routine, as unremarkable as – as taking tea. Now, though – now I know better. I know what Jonah is planning, I saw what I’m capable of, and still I… I don’t want to die.”

“Well… good,” Martin says. “You should want to live–”

“It doesn’t much matter what I want–”

“–I never wanted to weigh up the value of a life, to set it on the scales against my own, but that’s a choice that I am forced into–”

“–doesn’t get to die for that – gets to live, trapped and helpless, and entombed forever – powerless–”

“–a lynchpin for this new ritual – a record of fear–”

Shit, Martin thinks the instant he recognizes the statement. It’s the worst of them all, virtually guaranteed to send Jon spiraling.

“–both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you – a living chronicle of terror – a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom–”

“Okay, okay, stay with me–”

“–the Chosen one is simply that: someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck–”

“Jon, can you hear me? Jon–”

“–I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but my god, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was–”

Martin reaches over, taking both of Jon’s hands in his own and squeezing tightly. The pressure seems to do the trick: lucidity sparks in Jon’s eyes and he takes a deep, ragged breath, as if coming up for air.

“There you are. Are you okay?” Martin rubs both thumbs over the backs of Jon’s hands in rhythmic, soothing motions. “Hey, it’s–”

“I don’t want your kindness!” Jon snaps, jerking backwards and snatching his hands out from Martin’s grip.

Both of them lapse into a stunned silence. As mortification dawns on Jon’s face, Martin can feel the color rising in his cheeks. It only takes a few seconds for the blood rushing in his ears to be drowned out by another voice.

Martin can remember with cutting clarity the days prior to his mother’s departure to the nursing home. She had been in (somewhat) rare form, her already-short fuse dwindled down to nothing, sniping at him around the clock, full of caustic observations and spiteful accusations.

I don’t want your help, she had sneered as she entered the cab, swatting his hand away.

It was one of the last things she ever said to him.

“Well, tough,” Martin bites out, “because you deserve it, and you never should’ve had to go without it, and you’re not going to change my mind about that, so you may as well stop trying!”

“Martin, I – I – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

He saw, Martin realizes all at once, his skin crawling with humiliation.

“I’m going to go make some tea,” Martin says, rising to his feet.

Jon reaches out a hand. “Martin–”

“I just need a breather, okay?” Martin says, a pleading note to his voice. His lungs are constricting, his chest is tightening, there’s a lump in his throat, and he really doesn’t want to have a panic attack in the tunnels – or in front of Jon. “I’m not – I’m not angry, okay, I just need some air.”

Jon opens his mouth, then immediately closes it, clutches his hands to his chest, and gives a tiny nod that Martin just barely glimpses before turning to flee.

_________________

“Stop crying,” Jon hisses at himself, furiously scrubbing at his face as the tears slide down his cheeks. “Stop it.”

He plasters the heels of his hands over his closed eyelids. It does nothing to stem the flow, only brings to mind images of pressing himself bodily against a door to hold it closed, only for the crack to continue widening, millimeter after millimeter, the flood on the other side trickling through the gap, rivulets swelling into rivers, frigid eddies biting at his ankles, a whitewater undertow threatening to drag him below the waves–

“Enjoying our own company, are we?”

Once, Jon might have been humiliated to be caught mid-breakdown, raw-voiced and puffy-eyed, especially by Peter Lukas of all people. Several lifetimes spent in thrall to cosmic horrors have a way of putting things in perspective.

“What do you want?” Jon says with as much ire as he can muster.

Peter hums to himself, starting a slow, back-and-forth pace in front of Jon. “It occurred to me that I’ve been derelict in my duties as far as the Archives are concerned–”

“That’s just now occurring to you?”

“–and, as such, I thought it was high time that I met the infamous Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.”

“Well,” Jon scoffs, gesturing at himself, “you’ve met him.”

“I must admit, I was expecting something a bit more… hm.” Peter taps a finger against his lips. “Formidable.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” The scathing sarcasm is rendered pitiful by an ill-timed, involuntary sniffle. Jon can’t bring himself to care.

“The state you’re in, you hardly seem fit to work.” A pause. “Have you ever considered taking some time off?”

“A six-months hospital stay has a way of eating up your PTO, oddly enough. I’m told that payroll already has already had to make special exceptions for my ‘unprecedented’ circumstances.” Jon chuckles to himself. “On multiple occasions. Did you know the Institute considers a kidnapping in the line of duty to be an ‘unexcused absence?’”

“I think you’ll find that Elias and I have different management styles,” Peter says mildly. “I’m open to making allowances – particularly since your department can function so smoothly in your absence. Your assistants have proven themselves to be quite capable of working independently – and seeing as your approach to supervision borders on fraternization, I imagine they would be more productive without excess drama to distract them.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Jon says acerbically.

“No need.” Jon squints at him, and Peter stare him down. “It’s not a request, Archivist. It’s an order.”

There was a time, not long ago, that sneaking up on the Archivist would have been difficult. Only Helen had consistently managed to ambush him, and that was because she didn’t waste time sneaking – she manifested and launched the jump scare in the same instant, giving him no chance to See her approach. Readjusting to a binocular point of view had been a process, but rarely does he find himself yearning for the panoramic field of vision that had been foisted upon him during the apocalypse.

Occasionally, though, there are moments when 360° sight would come in handy. Too late, Jon realizes this is one of those moments.

By the time he notices the tendrils of encroaching fog, they’re already curling around from behind him, pooling at his feet, ghosting across the back of his neck, affixing themselves around his wrists.

“It’s alright,” Peter says placidly, almost soothingly. “You can let go now.”

Jon shivers as his heart pumps ice through his veins, fingers and toes going numb as he struggles for breath.

No. No, no, no, no, no–

“I am not Lonely anymore,” Jon gasps out through chattering teeth.

“No,” Peter says with an air of nonchalance. Then he smiles, sharp and cold and cruel and the only detail Jon can still discern through the fog. “But you will be.”

___

End Notes:

Daisy: hey siri, google what to do if i suspect my bff has been possessed by the ghost of a fussy paleornithologist Jon: why are you booing me????? i’m right

Pretty sure this is the longest chapter yet? Probably bc of the statement. I could’ve split it into two, but, uh. I like that cliffhanger where it is. >:3c (Sorry for that, btw.)

Quite a bit of Archive-speak this chapter. Citations as follows: Section 1: 122/124/011/007/047/155. The Xiaoling quote is from MAG 105; the Jonah quote is ofc from 160; the Naomi quote is from 013. Section 3: 181. Section 5: 058 x2; 144/130/086/143/121/149/134/144/143/069; 147; 017; 147; 057/160/106/111/067/121/129/098; 155/128/160; 160 x3. Section 6: 170, of course.

I’m taking wild liberties with Pu Songling Research Centre’s whole deal. I’m conceptualizing their spookier departments as being like… actually academia-oriented, instead of “local Victorian corpse with illusions of godhood throws a bunch of traumatized nerds with no relevant archival experience into a basement, what happens next will shock you”. Xiaoling is out here like “our digitization is still a work in progress, I’m sure you know how it is” and Jon Sims is like “digitization who? i don’t know her”. (Listen, he tried once. Tape recorder was haunted, he got kidnapped a bunch, there were worms and things, he died (he got better), his boss used him as a battering ram to open a door to Fearpocalypse Hell – it was a lot.)

Likewise, we didn’t get much info about Sonja in canon, so I’m having fun envisioning her as a certified Force To Be Reckoned With (and a bit of a Mama Bear wrt her assistants). Most of the Institute is leery of the Archives (& especially Jon) but Sonja’s seen a lot of shit and Jon Sims doesn’t even rank on her list of Top Spooky Scary Things.

re: the statement – it’s not clear in-text, but I want to clarify that I’m not conceptualizing Francis Drake as being influenced by the Hunt. Fictionalizing aspects of history is tricky, and I’d feel personally uncomfortable chalking up Drake’s real life atrocities to supernatural influence, even in fiction. In the case of this particular fictional member of his crew, he was (like Drake’s real-life crew) complicit in following Drake’s orders for entirely mundane reasons and was only marked by the Hunt at the point in his statement where he first recounts hearing the Hunt chasing after him.

At some point in writing this chapter, I had 137 tabs open in my browser for Research Purposes and like 20 of those were bc my dumb ass seriously considered writing that statement in Elizabethan English before going “what are you DOING, actually.” If I’d tried, it would have come off as inauthentic at best, if not ridiculous, bc I’m unfamiliar with English linguistic trends of the 1500s, and I’d basically be badly mimicking Shakespearean English, which isn’t necessarily indicative of how everyone spoke at the time, and I don’t know what colloquial speech would look like for this particular unnamed character I trotted out as exposition fodder, and it was probably unnecessary to formulate a whole-ass personal history for him for the sake of Historical Realism for a single section of a single chapter of a fanfic, and… In the end, I decided that this pseudo-immortal rando can tell his life story in modernized English, as a treat (to me) (and also to those of you who don’t think of slogging through bastardized Elizabethan prose as a fun endeavor).

Speaking of research – shoutout to this dissertation that had an English translation of the Herla story in Walter Map’s De nugis curialium, and if you want to read the whole story, you can find it on pages 16-18 of that paper. I feel it’s important for you all to know that IMMEDIATELY after Map dramatically proclaims, “the dog has not yet alighted, and the story says that this King Herla still holds on his mad course with his band in eternal wanderings, without stop or stay,” he goes on to say in the next breath “buuuut some people say they all jumped into the River Wye and died, so ymmv. ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ anyways, can I interest you in more Fucked Up If True tales?” (Herla throwing the dog into the river wasn’t in the original story though. I made that part up.)

Thank you so much for reading! <3

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 18

Chapters: 18/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17]

They cook, they feed him, they chat away about inane things. Their presence soothes Martin and their voices fill him with the warmth sucked away by his unexpected encounter.

Gerry helps him make tea after dinner, and they all sit at the table together, even the cats sleeping nearby, cuddled up into one big, grey and black fluff ball.

"I think," Martin begins, voice croaky, "That I would like to tell you now."

"We're ready to listen if you're ready to tell us." Jon offers softly. Gerry reaches over to take one of his hands, turning it over to kiss the palm sweetly.

Martin talks, voice quiet and even.

"In the beginning, it was just a normal relationship. Except for the fact that he was almost twenty years older than me, and about a million times richer. I didn't know that at first, of course. He was just a middle-aged man I met in a gay bar, who didn't seem to mind that I was trans. I felt secure in our relationship, if not exactly nurtured or adored. I had never felt very secure before, and it seemed like enough, you know?

"He took me out, brought me a few things in the beginning. He was very dominant, sexually, but I was a lot less sure of my own preferences back then and I thought it was fine. He never even blinked at my trashy flat or cheap clothes, and I didn't even realise just how much money he had for a long time. Maybe I just can't really comprehend that much money, even now.

"When I was twenty-two, my mother died, and…" He huffs out a shaky, emotional laugh. "Well, I was a real mess. I lost my job, and almost my flat. Peter started paying for things, my rent, clothes, meals. He said that I needed somewhere to live and had to eat and look presentable, and it was his pleasure to provide those things for me. It made me feel a bit gross, but I struggled to find another job, and so I accepted it."

Martin hesitates here, before continuing. "The problem started when I wasn't interested in sex one night."

"He forced you?" Gerry interrupts to ask dangerously, threat explicit in his quiet words. His eyes seem to glow faintly in the growing dark of the room, as the sun sets. He wishes, more than ever, that he had helped Jon kick the shit out of Peter Lukas, instead of stopping him.

Martin sighs, eyes pressed tight closed for a second. "Not exactly. He simply pointed out that he paid for me to exist. So I made myself interested."

Gerry's hands tighten into fists and he moves them under the table where Martin can't see them anymore. Jon suddenly looks very pale. They share a look, neither able to see much difference between 'forcing' and what sounds a lot like financial abuse to them.

Martin pulls his legs up to his chest, curling around them as he goes on. "Our relationship became a lot more transactional after that night. I disengaged whatever feelings I had left for him and simply drew all my emotions down deep into myself. I wasn't ashamed to be getting paid for sex, but I felt like I had lost my own consent in the matter. Peter honestly seemed like he had gotten exactly what he wanted. Money was nothing to him, and he had someone to take out on his arm or shag whenever he wanted, without the work of a real relationship, or the complications of unfortunate attachments.

"So, if I needed something, I told him. He set a date, took me out, fucked me. He gave me however much I needed."

Martin shrugs, looking down at his hands. "I honestly hated it. Not because of the prostitution itself, sex has always been very nurturing for me, and I sometimes caught the idea that it was only another way to care for people, and being paid for that is perfectly fine, if you're doing it for the right reasons. The real issue was Peter himself. He had this way of making me feel… bereft and hollow, even before the money came into it."

A few tears track down his face, although his face remains rather blank, in a numb way. It's only as he admits the next words that his voice breaks and the heartbreak works its way out again.

"I was very foolish. Looking back, I can see that I was still a child in a lot of ways. I put myself into a situation that damaged me, but I accept the consequences of those actions, both then and now. I- I-"

"Martin," Jon whispers, warm love clear in his voice. It's nothing but an offer of support, one that he desperately needs right now.

He presses his eyes shut, forcing away the stutter and the lump of tears. "I knew I wasn't going to be able to get out of it, even if I got a crap, minimum wage job that I was qualified for. So I started applying for any work that was available. I made every application exactly what they wanted, and I hoped for the best. When Elias offered me the job at Magnus, I took it happily. Since then I found out that Peter knows him, and probably arranged the job for me, but at the time I had no idea. Looking back, I know that it's a miracle that I got out of it at all. Peter could have chosen to make my life a living hell. Instead, he accepted the several firm rejections I offered him.

"He promised me that we weren't done, that I would be back, but he left me alone. I was done. I moved on with my life, even if I had to lie to do it." Martin sighs, shakes out his shoulders, the most difficult part over now.

"I had always planned to be open about it with my next relationships, but they were so fleeting that it never even came up. By the time I fell for Jon, it had become a secret, one I was loathed to dig up for a relationship I was convinced wouldn't last. I thought to myself, 'Why ruin something that makes me happy?' I assumed it would fall apart anyway, and it was easier to allow it to be in the past.

"But I am sorry. I'm sorry that I never told you. I'm sorry you had to find out from him. I'm sorry that we've been together for more than a year and we basically live together, and I've put you in this position. I love you both, very very much."

"When did you eventually decide that our relationship was going to last?" Jon queries, genuine curiosity in his voice.

There's a beat of hazy silence at the abrupt change in tone and topic.

"Oh, ah-" Martin stumbles over his words, unsure how blatantly honest to be. He chooses the real truth, no matter how unfortunate. "The day that I got Luna was the first time I really accepted that you both loved me."

Jon simply raises an eyebrow, completely unconcerned. "What about you, Gerry?"

"With you," Gerry responds easily, "at the hospital in Morden, when I was so panicked that I couldn't decide if I wanted to kill you or handcuff us together for the rest of our lives. With Martin-"

He breaks off with a laugh, colouring slightly. "It was the day we dyed my hair purple."

"The first time we had sex?" Martin asks, surprised at such a hedonistic answer.

He laughs again, more confidently this time. "No, actually, although that was spectacular. It was afterwards, when you braided my hair for the first time. That was the first time anyone had ever braided my hair. It made me feel so… So honoured. Like I was the most precious thing to you."

"Gerry, you are the most precious thing to me. You both are." Martin whispers, tears creeping back into his voice.

"Good, because the feeling is mutual, and we desperately need you around to keep us in line," Jon tells him, voice unusually firm and confident.

"What about you?" Martin remembers to ask him, at risk of floating away in his post confession haze. "When did you know?"

"With Gerry, it was when we were teenagers. I kissed him for the first time, and he laughed at me. I just knew he was my soulmate." Jon rolls his eyes at this, but his voice is full of blatant affection. "With you, Martin, it was- Well, to be quite honest with you, there was no one special moment. It was a million tiny moments, all of them special and perfect to me. Every cup of tea, every frown while you were writing poetry, glasses pushed haphazardly up into your lovely hair. The easy, glorious look on your face the day you met Gerry for the first time, as if you weren't even capable of not falling in love with him, just as I hadn't been. It was especially the days that I would come out of the library and find you waiting for me after work. This weight of total surety would fill my chest and leave me gasping, needing you."

Jon sighs, his own eyes a little bright. "I suppose it was really the night you kissed me in the rain, and every soft moment since then has only affirmed the way I knew you were it for me."

Jon smiles at Martin so beatifically that he forgets to breathe for a moment.

"We love you too, Martin," Gerry tells him, reaching out to grasp a hand. Jon takes the other. "And we wouldn't want you any other way."

***

The next morning, Martin wakes to find Jon eyeing his phone intently. Gerry is asleep on his other side, and he feels warmly cocooned between them. Gentle cloudy light fills the space, encouraging the comfortable cozy atmosphere of their bed.

"What's wrong, love?" Martin asks sleepily, snuggling into his side.

"I got-" Jon pauses, utterly flummoxed. "I got paid a bonus."

"What?" Equally perplexed, Martin takes his phone, squinting as he tries to read the screen.

The banking app is open, and there is indeed a deposit there, Jon's normal salary amount, but on completely the wrong date.

In the purpose box, it simply reads 'Entertainment Value'.

"You don't think," Jon starts, hesitant, "that Elias paid me…"

"For hitting Peter Lukas?" Martin finishes, "His own husband."

They blink at each other, bewildered.

"Does that seem… slightly cursed, to you?" Jon whispers as if Elias might hear him. Even worse if Elias could hear them, and would probably enjoy being accused of having a cursed relationship.

"Yes, completely cursed. What is up with those two?" Martin looks as if he's smelled something bad.

"We absolutely cannot spend this money, right?" Jon asks. "Lest we are cursed with their relationship dysfunction."

"Correct," Martin responds firmly, shuddering. "Can we donate it to the animal shelter?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea." Jon's relief at this resolution is palpable.

He does it straight away, as if even having the money in his bank account might ruin their lives.

They let out a simultaneous sigh as the transfer goes through.

"That is wild," Martin mutters as he snuggles back down.

Jon tosses his phone away, no longer interested in it. Instead, he wraps his arms around Martin, burying his nose in his lover's hair. It smells of bergamot and tea leaves and the ocean in winter, just like Martin himself, and Jon luxuriates in the moment.

"I love you, Martin K. Blackwood." He whispers into the soft air.

"Even if I don't actually have a middle name?" Martin whispers back.

"Especially because of that." Jon chuckles.

They lay together, the gentle moments of the morning flowing around them. Later, they get up and shower together. They drink tea in front of the big windows in the living space. Martin reads a book from Gerry's shelves, his own books still packed, and Jon wanders off to play his piano where it is randomly set up, right in the middle of Gerry's typical painting area.

Gerry himself appears downstairs, still sleepy and bleary-eyed. He curls up with his head in Martin's lap, listening to Jon fill the flat with gentle music.

It's the soft sort of moment that each of them had been wishing for all their lives, full of love, and family, and a home of their very own.

[moth-song-archives]

The Insatiable Flow of Time (1/8)

I remembered that I can make posts here too huh! Anyways, I wrote a post-MAG200 fic <3

I’ll reblog it again with the link to ao3 if you’d prefer reading it there :D

Rating: Teens and Up Archive Warnings: Choose Not To Use Categories: F/F Relationships: Georgie/Melanie, Georgie & Jon, Jonmartin (mentioned) Characters: Georgie Barker, Melanie King, Jonathan Sims, the Admiral, Basira Hussain (mentioned), Rosie Zampano (mentioned), Martin Blackwood (mentioned)

Additional tags: Diary/Journal × post mag200 × Post-Canon × Canon Compliant × Rated for swearing and me doing my best to write a fitting epilogue for my most fave story of all time × Bittersweet × Hurt/Comfort × Grief/Mourning × Gentle-Sad-Soft × Fluff × Non-Sexual Intimacy × Tenderness × Generally Hopeful Ending × Ambiguous/Open Ending × Catharsis × You know how TMA is a tragedy? ... yeah × Hope Punk × dealing with the fallout of surviving a literal apocalypse × Moving on and letting go × Trans Georgie Barker × Nonbinary Melanie King × Melanie uses any pronouns but needs to (re)discover this first × and is then mainly referred to with they/them pronouns for diary-simplicity × Melanie is ace in my heart ♡ × Jon is also enby but it only gets referred to in passing × Georgie has a Type™ × Character Study × i love them all so much × Nonbinary aspec author × it's very hope punk and somft BUT ALSO VERY SAD × in like a cathartic way × because i like causing pain :') × pre-written and updates every 2-3 days

I think I might use it to… rediscover myself. That’s what I liked about journaling in the first place, I think. Getting to think about things outside of my own head, putting it out there so I could move on? Maybe it’s time to return to old coping mechanisms and try again. Even if I haven’t really changed. Even if I should’ve changed. Right?

As the world tries to piece itself back together, Georgie grapples with her past, her present, and her future by keeping a diary. She also keeps having this strange, recurring dream that involves Jon. Post MAG200.

Finished at ~12k, will upload over the next couple of days <3

Day 3 - Evening

Melanie is sleeping. Basira is also sleeping, on the sofa in the living-room. She doesn’t really know what to do with herself, these days, so for now she’s staying with us.

I am not sleeping. I’m so far beyond tired that I can’t sleep anymore. It’s been... how long? More than a day, certainly. I’m at the kitchen table and the night outside is darker than any I’ve ever seen. There are no street lights and a million more stars than I could’ve ever imagined. I wish Melanie could see them too :(

Back before everything in my life went wrong, I used to be really good at this. I think I got my first diary when I was... seven, maybe eight? I used to be obsessed with it. I guess I stopped writing in college, after the incident, because it felt... wrong? Like I was lying to myself, trying to fabricate emotions that just weren’t there, keeping up with things that no longer seemed important or note-worthy. Mainly, I couldn’t make myself care about anyone or anything anymore.

I think I want to find that person again, now that it’s over. Try and… move on? And Melanie encouraged me :) I guess that’s the main reason. I found this notebook in one of the domains when we were rescuing people. I don’t know what I originally wanted to do with it, but I did end up forgetting about it until I went through my bag again today. It smells like fire and is a bit singed in places, but I kind of like that? I think I might use it to… rediscover myself. ...that sounds very pretentious, but this is just for me, so...

And I like that it’s just cheap paper scribbled on with a shitty biro. Maybe I’ll just burn it when all the thoughts are on the paper instead of in my head. When I can sleep again. And the prize for the most dramatic way of closure goes to Georgie Barker! But yeah. That’s what I liked about journaling in the first place, I think. Getting to think about things outside of my own head, putting it out there so I could move on? Maybe it’s time to return to old coping mechanisms and try again. Even if I haven’t really changed. Even if I should’ve changed. Right?

But I don’t feel any different. Shouldn’t I feel different, now that they’re gone? The entities, I mean, though Jon and Martin seem to be gone, too.

I keep remembering Martin’s expression when he told us to go early, how upset he was.

Honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised. As long as I’ve known Jon, he’s always done what he thought best. It used to drive me up the walls, but I also admired it, I think? I never would’ve told him that, but… Well. He’s gone now.

It’s over, all of it.

And I still can’t sleep.

And Melanie is still blind, and I still feel empty, and my fear still hasn’t come back. Everyone who died is still dead, and the trauma is still there. There were angry mobs in the streets, and people got killed.

I can’t quite believe that Jon and Martin went with them. I can’t believe they left us behind to explain the entire mess.

 We’re back in our old flat. It’s so weird to be back home. Everything looks the same, as though no time passed at all. Nobody knows what date it is. How long were we caught in there?

Outside, it feels like spring. There are birds everywhere, singing their hearts out. Sounds like more birds than there used to be, too. The trees are leafless and dead-looking, but Basira pointed out that they’re getting there... and it feels like spring.

I haven’t slept properly in 3 days because the questions keep me awake. It’s not that I’m worrying, really, just… thinking? I think I could sleep better if the worry had come back, but it hasn’t.

As far as we can tell, all modern devices are broken, too. Computers and phones and such, digital cameras, generators... we don’t even know what the rest of the world looks like. I hadn’t realised how much gets controlled by computers these days, we don’t even have central heating or water access in our flat. Rumours and news are spreading person-to-person, like in the Olden Days. We only have emergency systems that were installed in case of nation-wide blackout. I guess I’m glad we don’t actually have a blackout, we just need to get the computers back to work. (If I understood it correctly.)

Melanie thinks it’ll all come back to life in a few more days. I certainly hope so. I also hope I’ll stop feeling like this. Or rather, not feeling like anything. It’s so strange. Like in the first days after the incident, when I just felt numb?

They’re gone! I want to feel like a person again! What if I never get myself back?

 They’re actually gone.

 What will we do with our lives now? Basira isn’t the only one who feels uprooted. I think the whole world feels like that right now.

I hope my computer comes back soon. I miss music, and making things. My photos, all those memories.

I don’t want to lose all of that. I want to start fresh, but not without records of the past.

…I’ve had a lot of time to think about that, specifically. Records, and futures.

What the Ghost is done, right? There’s no fun in creepy ghost stories if you’ve been through an actual, living nightmare.

I think I want to start new with that, too. When everything works again, that is.

New world, new future, new podcast. I like that. I think. Make a record of what happened through eyewitness accounts? Or is that too similar to the Statements… then again, it’ll be more like interviews. And I think we shouldn’t forget.

We owe them that much.

I’ll have to talk it over with Melanie tomorrow. Maybe.

We’ll see.

God, I think maybe… maybe I can actually try and sleep tonight. Writing does seem to help.

 Note to self: thank Laverne for suggesting it. (Also for being there for Melanie. And listening to us. And stopping with that culty nonsense. She’s the only one we found so far, but she actually listened to us. Strange to think that in this world, I have to be grateful for someone not worshipping me for some dumb reason?!)

   Day 4 - Morning

So. Three things.

1) I did manage to fall asleep after all! I’ve always been a bit of an insomniac, especially after the incident, so actually getting some proper rest felt really good.

2) I somehow woke up right as the sun went up! I think I’ve never seen a dawn this beautiful? I watched it from the bedroom window and I’ll definitely describe it to her in detail when she wakes up! The Admiral was sleeping on our pillow, right next to her head, snuggled up against the back of her neck and shoulder... it was so cute. I can’t believe my phone and camera still don’t work! Melanie has that old polaroid camera somewhere but we haven’t found it yet, and I wish my art skills were any better. I did draw a sketch of the two of them though. I’ll cherish it forever, no matter how shitty it is :’)

After everything that happened, the Admiral is still a bit weird around us. He started out really aggressive, calmed down a bit, and now… now he’s weirdly skittish? Meows a lot. Keeps walking around the flat. The only thing that even remotely returns him to how he used to be is tuna. It’s weird.

But seeing him like that, with Melanie? I love him so much.

I think he’ll be okay.

But before I forget, and why I actually got out the diary at this ungodly hour instead of trying to go back to sleep now that the sun is up…

3) I had a really nice dream. And... I don’t even know. I think I want to try and hold onto the feeling? I don’t think I’ve felt that… deeply… in a long while. Maybe the last time was before all this, when we decided to move in together. Before all of this happened.

For a moment, I felt like I was whole again :’)

It didn’t even have Melanie in it, which is very rude tbh. I think Jon was there? The Admiral, too. We were just chilling on the sofa, watching netflix I think... It felt so... mundane??? Casual, somehow??? Like it was normal to feel like that and I just... I want THAT. I want to feel like that again, instead of this weird… blank nothingness? I want that all the time, not just when I’m riding a high or feeling so terrible that it pierces through.

I don’t know if that makes sense but this is just for me anyway so I suppose it doesn’t have to.

 I think I should feel bad about Jon being gone, but I still don’t even feel relief at it being over. Just this vague numbness.

I hate it so much, except I don’t, actually, I just know that I should?

Melanie keeps saying that I need a therapist but if we’re being honest here, I guess I need one the least? The whole goddamn world needs therapy right now. Including the therapists. And I’ve been dealing with this for a long time now.

I guess I keep hoping it’ll just go away somehow.

 Anyways. Enough introspection, I’m going back to bed. I hope I don’t wake them! :)

  Day 4 - Evening

 It’s night now, the sun went down hours ago. We have a bunch of candles, but I’m trying to use them sparingly, so I just have one lit. I put a glass of water next to the candle so now the light gets magnified a bit more. It’s a weird atmosphere, but I kinda like it? Feels… cozy! :)

I’m still not over how everything looks the same, but nothing works like it did before, and there’s this… burden? This collective trauma everyone went through. It feels so surreal. So many things are still broken… it’s like we woke from a collective nightmare, but pieces of it still remain, floating around.

And we just sent it away with the tapes. I really hope those other worlds are doing better than us, but what else could we have done? I… try not to think about it. I know I should, but I still can’t really bring myself to care, or even feel overly guilty for that? …

 Melanie fell asleep with her head in my lap half an hour ago. I was reading to her. She says she loves the sound of my voice, so I’ve started doing that in the evenings. (I still love that we had separate crushes from a distance on each other for ages because of youtube and WTG. We’ve been talking about that a lot, too.)

She still has nightmares, but apparently she’s also been having good dreams, and she looks so peaceful right now. The last few days have been a lot, but in comparison to before, and even before then…

It’s over. We made it out. We get to have a future together. I still can’t quite believe it. :)

 I guess I’m writing again (despite already having done so in the morning) because it somehow helped yesterday and I’m hoping to replicate that. And I have a lot to think about. It’s been a long day.

Basira is still out there, helping out where she can. I think she feels guilty. Melanie says she doesn’t because there was no other choice, but I know her, and I know that she’s lying.

There’s always another choice. We just say that to make it easier to bear.

I hope she knows she can come talk to me when she feels ready to tackle it.

I hope I ever feel able to tackle it myself. No. I will talk to her when I’m ready.

We did talk a bit about things, of course. Melanie doesn’t really remember her dreams, most of the time, but apparently she’s been alternating between horrifying nightmares and a really nice, recurring one that sometimes happens after the nightmares. She doesn’t really remember much of it, but she mentioned it after I told her about the Jon dream. Not what it was about, just… in general.

From the way she talked about it, I think her dad might have been in it? I’m actually not sure, but the way she smiled…

She has that little smile on her lips again, even now, dreaming. The soft one she gets when she talks about good things. About him.

About me.

(I still can’t believe she chose me. How impossibly lucky? How did I ever deserve her? But then, it’s not about that, is it? She is mine, and I am hers, and… life will be good. I know it will be.)

 She’s been smiling a lot more, these past few days.

[kintatsujo]

any advise for someone putting together a webcomic?

Oh boy oh boy anon I don’t happy flap often but you better believe I have advice XD

For people new here: I’ve been doing my main webcomic, The Law of Purple, since 2004, also was doing a different webcomic, Alien Revenant, for several years before having to hiatus indefinitely, have done a number of fancomics, including one that ran weekly for a number of years, and I’m in the midst of rebooting another original called Eclipse Knight.  That’s why I’m someone you might consider asking about doing webcomics.  That and I take an actual philosophy to this stuff.

Onward to my Advice, born of blood and toil!!

Make a palette and stick to it

This does keep the art of your comic looking consistent but the REAL reason is because you’re not going to be spending a bunch of time deciding on colors because bam, I have ten specific colors for different shades of wood and I’m gonna pick from those.  Note how I phrased that!  I’m not telling you to make a 500 page comic using Gameboy Classic colors or something-- I’m telling you to make a palette based on the colors you’re going to want for your project.  I personally tend to prefer to work from “master” palettes where ALL the colors are coming from but you can also make pools of palettes so that, for example, individual characters have their own personal colors.

Also: Don’t bother with too many different shades of red.  A lot of people can’t see the difference between more than a handful, so why make more work for yourself?

The more backups the better

I know that probably sounds obvious but you’d be surprised how many webcomics go on hiatus because of things like “I lost half my files.”  Alien Revenant’s rocky years started because it uses conlang heavily and my glossaries weren’t as up to date on all my backups when a certain pen drive got borked.  Even after that you’d think I’d have learned my lesson and I STILL ended up having to recover some colors from LOP’s master palette that I’d added between computers when our one desktop crashed.

Don’t feel guilty for using shortcuts that work for you, and use whatever kind of references you need

I’ve made perspective references by setting up toys and a bunch of rulers and furniture and taking pictures with my phone.  I’ve made perspective references using computer programs.  I own a model Harley motorcycle because it’s the one I wanted Blue to ride.  Use free floorplan programs.  Use the Sims.  I have straight up traced pictures of buildings I’d drawn in the past and in the LOP page I’m working on there’s about fourteen characters that are just the same guy copy pasted over and over.  (They’re going to be obscured by effects so why kill myself over it?)  I’ve also copy-pasted the lineart for backgrounds from one panel to the next when I wanted the same angle, and sometimes I just copy paste the sketch layer when a character’s going to be mostly in the same pose and adjust from there.  

(Copy-paste isn’t a sin and if you’re clever it’s barely even noticeable.)

Also a full-turnaround sheet for every character is HELPFUL but like, don’t actually feel like you HAVE to do it, either, especially if you realize it’s actually stalling you out.  Reference sheets are usually most important for things like somebody having complicated tattoos, or the furniture and architecture of the main character’s house, or uniforms, things like that.

Set aside Specific Comic Work Time if possible

I’m currently doing better at keeping up with my own schedule entirely because there’s time each week that I have nothing to do but work on my comic, which is Sunday mornings while I’m sitting in my office waiting for people to go away so I can wipe down the light switches and lock the doors.  When I was at my most productive as a webcomicker, I had a full set of college courses crammed into two or three days and nothing else to do once my homework was done but sit around the school lounge areas and draw.

Time yourself doing pages and try to base your schedule on that

Even if you start off with a decent buffer, no schedule buffer lasts forever.

Don’t pick a coloring style that takes you more than four hours per page

oh my god, no amount of painterly coolness or smooth airbrushing is worth that.  I should know because I did an airbrushing style for a chapter of LOP when I first started coloring on the computer and chapters of LOP are generally between 100 and 200 pages long, and I wanted to fuck off and live in the woods or something by the time I was done.  

Not even because of how much time it took-- Once I was good at it, it looked beautiful, but airbrushing the same two dudes having a Serious Conversation for fifteen pages makes you contemplate killing them both off randomly by the end and one of them was the main character.  On that note--

Style testing will save you a lot of time and tears

There’s a number of ways to style test; do a bunch of memes with your characters, do a short five page thing, just do a series of standalone pieces.  It’ll give you a much better idea of what will work for you and what won’t.

That said if you wanted to do a different art style for every page of your comic because that’s what scratches your id, go right ahead and do it because doing webcomics should be fun if you ask me.

Pick a legible font

I had a rant about this not too very long ago.  Go to Blambot and get yourself some legible fonts.  I’m dyslexic.

Try out batching your pages

When I talk about “batching” LoP pages, I mean that I sketched four or five of them, then I went through and inked all of those, then I went through and colored all of them.  This isn’t necessarily something that works for everyone but when I have consistent Work On Comics time and a buffer it’s something that usually works pretty well for me.  

Don’t pick a website for hosting that you think is ugly

Because the website your comic is on will inform a lot of your experience.  I’m currently on ComicFury and I’m very happy there, and he’s got a set of templates you can choose from and modify the colors of.  Also personally I don’t actually trust Tapastic as a hosting site, not to go into detail but someone I read had some very bad experiences with them basically trying to legalese the rights to her webcomic out from under her.  I can direct to a post of the Twitter thread if anyone wants it but you can also find it by searching “Tapastic” on my blog.

And finally, if you stop having fun it’s time for a break.

One of the things about doing consistent webcomic schedules is they don’t always allow for that “breathing in” part of the creative cycle.  It’s okay to do things like taking a break for a month to just... binge watch three different anime or something.  I thoroughly encourage a schedule that lets you enjoy other media while you’re actively working (sometimes literally; I sometimes listen to podcasts when I color) but sometimes you just straight up need a Real Vacation from your webcomic.  Definitely consider taking at least two weeks off between discrete chapters if that’s something your comic has.  Some artists do filler, some invite in guest artists, but it’s fine to just say “see you in October.”  

Good luck, Anon, and let me know when I can read it!

[cloveroctobers]

GENEVIEVE ALIU —

IG info/bio: @/genevealiu1 | 19k followers | currently on a journey as a junior doctor living in 🇦🇺🤎 | blm.card.co🖤 | sk💛

26 years of age

Born and raised in Glastonbury, England

Pisces sun? + libra moon?

Mother is Guyanese and works for a non-profit organization

Her father is Nigerian and works in property management

has one older brother who is a Prosthetist and resides in Nigeria with his pregnant fiancée

She can’t wait to be a auntie!!!

And a younger sister who is a medical laboratory technician

To say the least, their parents were happy that their children fell into the medical field. Based on their cultures it was a honor to have their children in these professions

Vieve grew up with a sassy demeanor and her parents have old videos on their camcorders to prove it lol, it never fails that the pair brings out the embarrassing vids during the holidays but vieve genuinely appreciates them 

Although thanksgiving is a RACIST American thing, vieve never misses the opportunity to share what she’s thankful for in life and counts all of it as blessings! But it’s still fuck the pilgrims

Has held a friendsgiving before, loves any moment where she can host gatherings or attend them! either is quite fine. She loves being around people

the only time she likes to look back on the past is to see how she and her family carried themselves then and how the evolved into who they are now, it’s interesting to see

Loves “how it started vs how it’s going” posts and might have participated in a few

Always knew from a young age that she wanted to help people in some way, she was always doing something to help around the house and especially her aging/sickly grandparents

Felt offended that many people around school that she thought were her friends would stab her in the back labeling her as this “fake saint” since she rather spend her time volunteering instead of going to house parties in hs

Don’t get it twisted, she still went to those too & had her fun but definitely felt like it was the same routine and nothing ever felt fulfilling at these functions after awhile

Well known with all the cliques around school but had her own group of friends that fit into many of those cliques but she never felt obligated to stick to one social group. If you were nice and cool with her, she was the same to you, if you weren’t? Depending on her mood, she’d ignore you/say things under her breath or be “fake nice” as a form of being the bigger person

Has a curly hair routine that she consistently follows (after struggling to find the right products to make them flourish) and gets annoyed with if her curls don’t turn out the way she knows they can, it’s always frustrating when things don’t turn out the way you want them to but isn’t afraid to at least try

Three times is the charm! Is one of her mottos

loves bright colors, flowy attire, big hats, brimmed hats, bucket hats, berets, etc...

Has faced racism/prejudices and bullying growing up in public spaces—mostly school/uni & some of those same hatred actions online now that she’s dating seb

Because of that there were times where she felt insecure but deff grew to forgive, heal, and rise above the hate, she knows her worth

Has never been happier in a relationship than she is with seb, he’s her “moody long-haired, soft-hearted bby”

they’re both complete fools for each other and vieve is more vocal about her being in love/finding her soulmate whereas seb doesn’t mind showing it rather than speaking it—even tho he’s on a podcast but we mind our business okay?!

Seb is thinking of moving to Australia with vieve, he’s ready to risk it all for this woman, HIS woman 🤩

canon: gives more than she should/taken advantage of/not reciprocating in relationships... ex) how she dated a guy that she did everything for! especially financially and also struggled to find her worth but once she did? Her aura shined brighter than before— Ik chill out there Rocco

Also believes in loving yourself first to attract what you need in this world and found that in her career and seb. I hope they’re endgame! Since they’re the only couple I rooted for this season? Except for tai & ciaran maybe? They’re probably not endgame but whatever

They still get nervous/shy around each other even tho they’ve been together for months now + are in a long distance relationship which is too cute! I think since they’re in this for the long game they can look back on moments and still feel the way they felt in that moment. You know if you get the chance or have already heard elderly people talk about their relationships and how they get all starry eyed? That’s vieve & seb, that shit gets me right in my feels ew

Vieve’s love language is quality time, it’s what she shows and likes along with acts of service from her partner

Makes the best jollof rice & her fav dish is Metemgee

Trying to be on a plant-based diet only but will have her cheat days on occasion—mostly when she’s drunk and forgets her diet plan lmao that’s me getting double cheeseburgers or anything with dairy drunk af

now living in Australia, she tried to like vegemite but...the it’s a no for her, respectfully ofc! She never wants to disrespect anyone

besides the food, the atmosphere is much nicer since she feels like she’s on a holiday almost everyday and that there’s much more to see and do when she has the time

Loves the beaches and is thinking about surfing lessons

yes she enjoys those doctor shows and can agree that most scenarios are not the same as rl ofc but great question!

Since she’s a junior doctor now, and on her way to graduation! She feels so accomplished and having this chance to complete what she’s wanted her whole life in a different place, makes her super emotional

All those stressful all-nighters will be worth it. She mostly did it on her own but is nothing but humble and Is thankful to those that have helped her along the way, what kind of person would she be if she didn’t mention them?

and when COVID hit, she was one of many already on the frontlines. Her studies became altered but this wouldn’t stop her for her mission on this earth, this was her purpose and she knew we would conquer it all—but definitely has empathy and gets angry with how it’s being handled from time to time

She’s been exposed to it first hand which aboustely worries her parents, seb, her friends, and friends from the villa

Keeps up to date when all medical news, has a whole app dedicated to health

Learning French with some of her free time and is doing well at it

It was only natural for her to become closer to elladine since their men are homies and have a podcast together

They’ve hung out a few times on a double dates before the boat vacation & once just as girls before vieve left to Australia

Vieve is always offering advice but knows that every relationship is different and what works for her and seb won’t work for elladine and Nicky, she loves them together and knows everyone has bumps in the road

feels there’s some sort of tension between her and Harry now? Which she found a little off putting since they were supposed to be friends but she realizes that Harry has a condition but it’s also not an excuse for him to treat her shitty sometimes which he does and feels like it comes out of nowhere most times but he always apologizes yet vieve is slowly getting tired of this unhealthy habits

So they’re talking less these days, which he notices!

She wants Harry to find his happiness too! If he hasn’t found it in mc first that is

has met Tim— he’s a great laugh and seems like a nice guy—they follow each other, talia and jake in person when she was out with seb—they were also super nice and congratulated them on their win, she went up to miles once on a night out—he’s still a arsehole, priya reached out to her via dm about her new boutique that she wanted her to model in someday, Hope was just as stunning in person along with Siobhan, Chelsea & mc s2 were also kind, and a couple of the guys also wished her and seb well

She’s also noticed some of the shit talking coming from Elisa, Allegra, Lucy, and mc s1 (subtle shade from mc, basically about how vieve reacted if mc decided to give Harry a go but that was only brought to her attention thru fans) online but again, vieve peeped it and felt majority of it didn’t require a response. She was too happy in life rn and she had a man and they don’t

Plans to get a komondor, thinks they’re super cute! — seb does not “if you love me, you’ll love our child.” “It’s a bloody mop dog! And I’m a cat dad, you know that!” “Don’t talk about him like that, he’s got feelings just like your cat babies!”

I feel like she’s a matcha & Frappuccino lover, tries to keep her drinks simple and feels guilty when she has to make adjustments but the heart wants what it wants

Mini Countryman owner, she also drives like a “granny” better safe than sorry! She hates fast drivers, there’s absolutely no need for it!

Minimal makeup: eyeshadow, moisturizer, & a nude lip and she’s good to go

Secretly obsessed with among us, second life, and SIMS!!!

Celeb crushes? Heath ledger, Tyler posey, KENDRICK SAMPSON, Jordan fisher, Algee smith, Donald Glover, Mack Wilds, Khleo Thomas, Robert Ri’chard, Tahj Mowry, & Hasan Minhaj

Listens to: DaniLeigh, ABIR, Mary J. Blige, TORI KELLY, Us the duo, 11:11, Jacob Latimore, fifth harmony, joya mooi, & Greentea Peng, etc...

Anthem: The Cheetah Girls — Cinderella

[hooklineandpodcast]

Podcatch of the Week

[A green tape to the left and skull to the right in the background with a quill and gear in front with a banner. The words The Magnus Archives over it]

The Magnus Archives by Jonathan Sims, produced by Rusty Quill

The Hook: “Make your statement, face your fear.”

The Magnus Archives is a weekly horror fiction anthology podcast examining what lurks in the archives of the Magnus Institute, an organisation dedicated to researching the esoteric and the weird. Join new head archivist Jonathan Sims as he attempts to bring a seemingly neglected collection of supernatural statements up to date, converting them to audio and supplementing them with follow-up work from his small but dedicated team.Individually, they are unsettling. Together they begin to form a picture that is truly horrifying because as they look into the depths of the archives, something starts to look back… - Their Website

Favourite Line:

ARCHIVIST: Test… Test… Test… 1, 2, 3… Right.

[Cough]

My name is Jonathan Sims. I work for the Magnus Institute, London, an organisation dedicated to academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal. The head of the Institute, Mr. Elias Bouchard, has employed me to replace the previous Head Archivist, one Gertrude Robinson, who has recently passed away.

I have been working as a researcher at the Institute for four years now and am familiar with most of our more significant contracts and projects. Most reach dead ends, predictably enough, as incidents of the supernatural, such as they are - and I always emphasise there are very few genuine cases - tend to resist easy conclusions. When an investigation has gone as far as it can, it is transferred to the Archives.

Now, the Institute was founded in 1818, which means that the Archive contains almost 200 years of case files at this point. Combine that with the fact that most of the Institute prefers the ivory tower of pure academia to the complicated work of dealing with statements or recent experiences and you have the recipe for an impeccably organised library and an absolute mess of an archive. This isn’t necessarily a problem - modern filing and indexing systems are a real wonder, and all it would need is a half-decent archivist to keep it in order. Gertrude Robinson was apparently not that archivist.

- Episode 1 - Angler Fish

Thoughts: The Magnus Archives is currently my favourite podcast. Which is a pretty strong statement for someone who loves a lot of podcasts like me, especially since I’m a very casual horror fan. For me Magnus Archives is the right mixture of mystery, horror, and human drama. I’m a person that loves connecting dots and seeing foreshadow. Magnus Archives is great for that. I also love shows that not only focus on the horror of what’s happening, but of the people involved. Each week there is a new statement and story which is great if you’re an anthology fan, and later on in the series there becomes a strong through line of the people in the archives which is great if you like linear stories about one group of people (which is usually my own preference). It covers both bases and it’s done extremely well. Jonny Sims is an excellent writer who knows how to tell a story without falling into negative tropes and stereotypes that can come with horror stories. The Magnus Archives is starting its fifth and final season tomorrow, April 2 to the public so I thought it was the perfect time to recommend it. 

Patreon: Yes, find them by looking up Rusty Quill

LGBTQA+ Characters: Yes

Transcript Available: There are official transcripts on their Patreon for free, however they don’t have every episode yet if I’m not mistaken, but there are full sets of fan made transcripts. If you google Magnus Archives Transcripts you’ll find them. They also have deluxe transcripts for Patreons which have added notes. 

If you liked: Archive 81, Wolf 359, Penumbra Podcast, The White Vault, SCP Archives, the Lost Cat Podcast, or I Am In Eskew you might like the Magnus Archives

Podcast Info: Their website is rustyquill.com

Enjoying The Magnus Archives? Please reblog and spread the word. Podcasts are usually passion projects and need the support of their listeners to get the word out. Catch you next week!

[summerofspock]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Melanie King Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, how many different ways can i tag an au, oh right, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Jonathan Sims is a disaster, lbr so is martin, Everybody Gets a Hug, especially martin, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Slice of Life, this will be as exactly full of tropes as you think Summary:

Martin Blackwood has worked at Magnus Coffee and Sundries for nearly eight years now. He likes his job. He likes his new manager even more. Even if he is a bit of a jerk. And also in a relationship. And would never give him the time of day even if he weren't.

Or that's what Martin thinks anyway.

**

Throwing myself headfirst into a new wip like the silly I am

[your-dietician]

Best extended 4th of July tech sales 2021

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/lifestyle/best-extended-4th-of-july-tech-sales-2021/

Best extended 4th of July tech sales 2021

Yahoo Life has received compensation to create this article, and receives commission from purchases made via links on this page. Pricing and availability are subject to change.

Grab yourself a tech toy; these extended 4th of July tech sales are popping! (Photo: Yahoo Life)

The 4th of July weekend might be over, but its tech sales still remain. That’s right! It’s time to save big on all manner of electronics. Thanks to mid-year release cycles and post-Prime Day overstock, post-July 4th is one of the best moments to shop for all things tech and the sales are still deep.

Whether you’ve had your eye on a new big-screen TV, a cushy pair of premium headphones or a starter set of smart home devices, this post-holiday weekend represents a window of opportunity. The price drops are epic! 

To save you time, we’ve gathered the very best still-alive 4th of July tech deals from Amazon, Walmart, Best Buy, Lowe’s and more. You’ll find products ranging from small (hello, AirPods) to large (70-inch 4K Samsung TV, anyone?) at amazing discounts.

Snap up the best extended 4th of July tech sales below:

Best 4K-TV sales

A massive Samsung 70-inch 4K TV for just $680? Yes, please! (Photo: Best Buy)

Still on sale for $700 (was $750), this Samsung 70-inch Class 7 Series LED 4K Ultra HD Smart TV has a massive 70-inch display with full 4K Ultra HD resolution; vivid, bright colors and deep, dark black levels. That exceptional picture quality supports HDR (High Dynamic Range) movies and TV shows for the best 4K viewing experience around. And shoppers say this 4K TV is great for families.

“…The whole family loves it, especially my husband,” raved a delighted five-star Best Buy reviewer. “He is so glad we got this! Both him and our son love gaming on this nice sized TV. My daughter and I enjoy watching our shows. We are all pleased to say the least!…”

It’s also Wi-Fi-enabled with smart home support for Alexa, Google Assistant and Samsung’s Bixby. Video-streaming capability is also baked into this cake. Translation: You won’t have to buy a separate device to watch Netflix, YouTube, HBO Max, Apple TV+, Hulu, Peacock, Paramount+, Disney+ and much, much more. You’re ready to start binge-watching as soon as you turn it on.

Story continues

Check out more 4th of July 4K-TV sales below:

Toshiba 43-inch 43C350KU C350 Series LED 4K Ultra HD Smart Fire TV, $320 (was $370), amazon.com

Insignia 55-inch NS-55F301NA22 F30 Series LED 4K Ultra HD Smart Fire TV, $400 (was $500), amazon.com

Sony 55-inch Class X80J Series LED 4K Ultra HD Smart Google TV, $750 (was $950), bestbuy.com

LG 65-inch Class 4K Ultra HD NanoCell Smart TV, $997 (was $1,200), walmart.com

LG 65-inch Class CX Series OLED 4K Ultra HD Smart webOS TV, $1,900 (was $2,200), bestbuy.com

Sony 65-inch Class X80J Series LED 4K Ultra HD Smart Google TV, $900 (was $1,150), bestbuy.com

Best home audio sales

Get these Beats beauties for half price right now! (Photo: Walmart)

On sale for $149 (was $300) for post-4th of July, the Beats Solo Pro Headphones sync to just about any smartphone or laptop via Bluetooth, delivering rich audio and heart-thumping bass. Super sleek, the pro-level headphones come in Gray and Ivory. They’re noise-canceling, so you can block out just about all background and ambient noise to enjoy your favorite music and podcasts.

“These beats are so pretty. They sound amazing and definitely block out background noise,” raved a savvy Walmart shopper. “They charge and are compatible with iPhones….” 

The Beats have up to 40 hours of battery life per charge, so you don’t have to be tethered to an outlet all day long. They pump out a solid stream of music with top-notch audio for nearly two days — impressive, considering that most wireless headphones tap out after about 30 hours.

Check out more home audio sales below:

Bietrun Wireless Bluetooth Earbuds, $26 (was $130), walmart.com

Beats Flex Wireless Earbuds, $39 (was $50), amazon.com

Apple AirPods (wireless charging case), $160 (was $199), amazon.com

Apple AirPods Max, $490 (was $549), amazon.com

Philips Wireless In-Ear Headphones, $30 (was $60), walmart.com

Beats Solo3 Wireless On-Ear Headphones, $120 (was $200), amazon.com

Samsung Galaxy Buds+, $100 (was $150), bestbuy.com

Meidong Bluetooth Noise-Canceling Over-Ear Headphones, $35 (was $70), walmart.com

Best smartphone and tablet sales

An iPad with 40,000+ five star reviews, for less than $300? Is this for real? (Photo: Amazon)

On sale for $299 (was $329), the latest entry-level iPad model (32GB/Wi-Fi model) has the same impressive 10.2-inch display, quick Touch ID fingerprint sensor and 3GB of memory as the last version, but it features a speedier processor. You’ll notice — and appreciate — the speed with any videos, web sites or games. (For the tech savvy, the speed comes from Apple’s A12 Bionic chip). To say this thing is popular is an understatement: It has a ridiculous 40,000+ five-star reviews!

“I love it! It’s fast and easy to use plus it’s super affordable compared to the other models,” wrote a satisfied Amazon shopper. “The display is beautiful and picture quality is great…It’s like I have a mini laptop everywhere I go. Perfect for students, the screen quality is amazing and the battery lasts all day long.”

Check out more smartphone and tablet sales below:

Apple iPad Air (10.9-inch, Wi-Fi, 256GB), $699 (was $749), amazon.com

Core Innovations 7-inch, $54 (was $70), bhphotovideo.com

onn. 8-inch Tablet Pro, $79 (was $99), walmart.com

Samsung Galaxy A11 (Net10), $99 (was $149), walmart.com

Lenovo Tab M10 Plus, $160 (was $200), bestbuy.com

Best video game sales

Save 60 percent on super-popular games. (Photo: Amazon)

On sale for $20 (down from $50), BioShock: The Collection features all three games in the popular franchise: Bioshock Remastered, Bioshock 2 and Bioshock Infinite. These fun-tastic games explore futuristic science fiction worlds underwater and above the clouds.

“One of the best video game trilogies of modern gaming,” raved a delighted gamer. “All three games play and look fantastic, and 2k has done a great job with the attention to detail with all of them. I’ve had zero performance issues.”

Check out more video game sales below:

Luna Gaming Controller, $56 (was $70), amazon.com

NBA 2K21 (Xbox Series X), $20 (was $70), amazon.com

Mafia: Definitive Edition (PS4), $20 (was $40), amazon.com

Call of Duty: Infinite Warfare (PS4), $15 (was $40), amazon.com

The Sims 4 (Xbox One), $5 (was $50), cdkeys.com

Tom Clancy’s Rainbow Six Siege (Xbox One), $13 (was $35), cdkeys.com

Minecraft (Xbox One), $10 (was $30), cdkeys.com

Outriders: Day One Edition (PS4), $40 (was $60), walmart.com

Microsoft Xbox Series S 512GB with Xbox Game Pass and Accessories, $636 (was $700), qvc.com

Grand Theft Auto V: Premium Edition (PS4), $20 (was $60), walmart.com

Madden NFL 21 (Xbox One), $20 (was $60), walmart.com

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order (Xbox One), $30 (was $60), walmart.com

The Pillars of The Earth (PS4), $29 (was $45), walmart.com

Crash Team Racing: Nitro Fueled (PS4), $34 (was $40), walmart.com

PlayStation Plus Membership (12 months), $39 (was $60), cdkeys.com

Playstation Plus Membership (three months), $20 (was $25), cdkeys.com

Best smart-home sales

Start building the smart home of your dreams today, with this discounted bundle. (Photo: Lowe’s)

For this extended 4th of July sale, Lowe’s is giving you a chance to score the Google Nest Mini (second generation) and GE Smart Plug for just $40 (was $60).

The next-gen Nest Mini packs the Google Assistant into a sleek design with really great sound. Enjoy crisp vocals and balanced bass while you stream songs from Spotify, YouTube Music, SiriusXM, Pandora, Apple Music and more. Want a smart home? Now’s the time! If you have a phone in your pocket and a Wi-Fi network at home, you’re well on your way to building a smart home.

Plus, the bundle includes the GE Smart Plug (a $15 value), which can easily pair with the Google Nest Mini. Simply plug into a wall outlet, then plug in anything — a lamp, a TV or even a coffeemaker.

Then connect the plug to your Wi-Fi network and use your phone to sync to the Google Home app (for Android smartphones and Apple iPhones). That’s it! Now you can control just about anything in your home with your phone or just the sound of your voice via the Google Assistant. Fun!

“I am amazed at how much sound can come out of this little bitty device,” raved a delighted five-star Lowe’s reviewer. “The ease of setting this little unit up via Wi-Fi was a breeze. All I have done so far was talk to the device and it does what I ask with the weather even popping up on occasion which is what I was looking at. I like the fact that it sync to my devices with the calendar update with the busy schedule I have…I would recommend this little device for not only sound, but also ease of use. It can make your life simple and up-to-date if you carry a busy workload. Set a reminder and it will remind you even with a little music.”

Check out more smart-home sales below:

TP-Link N300 WiFi Extender (TL-WA855RE), $17 (was $30), amazon.com

Google Nest Mini, $35 (was $49), lowes.com

Google Nest Learning Smart Thermostat, $199 (was $249), lowes.com

Google Nest Hello, $149 (was $229), lowes.com

Lenovo Smart Clock Essential, $30 (was $50), lowes.com

Brookstone PhotoShare Digital Picture Frame, $110 (was $130), lowes.com

Moen 7594BL Arbor One-Handle Pulldown Kitchen Faucet, $289 (was $500), amazon.com

Honeywell RLV4300A1005 5-2 Day Programmable Thermostat (renewed), $10 (was $35), eBay.com

Google Nest Cam Indoor Security Camera, $130 (was $200), walmart.com

Defender Ultra HD 4K Wired Outdoor Security System (1TB), $260 (was $450), walmart.com

Monoprice Wireless Smart Outdoor Dual Socket, $25 (was $38), target.com

XODO Smart Wi-Fi HD Video Doorbell, $90 (was $150), walmart.com

DHcamera Wired Spotlight Cam HD Security Camera, $150 (was $230), walmart.com

Garmin Vivosport Fitness Tracker (renewed), $70 (was $200), eBay.com

Kamep Wireless Wi-Fi Video Doorbell Camera, $75 with on-page coupon (was $90), amazon.com

Best home-office sales

Sleek, thin, and convertible (lapop to tablet), this Samsung Chromebook Plus V2 is $180 off. (Photo: Amazon)

For extended 4th of July sales, the slick Samsung Chromebook Plus V2 convertible laptop is just $370 — that’s 33 percent off.

Incredibly thin, the Samsung Chromebook is actually more than just a laptop. It has a brilliant 12.2-inch HD touchscreen display (at 1900×1200 resolution) and flexible 360-degree hinge, so it can rotate to any angle for use as a tablet.

“I wanted both a tablet and a computer. I love that you can download apps and use them for both the computer and the tablet form,” reported a five-star fan. “The stylus makes using Lightroom and other creative apps a breeze. Being able to use the cloud is a must because the storage would fill up pretty quickly…The large screen is also good for editing photos, drawing, and taking notes. Startup, web browsing, and apps are quick. The battery life is really great for everyday use…”

Check out more home-office sales below:

Cloud Massage Shiatsu Foot Massager Machine, $250 with on-page coupon (was $350), amazon.com

Renpho Neck Shoulder Massager, $30 with on-page coupon (was $50), amazon.com

Vybe Percussion Massage Gun, $150 with on-page coupon (was $200), amazon.com

DamKee Massage Gun, $56 with on-page coupon (was $110), amazon.com

WorkEZ Rise Aluminum Laptop Stand, $30 (was $33), qvc.com

Samsung 27-inch Smart Monitor, $300 (was $329), qvc.com

HP OfficeJet Pro 8035e All-in-One Printer, $220 (was $249), qvc.com

Asus Chromebook C223, $265 (was $340), hsn.com

Bell & Howell Adjustable Laptop Desk, $32 (was $50), hsn.com

Embassy NanoShred 8-Sheet Paper Shredder, $100 (was $124), hsn.com

OttLite Wireless Charging Desk Lamp, $35 (was $61), hsn.com

Apple MacBook Pro (mid-2020), $1,099 (was $1,299), bhphotovideo.com

Microsoft Surface Pro 5 (renewed), $540 (was $800), eBay.com

Ousgar 47-inch White Desk, $100 (was $266), walmart.com

Hemu Fashion Bamboo Laptop Lap Tray, $38 (was $80), walmart.com

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[athina-blaine]

“But squid is good, right? Want to get the calamari as a start?”

“Yeah, squid’s okay.” Mia’s phone buzzed and she glanced at it. She sighed, a sound that spoke of endless suffering. “But I think I’d rather have the cobb salad.”

“Is that your dad? What, is the squid going to give us food poisoning?”

“Yeah.”

Natalie laughed, but Mia hadn’t looked up from her menu.

-

Natalie Wilson just wanted her date to go well.

For @there-is-no-right-way​

Chapters: 1/1 [Complete]

Words: 3,505

Tags:  POV Outsider, Parenthood, Fluff and Humor, Dating, Cryptid Dads Cramping Their Teenage Daughter's Style

~

Taking one last moment to fix her hair in the mirror, Natalie leaned back in her car seat with a haggard sigh.

It was just dinner and a movie. Her and Mia literally ate at a Red Lobster and watched the new Magician’s Crescendo just last week. This was the same thing.

She pressed her face into the steering wheel.

Except that it wasn’t.

They were girlfriends now.

It wasn’t the same thing at all.

Without giving herself time to put the car in reverse and speed into the nearby pond, she shouldered the door open.

Relax. This was Mia they were talking about. Even if the date ended in Natalie absolutely humiliating herself, Mia would just take it all in with that adorable, secret smile of hers. They’d be fine. Their friendship would be fine. It’s fine. Natalie was fine.

She pressed the doorbell, trying to focus on its pleasant chiming as opposed to the panicked dance of her heart. The door opened and Mr. Sims was there.

“Right on time, Miss Wilson.”

Some of the stiffness left her shoulders. Miss Wilson. So posh. Pip pip tickety whatsit, and so on. A hoot and a half.

Mr. Sims smirked, and a heat rose to her face. Was she being obvious?

“Is, uh, Mia ready?”

“Just about. I believe she’s finishing up her hair. Come in.”

Mr. Sims led them through their tidy living room and into the kitchen where Mr. Blackwood was crouching over a pan. Looked like fish. The smell of garlic and spices wafted over her and her mouth watered. Man, she was starving. 

“Smells good, Mr. B.”

Mr. Blackwood looked up from the pan and smiled. “Thank you.” Lowering the heat of the stove, he turned towards them, wiping his hands on his apron. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Aw.” She futzed with her short black skirt, which still had traces of cat hair, despite her efforts with the lint roller. “Thanks. The earrings are my mom’s, though. She’s letting me borrow them.”

“It suits you, love.”

Mr. Sims nodded his agreement. “Your mother was telling us about your violinist audition. How did that go?”

“Oh, man.” Her fingers had gotten completely tangled in the last bar and when the scout had said, Good luck on your performance, she had said, Thanks, you too. “I think it went okay. I don’t know, the scout was kind of standoffish. I don’t think she like the song I played.”

“You did fine. She was just battling a bout of indigestion.”

Natalie chuckled, but Mr. Sims’ expression didn’t change. He did that a lot, actually. Just saying these strange things, confident in stuff he shouldn’t be confident in. Perhaps it was just an unusual style of British humor?

Mr. Blackwood nudged his husband’s side.

“Go check on Mia, Jon. She won’t want to keep her date waiting.”

Thoughts of Mr. Sims’ oddities fled her head. Her date. That was Natalie, Natalie was Mia’s date. They were talking about Natalie and Mia. And their date. Their date.

She was so absorbed in the comment that she only somewhat processed the look Mr. Blackwood gave his husband. Something akin to the look her mom gave her when she rambled on too long about her true crime podcasts. Mr. Sims scrubbed the back of his head, the closest she’d ever seen him to looking sheepish, before making his way up the stairs.

Natalie prepared herself for more small talk with Mr. Blackwood, but there was a thumping sound, a yelp, and a moment later, Mia came charging down the stairs.

“I’m so sorry!”

Natalie was incapable of responding at first. Mia had curled her soft brown hair into ringlets and her eyes sparkled. She was wearing the necklace Natalie had gotten her for her birthday last year.

“So,” said Mr. Blackwood, “dinner and a movie, is it?”

“Yep,” Mia said as she rounded the corner, throwing her arm around Natalie’s shoulder. Natalie’s stomach swooped.

“Yeah, uh, we’re going to see that new Haunting’s Row movie.”

“Sounds like fun. Did I ever tell you where my husband took us on our first date?”

“Dad.”

“A library. And not even to the parts where everyone went to make out.”

“Dad.”

Mr. Blackwood laughed, either not noticing or choosing to ignore his husband’s scowl. “Well, you two have fun. Try not to stay out too late.”

“We won’t,” said Mia, herding Natalie towards the door. As Natalie walked down the drive towards her car, though, Mia turned to her fathers in the doorway.

“Be cool tonight, okay?” she said, her voice low. “Especially you.”

“Why especially me?” Mr. Sims asked. The glare he received from both his daughter and husband was enough to scorch Natalie ten feet away.

“I’ll make sure he behaves,” Mr. Blackwood said, clapping a hand on his husband’s shoulder. “Have fun, sweetie.”

Mia pouted scornfully for good measure, before leaning up to plant a kiss on both their cheeks and turning with a wave. The two of them loaded into the car and Natalie flipped on her selected playlist for the evening before backing out of the driveway.

“Oh, I love this song,” Mia said, and Natalia flushed at the praise, having carefully curated this playlist over the course of the last five days. Everything had to be exactly right, after all.

 “So,” Natalie started once they reached the highway. “I was thinking of that Thai place over on Victoria and 8th. What do you think?”

Mia was about to answer, but her phone dinged.

“Oh, just a sec.” Her phone clicked at she unlocked it. In the corner of Natalie’s eyes, she could see Mia’s nose scrunch, just a bit, the way it did whenever she was irritated.

“That your old man?”

Mia put her phone away with a sniff. “Yeah.”

Natalie raised a brow, waiting for an answer. Texts from Mia’s dad that got her to make that face were always interesting. Seeming to sense her expectation, Mia huffed.

“Giovanni’s place is doing free cannolis with a large pizza.”

“Oh, awesome,” Natalie said, flicking on her blinker to turn right at the next exit. “Your dad always knows the best deals in town. I don’t know why you get so grumpy about it.”

“I guess it’s not impossible he could have found it online or something. He's way too lame for that, though."

Well, yeah, where else would he have found it? The newspaper? Actually, Mr. Sims seemed like the type to still read newspapers.

“Your dads are awesome. My mom still shows off the doilies Mr. Blackwood made for her last Christmas. I love it when he calls me love, too. It’s so,” she tried to find the words and failed, “British.”

“Why, yes, British people in Britain.” Mia looked out the car window. “Have we moved countries since last I checked?”

“You know what I mean. You Englishmen with your adorable little accents.”

“We don’t have accents. You have an accent.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Say aluminium.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Say it. A-lu-min-i-um.”

Natalie made a face. “A-lu-min-um.”

“You’re missing an entire I.”

“I am not. Americans don’t spell it with that I. We’re efficient like that.”

Mia settled back in her seat with a terse sound. “Efficiency, bastardization, whatever you want to call it.”

They both only lasted a few moments before bursting out into giggles. Their exit was fast approaching, and Natalie checked if the lane was clear.

“So, Giovanni’s?”

“Yeah, it’s hard to say no to a free cannoli.” Then, she added in a low grumble, “Even if it’s cheating.”

Natalie shook her head. She just didn’t get Mia sometimes.

As she drove down the darkening road, she glanced cautiously to her side. Mia’s hand was resting on the center console. Just sitting there. Probably cold, you know?

Holding her breath, Natalie crept one hand off the steering wheel and over to Mia’s (doubtlessly cold) hand. When she touched her wrist, Mia startled, and Natalie flinched back. Dammit. She should have asked first.

Then, Mia smiled and took Natalie’s hand, interlocking their fingers together. Oh, that was smooth. Mia was so smooth. Her heart pounded in her ears as her world shrank to the single point of their joined hands.

“Slow down!”

Whoops.

 Natalie’s only ever been to Giovanni’s once before, when she and the gang were skulking around downtown for carbs after Mia’s soccer practice. It was nicely decorated, and the lowlights set the intimate mood Natalie wanted.

However, the place was nearly empty, on a Friday night, no less. While it suited their purposes, she suspected there was a reason why the desserts were free.

The hostess jumped at the sight of them but led them both to their seats.

“So,” Natalie began, flipping through the menu. “Toppings.”

“Definitely green peppers. Onions, too.”

“No onions.”

“What? You love onions.”

“Yeah, but, you know,” a damning heat rose to her face, “for later.”

“Oh.” Mia’s lips curled as she stared at her menu. She cleared her throat. “I brought mints, okay?”

Oh, mints. Genius.  Why hadn’t she thought of that? “Okay, onions. Pepperoni?” Mia scrunched up her nose. “Oh, right. Miss I-Don’t-Like-The-Best-Pizza-Topping.”

“Look, you wouldn’t be so hot for it either if your dad was telling you about all the crazy butchers he’s run into as a bedtime story.”

“Right, right. The, uh, what was it? Bonepuller?”

“Boneturner. And he was a dickhead. Turned my dad’s bones right out of him.”

“My mom wouldn’t even let me watch that Disney movie about the kid vampire. You ever thinking about writing down some of those spooky stories? You and your dad are so imaginative with that sort of thing.”

“Nah, that stuff’s boring.”

Like a story about an invasion of parasitic flesh worms was boring. No accounting for taste. Perhaps Natalie would have to take it to paper herself someday. “But squid is good, right? Want to get the calamari as a start?”

“Yeah, squid’s okay.” Mia’s phone buzzed and she glanced at it. She sighed, a sound that spoke of endless suffering. “But I think I’d rather have the cobb salad.”

“Is that your dad? What, is the squid going to give us food poisoning?”

“Yeah.”

Natalie laughed, but Mia hadn’t looked up from her menu.

She took after her old man far too much, in Natalie's opinion.

 The movie theater, unlike the restaurant, was packed. They waited in line for fifteen minutes and when they entered the auditorium, only a few scattered seats remained.

How hadn’t Natalie seen this coming? It’s not like Haunted Row 3 wasn’t the most highly anticipated horror event of the summer! She shouldn’t have insisted on that cheesecake alongside the cannoli, but Mia loved cheesecake. What were they going to do now?

Mia’s phone chimed again. Natalie turned, hopeful, like a dog to a bell. Yanking her phone out, Mia scanned the text, lips puckered like she was sucking on sour candy.

“There’s some seats over there.”

Natalie turned around, and, yeah, there they were. Two seats shoved in the far back. Not ideal, but better than nothing. She was equal parts relieved because the night wasn’t ruined, and stunned, because how? She glanced around the movie theater, not sure what she was looking for, but sure, whatever it was, was looking right back at her.

“I’m going to make a call real quick,” Mia said as they claimed the seats. She brought the phone to her ear, turning away from Natalie and lowering her voice to a waspish whisper.

“Hello? Jon! You said you wouldn’t— It was implied— Give Dad the phone. Do it. Dad? Yeah.” Mia nodded. “Yeah. Bury him in a board game or something. Okay. Yeah. Yes, Jon, I love you, too. Okay. Bye.”

She turned back to Natalie with a smile, a smile Natalie tried to return, but she felt it came out rather shaky.

“You said your dad worked with security cameras or something, right?”

“What? Pft. No, he’s a teacher at Frederickson. Where did you get an idea like that?”

“Uh—”

The movie started. Mia shushed her and Natalie glared, but settled in.

 They only got halfway through the before Natalie fled the auditorium with trembling legs and a pounding heart. She splashed her face in the bathroom, trying to control her breathing. The door opened, and Natalie looked up to see Mia in the mirror, and she groaned.

“I told you to wait. You’re missing the movie.”

“It’s Haunted Row. Everyone dies but the virgin and the dog, the end.” Mia put a hand on Natalie’s back, rubbing in soothing circles. “I don’t understand why you take us to these horror movies when you get scared so easily. They always give you nightmares.”

“They don’t always give me nightmares.”

Mia lifted a brow. With a frustrated sigh, Natalie shook off her hand.

“I mean, I guess I just like it.”

“How can you like it? You were about to burst into tears.”

“I don’t know.” It was hard to put into words, how being afraid made her feel. “You know how you like spicy foods, right? It hurts to eat, but it still feels good?”

Mia nodded.

“Well, it’s like that. I just like feeling that way.” She turned to the mirror with a sniff, grabbing a bundle of paper towels. “The bit with the spider was a bit much, though.”

“Don’t tell my dad. He’ll go on for hours on how adorable spiders are and that everyone else is just mean.”

Oh, Natalie was aware of the monologue. With a wet chuckle, she patted her face dry, thankful her mother had suggested the waterproof makeup that night. “Well, let’s go back.”

“You sure? I think they’re playing that new superhero movie further down.”

“I’m fine. I want to see the dog live.”

They took their seats back, and as the movie continued, dread slowly slunk back over her. If she curled up a little tighter into Mia’s side, however, well, that was okay, especially when Mia wrapped her arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close.

Things weren’t so scary after that.

 Natalie pulled up into the driveway, and that was it. Date over. But her shoulders were still stiff with tension.

She knew what she wanted to do, but how did you go about actually doing it? None of the articles were clear on that tidbit, in her opinion.

“Here we are,” she said.

Mia hummed, making no effort to leave. That was a good sign, right? But Natalie was still frozen in place. Oh, god, this was a nightmare.

“Don’t move.”

Natalie jumped. Mia was reaching towards her with both hands and gently brushed her shoulder. Her face became hot, but when Mia pulled back to reveal a spider in her palm, she leapt back with a shriek.  

“How can you just hold it like that?”

“Dad used to have a pet tarantula when I was a kid.”

Oh. Yeah, that made sense. She wasn’t expecting an actual explanation.

She slumped in her seat. The hysterical giggles started small at first, before they began wracking her entire body. “You’re so cool. I can’t believe …” Sobering, she swallowed down the words. “Well, I’m just glad you wanted to, you know. Do this. Together.”

“Yeah, I, uh,” Mia ran a hand through her ringlets, which had slowly relaxed and fuzzed over the course of the evening. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. I think you’re pretty cool, too.”

Mia was still leaning over the console, much closer than before.

“Is it alright if I kiss you?”

Natalie could just barely manage a jerky nod. They had forgotten the mints, but that was okay. It was simple, just two mouths gently pressed together, but it was Mia, therefore, it was perfect.

“I should probably get you inside,” Natalie said when they parted, her insides warm and gooey.

"Yeah, maybe."

Natalie was halfway up the sidewalk when she turned, expecting to find Mia by her side, but Mia was by the car. With her hands still cupped, Mia was furiously whispering at the little speck of a spider. Good grief, she could be a strange one, at times.

Gently depositing it on the ground, Mia straightened, clapping her hands clean. When their eyes met, she smiled, before gesturing to the house.

Strange, yes, but there was something oh so loveable in that strangeness.

“We’re home,” Mia announced as she burst through the front door. Her parents were crouched over the living room table, playing a game with cards and dice. Mr. Sims was so absorbed, Mr. Blackwood had to nudge him with his elbow, and he reemerged with a confused mumble.

“Did you have a good time?” Mr. Blackwood asked.

Natalie nodded. “Yeah, we had a great time.” She turned to Mia. “I should probably head out, I promised my mom I'd come home right away. Study group tomorrow?”

"Yeah, sounds good," Mia said, dropping a kiss on Natalie's cheek. "Remind Greg it's his turn to bring snacks, okay?"

Natalie was too flustered by the kiss to come up with a response, and Mia waved as she raced upstairs. Mr. Sims got up from the table to walk Natalie to the door.

“I’m glad you had fun.”

“Thanks. And thanks for all the, uh, tips. They really helped us out.” She glanced down at her fidgeting fingers. “I really wanted tonight to go well.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. I’m rather in the doghouse for it. Nothing less than what I deserve, I suppose.”

“Yeah, I was wondering, though. About the, uh, movie theater seats?” She scrubbed her arm. How to phrase it? “Were you …?”

Mr. Sims stared. His eyes were so piercing.

“Never mind, it’s nothing. I should probably get going.”

Mr. Sims smiled, and there was a peculiar quirk to his lips. “Drive safely. And, again, don’t worry about the audition, I’m sure the scout loved what you played. Who doesn’t love Adele?”

He always had kind things to say. As he closed the door and Natalie turned to leave, she had a thought.

She hadn’t told anyone she was playing a pop song, not even her mom. It had been too embarrassing deciding to play such mainstream music, but it had been the only song she was confident in playing.

She turned, wanting to know who had told him, when she saw it.

Eyes.

Dozens and dozens of eyes.

The door closed with a definitive click!, but she could still feel it. Her legs were glued to the ground, waiting to be pushed into a fight or a flight. Forcing herself to move, she stumbled back to her car, and she had the most peculiar sensation that she was standing in front of an audience waiting to laugh at her.

Her hands shook on the steering wheel as her chest effused with fear. Real fear, not the pre-packaged popcorn fear from a scary movie, although she wouldn’t have even been able to make that distinction ten seconds ago.

A text tone pulled her out of her stupefaction.

>call me if u can’t sleep tonight, ok? <3

The tension hissed out of her body like a steaming kettle. She looked up and, in the window, she could see Mr. Blackwood and Mr. Sims arguing over something on the table. The board game, probably. Mr. Sims wasn’t looking at her. In any sense.

An old memory came back to her. It was only a few years ago, just before she started high school. Her dad had come to visit, and it had ended badly, as it usually did, and she had stormed out of the house, as she usually did.

She had walked and walked and walked until her legs hurt and the clouds turned from white and fluffy to dark and menacing. The road had stretched on and on behind her. She couldn't make it in time.

Then, a familiar car had rolled over the horizon and stopped just in front of her, and her mom's head popped out of the open window, crying and spitting fury and fire and ‘what-were-you-thinking’s. Mr. Sims was in the driver’s seat, watching her. Seeing her. His eyes had been soft and concerned.

She blinked. Mr. Blackwood and Mr. Sims were still in the window, only they were laughing now. Mr. Sims kissed the side of his husband’s head before they moved inside and out of sight.

She didn’t know what she knew, about Mia or her fathers or any of it. But there were a lot of things she didn’t know, right? The ocean was the epitome of unknowable, but she and Mia were still planning a trip to the beach at the start of summer vacation, you know?

Snapping the car in reverse, she craned her neck to make sure no one was coming down the lane.

And hey, her mom used to be in a cult when she had been a teenager.

Every kid’s parent had something weird about them, right?

[therachelperspective]

BOOK | Unqualified by Anna Faris

Remind me to pay more attention.

When I was about to begin this book, I was blindsided by the subtitle that I have never seen and only found on the official title page once I opened it. This is not just Unqualified by Anna "Rhymes with Donna” Faris; this is Unqualified: Love and Relationship Advice from a Celebrity Who Just Wants to Help. Excuse me WHAT?! Turns out, I’ve been under a rock and this is the gist of both her podcast and her book. And here I thought I knew things. *facepalm*

While she may not necessarily be qualified in the love department, she is actually qualified to write a book. Or at least a little more qualified than some other celebrities. Our lovely Anna actually has a degree in English from the University of Washington, and that honestly gave me so much hope going into Unqualified. One thing I always struggle with is when celebrities are given book deals seeming to only sprout from their fame; most are horrible writers, but I suppose that’s what gives those books their charm, proving even in the slightest that yes, celebrities are just as flawed as we are, except with more money. ANYWHO, finding out that Anna knows her stuff was such a promising fact. ‘Cause let me tell you, if I based reading a book on it’s Foreword, I would have put this one down and walked far away. (That’s not entirely true, but you know what I mean).

Let’s start by talking about the Foreword by her then-husband Chris Pratt.

First and foremost, I want to say that, knowing that Anna and Chris announced/got divorced shortly after the publishing of this book in 2017 kind of puts a damper on the whole thing. Not because it may insinuate to some readers that she should not be giving advice on love and relationships, but rather because they were such a cute couple and, as many fans said once it was announced, makes it feel like love is dead if these two couldn’t make it. So the dedication, the foreword, and the plethora of times she discussed her relationship with Chris throughout the book were all so sad. And the way she talks about him and the anecdotes of what he’s done for her... it really is so difficult to believe that these two didn’t last.

Secondly, Chris Pratt should not be writing. This foreword was so painfully awkward that, like I said, if I were basing my continuation of a book on that first introduction, I would not have read it. And if you Google the topic, you will find numerous online articles with this same connotation; we all agree it is baaaad. Not only did he spend more time talking about himself and how he doesn’t know what a “foreword” is, he also made it sound like it was just an obligation with a word count. “I love her and respect her and told her I would” was his reasoning. Not once did I feel like he set the mood for the book from a more personal perspective, as a person who was her family for a decade, but rather he was giving us a short biography of Anna – things like how they both grew up in Washington, how they’re both actors that play idiots (his Andy Dwyer to her Cindy Campbell), how acting is her passion, various traits of her personality (how she is kind and what he calls an “information collector”). There was one line that made me believe that he was writing this foreword as a way to convince us to give Anna a book deal as if we were the publishers. He says “Anna deserves this book. I can promise you it will be a great and interesting read.” Yes, Chris, it was. But your foreword could have provided so much more than a grade-school style report on your ex-wife. I’m so glad Anna also wrote her own introduction. If you do end up reading this book, please just skip right to her intro.

In the first handful of chapters of Unqualified, I wasn’t entirely convinced that this book was worth reading.  Especially during those times where she straight up admitted that she was giving advice based on speculation instead of actual experience. I’m not saying that Anna has to have experienced everything experience-able in order to talk to people about it, but saying that she didn’t actually have a relationship related to a certain topic just puts a damper on what she’s trying to help with. Like the list of men she says to not date; it includes musicians, doctors, athletes, chefs, therapists, and actors. (It also includes magicians, but I think most women steer clear of them anyways lol). With the exception of actors, none of those are based on her own personal experiences with anyone in those professions. She even says to us “I have zero experience.” So who should you date, as per Anna Faris? Woodworkers. Or a guy who makes boats, because they brood. *shakes head* Girl, I can’t even.

While I’m indifferent to the portions of Unqualified regarding her childhood through most of her young adult life (college shenanigans don’t really pique my interest), there is a passage that has stuck with me long after finishing this book. Anna’s childhood crush/ “boyfriend” (she was 8 years old here, call it what you will) had just dumped her. So she goes home, grabs an orange from the fridge, writes this horrible boy’s name on it in marker, and then proceeds to chuck said orange into the forest behind her family’s home as a means to get over him. Anna dubs this the “orange ceremony,” which she says she must have felt it symbolic, wherein casting fruit into the “abyss” would rid her of the emotions of the situation. She may have been a child at the time, but as an adult, I absolutely love this concept. This sort of symbology is very reminiscent of various practices in paganism. Obviously not her intent as I highly doubt she was a practicing pagan at eight-years-old, but the truth is, things like this can actually work. Some of us older individuals would just need a lot of oranges.

The reason it has taken me soooo much longer to write a review for Unqualified (I finished it months ago, yikes!), is because I honestly just don’t know how I feel about it. My notebook is filled with pull-quotes and excerpts that stirred me in some way, shape, or form – and many of them, very good! – but as an overall novel, I can’t decide if I should keep it for a future reread, or donate it.  The only thing I feel that really sticks out in my mind about this book was how much I hated Chris Pratt’s introduction. And that is sad and depressing.

I did like that Unqualified was not just purely about love and relationships advice, and that it was intermixed with her personal memoir. I say that because there were plenty of times where her advice was not even advice at all. Like, for example, when she moved to Los Angeles with/for her then boyfriend. It’s reminiscent of an action many women take in tales of love. However, Anna also followed a career venture. This wasn’t solely about following her boyfriend out of sheer infatuation; if the relationship didn’t work out, she still had something there to fall back on, and that’s not something typical of an experience like this. Granted, yes, it’s kudos on her part for going for her own reasons, as well as for a guy, and it plays into her discussion of feminism at the beginning of the chapter. But in this of many parts of the book that was supposedly advice-driven, I made the note that maybe one sentence or one small paragraph at the end could have passed for guidance. At least, in most cases, she’s aware it’s not helpful.

Despite my typical qualms with books like Unqualified, at least for the time being I think it will remain on my shelves with my other keepers. Although her counsel is indeed questionable at times, it’s hard to deny how much I relate to Anna Faris and agreed with a good handful of the statements she makes in the book. And instead of doing all the talking herself, portions of Unqualified found basis from her podcast listeners through "Listener Responses,” as well as discussions and interviews with some people in her life (like Sim Sarna, her podcast partner in crime, and then husband Chris Pratt), and I like that aspect about it. It’s not just Anna retelling information from her perspective; it’s letting those people she has learned from have a voice as well.

I jotted a final note that I think sums up my thoughts on this book pretty well: Unqualified probably could have just remained a podcast. But for those of us not necessarily interested in listening to hours upon hours of content, the book is a good alternative, especially since Anna mentions in the beginning that the book is based on what she learned through two years of the podcast. A lot of Unqualified contained thoughts and experiences I personally could relate to and has happened to me, so, to quote myself “I suppose her book did what she wanted it to do.”

[stars-and-branches]

Fun stuff to do while self-isolating

Websites:

1. Flight Rising - A cute dragon breeding browser game, good for 15-30 minutes of entertainment.

2. Kiss Anime, Kiss Cartoon, Kiss Comics - Free anime, cartoons and comics available for binging. USE AD BLOCK and antivirus when browsing through these websites, otherwise, pop-ups and ads will be unbearable. No links provided because these websites change domains and URLs often.

3. TV Tropes - I can get lost on this website for hours reading about the tropes and plot points my favorite media use. I recommend this especially for writers or people interested in fiction.

4. Bored Button - Randomly sends you to interactive websites, great for relieving a couple of minutes or to laugh at something silly, like a website that allows you to slap Captain Kirk.

5. Archive of Our Own and Fanfiction.net - These are the giants of the fanfiction writing community and are home to a vast collection of stories about your favorite characters.

6. Goodreads - This is a good place to go to find book recommendations, make lists of what you want to read, and keep track of reading goals.

Youtube Channels:

1. Jessica Kellgren-Fozard - A 50s aesthetic combined with educational videos about disability. Jessica has a lovely personality and has served as a well-loved voice of the spoonie community.

2. Acoustic Trench - Videos of Acoustic music featuring a golden retriever, what’s not to like?

3. Rare Earth - This channel explores the lesser-known stories of people all around the world.

4. Simone Giertz - She builds robots that don’t work and has a lovely personality!

5. Mike Boyd - He constantly works on learning new skills and uploads his journey on his channel.

6. ElleOfTheMills - Elle Mills makes vlogs about her life. The videos are so high quality that watching them is like watching a movie.

7. Crash Course - They don’t need an introduction but this channel is good to watch while in isolation, both to learn something new and for students to keep up with their studies.

Videogames:

1. Stardew Valley - This is probably one of my favorite games. You get to run a small farm, befriend the townsfolk, and explore the many secrets in the game. Relationships in this game are lgbtq+ friendly! This game is available on most platforms and is relatively inexpensive at $10.

2. Outer Worlds - This game is brought to you by the studio that made Fallout: New Vegas. This game is beautiful and has a complex interesting storyline. All of the companion characters are well written and likable (One of which is an ace lesbian!). This game is available on the PC, Playstation, and X Box. It’s more expensive than the previous game on this list but it more than deserves the triple-A price tag of $59.99

3. Night in the Woods - This game is much more story-based than the other games on this list. The plot is wonderful and grapples with issues of mental illness and young adulthood. The price sits somewhere in the middle of #1 and #2 in this list at $19.99 and is available on PC, Mac, Linux, and Playstation 4.

4. Undertale - This is one of those games that needs no introduction. It’s a quirky pixel RPG with moral choices that doesn’t take itself too seriously. Undertale costs around $10 and is available on the Nintendo Switch, PC, and Playstation 4

5. Runescape - This is one of the oldest MMORPGs out on the market and is free to play. Runescape has an engaging crafting system and a wide variety of fun quests. While it is free to play Runescape suffers from some pay to win elements. This game is available on the PC and is in the early access phases of becoming a mobile app.

6. Albion Online - Albion Online is a large MMORPG with its strengths in its large scale PvP battles, combat system, and crafting system. This game is free to play with an optional subscription.

Mobile Apps:

1. Amino - This is a lesser-known social media app home to thousands of online communities. Fandoms, hobbies, roleplaying, and various other interests dominate the content here.

2. Animal Crossing Pocket Camp - This is a small, cutesy animal crossing game, enough to tide everyone over until new horizons releases on the 20th.

3. The Arcana - A tarot themed dating sim! Lgbtq+ friendly and filled with beautiful art. The characters are well written and the plot is filled with intrigue.

Podcasts:

1. Welcome to Night Vale - I can’t say too much about this one without spoiling it, this podcast is best listened to without knowing what to expect.

2. The Adventure Zone - A D&D podcast hosted by the Mcelroys, full of witty characters and funny moments.

3. Duolingo - Available in Spanish and French these podcasts are perfect for practicing your target language without leaving home.

Activities:

1. Bake

2. Start a project you’ve always wanted to try but haven’t had the time to do.

3. Draw, paint, etc.

4. Start a diy craft

5. Cook

6. Do some spring cleaning!

7. Read

8. Go on social media

9. Binge shows/movies on your streaming service of choice.

10. Start a garden

11. Pick and press flowers

12. Spend time with your pets (if you have any)

13. Call/text loved ones.

14. Color in an adult coloring book.

15. Pick up a new hobby.

16. Journal

Feel free to comment/reblog with more suggestions!